Who Is “Us”—and Who Becomes “Them”?

There are people we instinctively feel at ease with. Something about them feels familiar. We understand their way of seeing the world, or imagine that we do. They feel like us.

And then there are people who feel farther away.

Perhaps their politics trouble us. Their religious beliefs are unfamiliar. Their culture, values, identity, or way of living may be different from ours. Sometimes we know why we feel distance. Other times, the response happens before we have even had time to think.

Our groups can give us identity, safety, shared meaning, and a profound sense of belonging. But the same boundaries that tell us where we belong can also shape whom we keep outside.

What interests me most is what happens inside us when we encounter someone we experience as being on the other side.

What assumptions arise before we know the person? What becomes harder to see once we have decided who “they” are? And what happens to our curiosity when something important to us feels threatened?

Belonging and being an outsider

I know something about both belonging and being an outsider. Growing up Asian in the United States, I was one of only two Asian students in my high school class of 1,200.

When I first traveled to China, I thought I would finally feel an easy sense of belonging. I am Chinese and spoke Mandarin. But people knew immediately that I wasn’t one of them. I dressed differently. My hairstyle was different. I was Chinese, but also unmistakably American.

What eventually helped me cross that divide wasn’t looking or behaving more like everyone else. It was my warmth and longing to connect. People responded to that, and I began to feel accepted.

On good days, I feel fortunate that I can belong in both Chinese and American cultures. On days when I feel less sure of myself, I can feel as though I don’t fully belong in either.

Recognizing our blind spots

Perhaps that is part of what makes belonging so complicated. The lines between “us” and “them” aren’t only drawn by other people. They can also live inside us.

If we look with courage and compassion, we may discover moments when we have drawn those lines around others, too. Perhaps we made an assumption, stayed with people who felt familiar, dismissed someone too quickly, or reduced a complicated human being to a political position, identity, stereotype, or belief.

Some of these moments are easy to recognize. Others are blind spots—difficult to see precisely because we don’t yet know they are there.

I find hope in that. Because a blind spot, once glimpsed, gives us a choice.

Choosing curiosity across differences

We can become curious about someone we thought we already understood. We can notice when certainty has replaced curiosity. We can remember that the person we experience as “them” may also experience us as “them.”

Understanding is not the same as agreeing. Connection does not require abandoning our values, erasing meaningful differences, or giving up necessary boundaries. But perhaps we can hold our convictions without losing sight of the human being across from us.

Some questions to contemplate

• Who feels naturally like “us” to you? Who more easily becomes “them”?
• When have you felt like “them”? What do you wish others had understood about you?
• When might you have made someone else feel like “them”?
• Is there someone you have stopped being curious about? What might become possible if you became curious again?

Every time we look beyond an assumption, listen across a difference, or make room for someone who might otherwise remain outside our circle, we help create a different kind of world. Not one without differences. One in which our differences do not have to keep us from seeing, knowing, and valuing one another.