So often when working on issues related to refugees or poor migrants, I end up reflecting on how lightly I carry my rights — the right to a safe home, the right to enjoy family life, the rights to running water and nutritious food and a living wage. But even as I empathize with their plights, it is impossible to escape the fact that our lives are so different. I have never felt that those rights are at risk of being taken away from me.
But talking to H4 visa holders has been a different experience. These women are privileged; they live where I do; but for a few quirks of fate (and the US immigration system) I could have been one of them. That has been a sobering reflection. And it has made me realize with new intensity just how lucky I am to have the right to work.