Book Review: Prasanta Verma Takes Us Beyond Ethnic Loneliness
It is summer in Chicago, and our migrant population is no longer huddled in tents outside police stations. Yet, housing insecurity is still a reality, and many develop their own outdoor circuits to escape overcrowded shelters, to entertain their children, to sell chicle and earn their daily bread. On a recent Saturday afternoon, I saw one such family board my bus. The young man, woman, and toddler boy trudged to seats in the middle of the bus, but the older girl chose to stand at the front, her slender arm stretching to clutch a passenger handle. Was she 8, 9,10 years old? It was hard to tell. She was so slight in frame, yet wore such a wearied expression. Her eyes and skin were a similar shade of rich fertile earth, but she looked far from nourished. As the bus lurched its way out of downtown, she stared out the window or across the bus, without her eyes really fixing on anything. I wondered what she saw. I wondered if she was looking at pictures in her mind, of people that she missed, of things far away. I thought of all that also separated her from most things physically near right now — language, immigration status, poverty. I thought she must be lonely.
I credit these thoughts to a recent read of Prasanta Verma’s first book, Beyond Ethnic Loneliness: The Pain of Marginalization and the Path to Belonging published in April 2024. A poet and storyteller, Verma shares her personal experiences as a child immigrant from India and woman of color, weaving these together with the testimonies of other members of racial and ethnic minorities, published research on underrepresented groups in the United States, and a touch of theological reflection. Verma does so with the conviction that “there is hope for the person of color who feels marginalized and like they are living in the in-between places.”
For Verma, the path beyond loneliness and toward healing begins with explaining that loneliness accompanies being perennially othered by majority white culture while simultaneously being estranged from one’s culture of origin. This separation and loss is not unique to recent immigrants, but also a result of the enduring impact of colonization, enslavement, continued pressure to assimilate, and devaluation of what is not white. In her exploration of this phenomenon, Verma does not land on one all-encompassing definition of loneliness. Her image of being without roots remains most vivid for me. A person without roots cannot secure a place to be oneself, nor do they have a place or a people to which they can return. As we learn quickly from plant life, the effects of being rootless are devastating. Such deprivation constitutes an individual and collective trauma which we may see manifest in physical and mental health symptoms, conflict and violence within communities of identity, or an overall failure to thrive, for which the dominant culture all too often blames the marginalized.
It is within the margins, Verma reminds us, that Jesus chose to dwell. The dismissed, exiled, and reviled were the priority of Jesus during his ministry on Earth, and it is the marginalized with whom God continues to be fully present today. It is with this assurance that Verma transitions to the second half of the book, which focuses on the ways persons of color and those in underrepresented groups can heal from the trauma of personal, intergenerational, and community loss and harm. Verma addresses ways in which the individual can care for self, build connection and visibility through storytelling, and establish belonging with self, community, and God. But Verma does not advocate for the abolition of loneliness. Rather, she believes, it is loneliness that pulls us out of ourselves, reminds us of humanity’s need for one another, gives us hearts for hospitality, and helps us envision a “better country,” referring not to a nation-state, but rather a dwelling place that strives to emulate the Reign of God.
Verma’s work is more than a thought exercise. She includes chapter-end discussion questions, periodic suggestions for action, and appendices with BIPOC mental health resources and further suggestions for reading. In a 200-page paperback book, this is a generous amount to accomplish. Verma consistently moves forward with humility, naming the limitations of her experiences and offering readers perspectives from myriad other voices. This book directly addresses BIPOC readers, but it is not any less valuable to white majority culture readers who seek to be better neighbors, or to establish kinship with those who are close in physical proximity, but miles away in experience.
As we commemorate the Independence Day of the United States, I invite us to consider how we might narrow that gap. Verma offers us a start in her relating of Matthew 20:29-34:
“As they were leaving Jericho, a large crowd followed him. There were two blind men sitting by the roadside. When they heard that Jesus was passing by, they shouted, ‘Lord, have mercy on us, Son of David!’ The crowd sternly ordered them to be quiet; but they shouted even more loudly, ‘Have mercy on us, Lord, Son of David!’ Jesus stood still and called them, saying, ‘What do you want me to do for you?’ They said to him, ‘Lord, let our eyes be opened.’ Moved with compassion, Jesus touched their eyes. Immediately they regained their sight and followed him.”
Verma reflects, “He stopped. He asked. He listened. He acted.” With these straightforward steps, we too can be ministers of healing. We too can tend the uprooted and nourish loving connections.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Angela Paviglianiti was ruined for life in the Jesuit Volunteer Corps around the turn of the century. She is what happens when you mix women’s studies, social work, and seminary. Angela is indebted to Ignatius of Loyola and Dorothy Day, although she probably wouldn’t have gotten along with either of them. She still believes in fairies, and the Gospel according to you and me and us.
