Thoughts following a dialogue coffee meeting in Philadelphia, PA

Trump calls us either animals or says we eat people's pets. He says we poison Americans' blood, come from prisons and mental institutions. Emotions were running high when I met these people last night in the important swing state of Pennsylvania.

Three of them were representatives from Latin American organizations. One of them worked with climate change. Two of them raised millions, which were used to help families who were socially, economically, and health-wise challenged in life.

What they all had in common was that they feared Trump would win the election. Not because they had a general problem with Republicans. They had family members, friends, and colleagues who voted for the party, with whom they no longer discussed politics. They had a problem with Trump. All his lies. Suspicion. Threats. They were deeply frustrated.

They feared what everyday life would be like for immigrants if Trump won. They said that immigrants were already being arbitrarily arrested and deported. But Latin Americans in particular felt alienated and treated with hostility. They were completely honest about the challenges that immigration also presented. Several of them had suggestions for immigration reform, where those living in the country would be given more rights, while the door would be closed to those outside the US borders.

It is always a very special experience to meet other minorities around the world. We share a common language because of the painful experiences we each have with racism, hatred, discrimination, and stigmatization.

A shared baggage of experiences.

But I came from Denmark. We spent a long time comparing the two countries. I proudly told them that we were one of the least corrupt countries with a high level of trust in the authorities. The best place in the world to be a mother. We were the ones with high taxes, but a safety net and welfare for citizens. But just like in the US—perhaps not to the same extent—we also had challenges with dialogue with those we disagreed with.

I told them about dialogue coffee and how they themselves could build bridges to Trump's voters, whom they had spent the entire evening criticizing.

Do you demonize yourselves, I finally asked, when I sensed that we had built up trust after dinner. (That's why my slogan is: where there is food, there is peace).

I was very curious to see how they would react to my very direct manner. Yes, they replied. We also have prejudices. And we also judge. We also write them off for conversation. We don't want dialogue with them either, because they attack us all the time. Maybe they think the same about you, I said. There was silence.

I told them about my own journey from ditch digger to bridge builder. And when the evening ended, several of them said that perhaps they should invite some of their Republican friends to a dialogue coffee.