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Every time Joanne Stevenson went back to work with orphans in Zambia, it renewed her desire to return. A former teacher and self-taught photographer, Joanne had always wanted to go on a humanitarian trip. Having found one where she could offer her assistance, she went back several times, always thinking, “I wish I could do the same thing [in Utah].” Often, we overlook the fact that aid is needed everywhere, our home not excluded.

As a friend and a photographer, Joanne documents beautiful moments with the refugee families she mentors.

Photo: Joanne Stevenson/̽����ѡ

Eventually, it occurred to her, “I don’t have to go to Africa to do this.” Then, nine years ago, she began volunteering with the ̽����ѡ (̽����ѡ) in Salt Lake City as a family mentor. Since then, Joanne has worked with families from a myriad of backgrounds and formed lifelong friendships. 

Joanne’s favorite part about being there for newly arrived refugee families is watching them experience new things for the first time. One of her favorite memories happened when she brought a family from the Democratic Republic of Congo to a Fourth of July parade. They were stunned as people threw free candy and bemused by the fake royalty. 

“If people realized what amazing experiences they could have,” Joanne said about volunteering, “they would want to be involved. It’s life-changing.” Through these volunteering moments, she feels like she’s really “learned to love people for who they are.”

Joanne's favorite part about volunteering is experiencing the U.S. through the eyes of refugees.

Photo: Joanne Stevenson/̽����ѡ

"If people realized what amazing experiences they could have, they would want to be involved. It's life-changing."

Although families sometimes leave, Joanne doesn’t. Her initial commitment is six months when she first starts mentoring a family. She’s never followed that timeline, though. Bonds that she forms with each family outlive the time asked of her and distance doesn’t keep them apart. 

A family she met from Nepal moved to Pittsburg, but she stayed in touch. When one of their daughters had her wedding, Joanne was invited as her “American mother.” When the family’s youngest son passed away, Joanne sat with the mother on her couch. Not speaking the same language, they sat in silence, until the mother pointed at a picture of her son, one that Joanne had taken, said his name and wept. As a mother, Joanne didn’t need to share her language to share her grief. 

Joanne thinks we would all be more compassionate if we could put ourselves in refugees’ shoes. “We think we have all the answers,” she said of Americans. “But what [refugees] do is right for them.” 

Joanne, a long-time volunteer with the ̽����ѡ in Salt Lake City, forms close bonds with every refugee family she mentors.

Photo: Joanne Stevenson/̽����ѡ

Joanne embraces decisions and practices, an attitude that leads to vulnerability and friendship. She reflected on another family from Eritrea who prayed while she visited, completely at ease. They felt comfortable that she wouldn’t judge. “They’re the nicest family,” she said, mentioning she feels that way about all the refugee families she’s spent time with. They all “want you to feel at home in their home,” just as we want them to feel at home in ours. 

During the COVID-19 pandemic, volunteers can still offer their support. You can help refugees protect themselves from infection. Let’s work together while apart. Learn more>