A tent can simultaneously symbolize both self-determined freedom and serve as a first shelter, or a new beginning, for someone who has lost their home. Finland experienced a significant refugee crisis in 2015, when over 32,000 asylum seekers arrived in the country. At the time, I was serving as a Member of Parliament. It was my first term. As a country, we were facing something new, and I, as a person in power, was in many ways still unseasoned. I spent a lot of time reflecting on what I could do as an individual MP. The public debate was divisive, and the urgency of people’s distress was evident. I wanted a broader perspective and a deeper understanding of what was unfolding.

I decided to assemble an informal group to consider migration more broadly and explore what forms of support could help ensure that things wouldn’t fall apart. Around the table sat researchers, architects, designers, various organizations and companies. Suddenly I wasn’t just looking at systems, but at a wealth of expertise ready to help guide people to safety. There was research on the movement of large populations, designers and architects developing various forms of temporary or even more permanent housing, psychologists considering people’s mental and emotional needs, and the Martha Association matters of home economics and settling into a new place. Everyone shared the goal of creating at least a momentary sense of safety for those who had been cast adrift.

The discussions and solutions had a profound impact on me and served as a reminder of the strength of our shared humanity. I thought about how self-evident a safe home is for many of us, and how difficult it is to truly grasp a reality in which someone loses that safety. How easily someone who has lost their familiar surroundings becomes faceless and disconnected.