I know a lot about refugees.

I am a social worker, professor and researcher at San Jose State University. For over a decade, I have worked with refugees, bearing witness to the courageous journey of individuals and families as they learn to move on from war, torture and trauma. Their stories inspire my research on whether we can develop culturally-effective health and behavioral health services. In doing this research and looking closely at how different countries manage the needs of refugees and forced migrants, it became clear to me that “but for the grace of God go I.”

In California, Oregon, and Washington this summer, cities filled with smoke from the climate fires, fires made more destructive from years of drought. The day skies were dark, sometimes yellow, and for a few days deep orange. Our air was so toxic that we were told to close our windows and not leave our homes. 564,000 people fled with the few items they could grab; many having nothing to return to. They join the 80 million people displaced from their homelands each year.

As coastlines recede, climate fires burn through states, droughts dry the land, and hurricanes flood lowlands. We are making our world less and less habitable and creating more and more climate refugees. The climate has been changing, but we haven’t.

When people worldwide are forced to flee, they depend on the kindness of other countries. During President Obama’s last year, we accepted 85,000 refugees. A number still considered inadequate to address the refugee crisis. In 2020, President Trump limited the number of people accepted into the United States to 18,000 and has set the number for 2021 to be 15,000.

While the vast numbers of displaced persons worldwide are hard to imagine, try to imagine one: a young woman who at 18 moved to the United States for a better life. Her childhood was hard. She was the youngest of 10 children, discriminated against in her home country because of her language and ethnicity. Her family was poor, and her community suffered great economic hardships making it near impossible to survive. She worked as a domestic worker but realized she needed to leave her homeland to find better work. She made her way to the United States with little money and English as her second language. This woman is Donald Trump’s mother, Mary. It is through her bravery and determination that President Trump was born in the United States.

Donald Trump went on to marry an immigrant, Ivanna, who fled Czechoslovakia. His current wife, Melania was an immigrant from eastern Europe. Her immigration status was made easier through Trump’s connections.

These are true stories of immigrants. These are the stories of all Americans. The truth is, most refugees seeking a better life here in the U.S. are not gang members infiltrating our country or rapists invading our borders.

As our climate changes and nations battle, the number of displaced persons will rise. And, as wildfires, hurricanes, droughts and pandemics increase, we are just as likely to be among the 80 million refugees worldwide who will seek safety and prosperity at someone’s border this year?

May we hope they treat us better than we are treating many refugees today.

Nicole Dubus is an associate professor of social work at San Jose State University and a fellow with the Public Voices OpEd Project.