Klaus Neumann

I spent my whole life in Chemnitz, Germany, navigating through its various transformations. In the GDR era, I had a stable job in administration. It was enough to provide for my family, and life, although regimented, had a certain predictability. But then reunification happened, and the ground beneath me shifted. I lost my job and had to retrain, eventually landing in the accounting department of a construction company. I worked there until retirement, a phase of life I thought would bring peace and rest.

In recent years, my health has declined. Now, at 81, I live in a retirement home, cared for by a dedicated Ukrainian woman named Olena. Her kindness and professionalism have been a lifeline for me, quite literally. It's a stark contrast to my past views. Not long ago, I was surrounded by right-wing extremists, which influenced me to adopt similar views. I voted for the AFD, convinced that foreigners were a threat to our way of life. My social circle was homogenous; I didn't have any foreign friends or know any Germans with darker skin.

Living in this retirement home has changed me. The caregivers here, many of whom are from different countries, are the most compassionate and diligent people I have ever met. This daily interaction has dismantled my prejudices. Olena, with her gentle humor and patience, has become a fixture in my life. She reminds me that kindness knows no borders. The other caregivers, from various parts of the world, have been equally kind and respectful. Their dedication made me realize how wrong my previous beliefs were.

This transformation in my thinking came late in life, but it has been profound. Realizing that I was wrong has given me a sense of peace. I see now that understanding and compassion grow from direct contact and openness. Prejudices crumble when faced with the humanity of the individuals we once feared or misunderstood. In these final years, I've learned that openness to others is the key to dissolving hate and fear. As I face the end of my journey, this realization brings me a quiet comfort.