Dr. McCaffrey remembered one Syria Supper Club dinner she attended shortly after the organization was started in December 2015. “One of the cooks introduced herself to us all with, ‘Hi, I’m a Syrian refugee and I appreciate your help.’ People responded, ‘Oh, we’re so glad to be here, we really want to help you!’ But my partner and I didn’t want the conversation to go that way. We want to reinforce the idea of these folks being new neighbors. We want to reinforce their dignity. I’m not sure that storytelling is empowering.”

Indeed, even the word “refugee,” loaded as it is with meaning, can throw Americans off balance. One of the Displaced Dinners speakers is a gay Syrian refugee named Lutfi who was persecuted for many years for his sexual orientation. Disowned by his family and arrested in both Bahrain and the United Arab Emirates, he now lives in New York and works at a clothing store in SoHo.

Lutfi takes no issue with his official designation: “I don’t have a problem with ‘refugee.’ I’m a very proud ‘refugee’!” However, he added, “One girl at work, the first week we were very friendly. But when I told her I am a Syrian refugee, she stopped joking with me. Suddenly just ‘hello’ and ‘goodbye.’”

Some relief workers suggest that the best way to navigate these shores is to let the refugee steer the conversation, and to be discreet about using the “r” word. Hisham Zawil, who runs the International Rescue Committee’s office in Oakland, Calif., said that a person who has worked in the group’s youth program for two years “has never talked to these kids about their refugee story or where they’re coming from. It’s sometimes not appropriate.”

Manal Kahi, a founder of Eat Offbeat, a New York City catering company staffed with refugees, said of her employees: “They are chefs. We emphasize that they are chefs before we mention their refugee status.”