A not-so-natural process: Becoming a U.S. citizen

A not-so-natural process: Becoming a U.S. citizen

These articles were written by eleven Concordia College students under the tutelage of Catherine McMullen during a semester-long advanced reporting class at Concordia College in Moorhead, MN. These pieces explore refugee resettlement in the Fargo-Moorhead area. As an introduction to this project, McMullen states that these articles “…do not attempt to provide the definitive study on the topic, but rather explore various aspects of refugee resettlement through the stories of people who know the topic on a first-hand and deeply personal basis.” Read more here.


Sun glistened through the windows of Concordia College’s Centrum on April 4, adding brightness to an already joyous occasion. More than 216 New Americans were about to realize their long-held dreams—to become U.S. citizens.

According to the United States Citizenship and Immigration Services website, the U.S.A. naturalizes 680,000 new U.S citizens each year. These new citizens then enjoy the same rights as every other American, such as voting and serving on juries.

Few people know how arduous the task is for those seeking citizenship. It’s a six-step process: I-94 form, green card, fingerprinting, test preparation, the test itself, and finally, the naturalization ceremony. There are no shortcuts to this system and it will take an applicant around six years of work and waiting to accomplish. Just ask New American citizen Gat-kier Machar.


Machar became a U.S. citizen in 2006, six years after arriving from a refugee camp in Kakuma, Kenya.

“If you don’t understand the process you will be frustrated,” Machar said. “If you don’t read the instructions well, you will be wasting your money.”

His process began with the I-94, a form meant to keep track of the arrival and departure of those considered aliens of the United States.

“The I-94 is temporary status,” Machar said. “You then have nine or so months to apply for what they call a green card, which gives you permanent status to live here as long as you want.”

The I-94 is no longer used and was replaced by a similar system called the Electronic System for Travel Authorization (ESTA), which serves the same purpose as the I-94 did.

Obtaining the green card is the most time consuming of the steps in the naturalization process. After 10 months’ time, when you’re ESTA has expired, if one has chosen to apply for their green card, it takes two to three months for the government to process the green card application. With the application, one must provide an array of personal information, including name, date of birth, and specific information regarding the USCIS district one is applying from.

The two-to-three month process can be an unnerving waiting period, and for some it is a process that seems to never have an ending.

Marko Rout is a friend of Machar’s from his time associated with a group formerly known as “unaccompanied minors,” according to Machar. The group is more commonly known as “The Lost Boys of the Sudan,” more than 20,000 boys who were removed from their homes and families during the Sudanese Civil War, which begin in 1983 and lasted 22 years. Marko currently lives in Grand Forks, ND, where he has been working on gaining his green card since 2011. Along with the application, there are 50 questions an applicant must answer and send in with the request. Marko’s past has led to some difficulties in the process.

“Because I was forced into being a child soldier during the war, they think I am a part of a government organization back in South Sudan,” Rout said. “I call every three months to check in, and am sent a letter back saying ‘inadmissible.’”

Rout is dealing with a particularly difficult factor in the naturalization process, getting ahold of government workers for clarification. Gat-kier Machar said this has been an issue with immigration since his naturalization process.

“A human being with a little brain, and a little heart would give him an answer,” said Machar of the unresponsiveness in Rout’s application process. “If you call, you’ll be on the phone with them and you know what they’ll tell you? ‘Check online.’”

Rout has taken a different approach for help in clarifying unclear information regarding his green card forms. He has been working with several University of North Dakota law students as well as with the Swanson Law Firm out of Grand Forks. Both are examples of outside resources available to those in the process of naturalization.


After a successful green card application, there is a five-year waiting period until someone is qualified to apply for a U.S citizenship. The next step after passing the five-year window is to get your fingerprints taken by the government. Again, the common theme of waiting arises and yet again the applicant is asked to wait six months until they receive the print results.

For an immigrant in a brand new country, lengthy waiting periods can be filled with instability. Nepali refugee Ram Adhikari lived in four different states during his citizenship application period. The tricky part for someone in Ram’s shoes comes in monitoring all this travel for the U.S government.

“You have to provide them with proof of places where you lived,” Adhikari said. “Exact time, exact date. When you moved in and when you moved out.”

To further complicate Adhikari’s process, the government requires a specific travel log of anytime you leave the country. Ram had relatives in Canada during his first five years in the U.S, and he visited them many times. Each trip would consist of a detailed travel log as well as some form of proof he actually went where he said. He then needed to send all this to the USCIS each time he returned into the U.S.

“One time they sent my application back to me saying that they needed more proof [about one specific trip to Canada], Adhikari said. “Finally I found my plane ticket and we sorted it out.”


After submitting the fingerprints, the citizen-in-training is given a booklet with 200 questions and a DVD. These are the study materials one needs to prepare for the citizenship test, which is the final task in the process of becoming new U.S citizens. The four-to-six month waiting period associated with the fingerprint process is allocated as study time.

Many refugees, like Ram Adhikari, arrive and remain alone for quite some time in America. Keeping their heads above water, let alone studying for an exam they are given only two shots at, adds heat to a pot of water ready to boil.

“The application for the exam costs you $680 dollars,” Adhikari said. “If you fail a portion of the test, you can retake that portion in four to five months. If you fail again, you have to start the whole process over.”

Even though a refugee may feel alone in this endeavor, there is help out there. Ram received help from the IRC, or International Rescue Committee, when he arrived in California. The IRC is similar Lutheran Social Services here in Fargo, as they both offer specific assistance with refugees and immigrants who are having difficulty adjusting to their new country.

Mock citizenship examinations are available online from the USCIS website, but an even more comprehensive way to prepare for the exam is to take the citizenship classes offered across the country. In Fargo, Agassiz Adult Learning and Lutheran Social Services offer weekly sessions for free to those who are working on gaining their citizenship.

Nancy Halilovic helps teach the classes at Agassiz, and has done so for 15 years. Originally a middle school, its hallways are now adorned with the flags of hundreds of different countries. Halilovic is greeted by bright, unfamiliar faces of many different races of people. Men and women from the Middle East, Asia, and Africa to name a few, sit in a horseshoe shaped alignment of tables in the center of the room.

Each student is given a yellow handbook titled “Citizenship Information.” In it are 61 pages of material, including pronunciation guidance for reading questions, sentences to practice for the writing portion, the structure of the government, and even an exact copy of the Naturalization form, which itself takes up 21 pages.

The class meets every Tuesday and Thursday from noon to 2:30 p.m. During this time Halilovic and the class will go through, for example, over 40 different dictation sentences ranging from “citizens can vote,” to “Lincoln was the President during the Civil War.” Halilovic may also read aloud questions for the class to answer, just as they would have to do in the question and answer portion of their citizenship examination.

“What are the first three words of the U.S Constitution?” she asks.

“We the people!” The class answers as a resounding whole.


The test itself is a maximum of 20 questions, and is completed one-on-one with an immigration officer. There are three different kinds of questions one may see on the exam: writing, question/answer and dictation, where the applicant is asked to read a sentence aloud.

Topics for the three categories have a wide range. American government, history, rights and responsibilities, even holidays and national symbols may come up on the test. Even as a U.S. born citizen, I found myself humbled by some of the questions.  

Of Adhikari’s exam questions, two of them were about George Washington.

“I was asked who the first president of the United States was,” Adhikari said. “And I was asked which President was on the dollar bill.”

Adhikari then gestured for me to answer.

“Washington,” I said.

He smiled a cheesy smile and nodded.

Gat-kier Machar was posed a much trickier question:

“Who said this quote, ‘Give me liberty or give me death?’”

Again, my interviewee posed this as a question for me. I was completely blanked. So I guessed George Washington.

Machar smiled and rolled his head back laughing.

“The answer is Patrick Henry,” said Machar, holding back his giggling.


At this point in the citizenship journey, not including the time it takes to get a green card, someone who has passed the exam is looking at over six years of work towards achieving this goal. But after a passing exam, there is a massive sigh of relief, as only the excitement and sense of accomplishment that goes along with a naturalization ceremony remains.

According to the U.S District Court website, each district schedules three ceremonies a month at different venues, and are led by justices of each district.

The current Chief U.S. District Judge for the District of Minnesota is Concordia College graduate John Tunheim, who is particularly fond of participating in naturalization ceremonies.

 “I enjoy them,” Tunheim said. “I usually do seven or eight a year, and in total, I have done around 150 ceremonies.”

Even though the majority of the ceremonies Tunheim has led came while he was a district judge, he has continued to partake in them since beginning his seven-year term as Chief District Judge last July.

Tunheim made the pilgrimage to Concordia’s most recent naturalization ceremony in April, where he led the ceremony in the Centrum.

After an opening statement from Concordia’s President William Craft, Tunheim addressed a full house of New Americans, their families and other patrons interested in the ceremony.

“Every day there are ceremonies just like this, so you all will only hold the distinction of newest American citizens for about ten minutes,” Tunheim said. “Do not forget where you came from, but you have an obligation to this country now to be active and productive citizens of the United States of America.”

Individuals were asked to stand as their names and country of birth were read aloud, to the raucous applause of the entire chamber.

The room stirred with excitement as each name and country was announced.

Thirty-three different countries were represented at the ceremony, with India and Iraq receiving perhaps the loudest of ovations from the crowd.

After the men and women were recognized, those pledging for citizenship were asked to repeat after Judge Tunheim. When taking the oath, one must pledge to renounce allegiance to any nations of previous citizenship, declare to support and defend the U.S. Constitution, and agree to bear arms on behalf of the United States.

There was a collective sigh of achievement once the oath was completed.

A brief video message from President Barack Obama followed the oath, accompanied by videos of other naturalization ceremonies from the past. Obama welcomed the new citizens, and spoke briefly on the opportunities and responsibilities that comes with being a U.S citizen.

As the ceremony approached its climax, the newest U.S citizens were asked to take out the small American flags they had all been given upon entering the Centrum. The chamber was illuminated by the flapping and waving of 216 different flags of stars and stripes.    

The ceremony culminated with the entire chamber joining together in The Pledge of Allegiance. Upon finishing, the new citizens embraced their family and friends in a state of jubilation for what they had just accomplished.

“There is a lot of emotion, even for people who haven’t had recent difficulties that have led them to become U.S citizens,” Tunheim said. “Some have lived here for 30 to 40 years and it’s still emotional for them.”

Machar would agree.

“Our journey was pretty rough for us,” Machar said, remembering his feelings after his naturalization. “A lot of us shed tears.”

“There were people from 46 different countries at my ceremony,” Adhikari said. “That’s 46 different countries which means 46 different stories from each of them.”

Powerful emotions reign supreme after completing such a toiling process for Adhikari, Machar and other refugees from the past and present. It is a process worth the frustration and hours of waiting to become weaved into the tapestry of a country founded by immigrants and made for opportunity. It is a chance to leave behind what for many, like Machar, was pain and sorrow, and start fresh.


This piece was written by Concordia College student Ben Gislason as part of an Investigating and Narrating the News course during the Spring of 2016 where students reported on refugee issues and stories in Fargo-Moorhead. To learn more about this project and read additional stories, visit their website at http://newamericanfm.wix.com/read

New Americans walk long road to self-sufficiency

New Americans walk long road to self-sufficiency

These articles were written by eleven Concordia College students under the tutelage of Catherine McMullen during a semester-long advanced reporting class at Concordia College in Moorhead, MN. These pieces explore refugee resettlement in the Fargo-Moorhead area. As an introduction to this project, McMullen states that these articles “…do not attempt to provide the definitive study on the topic, but rather explore various aspects of refugee resettlement through the stories of people who know the topic on a first-hand and deeply personal basis.” Read more here.

For resettlement to be successful, a community effort is needed. Graphic is courtesy of Lutheran Social Services.

Laetitia Hellerud had just fled from Burundi for the fourth and final time, but this time was different than the others. She did not go back to her home. Instead, she was given a chance to resettle in the U.S. along with six of her siblings, where they started life anew. Now, after 18 years and a lot of hard work, Hellerud has a life in Fargo. Many refugees have similar stories, and many of those stories continue here, in the F-M area.

Of the 745,000 immigrants who came to the United States in 2015, 75,000 were refugees. Refugees, unlike most immigrants, are given the right to work and stay indefinitely as soon as they arrive in the United States, said Saurav Dahal, a special programs manager at Lutheran Social Services of North Dakota. In fact, they have all the same rights as citizens except they cannot vote, have a passport, or possess a firearm.

Adjusting to life in the U.S. brings with it a whole new set of challenges. For the past eight years, around 450 refugees per year have resettled in North Dakota. When refugees resettle in the U.S., they often come with nothing as they are forced to leave all their possessions behind. In order to adjust to their new lives, they need to get into housing, start working, and be able to sustain themselves. Programs like Lutheran Social Services provide them with assistance for housing, food, and transportation, but that assistance provides only basic necessities and does not last for long.

LSS is required to give services to refugees funneled through them for five years if needed. “By services I mean anything that is not financial assistance,” Dahal said. “We are not supposed to provide families with [financial] assistance if they are here for over eight months.” LSS does not provide services to anyone who did not come legally as a refugee, which includes anyone applying for asylum.

LSS helps refugees with employment services and case management, and links them with other community partners. “This program is quite strict, because we are dealing with lives of people, lives of children and families. Also it is so interlinked with the community that we go through audits almost every year,” Dahal said.

LSS receives a one-time reimbursement of $850 for each refugee from the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services, according to an LSS report about common misconceptions about refugees. LSS can bill direct costs of the services to federal refugee contracts. Any other costs are made up through donations.

The amount of federal money that goes into the resettlement of refugees in particular is unavailable. However, the Office of Refugee Resettlement—the organization that keeps track of services refugees are provided—reports that $1.528 billion (out of the nation’s $3.23 trillion  budget) was allocated to states and non-profits in 2014 for the purpose of providing services to refugees, people with special immigrant visas, victims of trafficking, and people seeking asylum.


According to the ORR’s report, refugees as a whole have been showing improvement and effort in becoming self-sufficient. The report’s summary reads, “Comparing refugees who have been in the U.S. less than a year to those who have been in the U.S. two years or more, there are noticeable positive trends in improved English language proficiency and workforce participation, and a decreased reliance on public benefits.”

The services that LSS provides to refugees start before the plane hits the ground. By now the refugee has taken on more than $1,000 of debt, because they must pay back the money used for their plane ticket. Once LSS is told they have a refugee or a refugee family coming in they start preparing for their arrival. “That information can come in anywhere from three weeks to three days in advance,” Dahal said.

The first step is finding the individual or family a place to live. LSS does this before the New American arrives. Once LSS finds an apartment, they stock it with basic furniture and food. Enough food is given to last one week, and a meal is provided for them the night they arrive.

Within the first month of arrival, LSS provides them with a phone and sets them up with English classes. The English classes usually start within a week of arriving.

Dahal said that it is crucial for refugees to start looking for work as soon as they get here.

“We must start work on finding employment right away, because the assistance they get is not enough at all. It is recommended they get a job within four months of arrival, and if they cannot get a job within eight months refugees risk becoming homeless because there is no way of paying the rent.”

For the first year, refugees receive no housing assistance, so they must pay the market rate for rent. According to Dahal, a common myth is that refugees get free housing. “If they are working but they are within the poverty guideline they may be eligible for housing assistance and that might happen the following years, but the first year they must [pay for] their own apartment,” he said.

The apartment needs to be affordable, but it also needs to be nice to enough to live in for a long time if needed, Dahal said.

While refugees search for a job, it is common for them to use money they can get through the Refugee Cash Assistance program. According to LSS, for the first eight months they are here, or until they make enough to become ineligible for the service, refugees can get cash assistance directly from the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services.

Life for New Americans is expensive, so finding a job is a priority. Getting a job is not just for paying the bills. If a refugee does not work or go to school, they may become ineligible to receive benefits from LSS and the state.

Even refugees with college educations often start out at entry level, low wage jobs.

Hellerud, who came to the U.S. in 1998, quickly found this out. Hellerud earned a degree in English Education in her home country of Burundi.  The first job she applied for in the U.S. was a housekeeping job at a hotel, but she did not get it. “Despite the fact that I spoke five languages . . . I was told that I was not qualified,” Hellerud said. “That was hard.”


This is a common problem for refugees, according to Dahal. Their degrees are often not accepted by American employers or colleges. This means nearly all New Americans take on low-wage, low-skill jobs just so they can get by.

“It is a challenge for us to work with those [New Americans] because it is almost humiliating saying that what they should do is to find a job at a hotel or motel even though we know that they were doctors back home,” Dahal said.

Refugees often choose to go to school instead of work. Some, like Hellerud, do both at once. Getting an education is extremely important for both personal and vocational success, she said.

At the same time, LSS works with many New Americans who grew up in refugee camps and did not have the ability to work before coming to America. Dahal says these people are often eager to find a job, just because they are excited to have the privilege to work.

Refugees help fill low-wage jobs. A study from the Economic Policy Institute last year showed that 15 percent of the U.S.’s economic output could be attributed to immigrants, even though they made up only 13 percent of the total population of the U.S.

After being turned down for three other jobs, Hellerud was able to get one working the night shift at Cardinal Windows. She was not there long. Hellerud’s case manager told her about an open case manager position at Lutheran Social Services, but Hellerud was not receptive to the idea at first. “I did not want to disappoint [my case manager],” she said. “They should know if I’m not qualified to do housekeeping how can I do case management?” She did end up getting the job as a case manager.

Making money is often a huge priority for refugees, as most refugees have families they need to take care of back home. “Basically you get a phone call at 2 a.m., somebody’s dying, somebody is in the hospital, somebody needs to go to school. It’s always a crisis,” Hellerud said.

“Growing up in a society where you take care of one and other, you can’t even live with yourself if you don’t help,” she said.

It can take a long time, several years to decades, for New Americans to begin to thrive in their new communities. Due to the low wages and the difficulty finding jobs, a lot of hard work is needed on the New American’s part to live a secure life.

“We have seen families who are working two or three jobs, and that is how they are building their life,” Dahal said.

Hellerud was no stranger to working multiple jobs. After getting her job at LSS, she needed a second job. She found one at a gas station. She continued working two jobs at a time for years. At one point in 2002, despite having a son to take care of and being pregnant with another child, she continued to work two jobs so she could save for her divorce and to attend school.


LSS also helps refugees learn how to live in the new society they have moved to. Case workers are the ones who help refugees with this. According to Amar Hussein, a case worker for LSS, the case workers are the first people that a New American meet when they come to the U.S. In fact, case workers are the ones that pick up their clients from the airport. It is a 24/7 job.

Hussein described a case worker as the person a refugee goes to for advice on any and all day to day activities, and beyond that, they are close to the New Americans they work with. Hussein says questions case workers help their clients with range from “what phone company should I go with” to “can you tell me what are the benefits from having a credit card or not?

“Even right now a big struggle for our clients is transportation,” said Hussein, who is a New American himself. He also said that transportation, along with avoiding junk food in the grocery stores, was the biggest issue he and his wife faced when they came to the U.S.

Hussein, who arrived from Iraq in 2007, said he also struggled with North Dakota weather. “In 2007 we faced a really harsh winter and we never faced this much of snow . . . [We lived on] first floor which is kind of underground. When your window will be almost level with the ground and it is all covered with snow, you’re like oh ok, what is going on?”

Restarting life from scratch can be incredibly hard for the New Americans, but there have been plenty of success stories. “We have many refugee families, I’d say a few dozen now, who have bought properties here, have homes here, have businesses here,” Dahal said.

Dahal stressed that refugee resettlement is a community effort, and is a lot of help is needed for New Americans.

“We have to work with our schools,” he said. “We have to work with our healthcare providers, law enforcement, and other nonprofits and social services . . . to make sure the families do get the services they require because as we all know, these folks are fleeing persecution and violence.”

Hellerud is one of those success stories. Though she doesn’t define her success as having a lot of money, she is in a much more stable position. She has started her own business called Ubuntu Consulting, that she says is doing very well. She is also writing a book about her family and experiences. Hellerud says it took her six or seven years to feel like she was becoming successful and secure after coming to the U.S., but that it took more than money to make her feel successful.

“I want to have enough to take care of my needs and also help somebody in need,” she said. “I want to help enough to not forget where I came from. So everything after is a bonus.”

This piece was written by Concordia College student Tyler Aldous as part of an Investigating and Narrating the News course during the Spring of 2016 where students reported on refugee issues and stories in Fargo-Moorhead. To learn more about this project and read additional stories, visit their website at http://newamericanfm.wix.com/read

Fowzia Adde: Overcoming barriers for refugee women

Fowzia Adde: Overcoming barriers for refugee women

This is one of a series of articles written by eleven Concordia College students under the tutelage of Catherine McMullen during a semester-long advanced reporting class at Concordia College in Moorhead, MN. These pieces explore refugee resettlement in the Fargo-Moorhead area. As an introduction to this project, McMullen states that these articles “…do not attempt to provide the definitive study on the topic, but rather explore various aspects of refugee resettlement through the stories of people who know the topic on a first-hand and deeply personal basis.” Read more here.

Fowzia Adde
Fowzia Adde is the Executive Director of the Immigration Development Center. Photo by Katie Beedy.

Fowzia Adde is at work in her office in the Townsite Center in Moorhead. Every minute, it seems, a bing from her computer indicates the arrival of another email—from businesses seeking funds from her organization, groups inviting her to conferences on gender equality and female empowerment, an elderly relative asking for help coming to America.

Adde is the executive director of the Immigrant Development Center, a nonprofit organization committed to helping immigrants and refugees find economic prosperity in the Fargo-Moorhead community. Symbols of her accomplishments can be found on every surface of the spacious room: framed certificates sit on her bookshelves, blueprints of the IDC’s latest project, the International Marketplace, hang on the beige walls next to photographs of her eight children, and a glass trophy bearing the words “YWCA Women of the Year” pokes out from beneath the clutter of papers and coffee cups that cover her desk. A ray of sun shines through the window and falls on the award, catching Adde’s eye.

“It didn’t happen magically,” she says, taking the trophy in her hands. “It was a lifetime of changes that brought me here.”

Since 1997, Adde has learned to maneuver a new life as a minority among minorities: a refugee woman in a country that has for so long catered to white, English-speaking men.

Adde’s experience, while remarkable, is not singular. According to the United Nations Refugee Agency, women and girls comprise about half of the tens of thousands of refugees who come to America in search of sanctuary every year. It is not possible for native United States citizens to fully comprehend the hardships that any refugee, regardless of gender, must endure; this

experience becomes even more complicated when the refugee is a woman. As a result of gender roles and their position in society, they are at an increased risk for discrimination and sexual and gender-based violence.

“The huge sound of weapons, like thunder”

Thirteen-year- old Adde was in her form one classroom in Mogadishu, Somalia, when the war began. The year was 1990, and rebel groups, hoping to overthrow the regime of President Siad Barre, had entered the capital city. Adde and her classmates, just teenagers, sat terrified in their seats as the sounds of screams and gunfire echoed outside.

“If you didn’t come from a country that’s war-torn, it’s hard to realize,” she said. “It’s the huge sound of weapons, like thunder.”

The sounds grew closer and closer to the school as parents began to arrive. Adde watched as her friends were taken in the arms of their crying parents, not knowing whether she would see them again. Her own mother finally came to bring her home, to what they thought was safety.  Once home, Adde and her six younger siblings were ushered into the basement. Her father, who was working for the government at the time, had already fled. “He was the first target,” she said.

The house shook and dust began to fall from the ceiling, and Adde’s mother knew that they could not remain hidden in that basement. They began making plans. All of the banks had been closed, so the residents of Mogadishu had to find other ways to get the money they needed. Luckily, her mother had a fair amount of gold jewelry saved. “She wanted to buy the new styles,” Adde said. “She didn’t know that this would be something that would save us in the future.”

Every day her mother would take those treasured pieces—necklaces, bracelets, rings— out from their boxes and drawers and sell them in the market for less than a quarter of what she had originally paid.  Three months later, with enough money saved, Adde’s mother gathered the children and told them to pack only what they could carry on their small backs.  Together they fled by foot and bus to the port town of Barawa, more than 200 km away. 

Barawa, while farther from the violence, presented Adde’s family with its own challenges. Compared to Mogadishu, Barawa was a small, impoverished town.

“That was the worst thing that happened to us,” Adde said. “Nobody wanted to buy [gold] from her. Nobody had money.”

They stayed in Barawa for three months. During this time, Adde took on the role of daughter, sister, and mother. She would walk miles to fetch enough water to give each of the kids a bath. She entertained and comforted them while they waited for their mother to return with food. When she did return, she came bearing only the head of an animal and less than half a pound of rice— all to feed seven hungry children.

Prior to the war, meals had been a time for Adde and her family to gather around large, communal plates of hot meats and rice. The children would scoop up their own servings, always filling their stomachs. In Barawa, with food so limited, they let their mother divide their portions for them. Nobody wanted to share. “When life is like that, you lose your choices,” she said. “You just want to get out of that problem, and you want to look for a way out.”

A fishing boat to Kenya

Their way out was a small fishing boat traveling from Barawa to Kenya. Adde’s family survived the trip, but many others did not. She recalls watching whole boats go down in front of their own. But the coast of Kenya was no safer for them than the water; they were illegal refugees, some of the first to arrive in Kenya, and they came with no paperwork. For four days they sat in that crowded boat as the Kenyan government blocked them from setting foot on solid ground.

“We thought, ‘what now? Now we reached a safe place, and nobody wants us,’” she said.

Finally, the United Nations and the Kenyan government reached a deal to take in refugees. Legs shaking from hunger and seasickness, Adde and her family stepped off the boat and began the journey to the refugee camp.

The camp was located on the outskirts of Mombasa, a very damp, muddy part of Kenya, where malaria ran rampant and the tents provided by the UN collapsed when the rain came. There were no sources of clean water, no private bathrooms. Adde’s immune system, accustomed to the mild weather in Mogadishu, was not prepared for such conditions. She contracted malaria in the first months.

“But I was one of the fortunate,” she said. “I made it through.”

Adde’s mother, desperate to provide a better life for her family, refused to stay in that camp for more than a year. She sold her belongings in downtown Mombasa and found an apartment in the city. Adde finished her high school education and learned medicine in Mombasa. Eventually, she was hired by the UN to become a nurse in the camps. She made a monthly salary of $50, but she never saw that check. Her mother would pick up Adde’s salary every month, and along with the money she continued to make in the markets, pay the rent on the apartment. The family lived in that apartment for six years.

“After that, I knew life will be better,” Adde says. “We just paid a lot for a price, you know?”

On June 16, 1997, Adde left her family and her war-torn home behind and fled to America; however, like many women, her struggle did not cease when she stepped off of that plane in Washington, D.C.

 Refugee women face barriers and isolation

Hank Tkachuk, a professor of communication studies at Concordia College in Moorhead, Minnesota, has spent the last 30 years working with the Lutheran Immigration and Refugee Service and Lutheran Social Services to help resettle refugees. He has also created curriculum which allows students in his Intercultural Communication class to act as mentors for local refugees every semester. For three decades he has worked with refugees, many of them women, attempting to break down the barriers that prevent them from beginning anew in America.

“Women were less likely to be educated, they were less likely to have linguistic skills, they were less likely to have worked outside of the home,” Tkachuk said. “Add those all up, it makes it much harder to be a refugee woman than be a man.”

Darci Ashe, who has collaborated with Tkachuk for much of her career, has worked with Adde and other refugee women for more than 20 years. She is a foster parent for unaccompanied minors, a former longtime employee at Lutheran Social Services, and the current Director of Development at the New American Consortium for Wellness and Empowerment, or WE Center, in Fargo. Asche and her coworkers at the WE Center are committed to educating the community and helping New Americans grow accustomed to their new home. They offer resources like cultural competency training, new business training, behavioral health guidance, and a language exchange program. In all of these roles, Ashe has been exposed to the challenges that these women face. The greatest obstacle she sees in the lives of the female refugees she works with is a sense of isolation. Many of them come from villages where family and friends lived side by side, offering companionship and sharing the burden of childbearing. When they come to America, they leave this community behind.

“If they have small children, it doesn’t really make sense for them to have a job and then try to figure out how to pay childcare,” she said. “So a lot of times the husband will have more than one job and the women will stay home with the children. That just completely puts a halt to any kind of integration because they’re stuck at home.”

Jonix Owino is not a refugee, but she is familiar with the experience of transitioning to American life as an African woman. She has also seen this kind of isolation at work. After completing her undergraduate work in her hometown of Nairobi, Kenya, Owino moved to Fargo to obtain her master’s of sociology degree at North Dakota State University. One day after moving to Fargo, she had a conversation with a refugee woman who had been in America for more than 10 years.

“I asked her, ‘Who are your friends? What are your networks?’” Owino said. “She told me that she had nobody outside of her immediate family.”

Owino was inspired by this one woman’s experience to complete her master’s thesis on the isolation of refugee women in America. She designed a study to see if such isolation was a common theme among all refugee women in the area and interviewed ten refugee women, all 40 years or older and from different countries. She found that all of them, to some extent, were experiencing the same isolation.

While compiling her research, Owino found that some of the most common causes of this isolation were cultural differences, language barriers, and a lack of opportunities to connect with local people. Many of these women are escaping war and violence in countries that placed a very strong emphasis on community and family. “Moving into a very individualistic society can make it harder for them to recover from their very distressing lives,” she said.

For this reason, Owino and Ashe agree that women like Adde, who come to America without a spouse or children, are at an advantage. Without a husband to rely on they are forced to integrate; to receive government benefits they are required to go out, learn English, and get a job.

 Adde: Help from strangers

Adde was a registered nurse in Kenya, trained to help treat refugees like herself who suffered from disease and injury. In America, she considered herself lucky when she found her first job: working as a housekeeper at the Savoy Hotel. But the back-breaking work cleaning rooms could barely pay for her first month’s rent, so she took on a second job as a cashier at 7/11.

At this convenience store in Southeast Washington, one of the district’s most dangerous neighborhoods, Adde had her first encounter with the danger and discrimination so notoriously faced by refugee women.

“There was a supervisor there who was a very bad man,” she said. “He knew I was young and he knew I was innocent, I was new. He took advantage of me. I worked 40 hours, I would only get paid for 25. I don’t know what he did with my other hours…To this day, I curse him. He used me. I needed that money, you know? And he took advantage of me.”

At the time, Adde did not fight back. “I wish I knew how to complain…I didn’t pick up my voice. I didn’t want to lose my job.”

Despite the injustice she faced during those long two-shift days,  Adde’s bright smile and trusting heart helped her find company in the least likely places.  First, there were her neighbors: a family of Vietnamese refugees, who made her dinner on her first night in America. Then there was the middle-aged Spanish woman who trained her at the Savoy and whose resilience and work ethic inspired her to keep going. There was the bus driver who drove her home after all of her two-shift days, calling out “Fowzia! It’s 16th Avenue. Go home,” on the nights when she fell asleep in her seat. Finally, there were the customers she met at the 7/11. There was a school for the deaf in the neighborhood, and students would often stop by the store between classes. She spoke to them in hand gestures, her own improvised version of American Sign Language.

“You know what I liked about the deaf university?” she asks. “I could understand them because my language is already deaf in this country.”

The challenge of culture shock

Even when refugee women are able to find work and some sense of community, culture shock can still prevent them from growing accustomed to their new life.

“For a lot of the women, where they’re coming from, there’s already a kind of oppression,” Ashe explains. “And so when they come to the U.S., often times women are struggling to kind of figure out how to maneuver in that more progressive atmosphere.”

In many ways, this new, progressive society can bring with it new forms of oppression. Many of the traditions and customs that these women have known their whole lives are no longer acceptable when they come to America, and they are forced to choose between carrying on a tradition that is considered  inappropriate or to give up a piece of themselves.

One drastic difference that refugee women must adapt to is a new kind of childrearing. “Childrearing customs and habits vary widely, and they’re not always acceptable here,” Tkachuk said. “Most of the places where these refugee women come from use more corporal punishment…so it’s harder, even, because they don’t have parenting strategies that are okay here.”

Clothing is another point of contention for many refugee women, specifically those escaping violence and turmoil in a primarily Muslim nation. Tkachuk has experienced this struggle secondhand in his time resettling refugees.

“Men are easy, because men will wear Western clothing,” he said. “We can get used or thrift store pants, shirts, and a suit coat for men, and they’re happy as clams…The women do not wear Western clothing.”

Adde, who wears long, flowing dresses in her office rather than Western slacks or a suit, agrees. “If you are a Muslim woman, you carry the tradition,” she said. “You cover your hair, you wear a long dress, and automatically you are a target of some fools who are racist. I think that people who are racist are very sick…There is no space in me for racism. I feel a human being is a human being. Woman carries tradition, so she is the number one target.”

After six months of working two jobs, sleeping only on the bus rides between shifts, and being harassed by her boss only to barely make enough money to pay her rent and put food on her table, Adde decided to leave Washington, D.C. Several of her friends from the refugee camp in Kenya had been resettled in Fargo, where they told her the rent was cheaper, the people were kinder, and the jobs were easier to find.

 “Good stuff” happened in Fargo

In December of 1997, in the middle of one of the city’s snowiest winters, Adde arrived in Fargo by bus. “Then, a lot of good stuff happened.” She found an apartment that cost $420 a month— half of the rent on her apartment in D.C. She got a full-time job working on a production line at Sheyenne Dakota, Inc. She began taking English classes in the evening. She got married and gave birth to her first child in 1998.

This life, while more pleasant and prosperous than the brief one she led in Washington, still bore its own disappointments.

“I lost my hope of being a nurse anymore,” Adde said. “I told my caseworker that I used to be a nurse, and I gave her all of my certificates. She tried to find me a job working somewhere close, a clinic or the family health center or something, she applied me to three jobs and I couldn’t get any jobs. It was fine with me, I said ‘to hell of it,’ you know?”

Adde took the CNA test without going to a single class.

She scored 100%.

Even after this feat, Adde was unable to find a job in the medical field. However, she knew that she was meant to do more than turn down sheets in hotel rooms, work night shifts at convenience stores, and assemble wires on a production line.  She took an over-the-phone interpreting job through Network Omni, a translation service company out of Oakland, California. She worked out of her apartment in Fargo, and spent her days bridging the language gap between non-English speakers and their employers, caseworkers, doctors.

“I was like that movie, ‘Bruce Almighty’” she said.  “I will hear everybody’s stories because I am interpreting. I would interpret somebody whose water was cut, and another one electricity cut, somebody broke their hip I am there, there is an accident or somebody’s getting a ticket I will be there. Somebody who is very sick in the hospital, somebody who’s kid ran away, everything.”

It became increasingly difficult for Adde to walk in the shoes of the disenfranchised for eight hours a day without becoming emotionally involved with her clients.

Fowzia Adde 2
In 2003, Adde won the WYCA Women of the Year award. Photo by Katie Beedy.

“When I see something wrong happening, I will interrupt,” she said. “I almost got in trouble a couple of times because they would say ‘Your job is to interpret, not to advocate. Stop caring for these people or you will lose your job.’ I said ‘Alright, I want to lose my job.’”

Adde left Network Omni without any idea what her next step would be. Without a job she had no money, but she still had to pay her rent. She was also sending money back to her mother and siblings in Africa every month.

Motivated by the stories she heard from her clients at Network Omni and her own experiences as a female refugee, Adde committed her time to volunteering with several groups in the Fargo-Moorhead area. She became a voice for the racially, sexually, and financially oppressed.

Adde picked up the trophy on her desk. “When I got this, I didn’t know I was a ‘Young Leader of Today,’” she said. “The women around me decided that. I was just volunteering. I would do everything.”

In 2003, the same year that she received the award from the YWCA, Adde’s volunteer work culminated in the creation of the Immigrant Development Center. Today, Adde and the IDC assist New Americans by providing funding and entrepreneurial training for those who wish to start businesses in the area. Some of the businesses that they have helped create include restaurants, ethnic grocery stores, and clothing stores.

“It came together because I have seen a lot of stuff that’s missing from the programs that are giving to the refugee community,” she said. “There is a need for an increase in programs. There is a need of making sure they have a chance. It’s not people who want to destroy this country…it’s people who decided to come to a land of opportunity, and want to make it better for their family, you know? They are hard workers. They are looking for chances to be given, and this is that chance. It’s for the believers.”

Programs to help women aren’t accessible

Asche explains that the lack of assistance available to refugee women in the Fargo-Moorhead area is not due to a lack of trying. “There are programs that are out there and there are programs that are available,” she says. “It’s just that they’re not accessible, either for financial reasons or just sheer need.” The Adult Learning Center, which offers English language classes to New

Americans, often fills to capacity. Southeast Human Services and the Rape and Abuse Crisis Center work with victims of sexual violence, a common occurrence with refugee women, but their resources are limited. Asche hopes to form a women’s group through the Consortium, where refugee women can talk about their experiences in a comfortable communal atmosphere. Again, money is her greatest obstacle.

 “You know, there’s nobody throwing around $400,000 to form a women’s program,” she says.

Ashe says that Adde’s success and her contributions to the F-M are just one example of the things refugee women can accomplish, if only they are given support and assistance.

“I think the number one top word for working with refugee women is ‘resilience’,” she said. “Just seeing how resilient they are, considering what they’ve been through. I still can’t imagine it. Sometimes I think I suffer secondhand just from hearing their story. I’m dumbfounded by how they can just come to a new place, not speak the language, sometimes not have a formal education, and then just achieve these really amazing accomplishments.”

Adde believes that this resilience is http://www.newamericanconsortium.org/wp-admin/post-new.phpat the core of the human spirit, and if one can find it, they can get through anything. Refugee women, and any other oppressed group, can fight through the hardship if only they believe in their own strength.

“I have seen what poor means,” she said. “What refugee means. What it means to be a low-income family in America. What it means to be a middle-income American. I am part of the American Dream. I put together a project that’s over a million and a half projects and I am achieving that for me. I was like, ‘you got it Fowzia. The rest is history, you know?”

This piece was written by Concordia College student Katie Beedy as part of an Investigating and Narrating the News course during the Spring of 2016 where students reported on refugee issues and stories in Fargo-Moorhead. To learn more about this project and read additional stories, visit their website at http://newamericanfm.wix.com/read

Community Gardens: Growing more than veggies

Community Gardens: Growing more than veggies
Growing Together
Volunteers and New Americans join together to work in the garden. Photo courtesy of Growing Together Facebook page.

It’s early February, the ground is covered in sticky-wet snow and the streets are sloppy from a week of 40-degree temperatures. This weather is unseasonably warm for the majority of the Fargo-Moorhead population. But for New Americans Zainab Alsudani and Alyaa Luaibi, Fargo is still chilly and they long for the ground to thaw and the sun to come out of hiding so they can eat freshly gardened produce like tomatoes and zucchini.

Once spring hits, and planting season begins, the Growing Together Community Garden will open so New Americans like Alsudani and Luaibi, who are both from Iraq, can have a place to get fresh vegetables that they helped grow.

Luaibi said she enjoys taking her kids to the community gardens because they get to help and it gives them something to do. She also likes the “organic and good” food she receives from gardening such as cucumbers, tomatoes, and zucchini.

The Growing Together Gardens were created in 2006 in part by Nola Storm and Jack Wood as a mission of their local church, Olivet Lutheran of Fargo. Storm had experience working with refugees by sponsoring refugees through church, working as a school social worker with Fargo Public Schools, and as an ELL instructor at Agassiz Adult Learning Center.

The idea of the garden began when Storm got in contact with Wood and decided they needed to do something for the refugee families who they felt were so disconnected from the rest of the community. Their first instinct was to garden because Wood is a “tomato genius,” according to Storm.

“Our first mission is always to build a sense of community,” Storm said. “The food is just a fabulous byproduct.”

More than fresh produce

What started as one 6-by-6-foot plot at Community Homes (a subsidized apartment complex in South Fargo that houses many New Americans) with only five families, the Growing Together franchise has grown exponentially in the last 10 years. Now more than 120 families are with the Growing Together program with their hands in five gardens around the area.

The plots provide easy access to New Americans all across Fargo with locations at Community Homes, Lutheran Social Services, Rabanus Park, and another in south Fargo due to a partnership with Catalyst Medical Center, according to Storm.

The gardens provide an opportunity for refugees from many different countries and native community members to work together toward a common goal. Storm said with a chuckle that the interactions over the years have been interesting. Cultural and language differences are two of the reasons interactions at the gardens can be difficult.

“It’s hard to be from another language and figure out how to forge new relationships,” Storm said.

Storm told a story about a man from Liberia who wasn’t able to learn people’s names very well. When asked why, he said of native community members, “you guys all look alike.”

In order to help break these language barriers, the Growing Together organizers split the volunteers and New American families up in to teams, so that they get a chance to interact with each other while keeping busy doing garden work. Even though they don’t speak the same language, being able to plant tomatoes as a team brings them together as neighbors, Storm said.

Despite those language barriers, Luaibi and Alsudani have been able to get more than just fresh produce from Growing Together.

“Yes, for me it’s helped meet different people,” Luaibi said. “I feel good. The gardens have helped me and my friend Zainab.”

At the gardens they have met other people from Iraq, Bhutan, Liberia, and even quite a few Americans.

Luaibi and Alsudani came to the U.S from Iraq in November 2013 with their husbands and children. They both said winter is still hard for them, and going to the gardens in the summer is a great opportunity. They started going to the community gardens in June of last year every Tuesday after they finished their classes at the Adult Learning Center.

Most of the refugees face the same adjustment problems. Storm described that often times their neighbors don’t talk to them, and when it is as cold as it is in the winter, many New Americans choose to stay in the warmth of their apartment.

“The garden gives New American families a sense of belonging, a place to go that means something, a way to practice what they know and English, and use their skills,” she said.

Storm tells a story about the big difference the gardens can make in the lives of New Americans. Several years ago, before the Growing Together garden was established at Community Homes, a Bhutanese family moved into an apartment there. The son told Storm that his father, who had been a farmer in his native country, saw a small lot behind the apartments and said: “Get me an ox. See that land?  I can get a farm.” The father became depressed when he found out he couldn’t do what he loved. But later, his family had gone to Wood’s house to help seed his garden. Storm said the Bhutanese man got a smile on his face, and said “I’m finally happy” because he was able to use his farming skills. That’s what growing together is about, Storm said.

Growing Together 2
Volunteers and New Americans collecting and sorting vegetables. Photo courtesy of Growing Together Facebook page.

Hard work, big rewards

The gardens take a lot of work. All of the organizers go to each garden once a week to check on the crops. They also meet year round with their members to keep the involvement going. Recently, they even had a holiday party.

Because the summer is short and the program is so large, all the work for the week on one garden must be done in a day. Volunteers and New Americans come to the garden to weed, water, seed and other important work.  

When the gardens first started, volunteers and New Americans would do the work, and then serve a huge meal to all those who helped. Now that the members of the gardens are as plentiful as their tomatoes, they have PBJ’s and salads. Sometimes, New American families will even bring traditional dishes to share.

As far as distributing the harvests go, Growing Together has had to adjust their system for the numbers. Storm said after all the veggies are picked distribution lines are created for the produce to be collected by each family, who receives a bag and container for their share. The amount of produce each family receives depends on the amount of hours they put in to the garden work, to make it fair across the board.  

Sometimes, even the simplest of activities like collecting the vegetables they helped plant can bring back hurtful memories from the refugee camps. Storm said when they first started using the distribution lines it made some of the New Americans anxious due to memories of having to collect rations in the camps. Storm, Wood, and the rest of the Growing Together Team had to adjust to these reactions, and most of the refugees understood that everyone is getting their share of the plot.

Many New Americans hear about the garden through word of mouth via a neighbor, a friend, or another community organization. Luaibi and Alsudani were told about the gardens by one of their teachers at the Adult Learning Center. No matter how the New Americans learn about the gardens, they come to them looking for more community.

With a deep breath and tears forming in her eyes, Storm describes her favorite part of working with New Americans at Growing Together “They have so much resilience,” she said. “It has strengthened my faith that the human spirit can rise above the terrible things and be grateful for the little things.

“Refugees love this country and are so thankful to be here – they want to meet their neighbors – they want the same things we do,” she said. “I am so grateful, and amazed of these people every day.”

Below are addresses for each of the four main Growing Together Community Gardens:


Address: 702 23rd St. S., Fargo


Address: 3910 25th St. S., Fargo


Address: 3911 20th Ave. S., Fargo


Address: 4415 18th Ave. S., Fargo


This piece was written by Concordia College student Paige Olson as part of an Investigating and Narrating the News course taught by Catherine McMullen during the Spring of 2016. To learn more about this project and read additional stories, visit their website at http://newamericanfm.wix.com/read

Refugees face long, grueling process

Refugees face long, grueling process

In February 2014, Faris Alghanimi left his job in Bagdad, escaping the danger of the Taliban to face a new challenge: The U.S. immigration system.

Alghanimi was born in Iraq and lived in Bagdad most of his life. In 2011 he began to feel he was no longer safe in his country. In May, he applied for refugee status. In order to gain refugee status, a person must meet several criteria laid out by Article 1 of the 1951 United Nations Convention “owing to well-founded fear of being persecuted for reasons of race, religion, nationality, membership of a particular social group or political opinion, is outside the country of his nationality and is unable or, owing to such fear, is unwilling to avail himself of the protection of that country.”

The United States has been accepting refugees since World War II. North Dakota has brought in more refugees per capita than any other state in the nation. The number of refugees brought in has varied year to year.  However, since 2009, of the 19 million refugees in the world, the number admitted into the United States has been very close to 75,000 every year. Over half of these are from Bhutan, according to documents provided by Lutheran Social Services of North Dakota. The process that refugees go through to get to the United States is many times decades long, extremely dangerous, and rarely successful. Every piece of their past is checked, both by the U.N. and by the U.S. and once they get here, if they get here, they are thrown into another arena where they fight for jobs, respect, and a happy life, rather than for survival.

Refugees must make it through all nine of these major steps in order to begin a new life in the U.S. Graphic courtesy of Lutheran Social Services.


According to Saurav Dahal, a Special Projects Manager at Lutheran Social Services, many refugees who arrive in the United States come with stories filled with blood and anguish. During a presentation he gave on the refugee process, Dahal read this passage told by a 13-year-old refugee:

“I remember running through the streets that were once so shiny and so beautiful, now turning into bloody mess. I saw people on the ground yelling, ‘Please help me’. I watched in horror, praying to God that I’m just dreaming and for him to get me out of this nightmare. But no, the smell of burning buildings and the noise of tanks rushing down the streets and the blood of the wounded soldiers made it too real. That is the worst feeling of all, watching people die and there is nothing you can do about it. From that day and now, nothing will ever be the same.”

Since fleeing death is a requirement to become a refugee, this kind of story is common. “Most refugees you talk to or meet have seen or have had that experience where they have faced violence or had their family members killed or their loved ones killed,” Dahal said.

Alghanimi’s fear of persecution came from the Taliban, who roamed much of the country. “I worked with the U.N., which was in a very secure region, but when I get out [of that region], the terrorists would think I worked with the U.S. Embassy or Iraqi government and they’d start to do something bad to me. That is why I applied to get my refugee status,” Alghanimi said.

Alghanimi worked for the U.N., where he helped give jobs to people in poor communities by starting U.N.-funded projects in those same communities. Later, he worked for a program funded by the U.S. while still in Bagdad working with people displaced by the Iraq conflict.

In most cases, to apply for refugee status a person must already be outside of their home country. This escape is usually very dangerous, and many die trying to get out. “Of course not everybody makes it,” Dahal said.  “We have all heard the story of the Syrian boy found on the shore, a four-year-old, that basically went viral, and we hear of incidents where boats capsize and people die.”

Once reaching a refugee camp outside of their home country, they must register with the United Nations High Commission for Refugees. Once a person gives proof that they are fleeing persecution in their home country to the UNHCR, they will be given refugee status, Dahal said. However, gaining refugee status is nowhere near the end of the journey. Life as a refugee is uncomfortable and full of danger. According to documents from LSS, many refugee camps are under-supplied and over-crowded, have poor security, and have only very basic healthcare and education. People living in the camps are not able to work outside of the camp, and are constantly exposed to disease.

“Refugee camps are not a solution,” Dahal said. “When you see a camp a number of things come to your mind such as law and order, basic supplies, healthcare . . . there is not enough to make a sustainable living for the rest of your life and for your children and grandchildren.”

It took Alghanimi three years between gaining refugee status and getting to come to America. However, those years seemed very long. “You do not feel safe there. I had to change my car every six months to hide [from the Taliban].”

Three years is an incredibly short amount of time to be accepted into a host country. Dahal said that many refugees spend upwards of 20 years in refugee camps waiting to be resettled. “Many Bhutanese refugees we have helped, their children are in their mid-twenties, they have never seen Bhutan. They have never been to Bhutan. The only thing they know is about Nepal, but they are not a Nepali. They are from Bhutan.”

However, refugees from Iraq do not have to go to refugee camps because there is a working government there, Dahal said. In fact, many of the world’s refugees are not in camps. They are in big cities and are referred to as urban refugees. According to the UNHCR website, “Like 3.3 billion other people on Earth, they have been steadily moving to cities and towns, a trend that has accelerated since the 1950s.”

The benefits for urban refugees include opportunities for making money and a greater chance of anonymity, but those advantages come with heavy downsides. Living in cities can make it harder for refugees to make their way to the UNHCR agencies to get help. Also, even though urban refugees and those living in camps have the same rights, the UNHCR website claims “Refugees may not have legal documents that are respected, they may be vulnerable to exploitation, arrest and detention.”


Once a person files for refugee status, they have to go through rounds of interviews with the UNHCR to determine if they actually qualify as refugees, according to the U.N. Stephen Baird, an immigration lawyer in Fargo, explains that most refugees do not pass through this part of the resettlement process and onto the U.S. immigration system. “The failure rate for people going through the U.N. system is extremely high, like 95 percent,” Baird said.

After a refugee passes through the UNCHR, they are put into host countries’ immigration systems. They generally do not go anywhere until a country has processed and accepted their application. Each country a refugee applies to individually processes the refugee and determines his or her eligibility to come to their country. According to Baird, refugees have no real input on where they end up. Once a country finishes their processing, that refugee has to decide whether to go to that country. “They can decline, they don’t have to take [the invitation], but if they do then they are betting on whatever country they prefer to go to will accept them. Most people won’t do that, they just go wherever they can and make a new life wherever they end up,” Baird said.

Once passed into the U.S. immigration system, a refugee has to go through many more layers of investigation, Baird said. This starts with filling out forms that establish identification, which can be a challenge. “Most people do not have forms of I.D., birth certificates, anything to back this up, so what they are filling in on the form is backed by nothing but yes, this really is my name.”

Baird said most refugees come from countries that have been having problems for a long time and there is no way to ever confirm these people’s identities. This can be especially problematic when refugees do not remember their real identity. “People may not know for sure when they were born, or they may not know for sure where they were born, or one or both parents are long gone and they don’t know who they were anymore.”

To be considered by the U.S. service, they must fit the U.S. definition of a refugee, which differs in slight ways to the U.N. definition, Dahal said. For example, being displaced by famine will qualify someone as a refugee by the U.N.; however, the U.S. would label that as economic migration, and therefore anyone displaced by famine is not eligible for resettlement in the U.S.

Just like the U.N. process, the U.S. immigration process for refugees also has a very high rejection rate, Baird said. People will often be turned away if they have had any past legal problems, or were involved in a conflict as a combatant or belligerent. Further, the U.S. accepts a limited number of refugees each year. The Proposed Refugee Admissions Report by the U.S. State Department says the ceiling for the number of refugees admitted will be 85,000 for the 2016 fiscal year. That is up from 70,000 in 2015. So far, according to a report posted by the Refugee Processing Center in the U.S., as of April 1, 2016, 29,055 refugees from around the world have been admitted into the U.S. during the 2016 fiscal year.


According to the official website for the White House, refugees go through the highest level of security checks of any category of traveler coming to the United States. First, refugees must go through several background checks conducted by the FBI, State Department, National Counterterrorism Center, and the Department of Homeland security. After these, every time new information about an applicant surfaces, such as a previously used name or an old phone number, they have to go through background checks again, according to the site. After this there is a round of interviews with U.S. officials and fingerprints are collected. According to Baird, if at any point, there is doubt about refugees’ security risks they are turned away.

Refugees go through the most intensive screening process compared to any other immigrant to the U.S. Graphics courtesy of whitehouse.gov

If a refugee makes it past the interviews and security checks, they undergo medical screening and are matched with a sponsor agency, Baird said. The refugees that are accepted are resettled into the U.S. through one of several nonprofit agencies, such as LSS. Where they eventually end up, according to Baird, often depends on whether the refugees already have friends or family in the U.S. and what places have the best economic conditions and infrastructure to handle the influx of people.

However, being rejected from the U.N. or U.S. systems does not have to spell the end for refugees. “These people that get rejected out of the U.S. or U.N. systems, a lot of them do end up refugees in other places,” Baird said.

Being placed in a new home country is a common way for refugees to be resettled, but it is not the only way. Dahal said that there are three ways refugees can be resettled. One is the way we are familiar with in America, where a host country takes in a refugee and that is their new home. A second way is called voluntary repatriation. This is when a refugee decides that they are willing to reintegrate into their home country after what drove them out has calmed. Voluntary repatriation is the least common way for resettlement, Dahal said, because the conflicts that force these people out usually last for decades. The last way resettlement happens, and also the most common, is integration into the host country where the refugee first fled to. For an example of the last resettlement option, turn to Nepal. Nepal has a refugee camp with many Bhutanese refugees, and Nepal is the most popular country for those refugees to resettle in, Dahal said.

The United States is currently the only country that accepts refugees from Iraq, according to Dahal. This means for Alghanimi, being accepted for resettlement by the U.S. was his only hope of living a safe life. Luckily for him, he was accepted.

Alghanimi has been in Fargo now for more than two years. Working with refugees, which was the reason he was targeted by the Taliban in Iraq, is something he continues to do in the U.S. Now he works with LSS as a translator, enjoying the biggest perk of his new job: safety.


This piece was written by Concordia College student Tyler Aldous as part of an Investigating and Narrating the News course taught by Catherine McMullen during the Spring of 2016. To learn more about this project and read additional stories, visit their website at http://newamericanfm.wix.com/read

Community partnership helps refugees adjust and succeed

Community partnership helps refugees adjust and succeed

This is one in a series of articles written by eleven Concordia College students during a semester-long advanced reporting class taught by Catherine McMullen at Concordia College in Moorhead, MN. These pieces explore refugee resettlement in the Fargo-Moorhead area. As an introduction to this project, McMullen states that these articles “…do not attempt to provide the definitive study on the topic, but rather explore various aspects of refugee resettlement through the stories of people who know the topic on a first-hand and deeply personal basis.” Read more here.

Every refugee who resettles in Fargo-Moorhead makes the same first stop on their journey to become a part of the community:  Lutheran Social Services. But that’s not where it ends. There are many stops New Americans can make to receive support so that assimilating to life in Fargo-Moorhead is a bit easier.

Lutheran Social Services helps approximately 400 refugees resettle in North Dakota each year. After all the paperwork is signed at LSS, refugees need assistance from the community too, which they receive from numerous community partnerships and nonprofits around Fargo-Moorhead. Several organizations, volunteers, and community members provide those extra steps to New Americans after LSS has done their work. Often times, they even partner together. The LSS website reports that in 2015, 113 volunteers donated over 10,000 hours of service to assist LSS in resettlement work.

“The volunteer agencies who were responsible for the resettlement work discovered early on that in order to be most effective with resettlement there had to be community support for integrating individuals who were resettled into the community,” said Shirley Dykshoorn, vice president for senior and humanitarian services at LSS.

Dykshoorn was also the State Refugee Coordinator in North Dakota in the 1980’s. These volunteer agencies, including LSS, have since been dedicated to finding New Americans support for learning English, gaining employment, and finding housing.

Fargo-Moorhead is home to New Americans from several different countries such as Bhutan, Sudan, The Democratic Republic of the Congo, Liberia, and Iraq. Dykshoorn said that most of the time when a refugee comes to the country the only possessions that they have are the clothes on their backs and a bag of medical records and paperwork for LSS. Everything else has to be provided by LSS or the community so that the New Americans can become self-sufficient individuals.

LSS provides refugees with the basics like housing, coats, groceries, job placement, and education right away, but it takes much more than that. “What refugees need most is to feel welcome and feel a source of support,” Dykshoorn said. “Money is not enough.”

Changes in the process

Darci Asche, Director of Development at the New American Consortium for Wellness and Empowerment Center (WE Center) has assisted refugees for most of her life and noticed how the refugee resettlement processes in the community has changed over the years.

“Back then (1980’s) refugees couldn’t come to the US without a church sponsor,” Asche said.

Asche grew up in small town in North Dakota where the local Catholic Church started assisting refugees after the Vietnam War. Her family hosted one of the New American families and Asche began helping them with English. She then joined the Women of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America to help refugees. After that, Asche was led to LSS where she began to volunteer. Later she received a full time position and for 20 years was head of refugee resettlement and foster care. She later joined the WE Center to be a part of the resources available to refugees after LSS.

Several nonprofits in town are dedicated to the growth and development of the New American population in a variety of ways, such as the New American Consortium of Wellness and Empowerment, CHARISM (Community of Homes And Resources in Service to Many), and Growing Together Community Gardens. Each one provides New Americans with their secondary steps in being a part of the community.

“LSS helps New Americans with registration and government help and paperwork, (and) we offer resources like life skills and building relationships in the community,” said Andrea Jang, community outreach coordinator for CHARISM.

Even though the agencies have different roles, all have similar elements. They provide New Americans with a chance to have more education, build relationships, and receive necessities to live a full life in the community.

The WE Center: A place for nurturing

The New American Consortium of Wellness and Empowerment, or WE Center, is one of the newest organizations, which started because of “mutual and unique needs of the Bhutanese, Somali, and African populations,” Asche said.

The WE Center is actually a partnership between five refugee community organizations: the African Initiative for Progress, the Somali Community Development Center of North Dakota, the Bhutanese Community in Fargo, the Global Youth United, and the Giving + Learning Foundation.*

“We provide a place for them in their own ethnic groups outside their apartments while also giving them a chance to connect with more communities,” Asche said.

The Consortium is built upon two pillars. The first is wellness—physical, spiritual, and emotional. Physical wellness is reached through health education, youth soccer programs, a partnership with Growing Together Gardens, and mental and physical healing through yoga classes. Spiritual wellness at the WE Center means art classes and cultural conversations. Emotional wellness refers refugees to different health services.

Women helping each other to study for the citizenship tests at the WE center. Photo by Paige Olson.
Women helping each other study for the citizenship tests at the WE Center.

The second pillar is all about empowerment through education, socialization, and occupation assistance. Educational and social empowerment opportunities include ELL classes and language exchanges where New Americans can teach other members from different cultures in their native tongue. They also provide afterschool programs, summer mentoring assistance, citizenship classes, and immigration services. Occupational empowerment is provided through job skill development like resume building, mock interviews, and employment referrals.

“We started plugging ideas for what the WE Center would be and what their (refugees) needs were,” Asche said, “Leadership and development was needed to connect with greater community of refugees needs.”

CHARISM: Building community and relationships

CHARISM was created 22 years ago by local churches and the Community Homes subsidized housing complex in South Fargo. Their first goal was to provide programming for low-income families in the neighborhood. Once refugees started moving into the area, the needs of the community shifted. That’s when CHARISM began offering services primarily to New Americans and their families. Today, their overall mission is building connections with the neighborhood.

“We’re really relationship based, like a big family,” Jang said. “I started out volunteering three hours a week with the grocery assistance program, became addicted to helping families, so quit my full time job at NDSU and started working here.”

CHARISM’s programs for New Americans serve people from over 23 countries such as Nepal, Bhutan, and several African countries, Jang said. They have afterschool programs for youth, tutoring and citizenship classes, STEM and English programs, grocery assistance, and a gardening program which Growing Together helped get started.

Each class has around 20 students who learn more than just English. Jang said the classes teach girls and boys about their different strengths.

CHARISM holds many opportunities for New Americans. Submitted.
CHARISM hosts an event for New Americans. Photo courtesy of CHARISM’s Facebook page.

Partnerships with the other community programs for New Americans are also important to CHARISM. Carl Ben Eielson and Discovery Middle Schools, the YWCA, Fargo Park District, Fargo Police Department, Community Homes, and Great Plains Food Bank are all connected with CHARISM’s work with refugees.

“We wouldn’t be able to function without them,” Jang said.

Great Plains Food Bank delivers all of the nonperishable items to CHARISM to assist with their grocery program. According to their website, each Tuesday and Friday residents in need from the neighborhood can go to CHARISM and receive the donated food.

CHARISM offers several volunteer opportunities. Paid positions are available for mentors and tutors, and they always need people to help out with the grocery program Jang said.

Giving goes both ways

More assistance for New Americans include the people and places such as the Fargo Rotarians, Agassiz Adult Learning Center and Carl Ben Eielson schools, Olivet Lutheran and Bethel Evangelical Free churches.

Asche identified the two major challenges for New Americans to be learning English and transportation. That’s why so much of the help from the community includes opportunities to gain better speaking, reading, and writing skills as well as transportation services.

According to the LSS website, The Rotarians donate computers, language software, and time to teach English to New Americans. Carl Ben, Discovery, and Agassiz are a few of many schools that have ELL classes for New American students.

Programs like Project Boaz assist in the transportation need. Olivet Lutheran Church and Bethel Evangelical Free Church team up every summer with their community and congregations to work together by collecting and restoring bicycles for New Americans.

“This is such a wonderful and tangible way that the community gives back,” Dykshoorn said.

Olivet Lutheran is also part of creating the Growing Together Community Gardens. The gardens offer New Americans a chance to work on one six community gardens where they get a chance to meet other refugees and native Fargo-Moorhead people and gain fresh veggies that they helped plant.

There are endless stops New Americans can make in this community to receive the skills and necessities to succeed, but there is just one other thing they need to become successful.

“We need everyone to have an open mind and treat them just as we would any other neighbor,” Jang said “People need to realize that they are so hardworking and really want to succeed here.”

This piece was written by Concordia College student Paige Olson as part of an Investigating and Narrating the News course during the Spring of 2016 where all students reported on refugee issues and stories in Fargo-Moorhead. To learn more about this project and read additional stories, visit their website at http://newamericanfm.wix.com/read

*Editor’s Note: The WE Center’s member organizations are currently African Initiative for Progress, the Djibouti Community, Global Youth United, and Giving + Learning.


Resiliency and Growth in New American Communities

Resiliency and Growth in New American Communities

maryannprofileMaryann Harris is resilient. When she moved to Fargo four years ago, she began working in Sanford’s critical care unit. “I decided too many people are dying and too many people are just really sick. … I didn’t feel like that’s what I wanted to do, so I switched to prevention,” Harris said. Harris graduated with a Master’s in Public Health this last Spring from NDSU. Instead of walking away from a stressful situation, Harris resolved to pursue a different direction.

Harris described this resiliency: “Back home, you’re taught to aim for the sky. And sometimes even though that is not in focus—you don’t even know if that’s gonna happen or not—but you just grow up hearing it. And it gives you that idea that there’s something beyond this place and [you] want to access it. And then when you come here [the US], with all that in your head, it’s very hard for you to just sit down and not do anything. So you find yourself pushing through even when you have tough times.… This is the goal and you have everything in you to accomplish it.”

As a founding member of the New American Consortium for Wellness and Empowerment, Harris’s resiliency has served her well.  In addition to her studies at NDSU, Harris volunteers 40 hours per week at the Consortium’s office and programming space, the WE Center. She is the Consortium’s program director, and has established programs including in-school mentoring, and is currently working to create more volunteering and social opportunities. She is also available to help with the miscellaneous needs of those who come to the WE Center. The need for volunteers is most apparent when there are more people in the WE Center who need help than can be helped. From the Consortium’s website: the WE Center is named for wellness and empowerment, but also for “we,” a community.

Sitting with Harris, it becomes clear just how important the community and cultural aspect is to the WE Center.

Harris had a crash course in culture clash when she emigrated from Liberia in 2002, at age sixteen. She was enrolled in the school system mid-semester. Harris already knew English and could understand her teachers, but due to her accent she had to speak slowly to be understood by her teachers and peers. The rules of respect were different, too. The first time she saw someone talk back to a teacher, she was shocked that it had happened. She was even more surprised when instead of disciplining the student, all the teacher could do was send him out of the class. Her accent and cultural habits had an isolating effect, and she felt like an outsider in her school. Math was Harris’s strong subject, and eventually it helped her to build friendships.

Harris recalled her first day of math class in the US. All the textbooks had been handed out for the semester, and there were no extras left over. Someone would have to share with her. No one volunteered to share resulting in the teacher having to assign someone to share their textbook with her. “She didn’t really look happy, but she did [share].” Harris said. As the class period went on, Harris seemed to know the answer to every question. After the first exam, grades were posted alongside each student’s ID number. Harris had busted the curve. Her classmates found out, and that’s how she started to make friends.

As the eldest of five, Harris saw first-hand the unique ways that different age groups adapt to a new culture. Harris came to the US with her parents and siblings. She believes that younger children have the easiest time of it.  “There’s not a lot of things kids, American kids their age, would do differently. So it’s easy,” Harris said.  Older adults often don’t do much adapting at all aside from language acquisition, since they had already developed their ideas and habits in their native culture.  Teenagers, though, have a foot in both worlds. They aren’t set in their ways like their parents and grandparents, but they have invested much more time into the old culture than the younger ones have. Harris said the things that a teenager doesn’t change, the things they carry with them even into a new culture, says a lot about their beliefs and who they are. “That is a value that you just can’t compromise on,” Harris said.

Some of the values Harris hasn’t compromised on since coming to America include her resiliency, sense of community, and respect for elders. Many New Americans hold on to similar values. They build close-knit ethnic communities within the host community. The WE Center’s idea of community involves integrating the ethnic and host communities, in a way that empowers New Americans and enriches Fargo culture.

To help with integration, the WE Center hosts cultural events. Harris explained that many New Americans don’t speak English well, and to be misunderstood is embarrassing. It’s a struggle to be understood, so it’s easier to stay at home and avoid the situation. With cultural events, the host community comes into the multicultural setting, and the dynamic is shifted. Within the WE Center, someone can take the time to explain part of their culture, something familiar to them in a comfortable setting, and this begins to build relationships with the host community. “You can see someone somewhere else … and be like ‘I remember you, we had a little chat.’” Harris said.

It’s the little things that make the biggest difference when integrating a community. For many New Americans, what they need most isn’t an academic tutor. The WE Center provides multiple resources and opportunities to help New Americans effectively integrate themselves into Fargo. There are often participating in these efforts, and the WE Center is always on the lookout for new volunteers. Harris said she has helped so many people understand their taxes that she had to turn some away. Practical conversation practice is important, too. It involves talking through typical daily conversation that might happen at school, at work, at the store, or other common settings. Even something as simple as being available to drive someone to a doctor’s appointment, accompany them to the grocery store, or recommend a business can have a huge positive impact.

Through her work with the New American Consortium for Wellness and Empowerment, Maryann Harris has helped to support Fargo’s New American communities, to integrate them into the larger Fargo community, and to empower individuals to better their lives. Harris’s resilience, the resilience that many New Americans bring with them, is a driving force in Fargo’s growing multicultural community.

Written by North Dakota State University English students Erika Fieldhammer, Alex Lien, and Afton Samson

Standing Palm-in-Palm

Standing Palm-in-Palm

Lending a helping hand in the journey from isolation to connection

Laxman Adhikari was only two and a half years old when civil war spread in Bhutan and he was torn from his home. Bhutan’s government declared Buddhism the official religion; Laxman and many others from the Hindu community were forced to leave the country. Many years spent in a Nepal refugee camp gave Laxman an emotional understanding of the distressing journey that many New American’s have faced. “They feel so lonely, like I feel before when I first come to the United States. I feel so lonely and miss so many friends, it’s so difficult to get adapted to a new community.”

LaxmanLaxman 1 is motivated through his experiences to help others adapt to their new communities. He passionately calls to others to help him in his quest. “Come and join me and help our community in the rainy days.”

Each member of Laxman’s family was uniquely affected by the Civil war in Bhutan, leaving their way of life behind. His grandfather was a senator of the country at the time. One of his uncles worked in the health field and another uncle was a college professor. His mother and father owned a large, simple farm in Bhutan. When they were forced to leave they had to give up their animals, their house, and their property. Laxman’s memory of the exile is limited, but he recalls the agony of his family members as they fled their homes. “It’s kind of pretty difficult for them to tolerate all this big pain because they got to sacrifice everything… and carry the little kids in their arms and leave the country with their eyes full of tears.”

After leaving Bhutan, Laxman and his family traveled west to Nepal. Laxman talks of the difficulty they faced upon arriving in Nepal. “When they first come to Nepal, they don’t get enough to eat, actually they get a palm full of rice and they got to live their life with a palm full of rice”

“Leave the country with their eyes full of tears”

Laxman spent 19 years in a Nepal refugee camp, receiving an education from Caritas Nepal, an organization close to his heart. Despite the restrictions of the camp, Laxman received two years of a bachelor’s degree while in Nepal. Life was not easy, their community was built out of tents. “Plastic and bamboo sticks and the flooring is mud. Sometimes when the wind comes it blows everything and we got to re-establish the same kind of camp, need to help our community members too. It’s kind of difficult. If I start remembering all of these things it makes me cry.”

Before coming to the United States, many New Americans have an image in their mind of what it will be like. Laxman’s own image of the United States was that of a “crazy California” and a “cold North Dakota”. The transition to California proved to be a hectic one for Laxman. The resettlement laxman 2services he was provided were limited; he was left to complete paperwork and applications on his own. It took him almost 6 months to find a job. “It’s pretty difficult to find a job in California actually. I used to have an old bike that time and I used to ride the bike all day and carrying my resume in the back just going to every single store and saying ‘do you guys have job?’”

Eventually, Laxman found a job as a cashier at a small gas station. Slowly, he began going to college and received an Associate’s Degree of Massage Therapy. Laxman continued his journey, moving from California to North Dakota.

North Dakota is surely cold, as Laxman has stated, but it still offers the warm comforts of home. The streets of Fargo consist of a variety of culturally specific markets. Finding their culture in Fargo allows New Americans to reform their image of what it’s like to live in the United States. “Their culture is still alive, so there’s nothing bad about moving to the United States,” Laxman says.

Laxman’s own culture is still prominent in his life, while also being involved in the Fargo community holding two full time jobs. As a patient representative for the Family HealthCare Center, Laxman connected with his now wife. They were able to have a traditional wedding, making them man and wife by their cultural standards. Although still needing to fill out the legal marriage documents, Laxman happily states that while in Fargo “he got his girl”. “Fargo gave me a lot, I got to be more thankful for Fargo than I did to California… I find my girl. I like her when I first saw her. Love at first sight.” Laxman hopes to see others realize that the community can help them find the comforts of home.

Due to this passion, he became involved in the WE Center. Laxman is able to see the challenges presented to New Americans in their transition, having faced many difficulties in California.  He recognizes the importance of communication; tutoring and simple conversation can make a big difference. Laxman is familiar with the isolation that language barriers can cause. The WE Center supports this by assisting in job applications, citizenship tutoring, and everyday tasks such as grocery shopping.

“Got to live their life with a palm full of rice”

Frustration with the struggles faced in common tasks can lead to a feeling of isolation in New Americans. Connecting in our solitude bridges the divide between cultures. The WE Center allows New Americans to interact with people in their community, creating friendships that establish networks. It also enables Fargo community members to help New Americans regain control of their lives and uplift their spirits. Laxman believes that everyone can relate to the feeling of loneliness. New Americans in the community face troubles similar to Americans everywhere. Emotion is universal; solitude in sorrow is not exclusive. “Yeah we have the same kind of issues. We have the same problems.” Fargo community members can help New Americans navigate our unfamiliar city.

Unfamiliarity can be frightening. Laxman would like to see a social movement to end isolation and hopelessness in many New Americans of the Fargo community. Images of the hardship that have brought these New Americans to tears in the past come back to them daily. Laxman calls to volunteers to spend time with them. Share the pain, share the tears, and give them hope to create a new image. As a refugee who has made the journey from Nepal to the United States and has felt isolation and found connection, Laxman calls to the community to come together and stand palm-in-palm. “Motivate them, give some kind of inspiration, and [tell them], ‘you’re going to be all right tomorrow.’”

Written by North Dakota State University English students Ashley McCoy, Samantha Hamernick, and Nicholas Breault

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By Refugees, For Refugees: What’s Your Role?

By Refugees, For Refugees: What’s Your Role?
Christian in front of The WE Center.

In December 1989, Charles Taylor’s National Patriotic Front of Liberia (NPFL) invaded Liberia, marking the start of a civil war.  War raged from 1989 to 2003, killing 250,000 families of men, women, and children.  Government armies and rebel groups especially targeted the media for publishing articles articulating the destruction of Liberians.

Christian Harris, a Liberian journalist of 18 years at the time, found himself in the middle of the war in 1990.  “The government blamed the journalists for spreading misinformation, but we were spreading the facts, telling people where the rebels were and what was happening,” he said recently in an interview.

Christian fled to Minnesota, leaving behind beloved family and friends to start a new life.  “For two years I was here and my family was in Liberia.  There was constant fighting and killing there,” he said.  “I was trying to send money to my family, but I could not find a job.  When I finally got a job I had to make sure they were safe.”  After two years, he was able to move his family to the United States with him.

“We had to leave the country for our safety.”

Christian said, “I still wanted to be the voice of the people.  I knew my journalism career would be difficult in the United States, but I could do other things.”

He then moved to Fargo, where he founded, and is now the Executive Director of, the New American Consortium for Wellness and Empowerment (WE Center).

The WE Center is an umbrella organization for Ethnic Community-Based Organizations, with fifteen board members.   The members are currently The African Initiative for Progress (AIP), Giving+Learning, and Global Youth United.

The WE Center is a gathering place for refugees and New Americans within the Fargo-Moorhead community.  Its purpose is to aid and empower people new to America. The WE Center is unique because it was founded by a refugee, for refugees.  “We lived a refugee life.  We lived in refugee camps.  We came with the mental stress.  We come with the same need for celebration.  We come with that unique drive to get things done—to help others.”  Christian said, smiling his contagious smile.

Christian takes pride in his ability to relate to refugees that seek the WE Center’s help, saying, “We never say no here at the WE Center, because if you say no to a refugee, they will feel so hopeless and lost.  We are living reality of what transpired in our lives.”

The WE Center thrives on building relationships with refugees.  It connects New Americans to organizations in the Fargo-Moorhead community aimed at fostering Wellness and Empowerment.

According to the Fargo Forum, North Dakota takes in more refugees relative to its population than any other state.  Our large refugee population needs resources, and the WE Center is here to provide that.

“The WE Center is used as a community space for all of us New Americans,” Christian said.  “This is a place we all come and meet, share, and share knowledge, and talk about where we can go from here.  We want to share food, and share fun, and have a wonderful time.  Other communities have come [to the WE Center] and held their meetings to strengthen community involvement into the real life situation.”

“We are very proud of our center, and that’s what we are here for.”

The WE Center is run almost solely by volunteers; there are few permanent employees.  Christian laughed when we asked him what his days consisted of.  He said, “I’m everywhere; that’s the fun part of it.”  Darci Asche, the Director of Development writes grants and seeks donations.

Christian participating in Welcome Week 2015 with Welcomers Norah Ogunti (center) and Korto Parker (right).

“We rely on [volunteers] heavily for this kind of support level.”

The WE Center’s volunteers provide tutoring for refugees of all ages, keeping kids in school and helping adults with English language tutoring, help with studying for their citizenship tests and permit tests, and much more.  The WE Center can also help businesses that are having trouble with New American employees who may be having trouble adjusting to our culture.  These services help refugees to become functional members of our community.  With the variety of services the WE Center provides, they are always looking for monetary donations and new volunteers.

“My mother always said, ‘Money speaks many languages.’”  Christian said when discussing donations.  “When you have money you can do a lot.  When we have that support coming our way it is very helpful.”

The value of human interaction was clearly stated when Christian spoke with us about his first experience moving to the United States.  Although he already spoke English, he faced cultural challenges.

The transition from Liberia to the United States was not easy, and Christian noted a difference quickly.

When Christian moved to the United States, people saw him as different.  Even those who had met him before would pass him by in public areas when he tried to stop and say hello, only occasionally smiling an acknowledgement

This is very different from Liberia, where Christian said people are very open and stopping to chat in public is polite and friendly.  Also, being a public figure like a journalist meant people knew him, he said.  Because people were so different here, Christian became shy and introverted, unwilling to speak to others unless they spoke to him first.

One day, Christian got onto a small elevator with an older woman.  Frowning down at his feet, Christian didn’t say a word.  The woman elbowed Christian lightly and said, “Can you say something? Can you smile with me?”  Christian smiled and chatted with the woman on the short elevator ride.

“That changed my life,” Christian said, smiling back on the memory.  He explained the significance of the seemingly insignificant interaction that left him full of hope.  He got his confidence back that day.  The woman helped Christian to open up to others, to try being friendly once again. This time, it worked.  Christian thrives around other people and his positive energy is contagious.

Christian likes to describe the WE Center as a “bridge” between the New Americans and the communities.  He says they exists to give helpful information to those who are looking to start lives here—whether it be to buy a house or a meal.

When discussing the corporate community, the Executive Director just wants organizations to know the WE Center’s existence, and to offer services.

Christian notes that he already had a Bachelor’s degree when he came to America, and that he was lucky to be able to navigate decently on his own.  Unfortunately, many New Americans have trouble just opening a bank account.

“We have had challenges getting connected to the community.  But I am proud of the volunteers for help,” Christian said.   While voicing multiple times his appreciation for volunteers, we noticed the small building and few chairs around one big table.  The WE Center does not even have a sign outside the building.

Christian smiled when we began to conclude the interview.  He said the Fargo-Moorhead community just needs to know that the WE Center exists.

“We are here with an open heart and an open hand, willing to work and enjoy the growth in our relationship.”

When asked what he values most in life, Christian simply stated, “Family and friends. The more people I know, the happier I am.”  Christian has demonstrated this with his dedication to helping others through the WE Center, as well as through his time working as a journalist.

Written by North Dakota State University English students Maggie Crippen, Anna Melicher, and Larissa Vculek

Student, Teacher, Wife, Mother, Volunteer….Refugee

Student, Teacher, Wife, Mother, Volunteer….Refugee
The Flag of Uganda

Fawzia Riji came to America as a refugee at the tender age of eight. Due to this, she has a unique perspective on the struggles of the refugees who are trying to adjust to the Fargo community-she has personally seen the fears and challenges that must be gone through in order to find safety in America. In an effort to give back to the Fargo community and help refugees, Fawzia has found a passion volunteering for the Wellness & Empowerment Center. Her compassion is shown through patience when helping the refugees do tasks such as learning to speak English. She reassures them that “they will get there eventually” when they are struggling to grasp the language. Fawzia gets a great sense of happiness and accomplishment from the small victories she see amongst the refugees. When looking to the future of the WE Center she couldn’t highlight the need for volunteers enough. Fawzia gives as much of her time as she possibly can to volunteering but still wishes she could do more. She says she wishes there were more volunteers to match the growing number of people wanting to learn and that even a small amount of your time could make a huge difference for those who are struggling. It was inspiring to hear about her gratitude for those who are willing to help and work with those coming in from different countries. Fawzia insisted that there are a lot of people who are kindhearted in the Fargo area and they are paving the way for a welcoming community. As she stated, “Giving back is always important, but I most enjoy the connection I have with the people.”

This compassion and need to give back likely developed as Fawzia made her own difficult journey to the United States as her family fled from a war torn country.  Her story begins in 1991 where she was born in Sudan. Unlike most small children who begin their childhood playing games and discovering new things, Fawzia’s was wrecked with turmoil.  At a very young age her country became violently affected by civil war. During this chaotic time, Fawzia’s father was taken by the war in the Sudan never to be seen again, “My father died in the war..Well actually we just never saw him again but when that happens in the civil war it’s just assumed that they died,” Fawzia says with the straightforward assertiveness.  It is this attitude that served her well as she made the transition from Africa to America. The start of this transition began when her family moved from the Sudan to Uganda. Fawzia was too young to remember the Sudan but Uganda became her home. She recalls the warmth of the sun and family gatherings, the delicious food and wonderful friends.  Unfortunately, her brief oasis was short-lived her family again had to move, this time to Kenya.  Fawzia’s older sister had made it to the United States for her education and it was during this same time that the rest of her family had relocated to Kenya.  It was becoming evident that the family needed to leave the country and so it was up to Fawzia’s sister to make that happen. This process is much easier said than done and takes many resources to accomplish.  First, Fawzia’s sister was faced with the task of finding her family in a war torn country before she could begin tackling the countless other challenges she faced on the long road to getting her family to safety.  Not only is transferring refugees a heavy financial burden but those responsible must also navigate through mounds of paperwork full of complicated governmental jargon. This would prove to be a difficult challenge for a native English speaker, let alone someone who does not share it as their first language.

Once the finances and paperwork were complete, Fawzia and her family still had to undergo rigorous interviews, health exams and background checks before being allowed into their new country. Finally after 2 years of challenges and setbacks young Fawzia, her siblings and mother were on their way to Fargo, North Dakota. Imagine coming to a new place far from anything you knew that was familiar.  Now imagine that place was Fargo, ND in January. She looks back to that new and scary time in her small 8 year old life when the plane first touched down, “when we first got to Hector airport they gave us heavy coats I didn’t know why but they told us that we would need them.  When I first saw the snow I held onto my mother and asked “is that sugar?”  The bleakness of the traditional North Dakota white out winter scared Fawzia most, but it wasn’t long before she was making new positive memories in her new home. Due to the unstable atmosphere of her home country, Fawzia had not yet started school when she came to America.  Nonetheless she was permitted to enter the 1st grade halfway through the term and from there continued with her class as normal, graduating high school easily despite starting her education late.  From there Fawzia continued her education, receiving her bachelor’s degree and soon after entering graduate school to earn her master’s degree in composition.

The Ugandan Landscape
The Ugandan Landscape

Today, Fawzia’s life is filled with a different kind of stress. The man that would later become Fawzia’s husband remained in Africa, going through the same arduous process that she did so many years before. Being on the other side of things was no less stressful for Fawzia. Working long hours to earn enough money to bring him over to America to be with her was not an easy task while at the same time she pursued a B.S. in English and Human Development and Family Science with a minor in Women and Gender Studies. All the longs hours paid off, with her husband eventually immigrating to the United States. They married in 2011 back in Africa. In May of 2014 she graduated from North Dakota State University. Shortly after graduating she gave birth to a baby boy.

Her main concern is no longer safety, but rather time. Like most Americans, especially college students, Fawzia juggles a lot of roles. She is a graduate student and teacher, mother and wife, and a practicing Muslim, all while also trying to find time to give back to the Fargo refugee community. When asked about what she does for fun, Fawzia was unable to give an answer. Fun is not a word Fawzia uses to describe her own life. Her grueling course load as a graduate student–she is taking ten credits despite conventional wisdom telling her not to–leaves little time for fun. Add in grading papers, exams, and preparing lesson plans, and you have what many people would consider a busy life. However, life does not stop at just academia for Fawzia. She is also a loving mother to a little boy and devout to both her husband and her faith. With everything Fawzia is involved with jockeying for her time and effort, she says that if she can get “One or two hours of sleep” then that will be enough. This all makes it ever so special when she is able to sit down and eat breakfast with her son on the weekend. This simple moment, a moment most Americans would overlook, is something she cherishes.

Written by North Dakota State University English students Jensina Davis, Jessica Heuer, and Zachary Liu

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