Integrating into America:

Muslim Refugee Relations in Chattanooga

Photo by urbannews.com

Photo by urbannews.com

 

By Natalia Perez, freelance writer

[Estimated reading time: 5 minutes]

Coming to America wasn’t his choice, but it was his only option. After moving around to several refugee camps seeking safety from war, Abdul Wahab Al Abd gained refugee status and came to the United States (U.S.) with his family in 2012.

During the Persian Gulf War, Wahab and his family sought refuge in Sudan and Jordan, where they stayed in refugee camps and had to survive on their host’s limited, and often dwindling, resources. He and his wife weren’t able to work and his children could not attend school. They were just there to survive.

After the war was over, he and his family returned home at peace until 2003, when the United States-led coalition overthrew the government of Saddam Hussein, starting another war that continued throughout the next 12 years. This incited a fleeing of 2 million people from the country, and more than 4 million were internally displaced. At the height of Iraqi refugee resettlement in 2014, nearly 1,700 were granted entrance to the U.S. every month.

Since Wahab worked for the American troops as a civil engineer--serving in schools and hospitals--his people saw him as an enemy and a traitor. Conditions worsened and he feared for the safety of his family, so he began the process of acquiring a visa under refugee status to live in the U.S. The process took four years.

Currently, according to the United Nations (U.N.), there are 65 million refugees in the world fleeing war, famine, persecution, and natural disaster. Some travel thousands of miles for safety and security. Wahab is part of the 1 percent of refugees granted legal entrance into the U.S. after an intense registration and vetting process. According to an article by the Global Citizen, the U.S. is resettling the fewest number of refugees in 40 years.    

Although the U.S. had historically led the way on global refugee resettlement, President Donald Trump cut the refugee resettlement quota by more than half in January 2017, banning entry to refugees from several countries--though the resettlement of persecuted religious minorities continued during this time on a case-by-case basis. Since then, the maximum number of refugees allowed into the U.S has declined from 110,000 to 50,000, making 2018 to be the worst year for resettlement to the US in decades.

Like Wahab, other refugees only made it to neighboring countries, like Kenya, Jordan, Sudan and Turkey among others, where they’re placed to live in cities and camps with very limited resources. While Trump rescinded his ban on Iraqi refugees, hundreds to thousands of them are still stranded in places like Syria, Lebanon, Turkey, and Jordan ― which are also hosting Syrian refugees under escalated tensions and scarce resources.

According to the Pew Research Center, the refugee admissions process can currently take up to 18 to 24 months, and includes a review of applications by the State Department and other federal agencies, in-person interviews, health screenings and, for many, cultural orientations.

 


Chattanooga Connects

According to a state by state cumulative arrivals placement by the Refugee Processing Center (RPC), the number of Afghan refugees’ settlements in Tennessee has lowered from 105 resettlements in 2016, to 76 in 2017, to 32 in 2018. The number of Iraqi refugees has lowered from 350 resettlements in 2016, to 210 in 2017, to just 35 in 2018. Despite the decline in resettlements, a couple of organizations and many individuals in Chattanooga remain intentional in providing assistance and aid to refugee arrivals.

When Wahab and his family were resettled into Chattanooga, they were aided by Bridge Refugees Services, a non-profit agency operating in Knoxville and Chattanooga that’s committed to providing care and protection to refugees as they restart their lives in the U.S. Bridge Refugees Services helped Wahab’s children enroll in school and settled the family into an apartment with 3 months paid in advance. They also assisted with apartment furnishings and hospital immunizations, and were given 45 days to find jobs.

Wahab worked at Amazon for 4.5 years. He wasn’t able to see his family often and couldn’t bear the hardship of the job, and the stress of it eventually resulted in a heart attack. This forced him to reevaluate his situation and consider other jobs, although options are limited under refugee status.

“I have to know the culture. I have to adapt,” Wahab said about integrating into America. “I always felt like Americans had an easier life, but I discovered there is no easy money. You have to work hard for it.”

In May of 2016, he and his family came up with an idea for a family food business. It was a great way to work together, still be able to see each other, give back to their community, and fill a need for an authentic Arabic food business, which they named Jinan’s Kitchen. He and his wife had extensive experience with food and their son was a chef. Although they needed 30,000 dollars to realize this newfound business venture, they received a great amount of support from their community.


Wahab, his wife and son at their family business, “Jinan’s Kitchen.”Photo courtesy of Abdul Wahab.

Wahab, his wife and son at their family business, “Jinan’s Kitchen.”

Photo courtesy of Abdul Wahab.

A large amount of their community was also found in Adventist Muslim Friendship Association (AMFA), which was founded by Gaby Phillips and Darleen Handal, AMFA Director and Coordinator. Working under a similar mission as Bridge Refugee Services, AMFA takes it a few steps further by nurturing the spiritual and social needs of refugees. They host monthly potlucks, social gatherings, and provide assistance to refugee children as they try to navigate academia with a limited knowledge of English.

*Several refugee children have not gotten the chance to attend school consistently, especially under the stresses their families have gone through in trying to find refuge from the dangerous situations in their countries and constantly moving around. As a result, many of them are prone to fall behind in their studies because they’re placed in a grade level that matches their age group but not their level of knowledge.

AMFA has also built a network of professionals, advocates, prayer warriors, church teams and student volunteers to empower and cultivate their mission. Volunteers are sent to meet refugees at the airport upon arrival, offer ESL tutoring to refugee students and families, provide orientation for things like health care and attaining a license among several things, and assist them in their transportation needs.

Several students from Southern Adventist University have served as volunteers, including Melissa Giebel, Southern alumna, who felt inspired to serve after being a missionary kid for 17 years in Nigeria, a country where almost half of the population is Muslim. She felt she could be someone that both the American Christian side and the Muslim Refugee side could identify with, and help both sides understand each other. She’s been working with the organization since 2012 and is now their Assistant Coordinator.

Southern alum Krantzy Boursiquot also held a benefit concert for the refugee community on November 10. He desired to display a compilation of artistry from several local artists, but wanted to do it for a meaningful cause. He ended up collaborating with Jinan’s Kitchen, and all proceeds from the event went to aid Muslim refugees.

Jordan Putt, senior business major, sings at Muslim refugee benefit concert.Photo by Natalia Perez

Jordan Putt, senior business major, sings at Muslim refugee benefit concert.

Photo by Natalia Perez


Media Distortions

*When a Muslim refugee woman first arrived from Alabama, she was told not to leave her house. She was told it was dangerous for her to do so since she wears a hijab. This confused her. She left her country because she was unsafe, yet she arrives to the U.S. and is still unsafe but for different reasons. At the time, she and her husband were pregnant, soon expecting a little boy. Eventually, AMFA was able to connect with her and organized a baby shower to welcome her into the community. She was overcome with emotion, finally feeling like she found a place to call home in this new, strange western world.  

The Muslim refugee woman’s experience is similar to many other refugees upon arriving to America. Judged instantly by preconceived notions adopted from the media and accompanied by Trump’s travel-ban, many Americans have felt a license to discriminate.

“Many of the people we work with have had to leave their countries because of imminent danger, not because they want to,” said Handal. “They get refugee status and come to the U.S. and still get treated terribly. That’s been really heart wrenching.”

Members of the Muslim community sense the apprehension from Americans, and wish they had chances to interact and prove that they have more similarities with Americans than differences. According to Phillips, media professionals and consumers must take the time to understand Islam from a socio-political, spiritual and emotional context. She urges that all people on both sides must wear their “cross-cultural lenses” and understand the world from the perspective of the other.

“I wish Americans wouldn’t believe everything the media says at face value,” said Wahab. “There’s always more good than what is shown. We are just like you: we work hard, we want to contribute here, and we want this to be our home now.”

 

*stories were translated from Muslims who are not yet able to speak English and did not wish to be identified

 

 

There’s always more good than what is shown. We are just like you: we work hard, we want to contribute here, and we want this to be our home now.
 
 
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Syrian refugee Baraa Haj Khalaf receives a kiss from her mother, Fattoum Haj Khalaf, in February 2017 shortly after the family had arrived at Chicago’s O’Hare International Airport.Photo by Joshua Lott/AFP/Getty Images

Syrian refugee Baraa Haj Khalaf receives a kiss from her mother, Fattoum Haj Khalaf, in February 2017 shortly after the family had arrived at Chicago’s O’Hare International Airport.

Photo by Joshua Lott/AFP/Getty Images

Graphics by Natalia Perez