Home
Archive
Newsletters
Video
Blogs
Discuss
About
Search
Donate
Advertise

Double Jeopardy: The Harsh Reality for Iraqi Immigrants Trying to Live in America

By Nina Berman, AlterNet. Posted April 25, 2009.


Recently arrived refugees wonder how they're supposed to become self-sufficient in the worst economy since the Great Depression.
Advertisement
Upcoming AlterNet stories on Digg

Meanwhile, his roommates have left, unable to find work in Dallas. They've packed up and moved off to Amarillo to work at a meat processor. Another family is leaving this week for the same destination, and several families have left for cheaper rents in Arlington and Fort Worth.

Mohammed arrived in Texas in January with folders full of glowing recommendations from U.S. companies and an Army officer attesting to his dedication and work ethic in Iraq. He expected golden treatment, considering his excellent language skills and the sacrifices he made working for the U.S.

"I did a great job. I worked five years in Iraq. I put my life in danger. My brother got kidnapped because of it. I couldn't see my family," he said. He imagined coming to America, quickly landing a job at a big telecom company, like the one he worked for in Iraq, and then traveling the world, climbing towers in Saudi Arabia, Afghanistan or wherever they needed him.

Instead, he's in the same predicament as every other refugee, facing a low-wage job at best, with only a temporary work permit. If he had a green card, he's sure his old telecom company would hire him, but to get the card automatically, he needed to have come in on the Special Immigrant Visa program specifically for U.S. military hires, and have a recommendation from a general.

"I have a colonel," he said. He hadn't even known about the SIV program when he applied for a refugee visa.

So begins another long wait in the endless circle of waiting for Mohammed and other Iraq refugees who realize that a work permit can only go so far and maybe the answer to their years of paperless, homeless dislocation lies in the American green card. The challenge is whether they can survive the reality of the unemployed and underemployed until that card arrives, at which point, many said they're out of here.

Bilal was trained as a pharmacist but works at Wal-Mart. He considers himself fortunate to have a job, but as soon as he receives his green card, he's moving to Jordan. It's bitterly ironic for Bilal that as an Iraqi he needs to come to the United States before he can be legally welcomed in Jordan, Syria and most nations in the world: It's nearly impossible to get a visa holding an Iraqi passport.

Arshad doesn't think he can hold out for a year. At a recent conference on Iraqi refugees in Washington, Arshad cornered the Syrian ambassador who was in attendance.

"I told him "Help me. Help me. I'm an Iraq artist, I'm well known, and I need to get out of here. I need a Syrian visa." He makes a motion of someone stamping a passport. " I want this stamp," he says. The ambassador gave Arshad his business card and said to write to him.

Eman, his wife, doesn't want to give up. She's dreaming of driving lessons and Mel Gibson, her favorite American actor. She says she's less depressed when she works, but the hours at her minimum-wage factory job are intermittent.

"I don't want to be a loser. I want my American experience to mean something." Of her friends, she is the first woman to be working here.

Their children seem oblivious to the problems. They both like school, have many friends among the refugee community, play in each others’ apartments and ride bicycles in the parking lot of the housing complex. Homework is a challenge but their English is improving.

Mustafa, 6, is practicing for a musical at school. And just the other day, Ranya 9, who likes to wear Hannah Montana T-shirts, came home from school eager to impress her father with a new word.

"Perro," she said, struggling with the pronunciation. "What is that?" asked Arshad. Dog in Spanish. He laughed. It was preferable to the "I love Jesus" cards she had brought home.

Names with * were changed to protect the refugees.


Digg!    Share on facebook   submit to reddit    Bookmark on Delicious   Stumble This  

See more stories tagged with: iraq, texas, immigration, economy, refugees

Nina Berman is a photographer and the author of Purple Hearts: Back From Iraq.

Liked this story? Get top stories in your inbox each week from World! Sign up now »


Advertisement
Advertisement

 

You've chosen to turn comments off for the entire site. Would you like to turn them back on?
  • AlterNetYour turn

Support AlterNet
Do you value the information you're getting from AlterNet? Please show your support with a tax-deductible donation.


Feedback
Tell us how we're doing.

Advertisement
Advertisement