Community

The city of Minneapolis has hired longtime immigration attorney Michelle Rivero as the director of the newly created Office of Immigrant and Refugee Affairs (OIRA). Rivero, who operated her own law firm for 16 years, took the helm of the one-person office — which is dedicated to serving immigrant and refugee residents in Minneapolis — last week. Minneapolis’ decision to establish OIRA comes after dozens of other cities — including Seattle, Denver, Los Angeles and New York City — created specific offices and full-time advocates to provide social and legal services to immigrant and refugee communities. Rivero’s responsibilities as the director of the office will include working with elected officials and city departments to develop support programs tailored for foreign-born residents, promoting awareness about immigration policies and connecting immigrants and refugees to existing services. Since city staffers in Minneapolis announced the creation of OIRA earlier this year, people who work with immigrant communities in the Twin Cities have been closely watching who the city would pick to lead the office. Rivero recently spoke with MinnPost about her past work, her family’s immigration history, and her priorities for the office. MinnPost: Before becoming a director of the new office, you operated…

On a recent evening, Rica Highers arrived a little early to set up the community room inside the Ramsey County Library in Maplewood, where a group of interpreters were scheduled to meet the state’s top court administrator, Jeff Shorba, to discuss wages for independent spoken language interpreters working in district courts throughout Minnesota. While Highers, an organizer with the Minnesota Newspaper and Communications Guild, arranged the chairs, she kept an eye on the door, asking the incoming attendees — most of whom were Spanish, Hmong and Somali speakers — to either take buttons and stickers that read “INTERPRETERS UNITED FOR RESPECT” and “INTERPRETERS DESERVE RESPECT.” The meeting was the latest attempt to convince officials from the Minnesota Judicial Branch, which oversees courts in Minnesota, to adjust the current payment policy, which has barely budged in two decades. While members of the group awaited the arrival of Shorba, they turned to each other in twos and threes for small talk about the weather, work and the library — as if they were at a cocktail party. Once Shorba made his entrance, though, the mood changed. There were no greetings or smiles. Shorba sat on one side of the room, the interpreters…

A lot has been said about the policies and politics that affect refugee arrivals in the U.S. But according to Damir Utržan, a post-doctoral fellow at the University of Minnesota, there hasn’t been enough information about refugee resettlement agencies — the organizations responsible for resettling and supporting immigrants and refugees in America. So to understand the effectiveness of those groups — as well as their interactions with supporters and opponents of refugee admissions — Utržan and two other researchers at the university recently released a report chronicling the history and services of the U.S. Refugee Resettlement Program (USRP). The report, which surveyed more than 70 leaders of organizations nationwide, focuses on the resettlement of Syrian refugees and how today’s polarized political climate has created widespread opposition against immigrants and refugees. USRP is a federal program that has for decades collaborated with many domestic and international agencies to provide refugees with resettlement services and assistance to integrate them into U.S. society. Those services include housing and temporary cash assistance for paying rent and buying food. The organizations also connect refugees to health care, job training and education services in an effort to help them become self-sufficient. Though the U.S. has long admitted the largest…

Soomali-du waxay ku maah-maadaa “MAR-MARSIINYO MAARO MA LE”   Qofku hadduu mar kasta wax ku mar-marsoodo looma taag helayo.  Hase yeeshe, mar baa jirta qofku aanu heli Karin meel uu ka baxo ama wax uu ku mar-marsoodo. Habar Soomliyeed oo beri hore  baadiyaha ku nooleeyd ayaa marka gurigeeda loo soo martiyo waxay oran jirtey,”neef baanu idiin qali lahayn biyo la’aan ayaa na haysta.” Odeygii qabay ayaa wax badan kala hadlay in ay joojiso mar-marsiiyadan tirada ka badan. Waxa la waayey hal qof oo  u soo hoyday habarta reerkeeda  oo ay soortey(marti gelisey). Odeygii qabay ayaa aad iyo aad ula yaabay. Wax uu ku hadlo ayuu garan waayey. Qof kasta oo soo martiya iyadaa hadalka kaga horeyneysa odeyga. Markiiba way u dayrineysaa.  In badan odeygu wuu la hadlay. Habrtu way iska-dhega tirtay si kasta oo uu odeygu wax ugu sheego-ba. Waxa la gaarey heer ay wada hadli waayaan.  Odaygu wuxuu arinkan u arkay mid ceeb ku ah reerkan uu madaxa ka yahay.   Mar ayey maskaxdiisa ku soo dhacday in uu iska furo.  Hadana caruurtan bdan ee ay u hayso ayuu is yiri hoyadood ha ka eryin.  Caruurta waaa weyn arinkan habarta wuu u sheegey. Waxay ku yiraahden “abo iska daa hooyo…

(St. Paul, MN; June 8, 2018) World Without Genocide announces a new youth advocacy and action program, the Benjamin B. Ferencz Young Fellows in Human Rights and Law. Fellowships will be awarded to five Summer Institute students who have participated in the 2018 Institute, Climate Change and Genocide: Sexual Violence and Disaster. Students will work on core areas of human rights including advocacy, communications, education, and outreach to support initiatives at city and state levels in the 2018-2019 academic year. High school and college students are encouraged to apply. More information is available at www.worldwithoutgenocide.org/about-us/young-fellows or 651-695-7621. World Without Genocide promotes education and action to protect innocent people, prevent genocide, prosecute perpetrators, and remember those affected by genocide.  

Two months ago, Fardousa Jama did something no other Muslim woman in south-central Minnesota has done: she filed to run for a city council seat in Mankato. Then on the Fourth of July, Jama took to the streets with her 8-year-old niece, Mai, for a door-knocking campaign, an experience she hoped would help her better connect with area constituents and learn more about issues that are important to them. But a few minutes into the effort, one thing became apparent to Jama: going door-to-door in Mankato might be a lot more difficult for a Somali-American, hijab-wearing female candidate like her than she had imagined. More than once, Jama said, people she solicited for votes responded to her with racially charged comments — “go back to where you came from” and “we don’t support a terrorist” — before slamming the door in her face. Worse yet, she added, an elderly white man even spat on her before telling her to get off his property. After the spitting incident, Jama decided she didn’t want her niece to see the mistreatment she endured. So Jama quickly returned home to rethink her campaign strategy. Jama’s experience isn’t uncommon among Muslim American candidates seeking political…

On a recent afternoon, as Naima Dhore wandered around her organic farm in Marine on St. Croix, she recalled how far she came to find her niche three years ago as one of a handful of Somali farmers in Minnesota. Long before the breakthrough, Dhore had yearned for a space where she could grow produce with her husband and their two young sons, a space she could use to encourage a healthy lifestyle among her friends and members of the East African community. Back then, Dhore was thinking of participating in one of the community garden initiatives that provide immigrants and other underrepresented groups with opportunities to grow food in the Twin Cities with the help of nonprofit organizations. So to familiarize herself with the urban farming system, Dhore turned to YouTube to see how people — especially immigrants from Somalia — grow their gardens and what they have to say about the experience. On YouTube, Dhore came across more than she had expected. She didn’t just find someone to explain their experience at a nonprofit-funded community garden in Minneapolis or St. Paul — she found the inspiring story of Mohamed Gaabane, a Somali and proud owner of a 40-acre farm…

On a recent Friday evening, over a dozen young immigrant players from Ethiopia, Mexico and Somalia showed up in various European soccer jerseys at the East Phillips Park in Minneapolis. All of them wanted to play, but the soccer field could only hold 12 people at once. So they divided themselves into three teams — with two groups playing against each other, and the third one waiting outside to replace whichever team lost first. They had no coach to supervise them and no referee to enforce the rules of the game. Instead, the players assigned their own positions and called their own fouls. The system seemed to work well until a goalie, who asked to play forward, was left with two options: leave the field or remain a goalkeeper. (He chose the latter.) Though each player wore a random jersey, which made it difficult to differentiate between the teams, it was easy to spot Yimer Woldeyes, an Ethiopian-born teenager who dominated the midfield with his speed, near-perfect ball control and masterful passes. Even with such skills, though, Woldeyes — like many of his immigrant and refugee friends — has never really imagined playing in professional leagues in Minnesota. That isn’t…

MAAH-MAAHYO WAXA LA YIRI SOOMAALIDU BEEN WEY SHEEGTAA LAAKIIN BEEN MA MAAHMAAHDO: HALKAN HOOSE KA AGKHRISO  QAAR KA MID AH MAAHMAAHYADA SOOMAALIDA: Ummad aan dhigaal laahayni, waa dhaayo aan arag lahayn Haddii deg-degsiimo door la bido, kaadsiimana kiish lacag ah ayeey dhashaa Nin weligaaba ma gaadhid. Waa ninka kaa naaag fiican. Hadal waa mergi oo kale Tol waa tolane Rag calooshii la ciyaar iyo cill kama kore ayaw u daran, dumarna cirkeed bogato iyo casar seexato ayaw daran Male rag waa mudacyo afkood Nin yar inta uu geed ka boodo ayuu talona ka boodaa Gaalka dil, gartiisana sii Waano dhalan baa ka adag Barasho horteed ha i nicin Oodo dhacameed siday u kala sareeyaan baa loo kala guraa Rag waxa u liita ma toshe, ma tashade iyo ma tashiishe Xaqqu feeraha ayuu ka dilaacaa Gafuur cawo ninkiisa ayuu dhibaa War la qabaa xiiso male Geel rag iyo rabbi baa dhaqa Nin qoyani biyo iskama dhawro Ragow barasho, geeloow rarasho Af jooga looma adeego

News headlines these days are filled with dark stories about immigration: children separated from their migrant parents, refugees barred from entering the U.S. and undocumented residents returned to countries they barely know. But on the tennis court of Matthews Park in Minneapolis, there’s a different kind of story unfolding: half a dozen immigrants from Bosnia, India, Russia and Somalia are catching up on a missed-out childhood experience: riding a bike. Even in their 30s, 40s and 50s, the student cyclists participate in a month-long program, Learn to Ride, which teaches adults how to bike. It’s a popular program of the Twin Cities-based nonprofit Cycles for Change, which is aimed at increasing diversity among bicyclists in the Twin Cities. On a recent late morning, Nima Abdirahman, a Somali-born participating in the Learn to Ride program, walked into the training field with a helmet, adjusted the seat of a waiting bike and hopped on it as she examined how students around her biked. It was the last day of the class, but Abdirahman and some of the student cyclists weren’t exactly where they needed to be to continue biking on their own after completing the program — at least during the first 15 minutes of the…