refugees are welcome
Refugees are "people who desperately want a chance to become new Americans," writes Ava Leone. "They have done more than many of us to fight the terrorists, publicize their atrocities, and shield the next generation from their hideous ideology." (Contributed photo)
By Ava Leone, a Birmingham native and U.S. State Department employee who recently finished three years working for the Syria Transition Assistance Response Team in Turkey. The views expressed are her own and not necessarily those of the U.S. government.
On Sunday, Governor Bentley declared that Alabama would not accept any Syrian refugees. Let's put aside the governor's uncertain legal authority in this matter and focus instead on the public support he received for this shameful act. Many Alabamians applauded the attempt to close Alabama's borders, with some calling Syrians "a Trojan horse" of terrorism. Governor Bentley implied that evil surely lurks among these vulnerable refugees, and shutting them out will make Alabama safer.
This isn't the Alabama I know.
The backlash against Syrian refugees is confounding. Since 9/11, the United States has welcomed 785,000 refugees, all vetted and screened. Of this group, twelve people later posed a security concern and were arrested or deported, demonstrating that we have capable systems in place. Moreover, many of the Syrian refugees selected for resettlement in the U.S. are widows, disabled, or elderly, and more than half are children. Conflating the need to combat ISIL with an outright rejection of refugees is both wrong and dangerous. The anti-refugee rhetoric and exclusionary sentiments don't make us safer; they exacerbate race and integration issues and lend credibility to the violent extremists' propaganda.
On a more personal level, the xenophobic sentiments I've seen these past few days are devastating because they come from people who I know are typically generous and compassionate. They're the kind of people who foster orphans, feed the homeless, and love their neighbors because they're called to but also because it's just the right thing to do. The Alabamians I know and love welcome strangers and show kindness to the persecuted because the Bible, and southern hospitality, demands nothing less.
Sadly, that compassion has been lost in the vitriol directed toward Syrian refugees this week. Several thousand Syrian refugees have been referred for resettlement in the U.S., and so far fewer than 2,000 have completed the stringent process of vetting. The process can take up to two years and involves multiple background checks, medical exams, mounds of paperwork, and countless interviews where applicants recount the (usually traumatic) circumstances that led to their decision to flee home and country. Through my job at the State Department, I've gotten to know some of these refugees, and I can't help but think the good people of Alabama would react differently if they knew whom they were shutting out.
I'm willing to bet that most people who are afraid of refugees have never actually met one.
Because if you did, I have a feeling you would be amazed by the enduring optimism of 20-year old Marwan, whose childhood ended the day a missile tore through his mother's body, traumatizing his father and instantly making him the family's breadwinner. You'd be compelled to help Hiba, a mother of three whose husband died trying to prevent extremists from taking over his town's school. She wants to honor his memory by making sure his children go to college. You'd chuckle at Sarah, whose one room apartment in southeast Turkey is overflowing with kittens because she can't turn down a stray. You would be encouraged by the Haddad family's story of fleeing Aleppo with the aid of Muslim friends who feared this Christian family wouldn't survive an encounter with ISIL. A few of you might also understand the struggles of Samer, a gay math teacher who fled his hometown because ISIL pushes men like him to their deaths from the rooftops of tall buildings. You would wonder how young Karam managed to survive two years in Bashar al-Assad's prisons and still write love poems.
These are the people who desperately want a chance to become new Americans.
They have done more than many of us to fight the terrorists, publicize their atrocities, and shield the next generation from their hideous ideology. All the while, they've managed to produce beautiful art, to educate their children, to staff makeshift hospitals, and to offer their condolences and sympathy when cities like Paris or Boston are hit with the kind of tragedy they face daily. Most of them work without pay or acknowledgement, often in the face of great personal danger. In doing so, they display quintessential American qualities: initiative, optimism, perseverance, and - above all - courage.
Refugees are not a threat to Alabama or any other American state. On the contrary, the United States could benefit by reclaiming its historical position as a safe haven for the persecuted.
We need their talents, their resilience, their passion for education, and their ability to improvise and persevere in the face of unimaginable hardship. They've chosen America because they were told that here, we don't discriminate against people because of their faith. They've chosen America because they know that most of us are the descendants of immigrants and refugees ourselves, and they believe they will be met with the same compassion our ancestors found when they arrived from Italy, Ireland, China, Vietnam, and Cuba. They choose us because they were told that in America we believe everyone is equal, that this is a place where you can practice your faith and speak your mind without fear of persecution. They choose us because they believe America is a great place, where you can begin again.
For their sake and ours, I hope they're right.