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citizenship

Mohammad Amini is a bright, determined, 21-year-old living in Jakarta, Indonesia, with his family — or rather, what's left of it.

The Aminis belong to an ethnic group called the Hazaras, who are violently persecuted in Afghanistan. When the Taliban killed Mohammad's older brother for teaching English and threatened the rest of the family in 2014, they fled the country. Soon after, Mohammad’s grief-stricken father died of a heart attack.

Jakarta was supposed to be a temporary stop for the Aminis, who hoped to get to Australia, but they've been awaiting resettlement for four years. Refugees aren’t legally allowed to work or go to school in Indonesia, so Mohammad and his siblings, who range in age from 15 to 23, do what they can to develop their skills and contribute to society while they wait. They spend several days a week studying and volunteering at Roshan Learning Center, a community-based educational initiative serving refugees, and Mohammad studies at Kiron, an online university for refugees.


"I consider myself as a resilient person," Amini says. "I'd rather spend my time In Indonesia learning more skills, practice my languages skills, and build my character, than just waste my time to wait for my resettlement."

The Aminis make the most of their circumstances in Jakarta, but in reality, they are stuck.

Some of the thousands of asylum-seeking families in Indonesia sleep on the streets and in parks in Jakarta, with mosquito nets as shelters. Photo via Ulet Ifansasti/Getty Images.

If they go back to Afghanistan, they’ll likely be killed. If they stay in Indonesia, they can’t work, get an accredited education, or become citizens. Finances are an ongoing struggle, charity is a necessity, and their options for a safe and productive life are limited.

"We are alive with the hope of that one day we will be accepted to a third country," Amini says. "And if there is no resettlement in a third country, our whole life will be destroyed. There is no other option for us." ++

Millions of refugees like the Aminis live in this state of limbo, where chances of resettlement grow more and more unlikely.

In Indonesia, the United Nations recently told refugees that getting transferred to another country could take 15 years or more if they’re lucky enough to be resettled at all. For the more than 65 million people who are currently displaced, and the 22 million of whom are refugees fleeing conflict or persecution, that timeline could only grow longer, according to the United Nations Refugee Agency.

While those numbers have increased, the number of refugees the U.S. accepts has been drastically reduced. Obama set the refugee ceiling at 110,000 for 2017, but Trump cut that limit to 45,000 in 2018 — the lowest in decades. And according to the International Rescue Commission, the U.S. is on track to only take in around 22,000 this year — less than half of the limit. For perspective, that's approximately one refugee for every 15,000 Americans.

The numbers don't lie: the U.S. can be doing more to help refugees. And they can look to their Northern neighbors for a resourceful way to make it happen.

[rebelmouse-image 19347057 dam="1" original_size="448x307" caption="Image via International Rescue Committee." expand=1]Image via International Rescue Committee.

Canada empowers its people to help refugees through an inspiring private refugee sponsorship program.

In addition to government sponsorship like exists in the U.S., refugees can come to Canada through private sponsorship — a process through which a group of Canadian citizens or permanent residents provide funds and mentorship to a refugee family for one year.

The program allows sponsors to choose refugees to sponsor, cover resettlement expenses through private donation, and personally help them assimilate into Canadian society — all at little cost to the government.

About 280,000 refugees have been settled through Canada's private sponsorship program since it began in 1978.

Amir and Nour Fattal fled Aleppo, Syria, when their apartment was bombed in 2012. The Fattals never imagined they would have to leave their homeland — and never wanted to. But war changes everything.

Like the Aminis, they spent years in limbo in a stopover country. But in 2016, they and their young daughter were brought from Turkey to Toronto, Canada, through private sponsorship. Terry Dellaportas, one of the Fattals' Canadian sponsors, invited me to view the Facebook group their sponsorship group used to organize fundraising and logistics. As I scrolled through a year's worth of posts on everything from paperwork, to apartments, to airport pickup, I was struck by the raw beauty of collective human kindness.  

Millions of people have been displaced by the Syrian civil war. Aleppo, once a thriving metropolis, has been reduced to rubble in many areas. Photo via Ameer Alhalbi/Getty Images.

And private sponsorship isn't just about charity.

Research shows refugees have a neutral-to-beneficial impact on the economy, largely because immigrants are twice as likely as the average citizen to start businesses. They also enrich society culturally, especially when their assimilation includes celebrating the skills and knowledge they bring with them.

The Fattals, for example, with the encouragement of their sponsors, started the Beroea Kitchen, which serves Syrian cuisine from Aleppo. "These are the meals our mothers made us when we were children and taught us how to make ourselves," Amir says on the business's website.

And they do more than just sell food. Through a community "Supper Club," Beroea brings people together to share a meal, share stories and ideas, and make friends.

Other countries have started following Canada's lead. The United States should consider it too.

Britain, Argentina, Ireland, New Zealand, and the United Arab Emirates all have private sponsorship programs in the works.

"Safety and security" is often lauded as the main reason for limiting the number of refugees America accepts. However, refugees are the most vetted group of people to enter the country and research shows that they pose no greater threat to our safety and security than the average American. Cost and jobs are also used as excuses. However, our economy is in great shape according to the president, unemployment is at historic lows, and refugees aren't a drain the economy or jobs anyway.

The main issues, then, are government spending and concerns over assimilation. Private sponsorship addresses both of those problems.

Photo via Charles McQuillan/Getty Images.

The Aminis are so similar to the Fattals  — service-oriented, ambitious, and eager to contribute. But their ability to put those qualities to full use is simply a matter of circumstance.

Scott Smiley, a volunteer teacher at Roshan in Jakarta, says Mohammad and his family are exactly the kinds of citizens that nations want and need. "These people are so incredible," he says. "Countries should be bidding on them."

Developed countries should help change their circumstance.

But in the meantime, the Aminis will continue to do the only things they can in limbo — study and prepare for an uncertain future, try not to lose hope, and wait.

++ Mohammad Amini's name has been changed for the family's security.

Sir Patrick Stewart is a man of many roles, but it's his latest that might be the most daring of all: American citizen.

While on "The View" to discuss what it was like playing Charles Xavier one final time in "Logan," Stewart announced that, after 30 years as a permanent resident of the U.S., he's decided to pursue citizenship.

GIFs from The View/YouTube.


Citing a desire to "fight" back against the Trump administration and its policies, the 76-year-old is taking a leap that will likely have him ready to cast votes in the 2018 and 2020 elections.

If he doesn't like Trump, why would he want to become a citizen? Aren't people packing up and moving to Canada? So, about that...

It may come as a shock, but though many people make sweeping pronouncements about leaving the country if a certain politician gets elected or a specific policy becomes law, few actually do it. In 2010, conservative commentator Rush Limbaugh pledged to move to Costa Rica if the Affordable Care Act became law (a bit of irony: Limbaugh slammed the ACA as being "socialized medicine," while Costa Rica offers actual socialized medicine). During the 2016 election, a number of celebrities suggested they'd move to Canada in the event of a Trump victory.

As it stands, Limbaugh still lives in the U.S, and there hasn't been some mass exodus from Hollywood in the wake of Trump's win. And for good reason.

For one, it's actually really hard for Americans to become Canadian citizens. To most people, it's simply not worth the time, money, and hassle to pack up and move to a new country just because you don't like a politician.

Photo by William Thomas Cain/Getty Images.

Beyond that, escaping American policies isn't as simple as crossing a border — something Stewart has noted on social media before.

"What the White House does ripples round the world," he tweeted in 2015. He's right. What the U.S. does affects the rest of the globe, just as an action taken by another global superpower like China, the United Kingdom, or Russia, affects the U.S.

How any one country reacts to some issues, such as climate change, will affect us all. In short, most issues caused by politicians aren't simply things we can run from. That's why Stewart's approach makes so much sense.

Photo by Nicholas Hunt/Getty Images.

It is worth noting the privilege Stewart has to be able to simply decide he wants to become a U.S. citizen. What may be easy for him isn't so easy for people with fewer resources.

And that's why we need real, comprehensive immigration reform. Just this week, a 22-year-old woman named Daniela Vargas was arrested and will be deported without a hearing. Though undocumented, Vargas was here as a Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals (DACA) recipient. She was waiting on her DACA renewal to come through when she was detained.

The current immigration system makes it easy for well-off celebrities like Stewart to become citizens (which could take as little as a few months in his particular case), but doesn't offer a pathway to citizenship for people like Vargas. That needs to change. Still, it's good to see that Stewart is doing what he can to join in the fight for what he believes in with his voice and with his vote.

Watch Stewart's interview on "The View" below.

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Milwaukee staged a 'Day Without Latinos.' Here's what that looked like.

Calling for an end to deportation raids, Wisconsinites gathered for a 'Day Without Latinos.'

When Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) agents detained and deported Guadalupe Garcia de Rayos in early February, it became clear that President Trump was taking a no-holds-barred approach to immigration.

Ripped from her family, from her two teenage children, Garcia de Rayos was just one of more than 680 undocumented immigrants detained by ICE around the country in the past week. It quickly became clear that Trump's hardline stance on undocumented immigrants was more than just tough talk, leaving many of the more than 11 million undocumented population feeling rightfully nervous that their city may soon be next.

Recently, outspoken Trump supporter and Milwaukee County Sheriff David Clarke indicated plans to enroll his officers in the Department of Homeland Security's 287(g) program, allowing local law enforcement to act alongside ICE in detaining undocumented immigrants. Soon after, Wisconsin immigration activists began to mobilize in response.


Sheriff David Clarke spoke at a Trump campaign event on Oct. 17, 2016 in Green Bay, Wisconsin. Photo by Tasos Katopodis/AFP/Getty Images.

On Monday, Feb. 13, thousands of Latinos, immigrants, and allies flooded the streets of Milwaukee, Wisconsin, in protest of Trump and Clarke.

Calling it a "Day Without Latinxs, Immigrants, and Refugees," civil and workers' rights group Voces de la Frontera organized a single-day strike. Immigrants, refugees, and Latino workers from around the state took the day off work and gathered for a march on the Milwaukee County Courthouse.

The goal of the strike is to use collective economic power — making their absence from the workforce felt — in a statement about how integral immigrants are to the fabric of America.

"We arrived here from more than 25 cities in Wisconsin to show Trump and his lapdog Sheriff Clarke that the people of Milwaukee, the people of Wisconsin, and this whole country reject the 287g program, which is part of this mass deportation plan," said Christine Neumann-Ortiz, Executive Director of Voces de la Frontera in a statement.

"Today, we organized a Day Without Latinxs, Immigrants, and Refugees to use our economic power — through work stoppages, small business closures and our consumer boycotts, to defend our families and communities."

There are more than 11 million undocumented immigrants in the U.S., and they actually help the economy, rather than hurt it.

A 2016 analysis by the Institute on Taxation and Economic Policy (ITEP) found that undocumented immigrants contribute roughly $11.6 billion a year in taxes.

During his campaign, President Trump tried to create the impression that undocumented immigrants are a drain on the country's resources. That's simply not an accurate portrayal of their contribution to America's economy.

Undocumented immigrants pay into systems, such as Social Security, though they'll never collect on it.

Another common thread during Trump's campaign and in the early weeks of his presidency is a supposed connection between undocumented immigrants and crime. In reality, undocumented immigrants are less likely to commit crime than U.S. citizens.

Trump opened his campaign by calling Mexicans rapists. At the Republican National Convention last July, Trump invited families of people murdered by undocumented immigrants to speak. Last month, he announced plans to publish a weekly list of crimes committed by undocumented immigrants. All of this gives the impression that undocumented immigrants are dangerous.

The reality is that a number of studies have found that undocumented immigrants are actually less prone to crime than citizens.

Ripping people away from their families and sending them back to countries where they haven't lived in years — decades even — isn't going to make America great.

Whether they're citizens or not, the people who live here, who work here, who love here — they're Americans. And that's what the strike and the #DayWithoutLatinos was all about. From an economic point of view, it's better to have a "Day Without Latinos" than a country without Latinos. They're a part of the American story, no matter how they came here or whether they have the right kind of identification. We need to stand up in support of our fellow Americans.

People are making their voices heard. On Feb. 13, it was in Milwaukee. Wherever it's needed next, let's commit to standing on the right side of history.

You can learn more about Voces de la Frontera's work at its website.

As Thanksgiving approaches, the future remains uncertain for all Americans — especially new American citizens.

If you were born in America, your first Thanksgiving was probably spent as a bewildered baby, being spoon-fed mashed potatoes by giant people whom you would later come to recognize as your family members. As an adult, the only thing that's really different is who's holding the spoon.

Plus whatever this is. Photo by Hiroko Masuike/Getty Images.


For many immigrants who've recently become U.S. citizens, however, this Thanksgiving won't be like any other. It's supposed to be a holiday where you reflect on what you're thankful for, but after a divisive election filled with anti-immigrant rhetoric, finding things to be thankful for can be challenging.

I spoke to five new American citizens about what's on their minds this Thanksgiving and what they're thankful for. Their answers are inspiring, difficult, and incredibly important to hear. For the most part, though, they're doing what the rest of us will be doing on Thanksgiving — just with more anxiety.

Santiago Svidler, an Argentinian immigrant who became a citizen in 2014, is openly frustrated about the state of the country but is looking forward to being with his family on Thanksgiving.

A politically conscious journalism major at California State University, Northridge, Svidler knows that the election and all of its implications will surely be a topic of conversation around the dinner table.

"It’s been on everyone’s mind," Svidler says. "I’m a gay, Jewish, Latino man. My brother is a gay, Jewish, Latino man also. Even though we're American citizens, it still concerns us. ... Our rights as immigrants, our family's rights, LGBT rights ... this affects all of us."

With a family so diverse, you bet their Thanksgiving table reflects that. Aside from the typical turkey, stuffing, and mashed potatoes, "we also accommodate all of our family members’ dietary needs. So there’s vegan for those who are vegan; there’s vegetarian options [too]," Svidler says.

Photo courtesy of Santiago Svidler.

As for where he finds hope and things to be grateful for in the wake of the election, Svidler admitted it's hard. "This is like a grieving stage," he says. But regardless of what the president-elect tries to do, "we're going to stand up and fight for our rights. Because this is an America that is for everyone, not just those at the top who are white, male, heterosexual."

He recently attended a protest in Los Angeles that reminded him of how much he appreciates the ability to speak his mind. "Everyone had different signs that they made affiliated with what their cause is," Svidler explains. "It went from abortion rights to immigration to student debt. It was a huge variety, and it was great to see this because it feels as if we’re being heard."

Luisana DeGolyer has lived in America for decades after moving here with her family from Venezuela in the '80s, but this will be her first Thanksgiving as a U.S. citizen.

"When my dad came here, he didn’t speak English. He didn’t have any money," DeGolyer explains over the phone. Her parents worked really hard to land on their feet in America. After moving from job to job, her father started his own business, which DeGolyer says is now worth millions of dollars and employs many family members, herself included.

Photo courtesy of Luisana DeGolyer.

"I live and breathe the family business, so I put a lot of things on the back burner," she says of her decision not to pursue her citizenship until recently. "You put things off because you feel safe. You think 'I was raised here, I’m not going to go anywhere.'" She says her sister is currently pursuing her own U.S. citizenship.

With the uncertainty of the election looming and not knowing who was going to be the next president, "I thought, 'I better do it,' and I’m glad I did," DeGolyer says.

Like DeGolyer, a lot of other immigrants decided 2016 was a good year to make their U.S. citizenships official.

There's been a surge in people applying for citizenship in the wake of the 2016 presidential election, according to the Los Angeles Times. Anti-immigrant rhetoric coming out of the election and deep uncertainty about their future has pushed hundreds of thousands of immigrants to go through the process of becoming citizens.

A naturalization ceremony in Washington, D.C. Photo by Saul Loeb/AFP/Getty Images.

After living in America for 20 years, Nicola Ward, an immigrant from Scotland, is looking forward to celebrating her first "official" Thanksgiving.

The biggest factor that motivated her to pursue her U.S. citizenship was her daughter.

When you're not a citizen during an election year, Ward says, you look at what could potentially happen to you based on the candidates. Given Donald Trump's anti-immigrant platform, her decision to become a citizen was mostly about "peace of mind" for herself and her daughter.

Nicola Ward and her daughter. Photo courtesy of Nicola Ward.

"If something were to happen, I would potentially go back to Scotland and she would be here with her dad," Ward explains. "That’s always a huge fear that’s in the back of anybody's mind who’s not a U.S. citizen: What happens to my child?"

Ward's newfound peace of mind means she can spend a nice relaxing Thanksgiving with her (very excited) daughter. "She's all about the holidays," Ward says.

While she's thankful for her new citizenship status, Ward says she's most thankful for the opportunity it gave her to cast a vote in the election. "One of my biggest milestones was to say that I actually voted. And even though people say that their vote doesn't count, it did to me," Ward says.

For Alyona Koneva, who finally got her citizenship after moving to the U.S. from Russia 11 years ago, Thanksgiving dinner will be a quiet date with her husband, combining traditions from both of their cultures.

Koneva is in grad school getting her master's in clinical psychology and works as a therapist in a hospital where she talks to a lot of immigrants from low-income communities. Being away from her family has been tough, but at least she has her husband close by.

"He’s Hispanic," Koneva says. "They also have all kinds of different twists on Thanksgiving. So we’ll probably do tamales, we’ll do ham, and we'll do borscht."

Photo courtesy of Alyona Koneva.

"I’m happy that now being an American citizen, I have these rights that I didn’t have" in Russia, Koneva says.

The election is weighing heavily on Koneva's mind, especially when she thinks of her patients. "My heart hurts for my patients and also my fellow coworkers and peers because I feel like [the election is] really going to affect the mental health field." She says there's already a huge need for resources there.

"Just seeing how distraught my patients are and how scared they are, it's pretty heartbreaking," Kovena says, though she's trying to keep an open mind that everything will work out. "I love being able to help people, especially those in need."

Ronni Prakoth, whose mother immigrated from Suriname and whose father immigrated from India, is going all-out for Thanksgiving at her sister's house.

"I think [my sister] wants me to make green bean casserole, but nobody ever eats it!" Prakoth says.

Photo courtesy of Ronni Prakoth.

Despite cultural adjustments like growing up on pizza seasoned with Indian spices, Prakoth says she loves the United States and has a deep appreciation for the immigrant experience.

"I love living in America," Prakoth says. "I know in my heart that this is the only country that I could live in. This is the culture that I’ve become accustomed to. Even at times when we take it for granted, this is my home."

Whatever thoughts you have about Thanksgiving — that it's the best holiday ever or that it's an awkward, gluttonous ode to genocidal colonialism — we can all take some time to remember our blessings.

Despite the fear and uncertainty weighing on their minds, every single one of these new American citizens easily listed things they were thankful for.

For DeGolyer, it's her children, her health, and her husband's release from prison. For Ward, it's her family and the opportunity to vote in an American election for the first time. Koneva is thankful that whatever the political situation is here, it's not as bad as it is in her native Russia. And Svidler is thankful for his recently born niece.

Finding things to be thankful for when you're scared and facing four years of an unstable, unpredictable presidential administration is no small feat. But just because there are things to be thankful for in a tumultuous present doesn't mean that we should stop working to make our country a better, safer place for everyone to live in regardless of what they look like or what kind of paperwork they have.

So what does it feel like to be a new American citizen at Thanksgiving this year? There isn't one answer. It feels nerve-wracking, frustrating, and confusing. They're looking for answers, solutions, and peace of mind. They're grateful to be with their families and for the ability to exercise their rights. They're feeling cautiously optimistic and hopeful, and they're proud of their country.

On Thanksgiving, they'll do what we all do: They'll keep moving forward, and they'll keep eating turkey.