Ben’s Immigration Story – Kinshasa, the Democratic Republic of the Congo to Corvallis, Oregon

Childhood

Ben and his six siblings grew up in Kinshasa, the capital city of the Democratic Republic of the Congo. His mother stayed home, and his father had a high-profile job, working as the financial advisor to the President of the Senate. Ben witnessed how hard his father worked so his children could have the best of everything from an early age.

Above: A photo of Ben’s father on his phone

“We were going to an expensive school when he could have put us in another school to save money. He did his best for my brother and me to come to the US and have the best opportunity.”  

Ben could see how fortunate his family was compared to many other families. Kinshasa is a busy city with many people out in the street finding ways to make some money – cutting hair, carrying things, holding open doors, selling candy. 

“There is a lot of joy in my country. Even if the country is in a very bad situation, they try to have fun and enjoy life.” 

Ben does not miss Kinshasa’s inefficient public transportation. He explains how it is common to have to fight to get on the bus at rush hour. Ben does miss how social riding the bus can be.

“You would be inside the bus, and then someone would comment on politics, or soccer or music. Everyone on the bus would start talking about that specific topic, and you would all be talking with random people.” (audio below)

United States

Ben didn’t grow up planning to study outside of the DRC, and he definitely didn’t want to go to the US. He had heard too many stories of racism there. 

Ben, who grew up speaking French, was attending a private American school in the Congo to learn English, and the school had a presentation about studying in the US that intrigued Ben. His brother already went to Portland Community College in Oregon, and Ben’s dad thought Ben should go to the US too. These events catalyzed Ben’s decision to journey to America. 

Ben flew into Portland, Oregon, in 2014 to join his brother and start classes at Portland Community College. He had to make a few adjustments: despite knowing some English from school in the DRC he found it hard to understand Americans, and the food in the US didn’t taste right. He felt like he was only eating it because he was starving. Ben missed dishes like fufu and pondu, which are popular in the DRC.  

Ben’s reaction when he couldn’t understand what someone was was to smile back, and assume they were saying something kind. Ben knew racism is a problem in the US, but he wasn’t expecting to encounter it within a week of arriving in the US.

“We were walking to the bus station, and there were two guys, one of them said something to me, so I smiled and walked by. My brother told me he was making a racist comment.” (audio below)

United States

Ben found it stressful being in a new place without family, compounded by the fact that he had no money. Ben’s dad lost his job right after Ben arrived in the US, so he didn’t know how he was going to pay rent, let alone stay in the United States. Luckily friends helped him with rent, and one friend from the student government at PCC helped with tuition. Ben went on to graduate with his associate degree and transferred to Oregon State.

Geology

Ben grew up on a continent with a long history of European resource exploitation, as well as human rights abuses of miners, who often are children. Learning about this led Ben to choose geology as his field of study. 

I wanted to study geology so I could eventually go back home and start a mineral company, hire the local population, and give them a good salary.

Above: A friend gave Ben this necklace so he never forgets where he is from

Africa

On-campus at Oregon State, Ben tries his best to be a cultural ambassador. He tries to be an advocate for “everything that is African culture.” 

The problem with a lot of immigrants is that we want to be part of this community so badly, and we think that by rejecting our origins or who we are, it will help us be accepted. I don’t think this is the case. Once you reject your origin or your culture so that you don’t have a unique identity, it is harder for people to accept you.” (audio below)

Most people Ben encounters on campus know nothing about the Congo, and very little about Africa. 

They assume it is in Africa because I’m black and my necklace. A lot of the time, people talk about Africa as though it was a country, not a continent. People will ask, ‘what is it like to live in Africa?’ I don’t know because I’ve only lived in my country!” (audio below)

Black On Campus

It isn’t always comfortable being black on Oregon State’s campus. Ben’s community in Corvallis comes mostly from the Black Student Union (BSU) – a place for connecting with others who are going through similar experiences. The BSU is a space where a lot of students can make connections and build community. There is a lot of conversation, listening to music and laughter. 

“You have something happen to you, and you think you are the only one. Then you get there, and you see it has happened to other people too.”

They have had hate crimes on campus, and in his time at Oregon State, Ben has heard a lot of racist jokes. 

“Oregon State is very white. You could find yourself in a room of 200 people and only two black people in the room. If a teacher starts a conversation about slavery or black people, you will have everyone look at you like you are an expert.” (audio below)

Above: The flyer from when Ben ran for student president and was the runner-up

Involved

Aside from the BSU, Ben is also a member of the African Student Association and the “Here to Stay Club” at OSU. He made several friends who are DACA (Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals) recipients since coming to the US. Ben could feel his friends’ fear after the 2016 election and decided to be a more vocal ally. 

The “Here to Stay Club” at Oregon State is working to create a Dreamers Center on campus, something Ben advocated for when he ran for student body president and finished runner-up.

Home

Despite some of the challenges Ben has faced, he considers Corvallis a beautiful place to study. It’s quiet, so he feels like it’s easier to focus on studying.

On his first day at OSU, he met his roommate Sierra from New Jersey [see the top right photo]. When Ben had to have surgery on his knee, she was the one who drove him to the hospital and cared for him afterward. She has also helped him when he hasn’t been able to pay the rent. Ben’s life in the US wouldn’t be the same without friends like Sierra.

The Election

The night of the 2016 presidential election, Ben was at a PCC viewing party with the rest of the student council. He was the last student to leave campus that day, and he called a taxi to go home. It was the first time Ben had felt unsafe in an Uber or Lyft. The driver asked Ben, 

“Did you watch the results?’ What are you going to do about it? Trump is President now. Are you going to leave or stay?’” (audio below)

Ben thinks America needed the 2016 election to mobilize people into helping marginalized communities. 

“If it weren’t for that election, some people would still be at home not doing anything. It brought people together.”

 Above: Ben loves listening to music to relax

International Student

Ben’s adjustment to being in the US has taken its toll on his mental health. He guesses that many international students share in this experience – especially those who come from countries where mental health is considered taboo. What Ben expected and what the reality was when he arrived in the US was completely different. For instance, the cost of living and the level of pressure at school both surprised him. All of this, plus the challenges he knew his parents were facing back home – like his Dad losing his job – made it much worse.

Since he arrived at OSU, Ben has been trying to talk to a counselor, but there is always a long waiting list.  

“When you are mentally not in the right place, how can they expect you to do well in your classes?” (audio below)

Future

Ben’s plan is to finish his bachelor’s degree, get a master’s degree, and then work in the US for a while. After that, he would like to return to the DRC. Ben had two dreams growing up. His first was becoming a soccer star, and that ended with a knee injury. His second dream was to one day become president. He still holds on to that second dream. 

As they say in the DRC,

“If you go first, it doesn’t mean you will arrive first.” (audio below)

#FINDINGAMERICAN

To receive updates on the book release and exhibition of “Finding American: Stories of Immigration from all 50 States” please subscribe here. This project is a labor of love and passion. If you would like to support its continuation, it would be greatly appreciated!

© Photos and text by Colin Boyd Shafer | Edited by Kate Kamo McHugh. Quotes are edited for clarity and brevity.

Ivy’s Immigration Story – Nairobi, Kenya to Dallas, Texas

Childhood

Ivy grew up surrounded by her extended family, in Kenya’s “very collectivist culture”. She remembers playing outside with the other kids, going around and knocking on everyone’s doors. She remembers Nairobi as “one of the most perfect places on earth”.

Her mother, like her grandmother, worked in a bank, but in 1995, when Ivy was five, her mother left to join some of Ivy’s uncles who were already in the United States.

From an early age, Ivy loved to sing and perform in front of a crowd. She dreamt of one day being a pop star.

“I could have sworn I was going to be the next Britney Spears!” (audio below)

Her grandmother bought Ivy a baby grand piano after her mother left, and as Ivy learned to play it, her dreams only grew bigger.

After leaving Africa, Ivy’s mom worked long hours in the US as a CNA (certified nurse assistant), trying to save up enough money to bring Ivy to Dallas. Ivy remembers going around, telling everyone that she was going to America to be with her mom. Still, the first time she went to the US embassy to get a visa, it was denied. 

“I had to go back to school, and my friends were like, ‘I thought you were going to America!?’

United States

On the second try, Ivy got the visa. On December 31st, 1999 – just hours before Y2K – Ivy arrived in the US. She remembers thinking, “If the world ends, at least I’m in America.” Ivy was nine years old and especially excited about McDonald’s.

At her new elementary school in North Dallas, the administration assumed that as an African, Ivy wouldn’t speak English. From that moment on, Ivy felt like she had to always prove herself, and dispel all of the negative assumptions and stereotypes. The other kids in her class had so many questions for her – questions she thinks came from “genuine honesty.” 

‘In Africa did you have a house? Did you live in a grass hut?’”(audio below)

Ivy remembers standing in front of the mirror, trying to lose her accent. She also remembers making her first ‘American’ friend Allison, someone she is still friends with today.

Mavs’ Ballkid

Three years after arriving, Ivy, age 12, saw a commercial on TV for “hoop camp.” This would be an opportunity to play the sport she had always watched in Kenya. After enjoying the basketball camp, Ivy applied to become a Dallas Mavericks’ Ballkid (the kid who rebounds for the players and wipes the floor if a player falls). From the age of 12 until she was 18, she worked passionately as a Mavs’ Ballkid.

It wasn’t easy for Ivy’s mom to support the family. Rent was high in their neighborhood, but she wanted to live there because it had better school districts. While working as a CNA Ivy’s mom had cared for some alumni from a prestigious local private school called The Hockaday School. They told Ivy’s mom that she should apply for her daughter to go there, and one day Ivy came home to a Hockaday School uniform on her bed.

After attending The Hockaday School on financial aid, Ivy got a scholarship to study corporate communication at Marquette University in Wisconsin. She is extremely social, and her dorm room quickly became the “meeting spot.” Ivy says she’s always been “the person around whom people gather.” Marquette is where she met the father of her daughter, Kyani.

Poizon Ivy the DJ

While at Marquette, Ivy became the director of promotions at the college radio station. Part of the job was to host a radio show, but Ivy wanted to DJ instead of MC. She mentioned this to her friend Josh and the very next day, he showed up with two turntables, a mixer, a speaker, and introduced her to DJing. Ivy only planned on DJing for her radio show, but three months later, she was doing a show in front of 25,000 people and truly morphing into Poizon Ivy the DJ.

“It’s almost like DJing chose me. I didn’t choose it. That’s why to this day; I believe experience is the best teacher.”

Kyani Rose

Ivy’s daughter, Kyani Rose, is named after Ivy’s grandmother. Ivy says it’s hard to remember life before having Kyani in 2012. 

Above: Kyani wanting to put on her princess dress before going to the basketball game

“It’s like God allows you to erase everything you knew before. It’s like she is my little best friend. I wouldn’t trade it for the world.”

Home

Ivy always figured that she would move back to Dallas eventually. When she and Kyani’s father split up in 2015, Ivy and Kyani moved back to Texas to live with her mom.

“Dallas is Southern hospitality at its finest. I’ve seen more diverse cities, but you can find your place here.” 

Before moving back to Dallas, Ivy had had the opportunity to tour as the DJ for WNBA player Skylar Diggins‘s basketball camp. This experience got her thinking about DJing in bigger sports venues. In 2016, Ivy decided to cold call the WNBA’s Dallas Wings’ office, and it worked. She was hired on as their DJ. With confidence high, Ivy decided to email the NBA’s Dallas Mavericks and see if she could DJ for them as well. She knew it was a longshot, as the NBA had only ever had one female DJ, but the Mavs’ CMO remembered her from her years as a Mavs’ Ballkid, and the team happened to be looking for a DJ.

“In the interview, I told them I grew up in this building, and I know what it is supposed to sound like.” (audio below)

Ivy became the second-ever female DJ in the NBA. It was her goal from the start to ascend through the ranks from basketball camps to DJing the NBA All-Star Weekend, and in 2018 she was, in fact, the DJ on All-Star Sunday.

 “I was the first woman ever to do that. Another check off the list. Next: Team USA, Olympics, and then I’ll be done!”

Love

Since Kyani was born, every decision Ivy makes includes the question, “How will this affect my daughter?” DJing consumes Ivy “emotionally, physically and spiritually”. She often brings Kyani with her to work because some weeks, that is the only time she can see her. 

“I feel like if she’s around me, I’m able to influence her. I look at her and I know I only have one chance to get this right. It’s the most beautiful thing ever.” (audio below)

Ivy tries her best to hide her life’s stresses from Kyani.

“I’m so stressed out, and she’s the one I’m around the most. I don’t want her to be a punching bag of sorts. At the end of everything is Kyani, and at the beginning of everything is Kyani.”

Ivy thinks more people should talk openly about the challenges of motherhood. She knows firsthand how lonely and challenging life can be as a single mother.

People ask Ivy all the time if DJing is her “full-time job”. Since she was 21, DJing is the only job Ivy has ever had.

“It’s how I have to provide for Kyani and myself for the rest of our lives. I don’t know where I would be without it.”

Game Time

When Ivy is DJing a Mavs game, the first thing she does is look over the game script and prepare the music. The “hotkeys” need to be programmed for things like the kiss cam, marriage proposals, and any other moments requiring a sound effect.

“I have to watch more basketball than I care to. I literally control the pace of this game. The energy derives from the sound.”

Audio: Announcing birthdays at the game

Ivy jokes about what it would be like if she didn’t show up to work one day, and everyone had a silent basketball game!

Friends

When Ivy was a Ballkid, she got to know the Mavs ManiAACs, a group of large men who dance and entertain the crowd during the games. “Big Rob” from Louisiana, has been a ManiAAC for almost two decades and has known Ivy since childhood.

“I’m so proud of her on so many levels. Coming up as a Ballkid, to being the only African American female DJ in the whole NBA – that’s a huge accomplishment, and she’s just starting!” (audio below)

Erin [the above photo top right], the Mavs Vice President, Corporate Communications and Events, comments on how, many people, come to the games to see Ivy. It’s normal to see fans coming up to Ivy for a big hug.  

“She has her own fandom and a huge social media following. Where music and sports meet is where she sits, and it is awesome!”

Above: Ivy saying hi to friends at the game

One fan named Gary [see the photo above left] from Indianapolis has been a season ticket holder since 1985 and is a big DJ Poizon Ivy fan.

“I can tell you that Poizon puts a really nice vibe in the arena. She’s putting her own stamp on it, and it’s great to have her here.” (audio below)

Above: Ivy posing for a selfie with a fan from the opposing team

Africa

Ivy knows her influence goes farther than the United States. She wants to have an impact on Africa and tries to return to her home continent as often as possible. 

“I get so many messages that say: ‘girls in Kenya need to know about you! You were born here just like them – they can relate. You come from where they come from – walked the same streets.’ You have to push stuff out there to be that hope or beam of light for someone.”

Ivy recently got a message from her former kindergarten teacher saying that she had named her child Ivy after her.

“I’m being very intentional in connecting everything I do now to Kenya. My life can be most meaningful if I find a way to impact Kenya too.”

It is very important to Ivy that Kyani experiences and understands Kenya and is exposed to other ways of life, which is why she has already brought her to Africa twice.

“It is important for her to go there and see that we are very fortunate to have this life, but at the same time, things are happening over there that we don’t have here. Very often, the light isn’t shed both ways.”

Above: DJ Poizon Ivy being introduced at the American Airlines Center

Music

Ivy can’t imagine a world without sound. It is the sense she cherishes most. 

“It’s the one thing in my life that I don’t think I’d be able to conquer. There is so much music in the world. It is a universal language, a unifier – it heals and soothes.” (audio below)

Ivy currently DJs at a local Dallas radio station K104 as well as at the Mavs & Wings games. Ivy loves her job. Sometimes she does wish though that people focused more on her as a DJ as opposed to a female DJ. (audio below)

Future

Every day, as she drives to and from work, Ivy sees people in Dallas who are struggling socio-economically. She’s trying to figure out how best to use her platform to benefit those who are less fortunate, in the US and in Africa.

“The world is at a weird dark place right now. I hope we will see a world where people are truly equal.”

Ivy’s grandpa, who she was only able to meet once before he died, was a politician. Ivy hasn’t ruled out the possibility of getting into politics or becoming the first female commissioner of the NBA.

#FINDINGAMERICAN

To receive updates on the book release and exhibition of “Finding American: Stories of Immigration from all 50 States” please subscribe here. This project is a labor of love and passion. If you would like to support its continuation, it would be greatly appreciated!

© Photos and text by Colin Boyd Shafer | Edited by Kate Kamo McHugh. Quotes edited for clarity and brevity.

Ruth’s Immigration Story – Murehwa, Zimbabwe to Bellevue, Nebraska

Childhood

Ruth was born in Murehwa, a small rural town 50 miles northeast of Zimbabwe’s capital Harare.

When Ruth came into this world, her mother was still in high school. Nobody knew her biological mother had been pregnant, so from the start, “Gogo” (Ruth’s grandmother), acted as her mom. 

Gogo loved telling folk tales. A lot of her stories, common in Ruth’s culture, were about animals with superpowers. Gogo’s usual tales revolved around a baboon and a rabbit, and in every story, the rabbit outsmarts the baboon. Each time the story was recounted, the details would change a little bit, and she always took forever to get to the point. 

“In America, kids have fairytale books, but for me, it was through storytelling. They forced you to imagine.” (audio below)

When Ruth thinks back to those early days when her grandmother told stories, she recalls the intensity of the stars in the sky. They didn’t have electricity, but there was fire. She would walk barefoot over the red soil to get water from the stream. It was a life of little routines.

Above: Ruth’s late mother holding her late baby sister, Chido.

Tragedies

Despite the positive memories of her grandmother, Ruth’s life had a tragic beginning. When Ruth was five, her mother died by suicide, and one month after that, Ruth’s only sister died from measles. After these tragedies, Ruth moved around between her mother’s siblings. Gogo tried her best to make sure everyone was friendly to Ruth, as she was often treated more like “the help” than a part of the family.

“I knew that I was so loved by this woman. I’ve had so many twists and turns in my life, but the grounding in my grandmother’s love is why I seem to be able to get through whatever.” (audio below)


Above: Ruth (on the right in red) at her cousin’s birthday. “I was serving them food – often treated like the help – exactly like Cinderella.”

Different

Ruth grew up in a culture with clearly defined gender roles, but she didn’t fit the mold. She remembers hearing from relatives that she must be cursed. 

“I was aware from a very early age that I was different in how I liked to dress. I was such a tomboy. They would try to buy me dresses and skirts – but they would be left untouched. I would wear the same pair of shorts for weeks at a time. Family would visit from the rural areas. They would be there for a week without any idea that I was a girl.” (audio below)

Ruth remembers the deep high school crushes she had on women, but it wasn’t something she would ever admit. There was no representation of the LGBTIQ community in Zimbabwe at the time, so being a lesbian wasn’t something she even knew existed. Her aunt had a gay hairdresser, but nobody labeled him as “gay” – he just “existed.” 

United Kingdom

In the late 1990s, Zimbabwe’s economy was collapsing, and many people were leaving. Ruth wanted to get out too, so two days after writing her high school exams in 1998, she was on a flight to England. Ruth thought it was a great opportunity, but when she arrived, the situation wasn’t as expected. She was essentially going to be doing housework for almost zero pay- they were exploiting her.

At 18, Ruth was young and vulnerable. She didn’t know she could have enrolled in Nursing School since Zimbabwe is a former British colony.

“When people lack information, they struggle when they shouldn’t.”

She managed to leave her “job” and went to work at a furniture shop. Eventually, she started doing “care work” – the common form of employment for Zimbabweans in England. Ruth began to send money back to Zimbabwe. She felt rich, but she didn’t feel accepted. 

Nebraska

Ruth’s aunt connected her to a friend, who had a friend, and this is what brought her to South Omaha, Nebraska in July 1999 – on a visitor’s visa, but she didn’t plan on leaving.

Again things weren’t as she expected. This friend of a friend was a “troubled soul,” with a six-month-old baby that she expected Ruth to look after. Ruth felt stuck. Luckily this woman’s sister came by one day, noticed that Ruth wasn’t in a good place, and took Ruth to enroll in classes to become a Certified Nurse Assistant (CNA).  

If Ruth had known, she would have applied to school right away and switched to an F1 Student Visa, or she could have even applied for asylum. Still, instead, her visitor visa expired, and she became undocumented. 

Ruth explains how living in the shadows wasn’t too complicated back then. She recognizes her privilege, explaining how she believes it would have been a lot harder to live “under the radar” if she was from Central or South America, or couldn’t speak English well. (audio below)

After graduating, Ruth started working as a CNA at a nursing home.

Abuse

At 21, Ruth met the father of her two children. It should have been easy for Ruth to have her status adjusted since she married a US citizen, but he didn’t have a birth certificate, which complicated things. Early on in their relationship, there were signs of emotional and physical abuse, and she regrets staying in the relationship as long as she did. “I was young and naive.” 

Audio: Ruth reading from her memoir about the day her daughter Chido was born – “the happiest day of my life”.

At nursing school, Ruth also developed a crush on a woman in her program, and she told her husband about her attraction to women. It was also the first time she had admitted this to herself. In 2007 Ruth graduated as a registered nurse. Ruth wanted to take her children ages one and three, and leave her marriage, but her husband wasn’t going to let this happen.

“I had no idea it would get as horrible as it did. There is nothing he didn’t try to do. When I look back now, it’s very possible he could have killed me because he wasn’t in his right mind.”

Ruth explains how, since all of this happened, her ex-husband was diagnosed as having bipolar disorder while in prison. She believes he is a different, better, person now.

Deportation

Ruth had a restraining order on her husband, forcing him out of the house. In an attempt to have her deported, he reported Ruth to ICE (The U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement). She ended up spending a month in jail away from her children.

“ICE agents showed up with guns and bulletproof vests at six in the morning. Luckily my aunt who had raised me from 10-18 was granted asylum. She was able to take my kids, so they weren’t thrown in foster care.” (audio below)

For the next three years, Ruth was in a different divorce or immigration court every few weeks. They finalized their divorce in 2010, and Ruth was granted sole custody. Because of what went through, Ruth was able to file for VAWA (Violence Against Women Act). The Vermont office approved her case, but the local office denied it. She is still in the process of challenging this denial and will be back in court in 2021. For now, she gets a yearly work permit. 

Her “Plan B” is to file for asylum based on the fact she came out after she left her country and homosexuality is illegal and punishable by jail in Zimbabwe.

“I have an amazing team of lawyers who have followed my story. I try not to worry about it because what will that do? In the meantime, I worry about raising happy kids.”

Ruth had been working in health care for a decade. After being arrested and detained, she no longer had a nursing license or a work permit. 

Cleaner

Ruth’s first girlfriend after her marriage had a family cleaning business. Ruth realized it was something she could do on her own after learning the trade from her girlfriend.

In 2011, Ruth bought a cleaning business starter kit for 20 dollars that helped her advertise online and listed the products she needed. Calls started coming in. Today Ruth’s business cleans for commercial buildings and big art galleries in the city. She also has had up to eight employees working for her.

“What’s most rewarding for me about the cleaning business is the ability to provide an income for other women, especially immigrant women.” 

She loves how the business is flexible, and she makes her hours. She also loves how it keeps her in shape. 

“It’s my gym. I love it. That’s how I get to look how I look, and I’m almost 40 – vacuuming those stairs!” (audio below)

Parenting

The divorce and Ruth’s detention were extremely traumatic for the children. She has taken them to therapy and tries her best to give them consistency and stability at home.

“That’s the thing about being a single parent. I have to be the affectionate one, but I also have to be the one who gives structure. My kids started doing their own laundry in second grade and cooking at ages three and four. I read about other people’s teenagers, and I’m like ‘oh, my God!’ – that’s just not my experience. I think all parents are biased, but Chido and Simba are such amazing kids.” (audio below)

“Not having parents gave me a different perspective. It’s almost as if I parent from the standpoint of if I had had a mother, what would I want my mother to be like for me.”

Ruth is starting to work on a parenting book since what she is doing as a single mom seems to be working.

Chido is named after Ruth’s late sister. She dreams of going to Yale, studying medicine, and becoming a “bilingual neurosurgeon.” She is already working on the bilingual part by studying Spanish at school. Chido never thought of herself as particularly athletic, then she medalled in cross-country. Ruth found out that her biological father was a cross-country champion, so maybe it is in Chido’s genes? Someday Chido would love to set up a foundation to help kids in Zimbabwe and buy a house for her mom. 

“I think my mom is really brave. She inspires me to do a lot of things I wouldn’t have otherwise done.”  (audio below)

Simba’s dream is to go to Duke on a basketball scholarship and play in the NBA.

“I like how you get to work with the team. There is no ‘I’ in ‘Team.’” (audio below)

Ruth says he is just as smart as his sister; he just puts in a little less effort. At home, Simba is the “domestic” one, making coffee or vacuuming. One of his favorite things about his mom is that she takes them traveling. 

Ruth’s other child is Hillary Clinton.

“I come from a culture where pets stay outside – cats are evil. If you have a cat, you are a witch. My kids have always wanted a pet because they don’t come from that culture. One client has a farm and the cats had babies. We fostered some cats, and then we decided to get a permanent cat. That’s how Hillary Clinton became a part of our family.”

Racism

According to Ruth, Omaha, which includes smaller surrounding cities like Bellevue, is racially and socio-economically segregated – the north is black, south is Latino, the west is white, and the white liberals live in Dundee. Ruth explains how this segregation relates directly to how well-funded the school districts are.

“One advantage of being an immigrant is that because things have gone wrong in our country and we want the best for our kids, we don’t ask where the black people are, we just move to where the best schools are. Most black and brown people around here [in Bellevue] are immigrants.”

Because she grew up in a country with a black majority, she feels like sometimes she may experience racism in the US and not even notice it. To Ruth, “the system is invisible.”

“When I get pulled over, I am really nice to the cop, and would never think I am being targeted. I know if I were born here, my thinking would be different. In the end, it is a huge advantage. It is almost like I have blinders on.” (audio below)

Activist

Since she was a young girl, Ruth has had a love of writing – an art that seemed to give birth to her activism.

In 2012 she released her memoir: Freedom of an Illegal Immigrant. Her second book, OUTsider: Crossing Borders. Breaking Rules. Gaining Pride (2014) is a celebration of sexuality. Her most recent book is Indelicate Things: A Collection of Narratives About the Female Body Giving and Receiving Pleasure (2015). Today Ruth’s writing focuses primarily on memoir and erotica. 

Ruth has been using her writing skills to help LGBTIQ people who are living in countries where their safety is at risk. In at least six instances, Ruth helped write the testimonials, for individuals granted asylum.

“I try to be really visible as an LGBTQ African.”

Future

Her children recently got their passports, and Ruth is incredibly excited. They have big travel plans – Canada, South Africa, and beyond. They hope to visit a different place every summer. 

“My future dreams are making sure I am supporting and guiding my kids to be best at whatever it is they want to do – to accomplish their goals. Compared to my life, they have no excuses. They have every privilege I never had. I never want them to see themselves as victims in life. They have to take advantage of the opportunities they have. That’s how you help the world.” (audio below)

#FINDINGAMERICAN

To receive updates on the book release and exhibition of “Finding American: Stories of Immigration from all 50 States” please subscribe here. This project is a labor of love and passion. If you would like to support its continuation, it would be greatly appreciated!

© Photos and text by Colin Boyd Shafer | Edited by Kate Kamo McHugh. Quotes are edited for clarity and brevity.

Mukesha’s Immigration Story – Kigali, Rwanda to Louisville, Kentucky

Rwanda

“I don’t know anything about my hometown Kigali, Rwanda, besides the stories I have heard from my parents. I have no connection to Rwanda besides the blood that is flowing through my veins and the language I share with my parents. Rwanda is the country on every document that I have.” (audio below)

Mukesha’s parents have told her stories of what it was like before the genocide, what their childhoods were like – playing under the trees, watching the stars at night – stories of joy. Once the genocide started, the stories are sad – running away and being torn from family.

Her parents are reluctant to talk about Rwanda; it is a reminder of how much they have lost.

Above: Mukesha’s pre-school graduation shortly after moving to South Africa

South Africa

In Rwanda, her parents had good jobs and were living comfortably as middle-class citizens. When they arrived in South Africa in 1998 as asylum seekers when Mukesha was six, they couldn’t enter the formal labor market. Her parents ended up doing odd jobs to put food on their table. Mukesha is grateful for all the sacrifices her parents have made.

A diverse place, Mukesha is happy to have grown up in Durban. Still, as she aged, she became more and more aware of being a “foreigner”: bringing a different lunch to school and braiding her hair differently from others. She remembers in sixth grade getting called “ kwerekwere” – a derogatory term to describe foreigners. To fit in, Mukesha found herself drawn towards friends who were South African, and avoiding kids, who like herself, were from other parts of Africa. (audio below)

Life was callous for those who weren’t South African.

Above: Mukesha’s First Holy Communion

Dreamer

Mukesha’s faith has played a pivotal role in her development.

 “We didn’t have much in South Africa, but we had our faith. We would say the family prayer together. I remember thanking God for braces before I could afford them.” 

Mukesha says she has always been a dreamer. “I was kind of delusional, to be honest.” She wanted to become a teacher, a profession she started pretending to do very early on in her life.

“I used to teach math to dolls with missing arms, and teddy bears with missing eyes.”

Her mom told her that teachers don’t get paid much, and that ended that dream. When it came time for university, Law was her first choice. Her parents explained to her how nobody would hire her as a lawyer in South Africa since she was a foreigner. Instead, her parents wanted her to be a doctor or nurse, as it wouldn’t matter if she were a “foreigner.”

Her second choice was a degree in Media Communications and Business Management, which is what she ended up studying. She had grown up watching and wanting to be like Oprah, so working in the media seemed exciting. (audio below)

Resettlement

The “xenophobic attacks” that swept South Africa were the catalyst to her family, starting the resettlement process in 2008. Mukesha describes how these attacks began as some people making fun of “foreigners,” and escalated to people like her being burned alive. She remembers all five of them being in a room presenting their story to a UNHCR (United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees) caseworker. Mukesha was 15 at the time, and what her parents said surprised her. She didn’t know the struggles her parents had been having – how hard it was to be a Rwandese adult in South Africa. 

“I felt like I had been in the dark all my life. OMG this is what they go through every single day in taxis, at work, on the bus.”

The family did these interviews several times; then, they separated them to do individual interviews to make sure their stories matched up. It felt unnecessary, and Mukesha felt like it was “reinforcing trauma.”  Her family waited in a state of limbo – hoping to get the word. She would go to school to write a test and think ‘should I study for this if I am going to America tomorrow?’ It wasn’t easy for her to finish college with so much going on in the background. They waited for six years. Finally, in 2014, the same day Mukesha graduated college, they found out that they had 48 hours to pack and be ready to leave for the United States.

“I should be celebrating. I am getting this thing I always wanted, but what about my friends? How do I say goodbye? It all just happened so quickly.” (audio below)

Hillbillies

Before boarding the plane, their caseworker handed them their resettlement package, and said, “Oh, by the way, your family is going to Kentucky.” Mukesha had never heard of Kentucky. She had heard of Los Angeles or New York, but not Kentucky. Mukesha googled Kentucky on her phone, and all she saw was farms, farmers, and the term ‘hillbillies’ came up, which she didn’t understand. This surprised and angered her. The address on their resettlement package was for the resettlement agency (Catholic Charities) but Mukesha thought that was where they were going to be living. When she googled the address, it was a church!

“I was like, ‘Mom; they are taking us to a church!’ I was already mad that we were coming to Kentucky, and now we were going to be living in church! My mom said the novena like ten times and the rosary, ‘God, hopefully, we are not going to a church’. I was freaking out. This is America; I’m expecting big things! As we are landing, we start to see bridges and houses, and I was like, ‘Oh, this is actually a city.’” (audio below)

Arrival

Mukesha had never been on a plane – especially one landing in a snowstorm. After arriving in Kentucky, the person who picked them up spoke to them in a “deep Swahili accent,” which Mukesha thought was funny since her family can speak English. Another volunteer warned them that the neighborhood they were moving into wasn’t the best. 

“It’s important to remember perspective – you can only see what you see based on where you are standing. For me, it seemed like a nice apartment with three bedrooms! I can share a room with my sister, and my room has a door that you can close! The fridge was stocked, we had vouchers, and we ate as a family for the first time in years.” (audio below)

Shock

For the first two weeks in Kentucky, they stayed inside their new apartment. The one thing they noticed right away was that there weren’t a lot of people around.

 “Where are the people? In Africa you see people walking around. People in America don’t walk. We started to feel nostalgic for the whole community vibe.”

That first trip to the supermarket overwhelmed Mukesha and she found herself asking: “Why do we need two aisles for cereal?” (audio below)

Another shock was when Mukesha’s family took the bus to their ESL (English as a Second Language) classes.

“That is where I saw the racial divide. The people on the bus looked like they were struggling. They were no different than the people I had seen in South Africa. This was not something that I ever expected to see here. The places the bus was driving through looked really bad.” (audio below)

Her family discussed their collective shock after taking the bus that first time. They were so confused by how this level of inequality and poverty could exist in America. In contrast, the church the white woman invited them to, used a bible made out of gold.

“The entire church, besides our family, was caucasian. They drove proper luxury cars! The neighborhood where the church is is very different from where the ESL classes are. This is when the divide hit me the first time. What’s happening here mirrored South Africa. Even though this is the country that everyone looks up to, it is not all roses and butterflies.” (audio below)

Amazon

Mukesha’s first job was at an Amazon warehouse, dealing with customer returns.

“When I got my first paycheck, I almost lost it.”

When she mentally converted the money to South African Rand, it was a lot, and this motivated her. This money meant she could finally get the braces she prayed for. Mukesha liked her manager and the job, but there was a lot of negative energy coming from the people she worked with. They complained a lot and thought her positivity was strange. She could feel the negativity rubbing off on her. The question she had for her fellow employees was, “If you don’t like the job, why don’t you leave it?” Now she realizes it isn’t easy to leave a job if you have bills and dependents. This job taught her a lot and it allowed Mukesha to be able to meet a lot of American veterans. She couldn’t believe the hardships they faced, after sacrificing so much for the country.

 “I had always wanted to meet an American veteran. Why would people who served the country come back and not be helped?”

A lot of people she worked with didn’t know any black people or any Africans. A coworker in their 40s asked her if she had a pet giraffe. An older white male coworker, who she considered a friend, told her how “paying taxes sucks.” When she asked why, he said, “Us Americans, we pay taxes to bring people like you here.” These comments frustrated Mukesha – she was paying taxes too, and her family had to pay back the money received for the flight to America.  (audio below)

Storytelling

Mukesha hopes that by sharing her story she can help the youth be more informed. It is for this reason that she has seized every opportunity to speak publicly about her experience as a refugee.

Above: Mukesha sharing her story with a group of middle-grade students

Many of the students she has shared her story with have written her letters that she has kept. One note from a student named Jordan says: “I have a completely different outlook on refugees now”. (audio below)

“Every time I’m feeling discouraged I read these letters for a reminder of how great life is.”

Crossroads Ministry

In 2016 Mukesha started working at the Crossroads Ministry – a retreat center where privileged students come to have relationship-building opportunities with marginalized people in overlooked places. Mukesha’s job is to lead these students as they visit agencies where they can connect and find commonalities with people different than themselves – whether it is a refugee, or an elderly person, or someone with substance abuse issues. The most important thing is that these students identify that this person they are connecting with is a person first before being a refugee or female or Somalian or an alcoholic. Mukesha hopes to plant seeds that change perspectives on preconceived notions and show these students, that we must understand the complexity of everyone, and avoid believing there is a single story. (audio below)

“I remind the students that this won’t be the last time you are at a crossroads with someone who has been marginalized. What do you want to do? No one is voiceless – some people’s voices aren’t being listened to. I tell students to be the voice that will amplify.”

Future

Mukesha regrets how she and her siblings used to complain to their parents about the life they had growing up. She knows now how much they gave up for them. Mukesha is happy that her parents aren’t merely trying to survive today. She knows that they don’t have their ideal jobs, but they do have a home and a car, and they are safe. In the future, Mukesha would like to pursue a college degree in the USA, since employers in the US don’t recognize her degree from South Africa. She dreams of making a film or writing a book about “third culture kids”.

“Besides the stuff that is on the surface, there is so much more. When you are a young refugee, growing up in a culture that is not yours, you are sometimes delusional to reality because your parents shelter you. I want to write a book about the difficulties of being a ‘third culture kid’. I want to explore the trauma of being a young kid, moving from one culture to another and how it affects you into adulthood.”

Other than that she wouldn’t mind becoming “rich and famous”!

Amplified Voices

Mukesha wants to continue trying to amplify the voices of people being persecuted and advocating for Louisville, and Kentucky at large, to be welcoming to refugees and immigrants [see the above photo of her discussing this with the mayor of Lousiville]. 

“I want to be the voice that is going to amplify the voice of that refugee girl sitting in a refugee camp, thinking she is never going to leave. Your circumstances don’t necessarily determine your future.”

*Update: Since the interview, Mukesha decided to take the leap of faith and go back to university as a full-time student. She is currently pursuing a bachelor’s degree in Organizational Leadership and Learning at U of Louisville. She is still at Crossroads Ministry, but as a part-time retreat associate, so she can focus on her academics.

#FINDINGAMERICAN

To receive updates on the book release and exhibition of “Finding American: Stories of Immigration from all 50 States” please subscribe here. This project is a labor of love and passion. If you would like to support its continuation, it would be greatly appreciated!

© Photos and text by Colin Boyd Shafer | Edited by Janice May & Kate Kamo McHugh. Quotes edited for clarity and brevity.

Winnie’s Immigration Story – Nairobi, Kenya to Twin Falls, Idaho

Childhood

Winnie grew up in Meru, Kenya – a town by the river. She was the fifth child in her family.

Above: Winnie holding a photo of herself as a baby.

“Meru was a place where everybody knew each other. I would walk to school. There was no such thing as ‘helicopter moms’ back then!”

Her father grew sugar cane and had fruit orchards. She remembers climbing the mango and avocado trees and then going down to the river to eat fruit and chew on sugar cane.

 “I would stay there and eat until I was in a fruit coma!”

There was this specific tree; Winnie can’t remember the name of the species, that would emit this natural perfume you would smell while walking at night. She cherishes her memories of the sound of crickets and how there was a type of bird with a call that served as an alarm. When it sang, it meant that night had arrived, and all the kids knew it was time to return home.

Family

Over the years, aside from her four biological siblings, she had just as many adopted siblings. She explains how adoption in Kenya isn’t as formal as it is in America, and it often involves taking in family members’ children. For example, when Winnie’s aunt died, they took in her three children. For Winnie, having her cousins transition to being her siblings was quite natural.

Winnie’s parents were always supportive of her and her siblings.

“Our parents were always there for us. They made sure we went to a private school to get the best education. I took it for granted, but they made sure we knew not everyone could get this kind of education.”

They were also strict and didn’t put up with any bad behavior.

Audio: Winnie describing the inappropriate sounds you didn’t want to make as a child

Winnie’s father was one of the first people to be paid by the government to study at university after Kenya gained its independence in 1963. In Kenya, where “livestock is money,” he became a surgical veterinarian. Winnie’s father cared a lot about his children’s grades and would punish or reward them accordingly.

“If you fail, you know, you should be shaking in your boots. If you get an A, you get money in your account.”  

Idaho

Winnie’s older sister Jackie applied to Idaho State University as a joke, thinking she would never get in. However, the school accepted her, and the family came together and started fundraising so she could go.

While studying in the US, Jackie found Shriners Hospital, a place where their other sister Mary, who suffers from Blount Disease (a growth disorder of the shin bone), could get help as a case study. Mary and Winnie’s mother came first, and then the rest of the kids followed. Winnie’s father stayed in Kenya, unable to leave his land behind. At the age of 16, Winnie started high school in Blackfoot, Idaho.

Adjusting

Winnie remembers feeling impressed by the cafeteria’s french fries and nuggets; something she thought of as a real treat. She also couldn’t understand why she would need to shave her legs. “I loved my beautiful leg hairs!” The other children asked her many strange questions like, “Do you wear clothes in Africa”? She played along, telling her peers that they wear coconut leaves on their boobs.  

“It’s not that they are bad questions. It is just that they don’t know.” (audio below)

She had never contemplated going on a date while she was in Kenya, but in America it was normal.

 “In Kenya, if you were going to see a boy, that meant he was your future husband. Once in America, I went on so many ‘ice cream dates’”.

Winnie was one of only three Black people in her high school and the only African. She started embracing her “blackness.”

“I felt Black, not African. I felt Black.” (audio below)

Winnie thinks the best decision she made in high school was joining the debate team. It helped mold her into who she is today. It was through debating that she embraced her accent and speaking in front of a crowd.

Knowledge

In high school, Winnie started addressing some of her classmates’ ignorance and confusion about Africa. She would cook them African food and try her best to correct their misconceptions. In college, this practice formalized when she joined the African Students Association of Idaho State U (founded in 1994 by her sister). Winnie was excited to be around other Africans, organizing dances, meals, poetry nights, fashion shows, and speaker events. Before she graduated, Winnie became the president of the ASA.

Meeting Antone

Antone first saw Winnie in the student union at Idaho State University. She had just bought a caramel apple, and a group of guys whistled at her.

“They whistled. I bit my apple and shook my head at them. He noticed that.”

Antone introduced himself, and Winnie remembers him offering her his sandwich.

“He shared a peanut butter sandwich, and it was the best I’ve ever had.”

Marriage

In the beginning, Winnie hid their relationship from her family and her friends. Her father has a stigma of interracial marriages, saying they are more prone to divorce. She could hear her father: 

“You better not marry a white man. Don’t bring shame to our family.” 

This didn’t stop Winnie from marrying Antone, and despite his views, Winnie’s father [in the above photo] came to the wedding. 

“I cried and I got him a brand new suit.”

They had an African wedding in Idaho with 300 people, including lots of food and dancing. They did the traditional “money dance,” where Winnie danced with a basket on her head where people placed money. It was a style of wedding that many of the attendees hadn’t experienced before. 

“Our wedding traumatized a lot of Idahoans!”

Twin Falls

Winnie ended up in Twin Falls in 2012 to be with Antone and start their family together.

Above: One of Winnie’s creations from the ceramics class

Adjusting to life in Twin Falls was hard for Winnie. It wasn’t until she took a ceramics class with some elders from the community, and started volunteering at the local refugee center, that she began to feel at home. 

To the best of her knowledge, Winnie is one of only two Kenyans living in Twin Falls.

“I feel like a pioneer – a Kenyan pioneer.”

The refugee population, specifically from Africa, is growing in Twin Falls, one of two cities in Idaho with refugee resettlement programs. 

Miss Africa Idaho

In 2014, Winnie started organizing the Miss Africa Idaho Pageant. Unlike many pageants, this doesn’t involve bikinis – the contestants exhibit traditional outfits and talents. They also need to identify a change they are making in their local Idaho community, as well as in the African country they represent.

“This pageaent is the most fun way in which I can see people learning about the continent without attending lectures.”

More than half of the pageant contestants came to the USA as refugees. Recently there has been a backlash against refugees in Idaho, but the pageant community, in general, has received Miss Africa Idaho very well. If the pageant ever gets any negative press, Winnie is quick to invite her critics to come and experience it first hand by offering them free tickets.

American Kids, African Roots

Winnie admits that it is challenging raising “American kids,” especially with regards to discipline. Growing up her parents showed her “tough love, never timeouts in the corner.  She hopes that her kids will appreciate their African roots, and to remind them of this, they all have a middle name meaning “warrior.” 

“I would love for them to learn Swahili, so I have put stickers on everything. They know a bit. When people from Africa come to visit and see that kids are not fluent, I feel ashamed. If they don’t know how to speak Swahili, I will feel like a failure as an African mom.”

Cultural Ambassador

Winnie often speaks to the local community about Africa. For career day at her son’s school, she cooked puff puffs [see photo above], brought different African artifacts for the children to explore, and told them about the pageant she organizes.

“We have black princesses and queens in Idaho!”

Audio: Explaining how women in Kenya carry their babies and offering to let the kids try [ see above photo ]

Winnie hopes she can keep doing the cultural education work she is doing in Idaho, and even train others to be cultural ambassadors.

“I hope there will be more acceptance of diversity. I want people to be less ignorant about Africa and Africans. Africa is not a country; it is a continent. I want people to know this. Each country has more than 20 languages and more than 40 tribes.” (audio below)

Future

She dreams of one day building a school – maybe even one attached to a sustainable dairy farm since Idahoans are pioneers in dairy farming. 

“I do have privilege. I want to share and recognize it; share and give back.”

Winnie plans on returning to Kenya soon. She hasn’t been back since she left at 16. 

“The first thing I will do is I will pig out. Sit down on this big rock, dangle my feet in the water and chew on sugar cane.”

*Update: Since the interview, Winnie had a new baby boy (also with a middle name which means “warrior). She has also started her non-profit called Culture for Change Foundation and created the Urban Cultural Fashion Show which features the work of Idaho designers.

#FINDINGAMERICAN

To receive updates on the book release and exhibition of “Finding American: Stories of Immigration from all 50 States” please subscribe here. This project is a labor of love and passion. If you would like to support its continuation, it would be greatly appreciated!

© Photos and text by Colin Boyd Shafer | Edited by Janice May & Kate Kamo McHugh. Quotes are edited for clarity and brevity.

Moon’s Immigration Story – Addis Ababa, Ethiopia to Portland, Maine

Parents

Moon’s father had been a soldier in Sudan since the age of 12 and ended up in Ethiopia after escaping the Second Sudanese Civil War. He met Moon’s mother, Fetelwork, in 1984, while she worked at the camps as a translator for the UN. Fetelwork knew nothing about Sudanese people and felt scared when she found out that he liked her. He was persistent, bringing her tea and cookies and always asking her for help with his homework. Then he invited her over to his house. The first night she stayed there, she hid under the bed out of fear that he may eat her. In 1990 they married.

Life in Ethiopia was never easy for Fetelwork and her husband.

In Ethiopia you have to struggle for your life.”

Moon

Moon was born in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia. Growing up, her father called her “Cow Eyes,” saying that her eyes were way too big for her head.

“I remember herding sheep in the hills. I remember hearing hyenas laughing outside at night.”

Moon is the middle child in the family. According to her mother, Moon was more independent and mischievous than her other seven children. To have quiet when visiting Grandma, they would tie Moon by bedsheet to a table leg. Only then, Fetelwork recalls, could they drink coffee peacefully.

Moon’s parents’ common language is English, so Moon picked up a little bit before coming to the United States. According to Moon’s mother, the fact that Moon’s father is a Sudanese refugee helped their case for being formally resettled to the United States.

Maine

Moon, at four years of age, didn’t understand why her family was leaving the refugee camp. She had just planted this little watermelon plant, and they were ripping her away from it. She was excited to watch it grow, and now she couldn’t. (audio below)

In 1995 when her family arrived in Maine, Moon remembers how it may have been cold outside but the local community made her feel warm. It was a time when there was a massive influx of immigrants and refugees moving to the state. Maine’s population is 98% white, and in general, the white Mainers approached these newcomers with curiosity, not stigma. Still, it didn’t take long for Moon to experience racism.

“I remember when they called me ‘nigger’. I didn’t know what that word meant.” (audio below)

Family

Understanding her family’s history has always been of great importance to Moon. Growing up, her father would always quiz her about their family tree, making sure she never forgot where her people came from. (audio below) 

Moon still feels most comfortable in her mom’s kitchen. The smell of incense and familiar foods, bring her peace.

“If my mom is making coffee, it means everything is okay.” 

In the Portland neighborhood, where Moon’s mother lives, she is famous for her popcorn. All the kids in the area come by regularly to taste this simple secret recipe she takes pride in. (audio below)

Survivor

Moon works in youth advocacy and is passionate about empowering peoples’ voices that aren’t being heard. As a survivor of abuse herself, she wants to protect others from losing their innocence.

I feel like all of humanity is sick.” (audio below)

Powerful

Moon found the stigma she faced in her own community, as a survivor of abuse, to be debilitating. This is why she became obsessed with getting strong physically and joined the national guard for four years – trying to show that women can be strong. Her father encouraged Moon to have a voice – always bringing her with him to important meetings with elders in their community.

“I think that women will be the ones that bring back healing. My father always told me to be better than the boys. A woman can stand in a man’s presence and be as strong as she wants to be and even surpass a man. (audio below)

Moon and her colleague Patricia (above) are trying to put together a new social enterprise organization focused on “kindness projects” to empower women. She hopes it will eventually lead her to help specifically with women in South Sudan.

Spoken Word

Moon likes to express herself in spoken word. When she was going through a period of depression, she found it lifted after she wrote her poem, Have you seen my Son? (audio below)

Moon feels like immigrants, in general, are misunderstood and vilified. She thinks it’s important to put faces and stories to who they are and for Americans to learn about what happened in these peoples’ homelands that caused them to move.

“I want to empower others like me to rise above all stigma placed against us. I want to show them that an African girl can speak on prestigious platforms and that conformity isn’t a transition plan we are willing to accept in this country. America was built on the foundation of being a new land of dreams and opportunity, and I should not feel ashamed for asking for the freedom and opportunity offered to everyone else. I love to tell my story, because past being an immigrant, I’m just a passionate human.” (audio below)

Home

Moon feels like the warmth she felt upon arriving in Maine is thinning with the current administration.

“I often find it strange that the place I know most as ‘home’ isn’t a place that necessarily sees my presence as a positive addition.”

Still, Moon’s commitment to her community is unstoppable.

Goals

Moon’s family lost their whole suitcase when moving from Ethiopia to the United States.

“We literally landed here and had nothing.”

She knows what it is like to lose everything, and that’s why her goals and how she will measure her success is more focused on relationships than tangible things.

“I always say I would be happy living in a hut. I constantly make sure that my end goal is nothing materialistic.” (audio below)

#FINDINGAMERICAN

To receive updates on the book release and exhibition of “Finding American: Stories of Immigration from all 50 States” please subscribe here. This project is a labor of love and passion. If you would like to support its continuation, it would be greatly appreciated!

© Photos and text by Colin Boyd Shafer | Edited by Janice May & Kate Kamo McHugh. Quotes edited for clarity and brevity.