Cristiana’s Immigration Story – Slatina, Romania to NYC, New York

Childhood

“You hear all these stories of Roma – commonly but problematically called ‘gypsies’- moving, traveling, wearing colorful clothes, having long hair, and other romantic fantasies about the ‘gypsy’ lifestyle. Thinking about my childhood, it could not be farther from the truth.” (audio below)

Cristiana was born in Slatina, a small town where there wasn’t much for a child to do. There was one main factory in town that produced aluminum that employed her father his entire working life. This factory was their family’s financial security and stability. Whenever you drove into the town, you would see a dark cloud of smoke coming from the factory. Reflecting on the pollution, it doesn’t surprise Cristiana that as a child, she always had problems with her lungs.

Cristiana’s mom married her father when she was 16. They met riding the bus that went to the town’s only cinema. Mistakenly she thought she knew him, so she started talking to him. He played along. Eventually, she realized he wasn’t who she thought he was, but by that point, she actually was starting to like him. Cristiana’s mother still jokes with her husband – “You are not the man you said you were!”

Cristiana’s mother’s childhood was short. On her way home from her very first day of school, she was in a horrible car accident. After recovering from being in a coma, she returned to school at the insistence of a teacher who believed in her potential. The teacher had the best intentions – to get an intelligent and curious child back on track – but her classmates were already too far ahead. Then when she was a teenager, her mother (Cristiana’s grandmother) was sick with cancer, so there was no chance for her to fully focus on her education or career. After growing up with such complex challenges, she wanted Cristiana and her brother to have a playful and carefree childhood with access to the best education, something she dreamed of but never had.

Grandparents

Cristiana’s paternal grandparents’ village, Balteni, was two train stops away. Traditionally, the youngest son (Cristiana’s father) stays in the village and takes care of his parents. Cristiana’s mother challenged this norm and insisted her family live in Slatina so that Cristiana could go to school. Every weekend or holiday, they would visit her grandparents as a compromise.

Cristiana remembers one spring she went to pick flowers with her grandma. They found snowdrops growing, removed them with the roots, and replanted them in grandma’s garden. The following spring, the flowers emerged from under the snow and just kept growing. Cristiana’s parents live on the property now, and she always asks them how her snowdrops are doing. Recently, Cristiana’s mother pressed a few and sent them to her by mail [see the photo above]. (audio below)

Cristiana’s grandparents were very active in their community. Despite the “invisible wall” that existed between Roma and non-Roma in their village, they were at the highest place a Roma could be in the local societal hierarchy – somewhere between tolerated and respected. Her grandfather was a respected blacksmith. His non-Roma neighbors would happily work with him, but they wouldn’t want any of their children to marry any of his children. The land he owned and the houses he built made Cristiana’s grandfather proud- a pride she couldn’t understand as a child. He would always say, “I bought the corner of the village.” As a kid, Cristiana would roll her eyes and say, “oh, grandpa is talking again about all the things he’s accomplished.”

“When I came to terms with my Roma identity, I started to see how Roma live life and the instability they have and how transient some of their lives are. I started to understand why my grandfather was so proud. For him, space, land, and belonging were incredibly important. I took that for granted as a kid.” (audio below)

Priviledged & Roma

“On one hand, I had a story of being Roma – working-class on the edge of society – and yet my story is one of incredible privilege and support from family.” (audio below)

Cristiana feels like she grew up very privileged in an underprivileged family. Her parents worked so hard and had little money, yet they never asked Cristiana for any help – they only wanted her to focus on her studies. She didn’t even have to do many of the chores other kids her age were doing, like taking out the garbage or washing the dishes. In high school, her parents spent the majority of their incomes (and even took out a loan), so Cristiana could be privately tutored. They didn’t want the limitations of their class to affect their daughter’s chance for success. 

Cristiana’s mom worked as a cleaner near Cristiana’s school so she could be close to Cristiana and her younger brother – dropping them off, picking them up, cooking for them. She did this throughout Cristiana’s schooling. Cristiana remembers how that embarrassed her at the time – that her mother didn’t have a “profession,” her classmates’ mothers. When she looks back now, she feels so proud of her mother.

“She was this gorgeous young woman who didn’t care about how it looked on the outside. She found a pragmatic way to make sure we went to good schools and financially contributed to the family.” (audio below)

Her father has a darker complexion and looks more Roma. To protect her identity, only Cristiana’s mother picked her up from school. (audio below)

“I heard stories of her going to the hair salon, with me along, and the ladies there said, ‘Your daughter is so beautifully suntanned. How long did you spend at the seaside?’ They couldn’t imagine that we were Roma.”

Hidden Identity

Cristiana didn’t have many friends growing up, primarily because she didn’t want her classmates to know she was Roma. She never invited anyone home to play in her small apartment.

“You learn how to keep a family secret in order to fit in. I did fear that I would treated badly as a Roma, but I found coping mechanisms – never inviting kids home and separating my school life from my family life. As a kid, you want to fit in, and you do everything you can to be accepted by others. Looking back, it is just so heartbreaking.” (audio below)

Hiding her true identity was challenging, but it allowed Cristiana to go to school without facing daily discrimination. It was an isolated existence but she wasn’t the type of person to get bored. She had a great imagination and spent a lot of time reading stories and dreaming. 

She figures that by high school, her two best friends had figured it out. They saw how she never invited them over, and they had the wisdom not to ask questions. Instead, they would invite her to their homes.

I never saw Roma women on television who are considered smart and confident and beautiful – who are acknowledged for who they are and their skin color is not a problem, so I always hoped nobody would notice it.” (audio below)

Cristiana’s parents always made sure her hair was short [see the above photo], so society wouldn’t think she was Roma. Her mother dressed her in greys and browns, never anything colorful. Her mother wanted her to look as far as possible from “the stereotype of a flashy gypsy with shiny clothes and long hair.” Cristiana hated her hair being so short. She remembers a doctor joking with her once, how if she didn’t have earrings on, he would have thought she was a boy. 

“I was this dark skinny kid with very short hair. Being beautiful was the last thing that crossed my mind. I was just hoping nobody would hold it against me that I was ugly. Nothing about me was girlish. It was hard.” (audio below)

Discrimination

Despite doing her best to hide her true identity to avoid discrimination, it did happen. She only remembers a couple of instances. At the end of first grade, she received an award for having the best grades in the class. 

“After the celebration, one of my classmates’ parents went to my teacher and said, ‘how can you give the best award to a gypsy girl?’ The teacher said she deserved it – she had the best grades. It was the last time I had the best.” (audio below)

After this, Cristiana always made sure never to be the best. “It was a trade-off – a compromise between being accepted and excelling.” Now, these memories enrage her. 

Confidence

By the sixth grade, Cristiana started to grow her hair longer with bangs, and a few classmates commented that she looked like Cleopatra. 

“It was the first time that I felt powerful and beautiful.”

When she was 15, a photographer in her town approached her and asked if he could photograph her – telling her she would look beautiful in his photos. She looked at some of the other models he had shot and couldn’t understand why he wanted to photograph her. She thought it was a joke. 

“When I saw the first photos printed, I didn’t recognize myself. That was the beginning of me feeling more confident and seeing myself in a new light. “ 

In retrospect, Cristiana is happy she didn’t spend her youth worrying about clothes or hair. It allowed her to focus on other “more substantial profound things.” 

“I feel comfortable with this ugly duckling story.”

United States

Cristiana’s first trip to the US was in 2006 at the end of her third year of college as part of a summer student program. She was 22, it was her first time abroad, and she was going to work at a fancy country club in Maryland. She admits it sounds cheesy, but “it was like a script from a Hollywood movie. I had the right people at the right moments, who were open and receptive and kind. I was like Alice in Wonderland”. 

The country club decided they had too many summer students, and Cristiana needed another job. Luckily, Steve, this Italian American manager at a restaurant in Baltimore, came to her rescue. He found her a friend’s empty house to live in, two part-time jobs, and he even invited her to an Italian wedding. 

“It made me feel like I belong in a way I had never felt before. The support and care and kindness I met in the US gave me the energy and strength and inspiration to go through the process.

This overwhelmingly positive experience in Maryland gave her confidence to explore her identity as a Roma. 

“It was eye-opening, and at the end of that summer, forced by circumstances, I talked about my Roma identity for the first time. The beginning of this journey of trying to understand for me what it means to be Roma, understand the Roma people and see where I fit in. It’s hard redefining who you are and exploring a part of your life you avoided for so long.

Cristiana returned to Romania, opened her computer, and started researching – “who are the ‘gypsy’ people”?

Cristiana felt inspired like never before to make a difference in Romania and the world. While finishing her psychology degree, she started an organization to help youth employability and soft skills. Still, the focus wasn’t explicitly on the Roma; it was a mainstream initiative for Romania.

As she contemplated her next steps academically, she had to continually fight with her grandfather’s voice in her head – “Have you ever seen a gypsy who was a teacher or a lawyer or a professor?” (audio below)

Academia

Cristiana wasn’t going to let stereotypes stop her. In 2009, she received a Fulbright scholarship and went on to earn a Master of Education Policy at Vanderbilt University. It was a real immersive liberal arts experience – writing articles in the newspaper, taking electives in film studies, and she even started taking ballet.

“Ballet has been the most incredible discovery for me on a personal level. I used to say I hope my future children will not deal with the challenges I dealt with, and they will do ballet. There was a moment at 26 when I realized I was talking about myself. It permitted me to do the thing I only dreamed of as a child.” 

Above: Economist and Philosopher Amartya Sen, a mentor and inspiration, who has helped Cristiana greatly in her academic career

Her professors at Vanderbilt were encouraging when it came to her exploring her Roma identity.

“Being Roma went from being a complete secret to being a big part of my life. Once I take responsibility for something, I am a car without a brake.”

Cristiana wanted to add research to what she already knew through lived experience as a person from the Roma community. The more she researched, the more she realized there aren’t many books about her community. There also aren’t many Roma who have had the academic experiences she has had, and some Roma who are academics aren’t “public” about being Roma. Cristiana believes that “being vocal about being Roma is exceptional,” and she hopes this changes.

Roma Peoples Project

After graduating from Vanderbilt, Columbia University accepted Cristiana to continue her research on the Roma. She saw how researching the Roma could shed light on the experiences of other minority groups. 

“It is a time right now in the US and world where more and more minority groups are coming to terms with who they are and struggling to understand their place in the world.”

Columbia has had Roma students, but they’ve never had a project on Roma issues. In 2017, Cristiana launched the Roma Peoples Project, which operates under the Centre for Justice. The project aims to start a dialogue at Columbia and in society at large about the Roma people. 

“It was my personal search and desire to understand a complex identity that is not yet explored or understood. I want to do this work because I know how fortunate I have been.”

The project involves collecting materials on the Roma and creating a centralized digital archive, as well as highlighting the stories of people who are Roma.

“People are amazed that there are 12 million people who are Roma, and we know so little about them in academia. Then there are other people who know about the Roma but have never had a space to share these stories.” (audio below)

In her work, Cristiana discovered that a lecturer at Columbia, Dana Neacsu [see the photo above], created one of the first annotated bibliographies on the Roma people.

“I keep discovering people interested in the subject who already worked on this topic, but there hasn’t been a space to bring us all together.”

Cristiana still dreams of Romania. Every summer, her grandparents cultivated potatoes, and other vegetables. She loved it when they asked her to go out look for them – like a treasure hunt. In NYC, Cristiana lives close to the Metropolitan Museum of Art and regularly walks around the great lawn to look at the various objects. Once, she had a dream that brought these two very different places together.

“I was in their village in the potato garden, but instead of finding potatoes, I was finding art objects from the Metropolitan Museum of Art! What does this mean? The way I interpret it is that these two worlds have mixed. Maybe the next dream will be about finding potatoes instead of art objects here?” (audio below)

Hopes & Dreams

Cristiana hopes her project will create a space for Roma to express themselves that is not tied to geographical location, especially since the Roma people are so dispersed. 

“We are a global people by definition. We have a multicultural identity, and live in so many parts of the world – mobility and a more fluid relationship with cultures are at the core of how this identity has been shaped for centuries. I hope that we will understand that there is a diversity of ways that you experience this Roma identity. That’s the beauty of it. What it means for me to be Roma is different than what it means for others.”

She wants to inspire other Roma, who may be struggling with their identity, to become more vocal about it. Together, they can redefine what it means to be Roma.

“There are many incredibly successful and talented people who are Roma, and by speaking with their customers, students, and friends about being Roma, they could shatter stereotypes.”

Cristiana hopes that other universities will create projects and institutes associated with Roma Studies, not just for the sake of the Roma community, but as a way of understanding marginalization, displacement, and migration in general. 

“The Roma have been permanent refugees in Europe for over a thousand years. If we can understand the condition of Roma, and people who have survived without a country for so long, we can understand the modern condition. To deal better with a world that is faced with more displaced people and refugees. There is a richness of information that can be explored beyond ways in which it can contribute to Roma people.” (audio below)

Cristiana is working hard so a new generation of Roma will grow up confident, with a strong sense of who they are and with role models who have a variety of professions.

#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 have been edited for clarity and brevity.

Phanat’s Immigration Story – Phanat Nikhom Refugee Camp, Thailand to New Iberia, Louisiana

Phanat’s parents met in Laos during the 1970s. They were both working for a French colonial family – Phanat’s mother was their servant, and his father was their security guard. After the Vietnam War, they fled from Laos to Thailand, out of fear of political persecution. His father left first, crossing the Mekong river at night, and his mother followed weeks later. 

Phanat Nikhom Refugee Camp

They had Phanat’s brother, sister, and then in 1981, Phanat was born in the Phanat Nikhom Refugee Camp. Six months before his birth, his parents’ resettlement to the US was approved. The family would be going to Louisiana, where Catholic organizations were helping resettle refugees, and the state had an abundance of available low-wage jobs. 

Louisiana

The family arrived in New Iberia in 1983, the largest city in Louisiana’s Iberia Parish. They lived in a three-bedroom trailer with a total of 11 people from three different families.

“We didn’t have a bed to sleep on. My mom found a mattress on the side of the road and pulled it into the trailer.” (audio below)

Survival for Phanat’s parents in this new country with three children and no money was hard. Their first job was sorting potatoes into cans and making $1.80 per hour. They also peeled crawfish and shucked oysters. He remembers his family members always smelling like seafood.

Everyone in their family had an economic function.

“If you existed and you were eating, you needed to do something.” 

Most of Phanat’s life has been within a three-block radius of New Iberia. Growing up, Phanat felt like he was living simultaneously in two different worlds; no one at home would be able to explain the “American” things he was learning at school, and no one at school understood his culture at home. 

“I had to figure a lot out on my own, since I spoke a different language, had different food, and different music. I grew up having to be very adaptable to every situation.” (audio below)

Above: Wat Thammarattanaram Buddhist Temple in Iberia Parish

Lao Community

Many families from Iberia Parish’s Lao community that arrived in the 1970s and 1980s have had similar experiences to Phanat’s. The region had federal training programs that targeted immigrant men to work in the oil fields and women in the textile industry. Because many of these immigrant families had dual-income households, they quickly elevated to a higher socioeconomic position within the community. This success, in turn, led to a lot of xenophobia and resentment from locals.

“Americans were used to a certain way of going about work. These immigrants came in, worked hard, did not take breaks, and that was threatening.” 

The Lao community has been somewhat insular and isolated in Iberia Parish – forming their own community ties to sustain their customs and traditions. Phanat believes the downside is that they have missed out on participation in local government and culture. As Phanat grew older he started to see himself as a connector between the Laos community and the other Louisianans.

Asia Market

Phanat’s mother always had an entrepreneurial spirit. She quit school after second grade in Laos to grow and sell vegetables at the market. After arriving in Louisiana and working in factories, she longed for a job where she could work for herself. She saw how many other Asian people were coming in Iberia Parish and looking for commodities they missed from Asia. Phanat’s mother opened her market in 1985, and offered many things from Asian movies to staple foods like rice, to small loans to help others start their own small businesses. She also started an urban garden in their backyard, growing Asian produce to sell at the store.

“The store became a mecca of Southeast Asian culture. There was an economy that was independent of the mainstream economy that was built in the Asian community.” (audio below)

Phanat has always had a lot of creative energy, and being the youngest child allowed him some space to explore this side. His brother, as the oldest boy, had obligations to provide for the family, whereas Phanat had the “freedom to dream wildly.” (audio below)

When it came time for university, Phanat decided to become an architect. He thought it was a career that would “balance the pragmatic side of his Asian roots and his creative side.” He went on to study at the University of Louisiana and then went to Columbia University in New York City to study Urban Design. Phanat knows he could have gone anywhere in the world with his degrees, but he wanted to move back to New Iberia and help return the city to its vibrant past.

Above: A painting of Bunk Johnson, Louisiana’s prominent jazz trumpeter, on the side of Phanat’s Da Berry Fresh Market.

“I was learning all these great things, but my mind always went back to New Iberia. Why couldn’t this happen in New Iberia – wonderful architecture or a beautiful park?”

Audio: Phanat discussing New Iberia’s vibrant past and his decision to return to help revitalize the area

Returning Home

After a decade of being away, Phanat returned to New Iberia in 2010. Within a year, he started Envision da Berry, an organization focused on local creative and artistic activities that open dialogue on how best to improve the cultural and economic development within Iberia Parish. He targeted five core areas to improve – art, culture, economy, transportation, and health and wellness. 

“I knew I had minimal resources, but I could get paint and do something impactful and get people to have conversations.”

His first local art installation in 2011 was a temporary public space piece – ‘tactical urbanism.’ He collected a group of residents, picked a street, put up planters, and installed street furniture [see his plan in the above photo].

“Let’s imagine our neighborhood the way we want to see it in a few years, but do it in a temporary low budget way. My art is ephemeral, very in the moment. It takes into consideration where the community is at. It pulls from the community in the way that it manifests itself – whether through PVC pipes, or me singing in a pop-up gay show tunes bar.”

Community Garden

Phanat could see the need for fresh produce in the community – a community that lacked healthy food options. In 2013 he expanded on the garden his mother had started when he was a little boy, and the Iberia Community Garden Co-Op was born. It is a community-supported urban food farm focused on pesticide-free, bio-dynamic, and space-intensive food growing practices.

The garden has been this amazing thing in this community. It has become an obsession of mine and from it have found such peace and serenity.”

Above: A small community garden Phanat built in the middle of public housing

Aside from the community garden, Phanat has his personal garden, where he retreats for meditation and hopes to spend more time there in the future. He found himself involved in too many projects, stressed, and unable to express himself creatively. This garden is a place where he has complete control. 

I think gardening is communion with nature. When you plant a seed in the ground you can’t rush that. You can’t rush a pepper plant growing. What I do with my meditation is to get my mind to move at the same pace as nature. At harmony, at peace with everything in the universe.” (audio below)

Brother

Phanat and his older brother Saysane live together in the old family house. A year before Phanat moved back to New Iberia, his brother’s kidneys were failing, so he had to go on dialysis. He is on a waitlist for a new kidney. If he doesn’t get an organ soon, Phanat plans on giving him his. 

Growing up, his brother played all kinds of sports, and he always looked very healthy. However, his brother, like many people in the community, never ate healthily. He would eat the same things that so many people in this community eat that cause high blood pressure, heart disease, and diabetes. Phanat mentions how Louisiana is ranked 49th in terms of the health of the state’s population.

“It is the poor eating habits of poor people. – a box of fried chicken and a gallon of soda. When I drop him off at dialysis treatment, the majority of people there are poor black people. This is why I see the importance of the garden and our effort to bring fresh produce to the community.”

Building Bridges

When Phanat moved back to New Iberia, he knew that he was going to be true to himself as a socially liberal, progressive, gay, Lao Buddhist immigrant. He also expected himself to be at odds with the greater community, which is predominantly African American and either Catholic or Baptist. 

As time went on, Phanat built up trust with the community. In 2018 he got a call from the minister at the Star Pilgrim Baptist Church, a 149-year-old African American church. He told Phanat that the church would like to honor him with the “Pacesetter’s Award” as part of their black history program. Phanat responded, ‘You do know I’m gay, Asian and Buddhist, right?’

 “I never would have thought that an African American Baptist church would honor me with anything!” (audio below)

Receiving this award was one of Phanat’s proudest moments. He saw it as representative of a paradigm shift happening in the community, celebrating people no matter where they are from, how they pray or who they love.

Fresh Market

Phanat’s most recent project in New Iberia is Da Berry Fresh Market, which opened in 2017. It’s a combination of a fresh produce market and a job training program for the local community. At the market, you can find fresh produce from the community gardens. 

Phanat has passed the torch of managing the market to Carl, a young man from Mississippi. Carl used to work full-time in the oil fields while attending college at night. His diet was horrible. One day an elder mentioned to Carl that he wasn’t taking care of himself, and that planted a seed. Since then, Carl stopped drinking soda, eating candy, and getting fast food. He’s fully invested in being healthy – growing his own plants, buying organic, and exercising regularly.  

“I never would have imagined that my life would have changed that much from my diet.”

Carl feels more spiritually connected – like Da Berry Fresh Market is part of his calling. He respects Phanat for starting it and sharing his knowledge. Carl thinks the local African American community is kept in a “condition of disease” from the unhealthy food they eat. He hopes the market can help change this by creating, “a community, surrounded by people of African American descent who all learn and heal together.” (audio below)

Most of the work Phanat has been doing since moving back to New Iberia in 2010 has been for free. He has been widely recognized for all of his accomplishments, but as he says, “all these awards don’t come with a check!”

Above: Phanat after a meal at Brenda’s Diner, a favorite local restaurant.

Future

When Phanat returned to New Iberia, he committed to a “ten-year plan” to improve the community. It’s incredible how much Phanat has done since returning. As the decade comes to a close, Phanat wants to take more time for himself and spend more time on his personal garden. It is clear that no matter what Phanat does in the future, it will be creative and have a positive effect on New Iberia’s community.

*Update: Phanat’s brother Saysane passed away on April 7th, 2020 after a long fight with kidney disease, and complications from a very rare blood cell condition.

#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.

Ihab’s Immigration Story – Basra, Iraq to Harrisonburg, Virginia

Ihab is the son of a Jordanian father and an Iraqi mother. His paternal family – the Sadoons – have historically been bedouins distributed between Jordan, Iraq, Saudi Arabia, and Kuwait. His father was an orphan, living in a society that did not welcome his people. Despite this, at age 18, Ihab’s father was accepted to study medicine at Johns Hopkins and Columbia University.

War

The family was living in Iraq when Ihab was born in 1979, because of the war and the country’s need for doctors. They would move from one place to another, depending on what hospital needed his father the most. For the first ten years of his life, he and his three siblings grew up surrounded by war.

“I remember our house was hit once with a bomb. I remember packing so many times – packing our stuff and going from one place to another. And I remember losing my friends. We didn’t live more than two or three years in one place – we kept moving, which was very frustrating – it just became so much harder for me to make friends. It’s not worth it to make friends, then lose them in a year or two. We had to leave so many places.” (audio below)

Dentistry

In the 1990s, the economy was failing in Iraq, so the family moved to Jordan, and that’s where Ihab attended university to become a dentist. In 2007 he was accepted to NYU’s graduate program in implant surgery. He did an internship in Maryland and a residency at Columbia University in NYC. Ihab planned on returning to the Middle East, but with the Arab Spring happening, and his daughter in the US, he decided to stay. 

While away from his region of birth, Ihab keeps letters from his late father and his sister close to his heart.

“Every time I feel bad, I open these letters. I start reading and feel good. My dad always reminded me that I came here for a reason – ‘don’t waste your time; do not forget that there are lots of people that are waiting to be helped by you. Always be kind to others. Don’t forget me.’”

Other than his father, he has always been close to his younger sister. Ihab cherishes a letter she wrote saying how much she loves him and can’t wait to travel with him.

“I was having a tough time with my marriage, and my sister always tried to say positive things and remind me to focus on my daughter.”

While living in New York, Ihab became very interested in outdoor activities like hiking, snowboarding, and biking. It was challenging in NYC to get out into nature. This changed in 2013 when he moved to Virginia, which has plentiful and easily accessible outdoor recreation opportunities. 

Harrisonburg

When Ihab first moved to Harrisonburg, Virginia, it didn’t feel like a welcoming community, but that has since changed.

“I feel like Harrisonburg is becoming a good hub for the multicultural community. Once people know you they open their arms, but it takes a while. For the first couple of years, people weren’t welcoming. Locals are not used to foreigners that much. If you go to the countryside where my patients are from, they are not used to accents or different colors.”

Above: A gift Ihab’s daughter made him for the religious holiday Eid

Diversity

At the mosque he attends on Fridays, almost everyone is a refugee. In New York, he was used to meeting people in his community who were highly educated professionals. The Harrisonburg immigrant community is mostly farmers, taxi drivers, and factory workers. He believes this diversity within the community sometimes leads to cultural misunderstandings and has brought both good and bad to Harrisonburg.

“It’s like if you take a guy from West Virginia and dropped him off in India.”

Ihab is trying to get more involved in the Muslim community and local interfaith initiatives, especially after the election in 2016. He is happy that when local churches and synagogues gather, they invite the mosque now.

“We need to show we are part of the community and that we belong.” 

Specialist

Ihab works as a dental surgeon at the hospital, primarily with geriatric patients, as well as covering the emergency room. In New York, he treated a lot of gunshot victims or people in traffic accidents, but here he is doing a lot of extractions.

“It’s not crazy here like it used to be in New York.”

When Ihab first moved to Harrisonburg, a lot of patients were referred to him because of his specialty. Some of them thought he was too young, and that they couldn’t trust him because of his accent and background. He would give these patients their treatment plan, but they would go to someone else for a second opinion – the local “American” doctor who grew up in Virginia. Ihab explains how it was funny because that doctor would usually say, “no, you need to go back to him [Ihab] – he’s the specialist!”

“They tried to run away from the Middle Eastern guy with an accent. Now a lot of those patients don’t want to see anyone but me!” (audio below)

When Ihab goes bow hunting in the countryside, he knows people look at him funny because of his appearance and accent. Today a lot of the locals know him as “The Jordanian.”

“The more time I spend here, the more bond I feel I have with the locals.

Ihab has faced discrimination in Iraq and Jordan, so when he was leaving for the United States, he was worried. However, the country surprised him. The US is the place where he feels most at home.

Daughter

Ihab didn’t plan on becoming a father when he did. At the time of his daughter’s birth, he wasn’t economically stable, and his marriage was already in trouble. He wasn’t sure he even wanted a child.

“To tell you the truth, my daughter is the best thing that ever happened in my life. She protected me from committing suicide. I had lots of pressure in my career and then the divorce. She is the only thing that makes me really happy.” (audio below)

Ihab has his daughter over every other weekend and for most of the summer.

“I wait so passionately for these days. This is my fun time. My daughter does everything I do – we bike together, we kayak together, we climb together. Being a father – I’m so blessed to be that guy. This little thing comes and isn’t planned and becomes the pleasure of your life.”

Father

Ihab hopes to set a good example for his daughter, like how his father did for him.

“My dad was my role model. He was always willing to help people. I just wanted to be like him.”

Ihab’s father came to visit him in Harrisonburg before he passed away in 2016.

“When I lost him, I was in Kenya on a mission trip. I was going to come back for his funeral, but if he were alive, he would have told me to go back and help people. This is what he would like me to do.” (audio below)

“This is a letter my dad sent me before he died. He asked me to open it after he died. He was writing his will. Every week I open and read it. ‘We are all going to die. Do good things and try to be good to family and your patients.’ He was a religious guy, so he wrote, ‘God will always take care of you.’” (audio below)

Travel

Ihab has traveled a lot. He has three passports filled with stamps.  

“Every stamp has a story.”

India is one place that continues to have a lasting impact on Ihab. Even though people have so little materially, they seemed happy. It was shocking. He returned to America, knowing that instead of buying luxury items, that money could feed people in need. He subsequently began to donate to those who are less fortunate, and he buys only what he needs.

 “India changed my lifestyle forever. I try not to be luxurious at all and try my best to remind those around me of this. I want to share this with his daughter.”

Future

Ihab is hopeful for the future. He used to be argumentative and willing to fight. Today, he believes if you speak softly, others will eventually understand you. In response to the current administration’s rhetoric towards Arabs and Muslims, many of Ihab’s patients have reached out with compassion to let Ihab know that they don’t believe what they hear from this administration about his people. They want Ihab to know that the president does not speak for them.

“Lots of immigrants don’t have a life anywhere other than here. They are more American than Americans themselves, because they don’t take it for granted. They are great assets for the American mosaic.”

“Regarding my future – the road is open. Sometimes I think about taking a few years off and going on medical missions. I don’t know what I’m going to do in my life. If I’m here in the US, I will help bridge the gap between the right and left of the aisle.”

Ihab says he doesn’t have many childhood friends because he didn’t live in one place long enough while growing up. This inability to stay put for long has continued into adulthood. Ihab has been in the US for a little over a decade and has already lived in four different states.  

“I am living like a modern bedouin. I get bored and always find an excuse to move. I’m not sure how long I’ll stay in Virginia, but I’m definitely enjoying my life. There is lots of goodness in the people here. They try to be good neighbors.”

#FINDINGAMERICAN

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