immigration

Abi’s Immigration Story – Mexico City, Mexico to New Albany, Mississippi

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Mexico

“I don’t have many memories of Mexico.”

Abi’s memories of life in Mexico are vague – it’s hard to tell what is a memory and what is from the stories her mom has told her. She knows they were poor, and eating from the street vendors was a luxury. This one lady would always come by on a bicycle selling tamales and hot chocolate. Abi would run out to her. The lady would have a huge smile and she never expected Abi to pay her anything – she could see that Abi was poor and hungry. That woman’s kindness, Abi has never forgotten, and it inspired her to want to do good for others too. (audio below)

Abi remembers how close-knit her family was in Mexico and has memories from the day they left. It had been almost two years since they last saw Abi’s father, who was already in the US. Leaving felt spontaneous – Abi had no idea her last day in Mexico, was her last day. She left wearing a black Bart Simpson backpack, with a cardigan, a coloring book, and crayons inside. (audio below)

Leaving

She remembers how sad leaving Mexico was for her mom. Abi was put on a bus which took her close to the border, then she got in the van of her mom’s friend, and this woman brought Abi across the border, saying Abi was one of her daughters. (audio below)

Abi’s mom tried to cross on her own and got caught and sent back to Mexico by border patrol the first time. This meant that Abi, four years old, had to stay two weeks in a hotel room with this stranger who crossed her and her own three kids. Abi remembers the smell of cigarettes and combing the lice from the children’s hair. For these two weeks, her parents didn’t know where Abi was and they were “freaking out”. Then one day, the woman told Abi to get dressed and get in the van. That was the day Abi finally got to see her dad for the first time in almost two years. Three weeks later, her mom crossed the border without getting caught and met up with them.

They stayed in Colorado for a few months, where an aunt was living. Adjusting to the United States was hard for Abi’s mom, and job opportunities were scarce. An uncle had a construction business down in Mississippi, so they headed there to try it out. Abi’s dad was a welder in Mexico, but in America, he worked in construction and for a furniture business. Her mom, the daughter of a seamstress, had always worked office jobs in Mexico. She always said she would never sew like her mom did but a factory in Mississippi was hiring, and she has been sewing for them ever since. Both of Abi’s parents had to work night shifts. 

Abi’s mom, in particular, has endured a lot being away from her family.

“To be able to fight as hard as my mom has to raise my sister and me is incredible. We are family people, and she didn’t have support.”

Adapting

It wasn’t easy for Abi to adapt to school in Mississippi. She started kindergarten in New Albany, and only three other Hispanic families had kids at that school. She always felt like she was bringing weird-smelling foods or weird-looking drinks to school.

“We don’t stop being Mexicans just because we moved to a different country. It was hard to find friends that wouldn’t look at you weird. It’s really close-minded here. The Hispanic community is large now, but back then, it was small, so we were ‘foreigners.’”

There also wasn’t an ESL (English as a Second Language) teacher at her school to help her.

“I remember for two years, all they did was stick us Hispanics in a room and let us draw on the board.”

But Abi will never forget one teacher, Ms. Tammy Hill, who would try her best to help despite the language barrier. It was because of Ms. Hill that she learned English in nine months. (audio below)

Abi always felt excluded due to religious differences. Most of the people in this part of Mississippi are Baptists, whereas her family is Catholic. She felt like people were always asking her questions about the bible, and she couldn’t believe they do “bible drills”. (audio below)

Community

“I’ve always been a loner.”

Her mom thought Abi needed friends and signed her up for Girl Scouts. The leader, Miss Kareen, was the first white person Abi remembers truly accepting her and the other Hispanic kids. Her first friends, her age, were Miss Kareen’s daughter and niece.

“They were the first American family that accepted us for who we were. They didn’t question why we weren’t speaking English or why we couldn’t afford this or that. Girl Scouts will always hold a special place in my heart. It gave me the confidence I never had as a kid. We were all the weird kids, and we bonded over our weirdness.” (audio below)

Stokes is a general store off the highway that’s been around for many years. It’s where Abi’s parents would go to cash their work checks. They couldn’t cash them at most places without ID, but Mr. Stokes would cash them. He asked her family what they missed from home, and they said tortillas.

“There was nowhere here that you could find tortillas. Mr. Stokes said ‘give me a list,’ and he would order Mexican products to bring into the store. He was one of the few people who supported immigrants in this community. He always told me I could take one candy that I wanted when my parents cashed their checks.” (audio below)

Like Miss Kareen, Mr. Stokes, who passed away recently, treated Abi’s family with respect and kindness.

Dreams

From an early age, Abi knew she wanted to be a medical surgeon. With her high school counselor’s help, she took all the classes she would need to get accepted, and made excellent grades by “working [her] butt off.” It was two months before she graduated high school in 2013, and many universities had sent her letters of acceptance (including her dream university, Stanford), when Abi came to realize that because she didn’t have a social insurance number, so she wouldn’t qualify for any scholarships. Abi wasn’t going to be able to afford university, which was one of the hardest realizations she has ever had.

“You spend your entire senior year planning out your life and I wanted to go to Stanford so bad. That’s all I ever talked about.”

She settled for community college, and because she was undocumented, she was paying out-of-state tuition. After the first semester, she dropped out.

“I couldn’t get it out of my mind the fact that I had failed myself.” (audio below)

Medical school wasn’t in the cards for Abi. She thought about studying criminal science, and then joining the police force – and then found out she couldn’t do that since she wasn’t a US citizen.

“I went into a depressed state. I always knew something was off about me but I used to be one of those people who said, ‘just think happy thoughts, and it will go away.’”

She didn’t know what to do with her life, felt very alone, and was hopping from job to job. Then she met her partner, he helped her a lot, and she started to see “the light at the end of the tunnel.”

Grandma

If there is one person who has inspired Abi the most, it would be her grandma. She was orphaned at a young age, married young to an abusive husband, and got divorced (which was highly unusual at the time).

“My grandma is the epitome of strength and resilience. She put all her kids through school as a single mother. She would find ways to have fun and never focus on the negative.” (audio below)

When Abi left Mexico she thought she would never see her grandma again. Luckily, one decade after she arrived in the US, her grandma got a tourist visa to come to Mississippi and attend Abi’s graduation. Her grandma makes a green mole from scratch and snuck in some spices to make sure Abi got to eat her favorite dish.

“When I see her, it is like we haven’t missed a day. She’s just the light in my world. If I can be half the woman she is I’m doing something good. She forgets a lot of things because of her age, but she never forgets someone’s birthday.”

Although Abi couldn’t go to medical school, she still managed to find employment in the medical field. It started with a job in 2014 at the hospital doing newborn photography. Finding a passion and love for photography helped her get out of her depression. 

After the hospital, she started working at a dental office. Two Italian American dentist twins, Ronnie and Donnie, really believed in her.

“I didn’t know anything about being a dental assistant, and they hired me.”

Future

Abi feels like she is at a bit of a fork in the road and isn’t exactly sure what she is going to do next. She’d like to go to dental school, ideally at Ole Miss.

Even though Abi’s been in Mississippi for almost two decades, the fact that she isn’t from there is something she is reminded of regularly.

“To me, this is my home. New Albany is the first place I made my memories in the US. It doesn’t matter how excluded they make me feel; this is always going to be my home.”

Still, Abi believes that her generation is changing a lot of things here and thinks the future is bright.

“Here in Mississippi, we need to learn how to accept immigrants. We came here because we wanted a better life. If Mississippian people were to open up their doors and listen to our stories, they could start to understand that we aren’t here to invade or take jobs. We are all just people, and we are trying to make life happen for us too. I hope and pray that everyone learns to respect others, who may not look alike, sound alike, or pray alike. We are in the “bible belt,” and if we really are Christians, then we need to act like it. Immigrants should be included.” (audio below)

Abi hopes more people like herself will share their stories.

“I don’t think my story is particularly special from anyone else that has come to the United States to try and make a new life.”

Abi also thinks too many people either try to forget that they came from somewhere else. She doesn’t want to forget her roots.

“Even though I was four years old when I came here, Mexico is still a part of who I am.”

#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.

Amal’s Immigration Story – Khartoum, Sudan to New Haven, Connecticut

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Sudan

Amal remembers Sudan as sunny, wild, and breathtakingly beautiful, and the Sudanese people, as very giving. 

Amal’s grandmother, Souad Kalafala, whose name means “happiness”, took care of Amal when she was growing up. 

“She taught me how to cook, clean, and organize everything. She also taught me how to trust myself and how to plan for my future.”

Amal realized as a child that she had a real talent for painting. She started using the ink of henna, something popular in Sudan, to do her drawings. Amal especially loves doing henna for brides and grooms, a tradition at Sudanese weddings.

Amal met her husband Aamir at the hospital in Khartoum when she was tending to her sick father, and in 2002 she and Aamir married. She had a good job working at the Bank of Khartoum, and Aamir was a taxi driver. 

Danger

In 2008 the Justice and Equality Movement (JEM) invaded Khartoum. Both parties, the JEM rebels, and the Sudanese government’s army wore similar military outfits, which made it very difficult for anyone to distinguish between the two. While the conflict was ongoing, a group of men entered Aamir’s taxi, and he drove them to their destination. The next thing he knew, Aamir had been captured and jailed by the Sudanese National Intelligence. They accused Aamir of being a member of the JEM rebels, but he was only a taxi driver doing his job.

“I was imprisoned and tortured for a very long time.”

Fleeing to Egypt

Later that year, Aamir escaped from prison, and together the family fled to Egypt with their four-year-old son Ahmed Amir in tow. The five years they spent in Egypt were extremely difficult on Amal and Aamir. When they arrived in Egypt, Aamir was “completely broken” from the torture he had endured – so bad that at one point, he had to be hospitalized. Amal reflects on how long it took for Aamir to get healthy and start communicating again. Despite the terrible memories they have from Egypt, Amal says she met many kind Egyptians.

Their son Ahmed Amir who lived there from age four to age nine, remembers it differently than his parents.

“It was really fun in Egypt! My favorite memory was in a place called Alexandria. I remember how my father taught me how to swim and tried to teach me how to float.”

In Egypt, Amal’s family applied to the United Nations as asylum seekers. After applying, they noticed an improvement in their medical care, and Ahmed Amir was finally able to go to school. For five years, they lived in Egypt, waiting and hoping they would be able to restart their lives somewhere else soon.

Connecticut

Before leaving Egypt, they found out that their new home would be the United States. Amal and her family landed in Connecticut in November 2013. Staff from IRIS (Integrated Refugee and Immigrant Services), a refugee resettlement agency that helped bring their family to the US, were at the airport waiting. They brought Amal, Aamir, and Ahmed Aamir to their new apartment. That first morning in America was the first time any of them had seen or touched snow. 

“I woke up, and I thought Americans were crazy! I had never seen snow in my life so I thought I saw flour, and it was some cultural tradition that they threw flour on the ground and everything, but then my mom explained it was snow. Then I went outside and I wasn’t wearing anything heavy. I froze in no time! It was really cold outside, and inside it was really warm. It was a really good day.” (audio below)

IRIS

IRIS has had a lasting positive impact on Amal and her family. According to Amal, since picking her family up at the airport, IRIS has been with them “step by step.”

“IRIS was like a big mom for us.” (audio below)

The morning after they arrived in New Haven, they were driven to the IRIS building where they met the staff. Amal will never forget how they were all smiling. Sometimes weekly and often daily, Amal and her family would go to IRIS if they had any problems. 

According to director Chris George, IRIS is not a typical resettlement agency. It doesn’t want to only be “an assembly line of services during the initial months of a refugees’ arrival”. IRIS’s team realizes that refugees need more sustained help. so they provide programming that other agencies might consider extras, like health care, employment services, and an English language program with an early learning program.  (audio below)

“We have these resources because the community knows about us and supports us.”

From Chris George’s experience, Connecticut, and specifically New Haven, is a welcoming place to newcomers. The local community sees the benefits of having a diverse population. (audio below)

Adjusting

Adjusting to life in Connecticut was challenging. Amal went from survival mode in Egypt – where the only thing she was thinking about was the safety of her husband and son – to the United States, and finally being able to imagine a future. Amal found herself always anxious that she was going to lose this newfound safety. (audio below)

Despite being in a much safer environment, it has been challenging for Aamir and Amal to find work and communicate in English. The English Amal had learned in Egypt was British, and people didn’t seem to understand what she was saying at first. Aside from studying English, Amal works part-time in the Whole Foods produce section and loves her supervisor, and coworkers. Her husband, Aamir, works full time at a local restaurant as a dishwasher. He is often on the night shift and usually works 50 or 60 hours a week. He wants to go to school to improve his English, but he doesn’t have any time right now.

Ahmed Amir started fourth grade after arriving. He remembers being in ESL (English as a Second Language) class with Mr. Zach, someone whose patience and kindness helped him adjust. Ahmed Amir couldn’t believe how many different countries his classmates were from.

“Everybody treated each other equally like nothing was different no matter what race you were or color. Everybody was treated the same.”

Ahmed Amir has developed a real love for basketball since moving to the US, something he would never have played in Sudan. His favorite subjects are geography and history and he is especially excited to be learning Spanish this year, so he can communicate with some of his new Spanish-speaking friends in their language. (audio below)

Uncle Adam

They have one other person living in their house, and they refer to him as Uncle Adam. From the Darfur region of Sudan, Uncle Adam had been living in Libya and working as a tailor. When civil war broke out in 2011, he sought refuge at Salum Camp, on the border between Egypt and Libya. Like Amal’s family, he was resettled to New Haven in 2013 but was immediately admitted to hospital for two major surgeries. Today Uncle Adam is blind in one eye, has diabetes, a tumor in his head, and kidney problems. 

After arriving in New Haven, Uncle Adam lived for three years in a home with other single men who didn’t have a family. Most of these men in the house were young and busy working, so they didn’t have time to help him. Uncle Adam and Aamir are not from the same family or tribe, but Aamir saw that Uncle Adam was lonely and started visiting him regularly. Aamir would cook for him, do his laundry, shave his beard, and cut his nails. Aamir could see Uncle Adam wasn’t happy there, so he started bringing Uncle Adam to the house for Amal’s Sudanese cooking. (audio below)

Amal and Aamir realized they could take care of Uncle Adam on a full-time basis. With the help of IRIS, they did all the paperwork to become legally responsible for the care of Uncle Adam. When they first were resettled to New Haven, they lived in a one-bedroom house, but the judge said they needed to change homes for Uncle Adam to have his own room. This change meant an increase in rent, but they are managing.

Faith

Prayer and religion continue to be a big part of their family’s life in America and it’s something that they share with Uncle Adam.

Audio: The family and Uncle Adam praying at home

“We take Uncle Adam to pray at the mosque so that he can see other Sudanese people. Now he is one of the community, and he is doing better.”

Amal says the saddest part of Uncle Adam’s story is that he was trying everything to get his wife to the USA. With the help of a lawyer from IRIS, they started doing all the documents and coordinating with the US embassy in Khartoum. She got her visa, and one week before leaving for the US, she passed away. Uncle Adam was never able to see her again. All four of his children are still in Sudan, and they don’t have the financial means to visit him. 

Ambitions

While in Egypt, Aamir learned how to weld. Someday he would love to work as an engineer or pipeline inspector in the future instead of being a dishwasher. Amal wants to improve her language skills, so she can know more about the people she meets, and they can know her. On top of working at Whole Foods, Amal is studying English, as well as culinary arts, with the hopes that it will land her a good job in the field.

“We need to improve ourselves, our language, and be one of them [Americans]. We came to this country, have our own culture and traditions, but we need to know about these people. At first, we felt like guests, but I think after five years, we are a part of this community.” (audio below)

Future

Amal’s dream for the future is for her son Ahmed Amir to be happy, and seize the opportunities that she knows he has in the United States. 

“I think he is very lucky because of the education he gets here. There are more opportunities here if you want to improve yourself with knowledge. Everything is available here, unless you don’t want it.” (audio below)

Ahmed Amir dreams of one day traveling to Sudan to see his grandmothers and uncles again. 

“I see them over the phone, but it’s been a long time since I’ve seen them in person.”

*Update: Since the interview, Amal moved her family to Vermont for an incredible educational opportunity – private high school education for Ahmed Amir. Uncle Adam stayed in Connecticut, at the recommendation of his doctors.

#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.

Kriz’s Immigration Story – Hudiksvall, Sweden to Nashville, Tennessee

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Childhood

Kriz was born in the broader community of Hudiksvall, but her family lived in a small fishing village of only 200 households. She had a middle-class upbringing, with her mother at home caring for the family until she was seven. At that point, her mother became a “mail lady” at the post office. Her father worked in the sawmill. She was able to walk to her elementary school in her village, but from seventh grade onwards, Kriz took a bus to and from school. Kriz spent the summers of her childhood at her family’s lake house. Her father built a boat, and Kriz was seven when she first went out in it.

“I’m getting emotional now because he has Alzheimer’s, and his life is degenerating. He built that boat. It had a little engine on it, and he showed me how to start, stop and steer, and how to change the throttle. He started it for me and said, “off you go” and “off I went.” (audio below)

Her father was a keen archer and founder of their village’s archery club. The love of this sport rubbed off on Kriz, and for two years, Kriz held a Swedish national record.

Above: A handmade blown-glass bowl Kriz won at an archery competition

Country Music

Kriz’s dad also loved listening to country music. During family drives, he always played a mixed tape of Swedish traditional music, old-time rock n roll, and country music. He wanted Kriz to play an instrument, and he chose the accordion – which she didn’t care for. When she was 12, a new music teacher moved to the village, and seeing her dislike of the accordion, suggested Kriz try playing the guitar. Kriz started writing country music when she was 13 years old and figures that she has written over 300 songs to date [see her song binders below].

Audio: Kriz singing her signature song

“ I’ve been told that I have a Swedish accent when I speak but not when I sing.” (audio below)

Over the years, Kriz had several different jobs in Sweden: working in the sound department at a TV station and then on a farm. Before moving to the US, Kriz worked at a ski resort in the winter [see the photo below] and spent the rest of the year driving tractors and harvesting at both a sawmill and a peat moss field. Although she has yet to work as a truck driver – one job Kriz has always dreamed about doing.

“I guess it was a romanticized thing for me – the freedom of being on the roads listening to music.”

Growing up, she knew very little about the US, and never had any plans of visiting. All she knew was that it had a strong military, and it was massive.

“Exactly how big it is you don’t understand until you come here. If you travel from the northernmost point to the southernmost point in Sweden, it will take 10 to 12 hours – the same amount of time it takes to travel one state in the US.”

Finding Love

Kriz became an avid user of the website Myspace, regularly posting her music there. A man from Chattanooga, Tennessee, started frequently commenting on her music. In response, Kriz saw the potential for musical collaboration and sent him a recording of her singing along to one of his songs.

“I threw it out there: ‘Maybe we can do something together sometime?’ The conversation continued, and slowly but surely, we fell in love.” (audio below)

The phone bill was getting so expensive that it would be cheaper to buy airfare and meet in person than continue the long-distance relationship. This Tennessean proposed to her over the phone, but she said she wanted to meet him in person first. In 2008 she came to the US, he proposed, and Kriz said ‘yes.’

United States

Moving to the US was intimidating for Kriz, even though she could already speak English well.

“I was afraid I would do something wrong and stand out.”

The ubiquitous billboards lining the road were one of the first things that struck her about America, along with the incredible number of cars. The highway where she grew up had only two lanes, in comparison to the eight lanes in each direction she now experienced. Kriz could not believe people used drive-thru banks! 

“In Sweden you park your car and run errands on foot. Over here you drive-thru everything!”

It was a strange experience being unable to work legally when she first arrived on a K-1 fiancée visa. She used all this free time to learn about American culture by watching the Andy Griffith show. Kriz also started a diary of where and what she ate. The first entry on her list was McDonald’s, where she had a Mcgriddle, something she had never seen in Sweden. 

Kriz’s first job in the US was in a medical office answering phones, and next, she worked in a call center.

Nashville

Kriz and her husband moved from Chattanooga to Nashville because he needed back surgery. After he had recovered, Kriz began working at a chocolate store in a mall where she makes candy, candy apples, and stocks the chocolates. Kriz enjoys the job, and her boss says she would be lost without Kriz.

The first word that comes to mind when Kriz thinks of Nashville is ‘vibrant”. 

“You can feel the music in the air. If you are creative, you can feel inspiration just flowing around. It’s definitely touristy, but it has everything – big city life to country life.”

Kriz regularly visits Percy Priest Lake, only ten miles outside of downtown Nashville. After growing up by the water, it’s where she feels most at home in Tennessee.

Missing Sweden

Kriz misses all the holidays in Sweden, which always seem to be longer and more often there. In Sweden, you don’t put out cookies for Santa at Christmas but instead, leave a bowl of rice pudding. One important holiday in Sweden is Midsommar (Midsummer). It is so dark for most of the year, so they celebrate light! Traditionally young girls pick seven different types of flowers and use these to dream about who they are going to marry. Today most people don’t believe in this custom, but in the past, people did. Superstition amongst the older generation in Sweden was quite common. Kriz’s grandmother was always blaming trolls for any misfortune.

“My grandmother seriously believed in trolls and little supernatural beings living out in the woods or under the cabin. If something was missing, she blamed ‘the little ones.’”

She also misses the Fika culture – the time you socialize over a cup of coffee or a cup of tea (soda or kool-aid for the children) and snack. ‘Having a Fika’ with a friend is part of everyday life in Sweden. Her family always kept cinnamon rolls in the freezer in case someone came over. In nearby Atlanta, there is a large Swedish community and an IKEA store. While Kriz used to enjoy the Swedish meatballs, becoming a vegetarian has made her miss Swedish food less.

Audio: Reading her favorite poem by Swedish poet Dan Andersson

Future

It is hard having her parents still living in Sweden, especially with her father’s Alzheimer’s. Kriz is the only person in her family living in the United States. 

“They respect my choice, but they miss me, and I miss them.”

What makes it even harder lately is that her husband’s health hasn’t been good, so they no longer sing together. In the immediate future, Kriz will be releasing a small collection of poetry, while still hoping to write that “first million-dollar song.” 

Audio: A poem Kriz wrote for her granddaughter’s christening

*Update: Kriz’s father passed away this year. “God and circumstance would have it that I was there visiting, and he passed away peacefully. Even though I couldn’t stay to attend the funeral, the last verse of my dad’s favorite poem was read to him by his casket for me.” If you would like to listen to more of Kriz’s music, you can visit her Facebook Page. 

#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

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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.”

Above [right]: Ihab’s homemade venison sausage

“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

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 the project’s continuation it would be greatly appreciated!

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

Asani’s Immigration Story – Vatra Dornei, Romania to Detroit, Michigan

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Romania

Vatra Dornei is a tourist town where people from all over Europe go skiing and enjoy winter. Asani was born there in 1990 – the same year communism in Romania ended. She grew up hearing her parents’ stories of waiting in line for bread and how their greatest joy had been listening to the radio. Asani considers her childhood “easy” as she never experienced the hardships her parents did. Her parents always made sure she and her brother went to school, no matter what.

“One winter the snow was so bad my mom couldn’t open the door. She had to dig a tunnel to get us out.” (audio below)

Above: Asani and her family on Oct 6, 1995 (audio below)

The Envelope

Asani’s mom was an agricultural engineer and professor and her dad was the only veterinarian in Vatra Dornei. They had a pretty good life there but they wanted a better future for their children and thought the US could provide that. Her dad had been dreaming about moving to America since high school. In 2000, when Asani was ten years old, her mom won the visa lottery. Asani remembers clearly the moment they found out the family was moving to America. The envelope arrived, her dad opened the letter, and her mom started crying. It was the culture back then for the mailman, also known as the “town drunk” to have a drink at every house where he delivered mail, so they were thankful the precious envelope even got to them!

“What we knew of America was it is this amazing country with the Golden Gate Bridge, and everyone there is rich!”

The family sold all their belongings and had lots of goodbye parties. At the time, Asani was too young to understand how life-changing this move would be.

“I didn’t realize what moving was and that I would be away from the rest of my family for the rest of my life.” (audio below)

Adjusting

The family moved from a comfortable lifestyle in Romania, where they were always having parties and socializing – to San Francisco, where they didn’t have money, friends, couldn’t speak the language, and their academic qualifications weren’t convertible. Both of Asani’s parents were always working two or three jobs. 

For Asani, it was fun at first being in this new place, but they didn’t speak English. For the first three months, she and her brother stayed home with a “Romanian to English” dictionary, English language cartoons, and their parents’ encouragement. She remembers the massive playground down the street, which was exciting since they didn’t have one in Vatra Dornei. When Asani took an exam so the school could figure out which grade to place her in, they bumped her up a year. She never had a single ESL (English as a Second Language) class! She remembers the day she couldn’t recall a simple Romanian word.

“I couldn’t think of how to say ‘bread’ in Romanian. That was a shocking moment.”

Michigan

After one year of trying to make ends meet in California, the family decided to drive across the country to Michigan, which has the largest population of Romanians outside of Romania. They knew they had friends there and her parents were searching, trying to get the life back that they had in Romania. (audio below)

Life didn’t get much more comfortable when they moved to Michigan. Her parents worked at a factory making car parts, pressing buttons working seven days a week.

“Our parents would be gone. We would wake up by ourselves, make food for dinner, do our homework. They would come home at 10 pm. Sundays, they worked half days, and that was the only day we saw our parents. For a little while, my little brother and I had to raise ourselves.”

Identity

Asani’s legal name is Alexandra, but her older brother, who was a toddler at the time, called her “Asani” when they were heading home from the hospital. (audio below)

Asani picked up English fast and found herself regularly translating for her parents. She remembers moments when her parents didn’t understand something, and people would laugh at them. She came to believe that being Romanian wasn’t a good thing. 

“I was embarrassed that I was from another country and didn’t want people to know. I didn’t want people to call me Asani, so I would tell them Alex is fine”.

Eventually, Asani became very proud to be from Romania.

“If you ask anyone from my dental school about me, the first thing they would say is ‘Asani is Romanian.’” (audio below)

Perfect Smiles

One of the first things Asani noticed about Americans was their perfect smiles. 

“Everyone had straight teeth, no-gap, perfect smiles. I had a gap – a really big gap when I was a young girl. I thought all these American people would know I was different because of my gap.”

Asani remembers covering her face and trying to avoid talking to Americans. She would dream of one day having that “American smile,” and this led to her dream of being a dentist. Before moving to America, she always thought she would be a veterinarian like her father. 

“Moving to America led me to the career I am choosing. I got into dental school, and I am fixing my smile. After going through what I went through, I don’t want people to be unhappy with their teeth.” (audio below)

Happiness

Her dad now works for the University of Michigan’s animal research center, and her mom works for the Engineering Library, maintaining the collection. Asani knows that her parents didn’t have the life they expected to have in the US. Asani’s dad seems to like the US more and more. After each visit back to Romania, he is happier he left. Asani feels like her mom can never feel happiness in America because her extended family is still in Romania. Her mother always said, “We are never truly happy unless we are in Romania.”

Asani thinks her mom feels guilt for any happy moments she has in America because her family isn’t here. The majority of the family in Romania live day-to-day, and her parents continually send remittances to Romania. Asani hopes one day the rest of the family can come to America too.

“Everything I do is so I can eventually bring my mom and dad happiness.” (audio below)

Asani wants to make sure that she repays her parents for all they have done for her. She knows how much they sacrificed for her and her brother to have a better future. Even now, when she visits home, her mom always tries to give her 20 dollars, since she knows Asani is living off of student loans. Asani promises her that when she is a dentist, she will pay her back. 

“I can’t wait for the day when I have the money, and I can take my mom and all her sisters to Santorini or something and treat them all like goddesses.” (audio below)

Since moving to the US, Asani has moved 19 times and moved to the city of Detroit when she started dental school in 2015. Asani says a lot of people look down on Detroit, but to her it is home. She loves how new restaurants and murals are popping up all the time, and she’s never felt unsafe. She especially adores Belle Isle, where she runs regularly.

Future

If Asani has a child, she doesn’t want them to feel torn like she has – between America and Romania. She wants them to have a place they call home.

Every weekend growing up, Asani’s family would go hiking in the mountains. Like her and her ancestors, when Asani has children, she needs them to have this experience, to know nature and the mountains. (audio below)

Michigan doesn’t have mountains, but when she visited Washington State, it felt more like Romania. Maybe someday Asani will move out west.

*Update: Since the interview, Asani has moved to North Carolina, where she is practicing as a dentist. Asani is also going to be getting married soon to the love of her life, with one ceremony in Vatra Dornei and one in the United States.

#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.

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

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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.

Elke’s Immigration Story – Vellberg, Germany to Mineral Bluff, Georgia

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Childhood

Elke grew up on a farm outside the town of Vellberg, Germany, where she remembers working hard as a child. Every day after school, she would come home and help feed the animals. While her father always wanted a boy, he ended up with four girls. From an early age, Elke dreamed of finding a husband and having children. (audio below)

Elke says, like most Germans, she traveled a lot. She explains how, in the US, someone may go from Alabama to Florida, while in Germany within a similar distance, you would go to France or Austria. Whenever she had extra money, she would travel through Europe by train. 

Costa Rica

In 1989, Elke decided to take her biggest trip yet –  a three-month solo adventure to Costa Rica. After a month, she was on the bus when she met an American named Tom, who was living in Costa Rica. He owned horses, and Elke wanted to buy one.

When Tom went to Costa Rica, he didn’t plan on returning to the USA. To make a living, Tom first improvised by making fresh orange juice and selling it to tourists. This business didn’t last long as he was picked up by the authorities and taken to jail. While he was in prison, he was befriended by one of the officers, who would later become the head of immigration and eventually helped Elke and Tom escape from Costa Rica.

Above: Tom with one of his horses in Costa Rica.

Romance

After being released from detention, Tom bought horses and started his own business – an off the grid tourist resort of sorts. Elke rented a horse from Tom a few times, and then they went on a “real date.” Tom reflects:

“We walked down to the next town, Cabuya, to eat at a little bitty restaurant with just two or three tables – and had a great meal. This was after swimming in a beautiful little river there with Rio Lajas coming out of Cabo Blanco – we made out for the first time, then we had that great meal. On the way back, we stopped along the road. Do you know that Beatles song ‘Do it in the road’? Well, we did ‘it’ in the road!” (audio below)

Above: Tom describes this photo of Elke riding her horse as his “favorite picture.”

When Elke went back to Germany, it only took her one month to pack all her things and return to Costa Rica, and Tom. He was surprised when she came back, justifying it by saying [while laughing] “Elke came back for the horse.” (audio below)

They spent almost three years living together in Costa Rica before they had to leave. 

“Living in Costa Rica was wild – like living in a movie. It was a constant struggle for survival, but you were living.”

They had the ocean and were meeting people from all over the world at the tourist resort they were running. They had little palm houses people could stay in and 40 horses.

Drugs

“We did a lot of drugs in Costa Rica. It was very cheap, and we abused it. I believe that if I had stayed away from drugs down there, I would still be there.” 

The neighbors reported Elke and Tom to the Costa Rican authorities for being cocaine dealers [they were users, not dealers]. Tom remembers when two truckloads of men with machine guns showed up and shot up the farm.  

They had brought in a partner to help them manage the business, and he took advantage of the situation – without paying them for it, he essentially took control of the farm. They lost the property, and Tom was thrown in jail. Tom blames his drug use for his inability to stand up to this partner and maintain the business.

 “I think it is just right that when you are doing that much drugs, you end up losing everything. When you screw up, life will punish you”. (audio below)

“My passport shows that I’m still in Costa Rica. I got out of the country and never looked back.”

United States

With Elke being seven months pregnant, they escaped Costa Rica. With the help of the head of immigration who Tom knew from his previous detention, and made their way to Orlando, Florida. Destitute, without money or clothes, friends let them sleep on their couches. Over time they managed to move into a microbus, then to an apartment and finally a small house in Samford, Florida, which they purchased. They enrolled in college and, when finished, moved to Georgia, where their second child was born. 

Trout Shipping

In 2004, a man they met offered them his trout shipping business. They bought this business and continue to operate it while living in the Appalachian mountains. It is routine business, and they also ship apples now. Once they receive an order, they pick up the shipment and deliver it. Elke says all they need is a truck, which doubles as her office, and a cell phone.

Helping Strangers

Tom has a strong sense of empathy towards those in need, which can be attributed to his experience of hitting rock bottom while in Costa Rica. He remembers the people who helped them when they were in need and wants to do the same for others. 

Elke and Tom have hosted more than 800 people in their house over the years. It is usual for Tom when he is making his trout shipments to Atlanta, to invite people who are facing hardships up to their home in the Appalachian mountains. They host kids that were living on the street, couch surfers, hitchhikers, and they hosted a big group from the Occupy Movement. One older man brought scabies into their house, but they still love him. Tom says,

“I can see a little bit of me in every single person that comes here.”

They have hosted people who have committed all sorts of crime from armed robbery to murder – helping them all get on their feet after being in jail. Usually, they don’t have any problems, but on the rare occasion, they do. One guy pulled a knife [see the above photo] on Elke, which she confiscated.

One young man they had taken in after he got out of jail told Tom he wanted to shoot, so Tom set a bottle up as a target off the deck. The youth shot a whole magazine at the bottle and didn’t hit it. Tom fired one shot, hit the bottle dead on, then turned to this young man, looked him directly in the eyes and said:

“If you pull a gun on someone in Atlanta, and they are someone like me, you will die. Get out of this life of crime.” (audio below)

Family

One person who has been with them longer than most is Dana [see the photo below] – someone they say “fell through the cracks.” Dana has many health problems, no real family, and had lived on the streets while battling alcoholism. When they first took Dana in, they weaned him off alcohol, but he started having seizures. With Tom and Elke’s help, Dana was able to secure disability insurance. Dana couldn’t stay away from alcohol – and it was common for him to be arrested and then returned to Tom and Elke. For a while, Dana tried living with his brother but ended up getting kicked out, and once again, Tom found him living on the streets in Atlanta, and “just wanted to get him home.”

They have developed a real connection to Dana, and he has a permanent home in their basement. Elke gives him “two to three beers every day and a bottle of moonshine for his birthday, and he is as happy as a clam”. 

“Wherever we go, we take Dana. He’s family.”

Elke and Tom love having dogs, especially Great Danes. At one point, they had ten dogs, and seven of them were Great Danes. Now they only have two, Lluvia and Luna.

“We love big dogs. Every day with them is a blessing.”

German

Elke stays connected to Germany by reading German authors such as Herman Hesse, who is her favorite. Hesse was born ten miles from her hometown. Elke also keeps in touch with her German family over WhatsApp. She misses her mom’s cooking, especially the potato salad and the German beer, small towns, and little festivals. 

Elke regrets not teaching her children how to speak German. She felt like she was too busy learning English to teach them, German. When Elke met Tom, she had five years of English language education from Germany. Despite this, Elke says she could barely speak the language.

Elke doesn’t have any German friends in the US, but some of her friends from Germany have visited. One time she had friends from Germany visiting, which resulted in a bullet hole through their kitchen window [see the above photo].

“We had a great time here together. My friend, her husband, and I were upstairs printing off a ticket. Tom was sitting on the computer dry firing. For some reason, there was a bullet in the gun. It went boom – Tom fired off a shot. It was quite an event! ”

Tom jokes:

“I’m famous in Germany now! We haven’t had any Germans come back.” (audio below)

Elke and Tom love living in Georgia – although Elke believes that it doesn’t matter where you live in the US, you can meet friendly people.

 “Georgia is beautiful. We have a really good life here.”

Living Well

Despite no longer partying the way they did in Costa Rica, Elke and Tom are still extraordinarily social and love entertaining. They had 150 people over to their cabin to watch the eclipse and even hired a mariachi band for the occasion. They’ve been married for more than a quarter-century, and according to Tom, he does whatever she tells him to do. (audio below)

Within the next decade, they plan to sell their trout business and build tiny homes to house tourists on their property. They see this enterprise as a way to continue hosting and interacting with diverse people while living up in the Appalachian Mountains of Georgia.

#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.

Anna’s Immigration Story – Labartoov, Poland to Lakeland, Florida

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Childhood

Anna was born in Labartoov, Poland, in the late 1970s and lived there until she was 16 years old. It was a small town, established in the 15th century and not particularly well now or famous for anything. It has three churches and “is one of those towns in Poland where everybody knows each other.”

As a child in Poland, Anna played outside a lot, but she thinks kids then grew up faster. Drinking and smoking at a young age was part of the culture. Her first drink of alcohol was at the age of 12. 

Anna was a Polish Girl Guide [see the photo above], which she describes as “military-ish.” They had squads, platoons, and ranks, and, like Scouts in America, they learned how to survive in the woods, build shelters and tie knots.

Father Leaves

Anna’s dad fled to the United States when she was six. The Iron Curtain was still up, so there was no chance that he would be returning. He received political asylum, and Anna wouldn’t see him again for seven years.

“I remember my first communion, and my dad wasn’t there. It is a big deal since almost everybody is Catholic in Poland. It is a right of passage – you get the dress, a whole ceremony – he wasn’t part of that.” (audio below)

She was used to receiving a lot of positive attention from her dad, so when he left, Anna took it very hard. His departure was even more difficult as her mother, who was an English teacher, was not very loving or patient, and her much older brothers were very hard on Anna. 

“I remember the first time we were able to call him; we had to go to a cousin’s house who had a phone. We set up a time to talk, and I couldn’t talk to him because I was so upset that he had left us. I refused to get on the phone.” (audio below)

Before he left, her father had been working in a communist factory, where everybody was getting the same minimal pay. He was a mechanical engineer, and there was no potential for advancement in Poland. Her mother told Anna that her father had left for the United States to find a way to make more money to provide a better life for the family. During this whole time apart, her parents stayed married, which Anna isn’t sure whether or not it was the best idea. Anna didn’t understand all that was going on between her parents.

Lacking Support

In Poland, you have to pick a major when you go to high school. All that Anna cared about was getting away from her mom, who was continually telling Anna she wasn’t good enough. She remembers her mom telling her, “become a hairdresser because that’s all you are good for”.

“I always tell people that I didn’t have dreams growing up. My mom always used to put me down. It didn’t matter what I wanted; my mom would bring me down. I never had anybody motivate me or encourage me in any way. I didn’t have any talent; at least I didn’t think I did.” (audio below)

By then, both of her brothers had already moved away to the US, so it was just Anna and her mom. The high school Anna wanted to go to was in a town 20 miles away, so she filled out the paperwork and her mom said she submitted it.  She didn’t.

“She didn’t tell me until the day of the entry exams. I was so heartbroken, betrayed, and angry at her, and life in general. I didn’t care and I didn’t want to go to school. All my friends were doing what they wanted to do, and I didn’t have that chance.”

Anna gave her father an ultimatum – he was going to bring her to the United States, or she wasn’t going to high school at all. She knew he was cheating on her mother.

“The reason he didn’t want me and my mom there was because it would interfere with his extracurricular activities.”

United States

Anna’s father submitted the paperwork for her to immigrate and in February 1994, in the middle of her high school sophomore year, Anna and her mom arrived in New York. Her parents were constantly fighting, so it wasn’t long before Anna decided to move out and head to California to live with her brothers.

“It was the best decision I’ve made. It was beautiful. The high school I went to was awesome and diverse and close to the ocean. It was the United States that I imagined.”

She went from taking ESL classes in sophomore year, to being in the English honors class her junior year. Anna was starting to see that she did have talents despite her mother’s misgivings.

“This gave me the confidence I was always lacking. I’m not stupid. I can do it. I proved myself.”

She was happy to finish high school, but she didn’t know what to do next.

Recruitment

Anna went to a junior college in Southern California, thinking more about Malibu Beach and hot guys, than academics. One day she got an unexpected call from a military recruiter: “Have you ever thought about joining the military?”

The recruiter was giving her his best pitch. Anna was sold when he started talking about all the travel she could do as part of the military. Her mom never let her travel when she lived in Poland.

“I only told my two best friends I had joined the army. I thought I would fail and not make it through basic training since I had no faith in myself. You don’t know how much you can do until you have a drill sergeant yelling at you! I excelled and I was also a very good shot.” (audio below)

Military

After completing basic training in South Carolina, she became an administrative specialist – “a secretary basically”. She ended up in Fort Zil, Oklahoma, which was a culture shock. 

“Oklahoma – where everybody has accents, wears tight wranglers, cowboy hats, and drives trucks. I cried when I first got there; this is not California!”

The military stationed Anna with a field artillery unit, which was almost all men. During this time, she started taking college classes, which the military paid for, and she became an American citizen. After four years in Oklahoma and at 24 years of age, she still didn’t know what she wanted to do as a career.

Anna decided to extend her contract, and in 2001 she was stationed in Germany where she stayed for almost three years. Germany is where she met her now-former husband, who was also in the military. 

In 2003, Anna arrived in Fort Huachuca, Arizona, six months pregnant. Although she was only in Arizona for a year, she loved it.  

“I loved Arizona. I didn’t think I would love being in the middle of the desert. It’s beautiful, and the people were super nice. Nobody is as nice as they are in Arizona. Even at the DMV, when you go to register your car, they are nice!” 

Anna and her husband decided to settle in Lakeland, Florida, where he grew up.

Nursing

Anna had been studying business administration while in the military, but she didn’t want to work in that field. She met a Polish woman who was working as a nurse and realized she could do that too. A few months before she finished her college degree, she took the necessary sciences and got into nursing school.

“I didn’t know what kind of nurse I wanted to be. One day I floated to ICU, this guy who was 40 years old and coded. All the nurses started doing CPR, and I just stood there and said, ‘I want to be that when I grow up’! Nurses handle everything and that’s what I do now.” (audio below)

Above: “This light comes from Florence Nightingale, the first real nurse. During the Crimean War, she was taking care of sick soldiers and would make rounds with the lamp. All nurses were required to carry a lamp. Ever since then, it has become a symbol of hope that nurses carry. We give that hope to the hopeless.” 

“In the ICU, it is always something. You have to be knocking on death’s door, whether it is your heart or multisystem organ failure. Our eyes are on you all the time – two patients per nurse. That’s why I like the ICU; it is always something, not just an earache.”

Audio: Anna explaining how it is hardest dealing with the younger patients who experience trauma

Divorce

It was during nursing school that she realized that her marriage wasn’t going to last. When she and her husband split up, her children were two and four years old, and she was still in nursing school. “It was hell! Harder than basic training!”

“When I was going through everything with my ex-husband, I noticed I would get very frustrated with them, and that was not who I wanted to be. I did not want to be my mom. I’ve got to be better than that.”

Audio: Anna reflecting on becoming a parent

Now her children are teenagers, and both are involved in competitive cheerleading. Anna clarifies that cheerleading was their idea, not hers. While it is both time-consuming and money-consuming, her girls really wanted to cheer. (audio below)

“I want to be a parent, but I also want to be a friend. I want to support them in whatever they choose to do.”

Above: During Hurricane Irma, Anna’s daughters stayed in the basement of the hospital while their mom worked upstairs. In the aftermath, the backyard needed a new fence, and the trampoline remains upside-down.

Lakeland

Anna describes Lakeland as a city that is very southern, racist, small-minded, with “not a whole lot of anything going on.” At the same time, she thinks it is a good place to raise kids. Still, she wishes her children could be exposed more to other cultures. 

“I’ve met a lot of people who haven’t seen snow or been on a plane. You live in the United States, and you haven’t seen snow? A lot of ‘Oh, I’ve got everything I need right here’.” 

There aren’t a lot of Polish people around in Lakeland, but she’s never felt excluded by the local community. 

“I’ve never had anyone make me feel like I was invading their country. Do I get Polish jokes? All the time. Blonde jokes? All the time. It is what it is.” (audio below)

Republican and pro-Trump is the norm in Lakeland, Florida. Anna is proud that her daughters are developing critical minds and thinking about some of the ideas they are encountering. 

“My daughter was the only student in her class that was anti-Trump. First off, you are a girl, and as a woman, you can never support Trump. She was the only one! When we drive together, I use that time to discuss different issues. I try to talk on her level. You can see the wheels turning.” (audio below)

Missing Poland

Anna misses the social life in Poland. She thinks the everyday interactions between people in Poland are more genuine. 

“When someone asks you ‘how you are doing?’ in Poland, they really mean it – they want to know. Nobody is going to say, ‘I’m fine’ even though their house is on fire!”

Anna finds conversations are not as authentic as she remembers them being in Poland. (audio below)

Anna wants her children to feel connected to Poland and has already taken them to visit the country several times. The last time they were in Poland the girls remembered how delicious the bread was, and they learned a few words.

“They’ve already got the travel bug. I always tell them the world is so much bigger than what you see. You just have to open yourself up to that.”

She can’t wait to take them on a trip to Europe. 

“They are going to try some Italian wine! I don’t want them growing up sheltered because then the kids go crazy. By the time they hit college, all the kids go crazy here. Everything is too taboo!”

Polish Christmas

At Christmas, Anna misses the holiday as she remembers it from Poland.  

“Christmas is the happiest holiday in Poland. All the other holidays in Poland are sad. Halloween is sad and the same with Easter. We don’t have egg hunts and the Easter bunny – you fast for 40 days, starve yourself, go to church every day and pray for hours and hours. But Christmas is happy.” 

She has tried to keep some of the Polish Christmas traditions going here in Florida because she knew her girls would like it. It involves a red soup called barszcz, not eating meat on the night of the 24th, and only starting dinner (with up to 24 different dishes) once the kids have spotted the first star

“You always set the table with an extra setting for an unknown stranger. If an unknown stranger comes through and knocks on the door you are ready for them.” 

After dinner, the family goes to midnight mass. When you return from the mass you can eat sausage, drink, and party. (audio below)

Anna continues to try and be a mother very different from her own, as she encourages her girls to pursue their dreams.

#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.

Isaías’s Immigration Story – Guadalupe De Trujillo, Mexico to Denver, Colorado

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Childhood

In 1992, Isaías [who prefers the pronoun ‘they’] was born in Guadalupe de Trujillo – a tiny town of 400 people at the foot of mountains in Fresnillo, Zacatecas. Isaías’s elementary school was small, and because they didn’t have enough teachers, the students would either attend at night or in the morning. Isaías remembers being incredibly poor, often being alone, and bicycling a lot – up into the mountain as far as possible.

Isaías’s mom remembers her child as being unique, strong, and intelligent while growing up.

“He could have conversations like an adult when he was a little boy.”

Above: Isaías and cats at home in Guadalupe De Trujillo [left] and Isaías’s parents sitting at home in Mexico under their daughter’s portrait [right].

Isaías’s father’s family had long been working on a big ranch nearby, which is how they all ended up in Guadalupe De Trujillo. Their family grew corn, beans, chile, and other produce to subsist. Over the years, the family’s financial resources steadily depleted as they couldn’t compete with cheaper imported corn from the USA as a result of NAFTA. They could no longer survive there.

“It was tough to live. Agriculture wasn’t good, and we were not making enough money to survive.” (audio below)

Family History

Isaías’s family has a long history of coming to the United States. Their maternal grandfather was a bracero (temporary farm worker) in the 1960s. He would go north, work the fields, and then return to Mexico. It was much easier to cross the border at that time. His sons did the same when they were old enough. Isaías’s two older brothers were inspired to try their luck in the US like generations before them. Isaias’s brothers moved to Colorado and started working in fast-food restaurants and later worked in drywall. The family was surviving on the remittances they were sending back to Mexico.

Isaías’s older brothers encouraged their parents to visit them in Colorado. It was supposed to be a vacation – a spring break trip on a six-month visitor visa.

“We left everything as though we were going to return, but we never did.”

Valentine’s Day

At eight years old, Isaías and parents crossed the border at El Paso, Texas, during the night on Valentine’s Day, 2001. Isaías woke up on the way and remembers being fascinated by the structure of the houses – in particular, the angle on the rooftops designed for the snow. This was something not seen in Mexico and previously only seen on the miniature Christmas houses from childhood which Isaías received in exchange for Coca-Cola bottle caps.

After arriving in the US, Isaías’s mom would make tamales to sell every Friday at the local liquor store. Isaías learned to work hard helping mom sell tamales. Isaías’s father [see the above photo] started working in road construction and has been doing this job for over 20 years now.

Above: Isaías with Dr. Sierra, the first educator in the US who got Isaías interested in learning

Adjusting

Shortly after arriving, Isaías started third grade.  

“I was placed in a classroom where I didn’t understand anything. I would often get in trouble for not following the rules, but it was because I didn’t understand what I was supposed to be doing. My teacher, who was bilingual, told me that she didn’t speak to me in Spanish because she didn’t like Spanish. In 4th grade, I had a teacher who was Cuban, and she helped me realize that what I was going through when I got here was not normal.” (audio below)

It was challenging to adjust to being inside a house all the time. In Mexico, Isaías was always outside and free. In Colorado, Isaías wasn’t allowed to go out alone. Their mother didn’t think it was safe, as, at the time, there were a lot of gangs in their Globeville neighborhood.

Above: Isaías’s father holding a photo of Isaías taken one month after arriving in the US. Isaías is holding a birthday cake their cousin made for them.

“I was happy and excited because, in Mexico, we never celebrated birthdays since we were poor.”

Undocumented

Isaías always knew that the family was undocumented; their parents never hid it from the children. Isaías knew they couldn’t get a driver’s license or a social security number and that working legally wasn’t an option.

“In high school, I worked very hard, hoping that by the time I graduated, I could become ‘legal.’ When I got to senior year, I realized that it wasn’t happening – that began my activism. I did not have the resources at highschool. All of the conversations on how to go to college didn’t apply to me. Almost 50 % of my class was undocumented! I realized they needed help.” (audio below)

The realization that undocumented students were not being properly prepared for life after high school led Isaías to help form an advocacy organization called “Keeping The Dream Alive”.

Advocacy

Isaías graduated from high school in 2011. It was going to cost between three to six times more for them to go to college than a documented student – so Isaías didn’t go. Isaías began advocating for in-state tuition for undocumented students in Colorado, becoming more vocal and meeting with state representatives.  In 2013, Colorado changed the policy, and undocumented students were eligible to pay in-state tuition fees. Isaías increasingly connected to people all around the country, fighting for causes related to undocumented youth.

Isaías feels like since the 1980s there has been a lot of promising talk by politicians with minimal action. Even with Obama, Isaías didn’t see their community getting enough support.

“Obama deported more of our family members than any other president in this country.”

Isaías started canvassing, signing up family members to vote, going on hunger strikes, and other non-violent protests such as ‘occupying.’

“I had nothing else to lose. I became very vocal about my story.”

DACA

Finally, in 2012 Obama passed the Dream Act. DACA (Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals) allows undocumented people who arrived in the US as children to receive a renewable, two-year period of deferred deportation. After DACA came into effect, Isaías decided to take a step back from leading the community. As the face of many campaigns, assuming the role of “poster child” was a lot of pressure, and Isaías came to realize that it was all-consuming.

“I would get asked about my hobbies and I always said, ‘I don’t have a hobby; I organize.’ When I wasn’t doing that, I was resting.”

On August 15th, 2012, the day of the announcement that applications for DACA were open, the police pulled Isaías over for speeding. Isaías was heading home after the press conference – to gather paperwork to help at a DACA clinic. Isaías was not speeding. 

Arrest

When asked for identification, Isaías showed a school and a church ID, which didn’t satisfy the officer. The police officer asked: “When did you come into the country? When did you learn to speak English?” Isaías refused to answer because these questions did not relate to the alleged speeding infraction. Told to get out of the car, Isaías went to text their partner. The police officer took Isaías’s phone and threw it. Then they arrested Isaías, along with Isaías’ partner, who had arrived on the scene. Luckily, the office of the non-profit “Rights for Our People” group was closeby, and the director came on the scene to help.

“The cop kept asking if I was ‘legal’.”

Isaías didn’t want to answer any questions unassociated with being pulled over. The officer said they were going to call ICE, which Isaías said was fine. Isaías told the officer, “when I get out of here, we are going to sit down and talk about how you aren’t supposed to be arresting people based on immigration status.”

“I wasn’t afraid I was just very angry. I told myself if I end up in a detention center, then I would organize in the detention center”.

A year after the arrest, as promised, Isaías did discuss this with the arresting officer and the chief of police, who after the discussion, committed to better training for police officers. (audio below)  

Sister

Isaías’ older sister stayed in Mexico when they left in 2001 because she was already married. Isaías misses her constantly and says that she is the reason why their parents are physically in the US but mentally still in Mexico. It wasn’t until 2015, 14 years later, when the Mexican government facilitated a trip to Mexico for “prominent” activists and immigrant youth with DACA, that Isaías was able to finally see her again.

Above: The first photo Isaías received in the mail of their sister’s children who live in Mexico
Above: Isaías with sister before leaving Mexico [left], and Isaías with sister in 2015 [right]

“It was the very first time I was able to travel back to Mexico, after 14 years, and hug my sister. Because of the current US immigration laws, I am no longer able to do that and don’t know when or if I will hug her again.”

Globeville

Isaías has been living in the Denver neighborhood, Globeville, since arriving in the states. Globeville used to be a separate little town outside of Denver, where European immigrants came to work in the coal smelting plants. The houses are small – built as temporary housing for the workers, and many of them have weird shapes because residents have added on additions. Isaías highlights how 80216, their zip code, is one of the most polluted in the country because of the smelting plants. As a child, Isaías remembers the city removing contaminated topsoil, house by house, throughout the neighborhood.

People referred to Globeville as “Little Guadalupe” when Isaías was young because the population had become predominantly Latino. Today Globeville is undergoing intense gentrification, and Isaías sees the harm that results firsthand.

 “All the people that we knew are no longer here. The only people of color still here are ones that were able to buy a house, since rent has skyrocketed.”

The only reason Isaías’s family is still able to stay in Globeville is that the landlord hasn’t increased their rent in 10 years. However, the landlord has informed them that he will no longer be renting out the house. Isaías has an opportunity to buy the house, but it’s too much.

“My family is so attached to this neighborhood and this house. If we have to find a new place, we would rather go back to Mexico.”

Education

Isaías has been studying social work part-time and working at the front desk of a local charter high school. Isaías has been trying to transition into an advocacy role in schools. Through experience with organizing and advocacy, Isaías understands the importance of equal access and high-quality education for the next generation. (audio below)

“I get a lot of hope from working with students; they are hilarious.”

Queer

Isaías came out as queer in high school. (audio below)

“I was very proud of myself – coming out as both undocumented and queer.”

Isaías emphasizes how for many trans/queer immigrants who are undocumented, deportation could mean returning to a country where their security may be in jeopardy because of their sexuality or gender. A lot of Isaías advocacy has been at the intersection of trans/queer and immigration – bringing people together at this intersection instead of letting these two movements remain siloed. Isaías emphasizes how in the immigrants’ rights community, can be transphobic, and the LGBTIQ community can be anti-immigrant. (audio below)

Above: Caprio Sanguinette Park where Isaías goes to decompress.
Audio: Isaías offers advice to other immigrants in the LGBTIQ community

Strong and Honest

Isaías describes their mother as the strongest and most honest person they know. 

“I’m so thankful to mom. She was always very honest with everything we were going through including living in poverty. She has helped me by always being honest with myself and other people. Sometimes too honest. Sometimes I don’t feel comfortable being as honest as she is.”

While Isaías’s mom thinks life has been better for her kids in the United States, it has been harder for her and her husband. She is tired of how hard her husband’s job is on him.

“My future isn’t in the US, it is in Mexico. My main hope is to look after my kids, and I won’t be able to see them if I’m there. It is really sad. It would be hard to leave them.” (audio below)

Her dream is for Isaías to graduate from university. She understands how hard it is for Isaías to do that since they have to work to help support the family.

*Update: Since the time of the interview, Isaías has returned to community organizing for immigrant student rights, and to remove educational barriers for students of color. They are currently the Operations Manager & Executive Assistant for Padres & Jóvenes Unidos. Isaías’s family’s house was placed on the market, and they had to move out. The family was able to stay in Globeville but now they are paying four times more in monthly rent.

#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.

Kakiko’s Immigration Story – Autlán, Mexico to Anchorage, Alaska

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Childhood

Kakiko and his two siblings grew up in Autlán, a small Mexican town in an agricultural valley. As a child, he regularly played with his cousins, but then they migrated north. When he was a teen, his mom and dad divorced, and his dad, like his cousins, migrated north too. Their migrations had a significant effect on Kakiko’s happiness. He found that physical activities like biking and mountain climbing could distract him from life’s worries.

Kakiko

At birth, Kakiko was named Jose Ricardo. As a child, he struggled at having people understand his name, and when he told them “Ricardito”, for some reason, they heard “Kakiko” – so that name stuck. In Alaska, people know him as Kakiko and think it’s his birth name.

Mother

Kakiko’s mother was a school teacher and she also ran a shoe store. When he left his hometown for college, his mother’s best friend gave Kakiko this photo [above], and he takes it with him every time he moves somewhere new.

“I have a really strong connection with my mom. I was a big support for her, and she came to me with any problem she had. When I moved, it was a big deal for her – although she was happy that I was doing what I wanted to do, she was also sad that she was going to be so far from me.”

 Mountaineering

“I remember being a kid and going to climb a mountain with cousins. I wanted to go to the peak, but they said it was too dangerous. That’s when I was like, ‘Why can’t I climb mountains?’ That started my ‘climbing-mountain bug.’”

In high school, Kakiko made friends with other people who like the outdoors and got really into mountain biking. Kakiko’s first trip to the United States was in 2003 to visit a biking friend who had moved to the East Coast.

Kakiko moved from his town to Guadalajara to study electronic engineering at university. While there, Kakiko joined the Alpine Club: Club Alpino De Instituto De Ciencias, which was started by a priest who loved to climb mountains. Older experienced mountain climbers in the club impart knowledge and skills to the younger generation, and together they climbed challenging mountains.

Dreams

Kakiko always dreamed of going to Alaska to climb Denali, and in 2005 he fulfilled this dream – an experience that left him longing to return. Kakiko loved the mountains and the snow, and he was very impressed with how the United States manages its resources through its national parks. 

After graduating in 2006, the Alpine Club did a massive road trip from Guadalajara, through Canada and into Alaska. They drove during the night and went sightseeing during the day.

“It was a wakeup call. I really wanted to be up north. The more north we drove, the friendlier people were.” 

Desk Job

Kakiko tried working in electronic manufacturing for five years in Mexico. The whole five years he dreamed of moving to Alaska and climbing. Friends he used to climb always asked him when he was leaving. Girlfriends he had at that time, knew that moving to Alaska was always on his mind. He became sick of his stressful job and asked his boss to fire him, hoping to get some severance. He didn’t, so Kakiko kept working.

Moving to Alaska

Finally, in 2010, at age 27, a Mexican consulate opened in Alaska and was looking for someone good with computers, so Kakiko applied. They were surprised that he wanted to move to Alaska and hired him.

“I really like the snow. I don’t know why I like to climb mountains? It’s like a suffer-fest but it’s really appealing. I feel safe and more stable there.” (audio below)

Kakiko chose to get a tattoo of the snow – a symbol of both his inspiration and his passion. He shared his idea of snowflakes combined with a person snowboarding through snowy trees with an artist in Guadalajara who did the tattoo.

“It’s funny because a lot of people ask me, ‘Where did you get the snowflakes?’, and I’m like, ‘a guy in Mexico did it.” (audio below)

Adjusting

Kakiko found the formal work environment at the Mexican consulate in Alaska challenging. It was strange to be working for a government he wasn’t in favor of while growing up.

“It required a big change of mentality. I’m an idealistic person, and I try to follow my ideals. If I don’t like something, I try to change it.”

He found the process of adapting to this new culture to be an adventure, but hard lacking friends and English skills. Before arriving in Alaska, Kakiko thought he was proficient in English, but when he tried to speak with people after arriving, that wasn’t the case. Working at the Mexican consulate and speaking Spanish all day didn’t help Kakiko in learning English.

“It wasn’t until I started skiing, snowboarding, dating people, and socializing more with native speakers, that I became more comfortable with speaking English. I still don’t feel entirely comfortable, but I’m getting there.” 

Assumptions

A lot of people don’t understand what life in Alaska is like.

“There are people who think I live in an igloo or ride polar bears to work. Everything is extreme up here – the weather changes a lot, people change a lot, accidents can be really extreme too. Everybody thinks I moved up here and I’m living the dream. No. I still have personal problems, life situation problems – I am just living in a colder place. It’s still tough; I still have to work a lot, get sick, worry about bills and taxes.”

Since 2015, when he got his first green card and left his job at the consulate, Kakiko has been doing seasonal work so he can have the summers off to explore the Alaskan Range. He is working three jobs: bartending at one restaurant, bussing tables at another, and working in the office at the Alaska Avalanche School which provides certification in avalanche safety.

Knowing little about avalanches before moving to Alaska – Kakiko has seen them while driving, skiing, and climbing the Alaskan Range.

“It’s not just playing in the snow, so I need to be aware. I try to be as safe as possible.”

Loss

Kakiko and his friend Daniel started climbing together at Club Alpino De Instituto De Ciencias, and together in 2006, they climbed Wyoming’s Grand Teton. Daniel’s skills progressed rapidly. According to Kakiko, he became “the best complete climber in Mexico in the last 20 years. He was a great alpinist, strong rock climber and a great human being, who was following his passions”.  In 2012 Daniel and another friend came to Alaska to climb Denali. Kakiko hosted them and got a celebratory beer with them when they finished. “They gave me this photo [above] of them getting to the summit. I always keep it with me.”

In the summer of 2018, Daniel came to climb the Cassian Ridge in Denali. Kakiko saw him in the 14th camp, and when he got sick, Kakiko gave him some medicine. That was the last time he saw Daniel.

“I got the news that he died in a rappel in Artisan Ratu Mountain in Peru. They were rappelling, and a serac fell from the mountain and hit him. He was a really good friend of mine.” (audio below)

Mexico

“It’s a tradition in climbing that you mark your gear with something so when you climb with other people, and the gear mixes, you know what gear is yours. I put three tapes on my gear – the colors of the Mexican flag [photo above].” 

Kakiko misses Mexico’s food, his close circle of friends, and his mom. She came once to visit in 2011, but “she never came back because it’s too cold for her.” Kakiko has seen her a few times since then in warm California. 

“I always try to uphold the stereotype that people have over here. I have really dry humor. The wrestling culture is fun in Mexico. Everybody thinks that all wrestling in México is like ‘Nacho Libre.’ I try to exaggerate sometimes, so I keep a wrestling mask around. I find it funny.” (audio below)

Kakiko keeps this necklace [above] he bought from an indigenous community in Mexico with him in Alaska, a place where he feels like the indigenous people have a stronger voice.  

“I feel like some of the art and the native cultures in Mexico are being isolated. When I moved up here, the native communities are stronger, and they fight for their rights and culture. It would be a highlight for Mexico to keep those cultures alive.” (audio below)

Immigration

Kakiko wishes more people understood how complicated the process is to immigrate to the US, in particular, Alaska.

“It takes a lot of time and effort if you want to do things correctly. When you try to get jobs, it’s really hard. In a place like Alaska, the priority is the locals, and if you are a minority, it’s harder to find jobs.” 

Since the 2016 election, Kakiko has noticed when it comes to the bureaucracy around immigration, “everything is taking longer, and they are making it harder.”

“I started my renewal process for my green card two years ago, and it’s taking a lot of time and effort to get it. I’m still getting letters and extensions and more requests for more evidence and all of that.”

Kakiko’s first green card came through his previous marriage. The immigration officials now want him to prove that the marriage was legitimate – and since they didn’t have any kids or a house, that is proving complicated.

“If you want to do things ‘the right way’, you can spend a lot of time doing that. I have been here for eight years, and I don’t feel a lot of stability in my life. It’s unstable, and you have to plan your life accordingly. Try to move forward, but you don’t know what’s going to happen.” (audio below)

Future

In the future, Kakiko wants to become an American citizen, join the park service to train others, do search-and-rescues, and help preserve Alaska’s natural beauty. When he isn’t working, Kakiko would like to be outdoors in the mountains, guiding others.

#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.