Satu, dua, tiga…

This past Friday was our final day of Refugee Youth Summer Program here at Heartland Alliance- a day filled with many emotions, from exuberant pride at the growth and confidence of our kids, to humbling gratitude at the opportunity to work with them each day, and finally the acute sadness that accompanies difficult goodbyes.

For the last six weeks, I’ve waited in front of the Howard Jewel-Osco in Rogers Park for our youth to come out to summer program, based this year around the theme “Every Voice Matters”  (“camp” is not used by Heartland due to its potentially retraumatizing connotations). Kids between 5-15 years old from countries such as Syria, Eritrea, Burma, and Central African Republic- many of whom are relatively recent arrivals to the United States- are invited to summer program as an opportunity to build relationships, promote familiarization with their greater Chicago community, assist with English language acquisition, and provide a trauma-informed space to process experiences in a safe and supportive environment.  Each day, myself and fellow Heartland staff hop on public transit with our “Howard Crew” kids to go meet up with the rest of our 40+ person summer program group- rotating daily between engaging in planned activities, heading to the beach, facilitating support groups, playing soccer with other refugee resettlement agencies, and participating in field trips in the Chicago area.

Baking cookies in pizza box solar ovens for “science day,” which I had the opportunity to coordinate and lead. Our word of the day was “experiment;” we also made DIY lava lamps and slime!

Throughout the summer, I often found myself counting to three (as done in Malay at the beginning of this post).  Sometimes this was done silently to myself, accompanied by a deep breath on a jam-packed rush hour bus with 20+ tired out children in tow who “are sitting down, we promise!” (as they stand in the middle of the bus aisle); during others, it was yelled with enthusiasm when leading a group game of four corners. I‘ve used it to de-escalate conflict, navigate passionate outbursts of emotion, and learn new languages from our participants. As I prepare to head to Malaysia come January, I’ve been especially privileged to be able to start learning Malay from some of our Rohingya girls, and turned these numbers into a game with one participant- for every new number or phrase she taught me in Malay, I would teach her one in English. Whenever something happened that made her sad, I’d start counting as fast I could in Malay (always messing up), which usually provoked a laugh or smile even on difficult days.   

It’s fairly intimidating to show up to work everyday knowing that you’re engaging with kids who are braver, kinder, and more intelligent than you’ll probably ever be. The youth that I’ve had the privilege of growing close with this summer are quite literally some of the strongest kids in the entire world- coming from backgrounds of persecution and oppression only to enter a country that continues to place their identities under attack. A country where they are given next to nothing (and are actually forced to undertake debt just to arrive here- refugee families take out loans to cover their own airfare) but must integrate into a society that overall rejects their unique cultures, languages, and religious backgrounds as “unamerican” and further marginalizes based on skin color. A country who only provides around $1000 per family member to start an entirely new life (think about how this compares to cost of living in the city of Chicago) with an administration that is actively cutting funding for needed social services, ironically requiring many families to move to areas of heightened violence; oftentimes the very thing they seek to escape. Our participants come into a nation that overall does not value the skills and educational backgrounds of the refugees who enter it and incorrectly equates intelligence with english language proficiency, prompting refugees to work multiple low paying jobs at once to make ends meet, all while stigmatizing these individuals as a “threat” (even though it takes years and countless screenings to legally obtain refugee status) and victim-blaming these same individuals for “burdening” one of the wealthiest nations in the world (even though refugees have no personal say in where they are resettled and actually pay more money back in taxes than they will ever receive from the federal government).

Our phenomenal Youth and Family Services team, who are constantly lifting one another up with their wisdom, support, and of course food

And yet, despite all this and so much more, our kids arrive each day with the ability to laugh genuinely, advocate for one another, care deeply for those around them, and ask critical questions of the world in which they live. It’s quite frankly a resilience unlike any other, and I look up to each of them immensely.  Given all that I’ve learned from these individuals, I was kidding myself when I thought that I could do tearless goodbyes. And when it was time to leave (and the presumed adult teacher version of Miss Emily was trying hard, but unsuccessfully, not to lose it), it was my turn to hear a “satu, dua, tiga…” coming from my ten-year-old friend.