Blumenthal with refugee students and ESL teacher Alan Gibbons.
Omar Moussa and his parents arrived from Syria two years ago after spending four years in a Jordanian refugee camp. He was 17 — the same age as U.S. Sen. Richard Blumenthal’s father in 1935 when he arrived from Frankfort, Germany, then in the initial throes of the Nazi takeover.
However, Blumenthal’s father in 1935 did not face the heart-breaking political and bureaucratic obstacles to bring over the rest of his family, which are now being confronted by Omar’s remaining siblings in Jordan and Lebanon.
That’s thanks to Donald Trump’s Executive Order(s) 13769/13780, known as “the Muslim” ban.
Omar Moussa with the senator.
That contrast emerged Friday morning when Blumenthal visited a tutorial and mentoring classroom at Wilbur Cross High School, staffed by Cross teachers and Integrated Refugee & Immigrant Services (IRIS)staff, for recently arrived kids from Eritria, Syria, Iraq, among other countries.
Many of those kids, like Omar, are from families struggling to reunite with relatives, but are being hampered not only by “the Muslim ban,” stuck in murky legal limbo.
Thanks to new layers of vetting, “the whole refugee processing pipeline is being dismantled” in a deliberate attempt “to send some people ‘back to Go,’” said IRIS Executive Director Chris George.
Friday’s event, approximately the one-year anniversary of the ban, was initiated by Wilbur Cross student council members to call attention to Sunday’s upcoming IRIS annual fundraising Run for Refugees. Blumenthal, who has participated in the race in years past, said he wanted to “meet with refugee youth separated from family by President Trump’s immoral and unconstitutional travel ban.”
On Dec. 4, the U.S. Supreme Court lifted injunctions put in place by the U.S. District Courts in Hawaii and Maryland. This means that the ban is now in full effect and litigation over its legality is currently pending, according to an assessment provided by Blumenthal spokesperson Elizabeth Benton.
With 11th graders Lana Orabi (in headscarf), from Syria, and Sara Woldu, from Eritrea.
IRIS, the largest of three international refugee settlement groups in the state, welcomed 242 in 2015. The number doubled to 530 in 2016, and then dropping to 343 in 2017. Thanks to the ban and the use of bureaucracy to slow immigration, the group said it expects to welcome no more than 260 refugees this year. “That would be a shame because the interest, resources, and job opportunities are here. People should be coming here, but they’re not,” George said.
IRIS staffer Kelly Hebrank also reported that, all told, in 2017, the group served 1200 people, including not only new arrivals but “refugees who arrived in previous years, and [those in] other categories of immigrants. that is, refugees who initially resettled in another location and then moved on their own to New Haven.
Some of those who are not coming are Omar’s sisters — three in Jordanian refugee camps and one in Lebanon. Omar arrived with his parents and two other siblings two years ago, speaking no English. He told Blumenthal that when his older sister was poised to have their last interview and fly out, the ban put the kibosh on what would have been at least a partial family reunification.
“I’m in the U.S. Senate,” Blumenthal responded. “One of my passions is changing the immigration rules so families can be brought together. Plus, we need to open our arms to people in places like Syria.”
IRIS’s Director of Community Engagement Ann O’Brien said Omar helped support his family in Jordan by working in a restaurant, beginning at age 11. He already speaks English fluently.
Of the senator’s brief visit, he said, “It’s nice. We feel safe that good people care. He likes refugees, everyone.”
Blumenthal moved on to a table where three 18-year-olds — Sara Woldu from Eritrea, Lana Orabi from Syria, and Maryam al-Lami from Iraq — had just finished reading Tennessee William’s play A Streetcar Named Desire.
With the the assistance of Cross English teacher Kristin Mendoza, the girls were writing sentences conveying their responses to Blanche DuBois’s situation. As the girls engaged in discussion with their teacher, and the senator listened, they did some vocabulary building and wrote words like “asylum” and “victim.”
All had been here only a few months and their spoken English was limited. The senator listened and spoke slowly, “It’s hard to get used to. Keep up the good work. We’re really proud of you.”
He visited another table with younger refugee kids, including ninth-grader Awet Yohannes and his sister Kisanet, both from Eritrea, where their native language is Tigrinya. Awet was working with IRIS Education and Advocacy Coordinator Dennis Wilson on changing sentences in English from the singular to the plural. He was doing pretty well, he said, although his favorite subject is math.
Wilson said that IRIS staff and volunteer tutors — about 16 people distributed in seven city schools at various levels — continue to work with kids and their families for at least a year after their arrival. Embedding tutorial and mentoring programs like this one at Cross are limited by funding, said O’Brien.
Which, of course, is one reason for the Run for Refugee event, a major IRIS fundraiser.
Awet, with teacher Dennis Wilson.
Blumenthal and the kids — many of whom like Omar intend to run in the race — gathered for a thumbs-up group picture. Someone asked how to say “cheese” in Swahili.” Apparently no one knew.
Kisanet Yohannis offered the word in Tigrinya for “smile” — mshak — and everyone did.