It had been an incredibly hard week for Hasna. Her loved ones who still lived in Syria were sending word—sometimes over WhatsApp and, more often, through oral messages passed to people outside the country who then conveyed them to Hasna via Facebook messenger—about the threats they faced. She was edgy, shifting her body often. They were frantic and she was too. She told us that she refreshed her Facebook feed over and over—that’s where she found out about Malek’s death, and she was afraid she would see other faces she loved. We could say nothing to make her feel better.
She was crying when she told us, “What if it’s all memories? What if I never get to see them again in this life?”
She felt like one of those ants—fierce and tenacious, she had fought for her home, but she was still tiny. There was nothing she could do against the forces that destroyed her country. Like floodwaters washing away an ant pile, the war had erased her home and scattered everything she had known or loved. The world cared about her less than about an ant swept away by water.
Then I told her about the fire ants we had seen in our backyard a few years back, when a Memorial Day flood overflowed the creek bed around our house. Most of our yard was under at least a foot of water by the time the rain stopped. When we walked out onto the back porch, we noticed an odd red clump in the backyard.
It was a flotilla of fire ants. Until I saw it in our backyard, I had never known that fire ants possessed this particular skill. They have developed an incredible biological ability to create long-lasting rafts that save their entire colony when it is threatened by water. They work together, placing the weakest members on the top. Ants can hold on to one another the same way they climb up walls and trees. They connect to one another, leaving pockets of air between them. Soon the whole group drifts on the surface of the water. These rafts can hold for months. By reaching toward one another, these fierce ants avoid being washed away when disaster comes.
Instead, they float.
Acknowledgments
“Mu Naw” and “Hasna” and their families have opened their lives throughout this process with one goal—for others to know what refugees really go through. I’m grateful for the deeper friendship we’ve built through writing this book. I can never thank them enough for trusting me with their stories.
This book would not exist without the artisans of Hill Country Hill Tribers and the team of people that gathered to address large and small needs in those early years of the Burmese resettlement movement. Out of a desire to hide the identities of the more than thirty artisans who partnered with us, I will have to issue a general “thank you” that feels profoundly insufficient. In addition, Nang and Nan, Dr. Salai Tun Than, Meagan Brown, Jenny Blackmon, Erika Hassay, Terra Brimberry, Holly Fullerton, Chez Dishman, Ashley Luksys, Kelsi Klembara, Scott Warner, Adam Black, and Denise Black were integral to Hill Tribers, the Village Center, and Artreach—the projects that grew out of those years. I’m convinced after those years that Constance Dykhuizen secretly runs the world, or at least that we’d all be better off if she did. I’m eternally grateful to Caren George, who taught me the art of structured flexibility and pairs deep compassion with dark humor better than anyone I know.
Partnering with “Amena” as a translator was one of the most immense gifts of my life; she quickly became one of my dearest friends. Her steadiness, empathy, and perceptiveness shaped this book in incalculable ways. “Natheir Ali” provided me with more connections than I can name, as well as invaluable comprehension of Syrian historical and cultural contexts. I wish I could name each of them publicly, but the tireless Syrian American advocates in Austin who helped newly arrived refugees are heroes. I’m especially in debt to the Syrian American beta readers who helped me hone and shape Hasna’s narrative so that it was accurate, and who allowed me to grieve with them for the destruction of their beloved, singular country.
The caseworkers, English teachers, therapists, advocates, volunteers, and friends surrounding the Austin and national refugee community are fierce. I am grateful to the insights of Russell Smith, Melissa Helber, Erika Schmidt, Lubna Zeidan, Erika Hughes, Aaron Rippenkroeger, Jacqueline Mize-Baker, Meg Erskine, Chris Kelley, Matthew Soerens, and Joanna Mendez through interviews and critiques of early drafts of this book.
Joy Varone generously connected me on many occasions to people for book research, but more importantly, as we tried to make sure that Laila and her little family and other Syrians were safe at various critical moments in their journeys. I believe firmly there’s no one on earth Joy couldn’t help within twenty-four hours. Cynthia Bajjalieh in Senator Richard Durbin’s office answered a number of questions when we thought there was a chance Laila and Yusef could be reunited with their family; her thoughtfulness meant a great deal to us.
I loved my time with an Austin-based book club reading an early draft of this book: thank you especially to Kathryn Cantrell, Anna Prendergast, and Staci Woodburn for the attentive notes.
This book simply would not exist without my writing group; Christiana Peterson, Stina Kielsmeier-Cook, D. L. Mayfield, Kelley Nikondeha, and Amy Peterson have wrestled with me through years of figuring out how to tell these stories well. I cannot imagine my writing life without them. I went to the Collegeville Institute twice, once at the beginning and once at the end of the manuscript-writing process, and I’m profoundly grateful for that space and the people I was with there. This book is better for the incisive criticism and profound encouragement of Lauren Winner, and the brilliant mind, wry wit, and endless passion of Kate Bowler.
Kurt Heinzelman has provided advice and encouragement in my eclectic career over the years, for which I’m extremely grateful.
Ann Reese, Holly Mock, and Amy Carder forever keep me grounded and give me room to cry or laugh when I’ve needed it most. I’m indebted to smart friends who work through ideas with me, such as Nyssa Wilton, Erin Raffety, Amy Bench, and Corie Humble.
I will forever grieve that Stephanie Odom was not here to see this book finished but I’m a better writer for having known and loved her. This work began, in many ways, with Rachel Held Evans’s support of Hill Tribers and the way she constantly centered marginalized stories. Her loss is incalculable.
My mom loves people so well, and the lessons she taught me through a life of serving others are ones I tried to emulate throughout this book-writing process, as I do every day. Some of my earliest memories are connecting historical and political moments in fascinating ways with my dad; this book draws from the kinds of compassionate insights he taught me to make. I’m deeply grateful to Karen, Randy, Jocelyn, Mark, Jay, Mary Kate, Jared, April, Joel, Cari, Marta, Kyle, Adam, and Rachel, as well as the world’s funniest, most wonderful nieces and nephews: I love you all dearly.
No one has ever enjoyed working with their agent and editor more than I have. This book exists because of the tireless advocacy and insight of the best of all agents, Mackenzie Brady Watson, and the keen mind and unrelenting patience of the best of all editors, Emily Wunderlich. I’m grateful to the entire Stuart Kritchevsky Agency, especially Ross Harris and Aemilia Phillips, and the incomparable team at Viking Books, particularly Emily Neuberger, Sean Devlin, Colin Webber, Ben Patrone, Bel Banta, Alicia Cooper, and Nidhi Pugalia.
To Simone, Gabriella, and Etta: you have never known a time when refugees weren’t some of your closest friends and I have learned so much from watching the way you love people effortlessly and unconditionally. Raising three strong, spirited daughters is one of the greatest joys of my life. I love you.
And to Jonathan: You are the love of my life and the most fascinating person I know. I have no idea at this point where my ideas end and yours begin; your influence is everywhere in this book. Our adventurous life is the only one I can imagine leading.
Notes
PART 1
CHAPTER 1
Mu Naw stood on the landing: The International Organization for Migration is an agency that was established in 19
51 and currently has 173 member states (according to its website, iom.int). While they address a number of areas that affect vulnerable migrants around the world, one of the things they are known for is helping resettled refugees arrive in their new country. Traveling with the blue and white plastic bags featuring the IOM logo is one of the things that many refugees in the United States have in common.
The camp where she had lived in Thailand: Mae La camp is the largest of the refugee camps in Thailand, with a population of around 40,000 refugees, that started in 1984 and was originally intended for 1,000 people. For further reading, see the website of The Border Consortium, an NGO focused on human rights issues in Myanmar, especially their information about the camps along the Thai border (https://www.theborderconsortium.org/where-we-work/camps-in-thailand/).
CHAPTER 2
US lawmakers, with the unprecedented support of constituents across the country: There were exceptions to these views, of course. Throughout these history chapters, as I trace the hegemonic narrative that controlled refugee policy, I’m not mentioning the many opposed views or groups that worked against, within, or around those policies and milieus. American identity is as varied as the millions of individuals who have lived in the country over the centuries; my academic work focuses on the way writers push back against these dominant cultural narratives at every turn. It is outside the scope of my project to identify and trace all—or even most—of those counternarratives, but I want to provide a caveat here and throughout the rest of the book: The history stories I’m telling immediately demand to be contextualized within their sociohistorical moments and there will be multiple exceptions to the broad strokes of my argument. As often as I can, I provide sources for further reading that have informed my thinking and that I hope can provide more depth and complexity, as well as important exceptions and nuances, to the history I tell.
World War II left more than 10 million displaced people: Carl Bon Tempo, Americans at the Gate (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2008), 7.
On June 25, 1948, President Harry S. Truman: The legislation was originally for a two-year period and was extended for another two years in 1950, thus doubling the original 200,000 to 400,000. For further reading on the Displaced Persons Act, see Displaced Persons Act of 1948, S. 2242, 81st Cong. (1948); Atina Grossmann and Tamar Lewinsky, “Displaced Persons,” in A History of Jews in Germany Since 1945: Politics, Culture, and Society, ed. Michael Brenner, trans. Kenneth Kronenberg (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 2018), 57–84; and Kathryn M. Bockley, “A Historical Overview of Refugee Legislation: The Deception of Foreign Policy in the Land of Promise,” North Carolina Journal of International Law and Commercial Regulation 253 (1995), http://scholarship.law.unc.edu/ncilj/vol21/iss1/6.
At the time, the US immigration system: There were critical exceptions, including the Chinese refugees who fled Shanghai; two excellent books about that time period are Helen Zia, Last Boat Out of Shanghai: The Epic Story of the Chinese Who Fled Mao’s Revolution (New York: Ballantine, 2019), and Diana Chang, The Frontiers of Love (Seattle: University of Washington Press, 1956).
But still he pressed Congress: Harry S. Truman, “Annual Message to the Congress on the State of the Union,” 80th Cong. (January 6, 1947).
Every other option was equally impossible: Harry S. Truman, “Special Message to the Congress on Admission of Displaced Persons,” 80th Cong. (July 7, 1947).
The American public listening to Truman: Barack Obama, “Remarks by President Obama at Leaders’ Summit on Refugees,” United Nations, New York, September 20, 2016: https://obamawhitehouse.archives.gov/the-press-office/2016/09/20/remarks-president-obama-leaders-summit-refugees.
Less than ten years before, in 1939: For further reading on the MS St. Louis, see Sarah A. Ogilvie, Refuge Denied: The St. Louis Passengers and the Holocaust (Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 2006), and Gordon Thomas and Max Morgan Witts, Voyage of the Damned (New York: Stein and Day, 1974).
While the refugees sailed, blissfully unaware: Among many sources, I’m especially indebted to Catherine Cassara, “To the Edge of America,” Journalism History 42, no. 4 (2017): 225–38.
Their telegram to President Roosevelt begged: R. Hart Phillips, “Cuba Recloses Door to Refugees; 48-Hour Limit on Offer Expires,” The New York Times, June 7, 1939, 1.
The subheading on the story: R. Hart Phillips, “907 Refugees Quit Cuba on Liner; Ship Reported Hovering Off Coast: Rumor That United States Will Permit Entry Is Spread to Avert Suicides—Company Orders St. Louis Back to Hamburg,” The New York Times, June 3, 1939, 1.
Refugee advocacy groups worked tirelessly: For further reading on Roosevelt’s refugee policies, see Richard Breitman, FDR and the Jews (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 2013); Verne W. Newton, ed., FDR and the Holocaust (New York: St. Martin’s Press, 1996); and Henry L. Feingold, Bearing Witness: How America and Its Jews Responded to the Holocaust (Syracuse: Syracuse University Press, 1995).
As the ship moved toward Europe: “Ship Steams Away to Return Refugees to Reich,” Washington C.H. Record-Herald, June 9, 1939, 8.
More than a month: Ogilvie, Refuge Denied, 175.
But within the year, Nazi troops: Ogilvie, Refuge Denied, 174.
The United States ended World War II: This isn’t to say that the US was the only world leader—not at all—but to acknowledge the framework that was almost ubiquitous in popular and political rhetoric in the country at the time.
It was a message hammered in the 1940s: Television sets were not yet affordable for most people; in 1946, a third of Americans went to the movies at least once a week. See Richard Maltby, Hollywood Cinema (Malden, MA: Blackwell, 1995), 20.
It was in every scene: Stagecoach, directed by John Ford, featuring John Wayne as “Ringo Kid” (Walter Wanger Productions, 1939).
The underlying message of these movies: Following World War II, several groups deeply questioned the fact that, in almost all of the movie portrayals as well as the political examples, the leaders were always white men; the early subversive work that led to the civil rights movement and second-wave feminism was already well under way.
In one film, a cheery newscaster: “United News, Release 166” (Los Angeles: United Newsreel Corporation, 1945), 10 min.
The films asked Americans: “United News, Release 194” (Los Angeles: United Newsreel Corporation, 1946), 9 min.
The camp model provided: Ibid.
“If we don’t help these people now”: “Spotlight Displaced Persons,” The Army-Navy Screen Magazine, no. 2 (Washington, DC: Army Pictorial Service, 1945). Also, I want to acknowledge the incredibly problematic formulation of “one half” of the world being the United States of America and “the other half” being once-Nazi-occupied European nations.
Harrison’s letter belied the chipper tone: Report from Earl G. Harrison to President Harry S. Truman, August 3, 1945, United States Holocaust Memorial Museum, https://www.ushmm.org/exhibition/displaced-persons/resourc1.htm.
The Nuremberg trials were a start: “History of the United Nations,” the website for the United Nations, http://www.un.org/en/sections/history/history-united-nations/.
In 1948, the UN voted: “Convention on the Prevention and Punishment of the Crime of Genocide,” December 9, 1948, 78 U.N.T.S. 277: https://treaties.un.org/doc/publication/unts/volume%2078/volume-78-i-1021-english.pdf. Article 1 states: “The Contracting Parties confirm that genocide, whether committed in time of peace or in time of war, is a crime under international law which they undertake to prevent and to punish.” Article 2 states: “In the present Convention, genocide means any of the following acts committed with intent to destroy, in whole or in part, a national, ethnical, racial, or religious group, as such:
“(a) Killing members of the group;
“(b) Causing serious bodily or mental harm to members of the group;
“(c) Deliberately inflicting on the group conditions of life cal
culated to bring about its physical destruction in whole or in part;
“(d) Imposing measures intended to prevent births within the group;
“(e) Forcibly transferring children of the group to another group.”
The 1951 Refugee Convention: “Convention and Protocol Related to the Status of Refugees,” United Nations Commissioner for Refugees, July 28, 1951: https://www.unhcr.org/3b66c2aa10.
A filmmaker captured: “DP Neg 237 Reel one-two,” (Bremerhaven, Germany: US Holocaust Memorial Museum, gift of Julien Bryan Archive, 1947), 7 min., https://collections.ushmm.org/search/catalog/irn1003638.
The October 20, 1948, headline: Harold Faber, “813 Refugees Sail for the U.S. Today,” The New York Times, October 21, 1948, 13.
CHAPTER 4
No one came: Mu Naw no longer had an RST caseworker by the time I met her six months after her arrival and no longer remembers her name, so I was unable to verify this part of the narrative. I feel the need to defend other caseworkers there, some of whom I’m still friends with, in saying that leaving clients for several days was not even close to a normal practice for RST, at that time or any other. In fact, caseworkers are supposed to return within twenty-four hours of dropping a client off. None of my resettlement agency beta readers could believe this part of the story—they’d never heard of anything like it. My educated guess is that Mu Naw was under the care of an overworked caseworker and that her family slipped through the cracks in those first few days. This incident points to the dangers of a fluctuating system—too many high-needs arrivals at once, like what began to happen when the US resettled people from protracted refugee situations in Myanmar, Burundi, and Somalia in 2006 and 2007—could leave dangerously overworked caseworkers without enough resources to sufficiently help their clients. A steady program with experienced caseworkers benefits everyone involved.
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