The Refugee Sewing Society

By THOMAS HARTWELL

CLARKSTON, Ga. -- The Refugee Sewing Society of Clarkston, Georgia operates as a place of belonging and socialization for refugee women first and a business for providing income to those families second, according to Director Lori Smith. The women who participate in the organization are able to socialize and acclimate to their new communities while supplementing their income and helping to provide for their families. What started years ago as one woman at the Clarkston International Bible Church has grown into a self-motivated group, 25-strong.

Clarkston, Georgia: A city of refugees

Two men chat outside of the ATL International Mall in Clarkston, Georgia. Photo by Thomas Hartwell

By THOMAS HARTWELL

CLARKSTON, Ga. – Twenty men packed in a tiny, dimly lit restaurant sit and eat listening, eyes locked on a wall-mounted television blaring crackling audio, to the results of Somalia’s heavily guarded elections in an airbase in Mogadishu. Without looking away from the television, they frantically nod or scowl and shake their heads at each other’s comments, chattering in varying dialects of Somali. The restaurant empties as the election coverage ends, and the group of men sit just outside, crowded around a small, round table, smoking cigarettes and talking politics in a mix of Somali and English, occasionally erupting into bouts of disagreement or laughter.

Abdi Issak and another Somali man, dressed in a baggy, olive drab cargo jacket and beanie, stand just outside the group of bickering men, observing and chatting. Issak, a man in his 60s, respectfully refers to the frail, slender man as “one of the town elders.” Down the sidewalk, men, women and children dressed in long robes, burqa and hijab wander through shops and stop in restaurants, greeting each person as they go. The stores that line the strip display gold jewelry and the deep purples and greens of silken clothing. The signs offer services: wire money, buy insurance, mend clothing, apply for citizenship.

Nearly half of Clarkston, Georgia’s 7,500 residents are refugees, and the ownership of virtually every business on Somali Plaza reflects its diversity. Photo by Thomas Hartwell

Somali Plaza, in Clarkston, Georgia, is a pocket of extreme diversity in an already diverse area of Atlanta. Here, virtually every business is owned by a refugee or descendant of a refugee, and this kind of community, contrary to what some Americans believe, says Issak, is what a city of hard-working citizens looks like.

“Some people, they look at us and they say, ‘Why (do) you take our tax money?’ But since 1993, I’ve never stopped a job. I’m working, I (don’t) get food stamps – maybe three months I got food stamps. The rest (of the time), I said, ‘No, I don’t need it,’” said Issak. “I work hard. I’m 64 years old – still I’m ready to work.”

Issak was born in Baidoa, Somalia, and lived there until the violence of the country’s civil war threatened his life. His work with the U.S. government and its diplomats at embassies early in his career made him a militant target, and in 1990, he was forced to flee his country, leaving his family behind. For six weeks, Issak walked through the African bush, dodging roads from the Somali capital of Mogadishu to the border of Kenya. There he met U.S. foreign workers who took him to the U.S. Embassy in Nyrobi. After nine months, he was able to arrange for his seven children to be sheltered in a refugee camp in Mombasa. Two years later when U.S. forces began lending aid to the war-torn regions of Somalia and Kenya, he and his family were granted their first interview by the U.S. refugee program. Issak was recruited to work with U.S. aid in Somalia for six months, after which, he, his seven children and his sister received a second interview. Months later, in July of 1993, they were granted refugee status in the United States, and settled in Clarkston. Issak and his family are all now citizens.

Since his arrival, Issak has been employed at apartment complexes, churches, various local companies and has worked odd jobs to support his family and send his children to school. Now, all seven of his children are college graduates, pending his youngest daughter’s graduation in May. Issak works as a field manager for The Glitter of Hope Foundation, a local nonprofit that partners with the Somali-American Community Center in Clarkston to assist refugees in their transition to life in a new country.

Abdi Issak (left), through The Glitter of Hope Foundation, gives a car to two Syrian brothers whose family arrived to Clarkston, Georgia in January. Photo by Thomas Hartwell

The community center’s executive director, Omar Shekhey, says Clarkston is full of stories like this and is a city of transcendent, community-wide acceptance and support. Shekhey and Issak, and their two respective organizations, work closely in their efforts to provide services like day care, English classes, mentoring programs and assistance with citizenship applications to incoming refugee families. The families who arrive in Clarkston often have stories of great strife, and when they come to the United States, says Shekhey, their priority is becoming productive and enthusiastic members of their new community. This priority, he says, has been the same for every refugee for decades.

“Refugees have been – always – survivors. They have worked so hard to get where they are today. They have (gone) through horrors. They have seen killings. They have seen suffering,” said Shekhey. “These are people who have survived through all kinds of terrible conditions. Being here is easy for them. They just go to and work and support their family.”

Omar Shekhey, executive director of Clarkston’s Somali-American Community Center. The center serves as a foundation for many refugee families newly settled in the area, providing economic, psychological and moral support. Photo by Thomas Hartwell

In 1980, President Jimmy Carter’s signature on the Refugee Act formalized a process of admitting refugees in humanitarian crisis into the U.S. and provided a system of aid in resettlement into specific communities across the country. Clarkston, says Mayor Ted Terry, was an efficient choice for Georgia. Clarkston has affordable housing, it’s walkable, there are two colleges in the city and public transit is easily accessible. But now, says Terry, not only is the city of Clarkston helping the refugees who settle there, but those refugees are breathing life back into the city.

 

“We have people from all over the world who are used to doing their business and gatherings outside,” said Terry. “So we have an $8 million streetscapes project that’s going to connect all sides of the city through 10-foot sidewalks and pocket parks and things like that. I think you’re going to see a lot more street culture that’s going to come back to life in Clarkston.”

Beyond the economic gain and positive recognition from around the nation, says Terry, Clarkston’s acceptance is representative of what it means for America to truly be a melting pot.

“(Clarkston is) known as the Ellis Island of the South. Many people’s first entry point and experience in America is here in Clarkston. It’s because of that that we have the 40 different nationalities and 60 different languages,” said Terry. “Here in Clarkston, you get to travel the world on a budget.”

This city’s acceptance of diversity and the practice of welcoming those in need, says Shekhey, is what makes it both representative of the American dream and representative of American immigrants.

“America is exceptional, why? Because America is brown, yellow, white and black. When we talk about exceptionalism in America, we talk about community – helping each other,” said Shekhey. “When we come here, everybody is thinking, ‘How can I improve my life? How can I contribute to this great nation? How can I be part of this country?’”