[00:00:00] Only in America. Only in America. Only in America. Only in America. Only in America. Only in America. Only in America.

Ali [00:00:19] This week. What it’s like to escape violence in your home country, only to be met with racism in another.

Abdi [00:00:26] When I landed in Logan airport on the evening of August 11, 2014, it was a — well. Michael Brown was killed, of course, a few hours ago at the time. Black Lives Matter was just emerging that I. That side was not visible to me at all.

Ali [00:00:43] From the National Immigration Forum. I’m Ali Noorani. This is only in America.

Ali [00:01:02] Immigrants from all over the world come to the United States to seek a better life, better job opportunities. The guarantee of political and religious freedom. The hope to give their children a chance to succeed. But for all of America’s promise, the everyday realities of racism in this country make the quest for a better life more complicated for immigrants who are black. Immediately upon arriving in the U.S., these immigrants are perceived with a new identity that touches nearly every facet of their life. That of a black person in the United States. Distinct national or cultural identities are overshadowed by a racial one. And that means facing discrimination and often criminalization. The injustices that come with being black in America, whether native born or newly arrived, should make all of us question our assumptions about the American dream. In fact, in June, after the United Nations Human Rights Council surveyed racial discrimination and police brutality in the United States, Michelle Basili, the council’s high commissioner, stated that police brutality has come to symbolize the systemic racism causing pervasive daily, lifelong generational and too often lethal harm. Now we often speak of America as a beacon of freedom and opportunity, and it has been for millions of people. But America has also been an end of discrimination, of injustice, of violence.

Ali [00:02:32] Yes, this is the land of Barack Obama. Maya Angelou. Thurgood Marshall. Ida B. Wells and so many inspirational black Americans critical to the past, the present and the future of our nation. But the fact is, we are also the land where George Floyd, Breonna Taylor and countless others have been killed at the hands of our police. September is National African Immigrant Heritage Month, an opportunity not just to celebrate and uplift the stories of these immigrants, but to ask ourselves, how can we continue the conversation on immigration and blackness in a way that moves us to a better understanding and to action?

Ali [00:03:22] We want to hear from you. What do you want to hear more about? Only in America. Please do me a favor and take our two minutes or that immigrationforum.org/podcast. We really appreciate your feedback.

[00:03:35] Support for the National Immigration Forum comes from the Carnegie Corporation of New York, supporting innovations in education, democratic engagement and strengthening international peace and security. And from humanity united. When humanity is united, we can bring a powerful force for human dignity.

[00:03:52] Here’s what you’ll hear on a new podcast called A Better Life. Great stories of immigrants grappling with the meaning of America during the coronavirus pandemic and immigrant elders offering humor and advice for the rest of us, trying to make it through these difficult times at a better life. The host and virtually all the reporters are immigrants or the children of immigrants. A better life comes from feet in two worlds. Winner of multiple awards for journalism about and by immigrants. Listen to a Better Life. Wherever you get your podcasts.

Ali [00:04:27] My guest this week is Abdi Nor Iftin. He recently released a young adult version of his Best-Selling memoir Call Me American. Abdi grew up in Somalia, where he grew up loving American culture, a passion that became a risk amid the rise of a repressive government regime. He began a radio dispatch about his daily life in Somalia, connecting Americans to the realities that he faced. Through this connection, he ultimately was able to immigrate to the U.S.. Now, Abdi has always loved American culture, but was only after moving here to begin to understand the complicated, painful realities of racism in the U.S.. Abdi and I spoke about improving the visibility and accessibility of black immigrant stories and his advice to nonblack folks who want to be better advocates for their black and immigrant neighbors.

Abdi [00:05:18] I grew up in Somalia in the early years of the United States Army intervention, which sort of became a world mission to save the starving kids. So it was about some of the eight million kids that were starving at the time, and I was one of them. But I have made it through. My sister did not.

Abdi [00:05:37] So the story sort of begins with the loss of everything that we owned.

Abdi [00:05:45] And with that, we processed, including our house and our property and food and, you know, jewelry and all that. My mom had in early 1991 with the war and then growing up sort of not really being drawn into the war itself, but finding a motivation and hope and dreams, you know, out of the misery, out of rubble of the city, which in this case was movies that I had access to go in, that I was able to see multiple times per movie. And then and then I became sort of like an assistant to the lady who was running this little movie, movie theater. And when I say a movie theater, we’re not talking about the kind of fancy ones we have here in the U.S. or one of those vast nations.

Abdi [00:06:30] This this one was a tin roof shack, sort of like framed and square then, you know, on the top. It was it was a roof that was corrugated.

Ali [00:06:41] And this was in Mogadishu.

Abdi [00:06:43] This was in Mogadishu. There were I think the biggest challenge was in 2006 when I turned 20 on Somalia had become an Islamic state. Al Shabab ran over and they basically uprooted out anything that they found to be an evil creation or as they called it, you know, the evil movement, including movies and music and, you know, hanging out with one man. And it’s like everything that kept me going had basically been criminalized on, you know, being intruded out. And then it came down to like the way I dressed, the way I walked away, I talk and the nickname and and all that. And those were the realities that kicked in. I realized for this to work, it’s not this is not the right place, you know. So that that was one thing that pushed me so hard to really want to get out as much as I could. And I think as we talk about immigration and, you know, population movement today, I think that the world needs to understand that. I mean, it’s it’s sort of like sad that we assume people are moving leaving their countries just because they choose to do so. It’s definitely not. You know, sometimes things get so hard and that we don’t want to be what local authorities are trying to get us into. So we’re trying to save our lives by getting out and trying to, you know, make the best of our lives, opportunities out there. And so to me, it was saving my life as well as, you know, finding the opportunities and the tools that I needed to use to get to where I am today. And so it’s been a very, very difficult and long journey.

Ali [00:08:18] And then through what program were you able to immigrate from Somalia?

Abdi [00:08:24] I got into audio diary before I was able to leave. I didn’t have any network at all outside of Somalia except my brother, who was himself a refugee and stranded in the world’s largest refugee at the time in Dadaab, Kenya.

Abdi [00:08:42] But when I mean, the luckiest day of my life, I think was when I was there for, you know, haven’t taken a shower for three months or so. And I run into a journalist who basically is from Texas and hanging out on the streets of Mogadishu and taking photos of the buildings, you know, on fire. And I waved and started communicating with him basically in English that I have entirely gathered from watching movies. And that was one big opportunity. And, of course, a risk taking as well, because his bodyguards could have shot me on the spot. They definitely pointed all their AK 47 on my face until he said, OK, I want to talk to this young man because I need the stories.

Abdi [00:09:27] And then he and I chatted and he took the story and published it on The Atlantic. Then a local podcast located in North Carolina at the time called The Story, had sort of read the piece. And they reached out to the journalist and they wanted to connect with me. And then I was able to do sort of like a daily diary on myself and my family and my friends and the neighborhood.

Abdi [00:09:52] You know, things have really been pretty tight. So I you know, I send out those stories and that’s how the network began.

Abdi [00:09:59] Audiences, Americans who were in their kitchen, hanging out, fixing their breakfast or dinner, were able to hear my voice on or of one of those family is one that would become my sponsoring family. Eventually, they live in Maine, where I am right now. So it’s kind of been more like.

Abdi [00:10:17] The way I see this is like building a house. You know, I thought I build a base by basically taking the greatest risks of my life.

Abdi [00:10:25] And then everything else kind of fell on top. You know, pieces came together.

Abdi [00:10:30] You know, it started from doing audio diary to connecting with Americans and connecting with more of them and eventually building a team that called themselves Team Abdi.

Abdi [00:10:41] It was about nine Americans, including professors and aid workers and doctors, you know, who have basically taken up responsibility for themselves to say we’re going to have to save this young man. So we going to have to raise funds for him to get out of Somalia. And I got into Kenya in March 2011 thanks to their help.

Abdi [00:11:03] I was on a flight and I landed in Uganda since Kenya was not allowing Somalis to directly land in Kenya. So I smuggled myself midnite into Kenya from the Ugandan border. It was one of those like National Geographic documentaries, you know, where kind of spooky and you have to tip toe and avoid any movement. And so, yeah, that’s how I that’s how I sort of like, got into Kenya.

Abdi [00:11:29] And then next day, I showed up at the United Nations High Commission for Refugees at the gate and said, here I am, I’m a refugee and I want my name registered in the document, in the database. And so that’s how I did it.

Abdi [00:11:44] I really think that the combination of movies and then later hip hop, which was basically something that pretty much, you know, was like the sound of on the street. You know, I mean, you could hear young man really, really interested in hip hop. We didn’t even know what the lyrics were on. So we all got into it. And it’s sort of like built in my head a way of imagining that America that that I live today, you know, the America that has opportunities for anybody who wants to be anything. And so I looked at, you know, these young black men and women sort of like enjoying. I mean, yeah, I know the lyrics were so hard, but I didn’t understand them. But the visual part of it was, you know, such such a life. You know, the clean roads, the cars they drive, you know, the clothes that they wear, you know, the malls that they walk into. You know, the lights that are out there. You know, everything that showed up or we’re seeing in the movie or in the music was not anything that I was able to have access to at all in Mogadishu. So I as a kid, it really added up to my dream and my desire to call myself American and be able to migrate to the United States. I mean, I could say as a kid, I had no idea where America was on the map. I stood on one of those rocks in Mogadishu. I lived like half a mile down from the beach and I looked across the blue Indian Ocean. And I might have imagined, you know, it’s somewhere out there, you know, maybe if I become a good swimmer, I can I can get across this ocean and maybe I can get there, you know, until I sort of grew up and realized, no, it’s about twelve thousand miles away from here. It’s not anywhere near. And. You know, to get there, you just have to go through this immigration process and. And I think in my twenties, I’ve really gotten into realizing the bureaucracy part of it. The immigration that the the difficulties of in the United States, for instance, two times that I had been denied to come to the U.S. on a student visa just basically because I was a refugee.

Ali [00:14:00] Tell me about the day that you arrived in the US.

Abdi [00:14:04] The way I described in my book is more like visiting the moon. Right. It it it is this place that I.

Abdi [00:14:14] Probably have given up many times since I didn’t have any. The way that many Somalis come to the US was either refugee process or family sponsorship. So I didn’t have either was what was not working for me when I landed in Logan Airport on the evening of August 11, 2014. It was a. Michael Brown was killed, of course, a few hours ago at the time on Black Lives Matter was just emerging. But that side was not visible to me at all. What I imagine was walking around the airport, I was wondering if gravity was was pretty much same or if I if I had to fall on one side, you know, or like visiting the moon. And it was so thrilling. It was incredibly exciting. And I think the smell was super strong. You know, I’ve never smell anything like that, just the freshness of it. The sight. I felt like I just had an eye surgery. Everything looked so brand new. Everything looked so clean.

Abdi [00:15:12] And so I couldn’t restrain myself. You know, it was just really, really, really exciting. And I didn’t loop through that through the excitement like what was going to happen next. But I enjoyed the moment as it was the best. And then when the officer sort of signed my documents and I had put my thumb on it and she said, welcome to United States, your green card is gonna come home. You know, those were the words that really rang in my in my head because for the first time in my whole life, at the age of twenty nine there, I was legally staying in a country. Legally.

Abdi [00:15:48] Right.

Abdi [00:15:48] It was not anymore a refugee. It was not more like state-less. So I was living in one of the countries that whose democracy is working and that has huge influence in the way the world is shaped at the moment. And it’s my country of dream on, you know, on a green card. A permanent resident. And it’s a path to citizenship. So it was truly, truly exciting. And I was, you know, out of control in some cases that I have to ignore the breaking news of Michael Brown being murdered and all that. I know it catches up with me later. But to describe that day was just so exciting.

Abdi [00:16:29] It must be such an incredible space to come to us. Number one.

Ali [00:16:32] But then, like you said, kind of the events that transpired on that same day or same few days do that, not just catch up with you, but I think they’ve caught up with the country.

Ali [00:16:42] So if you don’t mind, let’s talk a little bit about that and what it has been like to be a black American in the US who’s now a naturalized citizen.

Ali [00:16:52] But what is that experience been like? Anything like what you expected?

Abdi [00:16:56] No, it’s not. It’s nothing that I expected at all. I let’s go back. Last three years or so, since the US has its, you know, its presidential election, 2016, you know, I felt like America had taken its mask off. And brand new face comes up. That’s the way I could describe it. You know, it’s it’s it’s so divided racially. The racial injustice is, you know, being a black immigrant man in the United States today. Let’s not even talk about the deep, deep, deep travel ban on Somalis. One of them, the immigration, the rhetoric that came from the White House towards immigration and refugees. And, you know, we had the president himself visit Portland, Maine, where I am, and things that he said towards the Somalis that provoked anger and frustration within his base. You know, those were my sort of like, really anger, frustration. But now we have let George Floyd and Jacob Blake, you know, continue. Right. Like, the names are just you can you can mention them all day long. Breonna Taylor and move on. So like I said, it feels like the mask is off here. Here is a new phase. And I am, of course, I think, like so many Americans, completely unhappy and nervous to where we’re going with this. The the rallies that have happened seems like it’s falling on deaf ears. You know, I don’t see pretty much anything that that has to be done to save our lives as a black man. So when I drive these days a New England area, since I enjoy driving because I have a free. That’s one of the freedoms that I have in this country to go to places, you know, visit friends and all that. But I am consciously present. I’m not, you know, like every which means every mile that I cover the police is in my head probably more than 20 times, because, you know, I worry that something could happen to me. I worried that I could, you know, be suspected of somebody they’re looking for. I mean, just because, you know, that’s the way the dark skin is, is sort of like I’ve seen in some places. And so I don’t deserve that heart attack. Do I deserve the freedom to drive around peacefully and enjoy, since this is what I fought for for a long time? But somehow with all the nightmares that that I went through, with all the PTSD and the panic attacks that I suffer from, from my childhood and teenage days and escape in Somalia, just because somebody wanted me to be like them or otherwise, you know, the other option was to be murdered. And in Kenya, the police who randomly picked immigrant refugees and handcuffed them and taken them to prison and let them out because we paid money we don’t deserve. Anything like that in the U.S. you know, I was hoping that we should just leave our our normal life, that we should, you know, what our backgrounds and the things that we have been we’ve been through in the past must just be the past. Not not to be present, but sometimes I find the fear is this is real and is present. And it worries me so much because I don’t know what’s going to happen next. I don’t know where we’re going to go from here. So I somehow worry that as a nation, as a society, we’re not really doing enough to safeguard the blood lives in this country.

Ali [00:20:36] So as you have gone through your time in the US, you know, become a Mainer.

Ali [00:20:42] Do you feel like the immigrant rights movement has understood the connection between the life of a black immigrant and an African-American?

Ali [00:20:54] And I ask, is it you know, just to kind of put in my perspective on this on the tables. I feel like the immigration movement hasn’t always understood and kind of made that connection. And therefore, you know, we’ve kind of siloed the immigrant rights community or the immigrant community off of separate from these broader issues. But I’m wondering if the issue that is represented in your life, in your lives experience.

Abdi [00:21:16] No, it’s not. I mean, I see the generalization that African African immigrants and African-Americans are to be put in the same box.

Abdi [00:21:25] So basically in the country, as you sign up for things, you know, college or wherever. When we we we we go on fill up forms. You know, there’s usually black or African-American.

Abdi [00:21:37] You know, there are stats lashed at that divides it. There’s no African, African. And then honestly, why do I. Out of a certain. Become African. When I come to this country, when I was in Africa, I was not an African. You know, we were proud of identifying ourselves by our nationalities. In Somalia, it was just by tribe. That’s how we go by Africans. Huge. Probably three times the size of the United States. Now, here we go. You know, you come here now, all of a sudden you are an African-American or just basically black skin color. So this this are all so new to me. And I think the immigrant movement don’t really pay that much attention and sort of like dividing or building the wall that to them, they’re painting the same color on all of us. Just because, you know, we we basically have that same dark skin color. And it’s kind of sad to see that way somehow, because when I play soccer with my other African friends, we don’t speak the same language. We don’t really have the same culture. We don’t understand each other in so many ways. So they they sometimes are as far as a white native born, you know, should be like you eat lobster. I don’t get it, you know. And then in Nigeria, they have their own kind of meal that they do or music that they go with and that I’ve never experienced in my whole life. Or the dialect. The language. So it’s it’s all a learning. But if we all become just one people in the face of the immigrant movement, you know, it’s kind of sad that not only that, we also have to be identified in the same space. I don’t really see the movement trying to sort of like divide and tell the stories each way.

Ali [00:23:27] But then there’s something. You’ve talked about this a little earlier, I think. But the way the an officer we’ll see you and an African-American there will see you outwardly the same. So there are just you know, there are different parts of the system that see the communities the very same way. So I guess what I’m struggling with here is like, do we need to be doing things differently? Do we need to be thinking about things differently? Do we need to be having this conversation about racial justice and immigration differently? Or do we just have to continue to just kind of move through this really difficult gray area?

Abdi [00:24:03] No, we need to have a conversation both on immigration and racial justice in the country. First of all, like you just mentioned, Officer, it’s not going to read you know, me as an immigrant is not going to say how he’s an immigrant. He’s not an African-American. We’re the same. Right. When I run around the neighborhood where I live, nobody the driver or the person eating their ice cream on the side of the couch, they’re not gonna say, oh, he’s here is an African immigrant. They’re not going to say that because he doesn’t say on my face. So the conversation should basically be, first of all, let’s be educated and informed on the differences of, you know, the immigrants who immigrated to United States recently. Last 20 years or so who are black came from Africa or probably parts of Southern America as well, and those who are African-Americans in this country. Victims of the biased justice in the country, which we also become victims quickly. Right. The moment we got into here. Right.

Ali [00:25:03] Right.

Abdi [00:25:03] So I think this conversation should be had. And I’m I’m really hoping that somebody brings together the African-Americans and African African immigrants and that we should talk because it’s important to listen to each side. I may not be able to tell my story as a young African-American men work because they would say, I grew up in Queens, New York. And this is what I experienced. No, I did not experience that. So I have not I’ve no idea. I can’t connect to that story unless you tell me that story. You know, and I went to hear it. But all I have is to tell you my survival story growing up in Somalia, falling in love with America, completely blind by the racial division in the country. I wasn’t seeing that because they don’t show it in the movies. Right, right. Right. So here I am. I was educated into the American way of life that way. And then I moment I got in here. It’s a different story. Now I have to read about Martin Luther King, Frederick Douglass and all the movements, you know, that have really stood up. But it had you know, it hadn’t really brought any justice at all or it had the black community safe. So now the way I live is if the African-American community are being threatened, we are also threatened. If the justice system is biased against them, it also is biased against us because it doesn’t separate us. But then we also have a different background. So I think there should be a in-depth conversation that we need to have to talk about how this is a crucial part of, because we for those of us with dark skin who moved to us, we part of this nation, we participate and we belong becoming citizens were voting, but we also speak our other language. We we eat our food. We you know, we’re hanging out and connecting with our communities. You know, we live in a small, small neighborhood, tightly connected. And we’re just, you know, basically doing whatever we can to survive in the country. So we’re not crying or giving up. So there are the last few years or so, so many people of dark skin who were born outside of the United States have run for office this year and gotten in. You know those. Ilhan Omar is one of them she’s from Somali. She does not identify ourselves as an African-American. But, you know, I think some people do. She tells her stories basically the same way that I do survive the civil war, moved out with our family and came to a refugee camp. And eventually, I was very lucky to move to the U.S.. I don’t see any conversation happening, in fact. So I wish I could see that something.

Ali [00:27:33] You had done an interview with The Boston Globe earlier this summer.

Ali [00:27:36] You talked about her speaking at BLM events. You know, so what is your your message these days at a Black Lives Matter event?

Abdi [00:27:45] So when I go to Black Lives Matter events, basically I am, you know, going there with all the anger, frustration. I mean, the cops are shooting black people out of all the events that I spoke. I pretty much spoke my experience of knowing oppression and being dragged around by the cops.

Abdi [00:28:05] But it’s also unacceptable that America is the way it is today.

Abdi [00:28:13] That, I shouldn’t wake up every morning fearing for myself that I would say the chances of me going back home is way less than convert to my neighbor who has a white skin. Right. So and I think that’s a reality today. And that should not be fair to protect ourselves and our lives. It’s important that we rally. It’s important that we raise our voices, because I think sometimes that’s one way to get attention from those authorities that we want to be able to jump into action, hopefully. But I don’t know if this will all end while I’m still around, but maybe we can now keep this going so that maybe the next generation, those who will be born in the next few years, have to grow up in an environment where they feel safe. As much just, you know, the neighbor who has a different skin. I think the motivation that I get in to speaking of these issues is pretty much that I never expected. Moving to the United States that I would be going out on rallies and protesting because black men and women are facing threats in this country. And the fact that they could be shot. When I talk to my mom, you know, if she asks why I’m safe and I remember the night that I left Kenya before I came to the U.S., I told her, you’re not gonna hear from me complaining, oh, you’re going to hear from me sending you money and me working hard and enjoying my life. That’s basically what I said. You know, I. I know I pretty much underestimated it, but the truth is really different on the world’s watching. My friends are connecting with me from all over the world, just asking what’s going on? Why are they killing you? Are you safe? Things like that. It’s hard to respond to those questions. It’s hard to explain anything to my mother. You know, it’s. Hard to say. I can’t say I’m safe, but I can’t also say just hiding. You know, so it’s pretty much to say, I don’t know if I’m safe or not. It’s an issue of I don’t know. I don’t know what’s gonna happen. Maybe as we hang up on this interview and I’m really trying to enjoy for my going for my run. You never know what happens. You could be a target for somebody. So that is the constant feeling today in America as a black man. I’m not going to say it’s really as bad as it was wherever I came from, Kenya or Somalia, where it was real and that, you know, somebody was coming for you. Here it is. Just sometimes it’s kind of invisible. It’s hard to see. But you also know that something is lurking around on that is not only the cops were dressed in their blue that you have to fear, but it could also be some random white supremacist somewhere who is pretty much programed that we’re taking over. So I feel that maybe that idea itself taking over, that we’re coming here to steal and to, like, spread around and take over, which is something that they hear from their leaders basically. Our president today, you know, could endanger our lives. And those words kind of feel more like a sharp pain sometimes, you know, deep in the heart, because first of all, it’s a betrayal to my American dream. And second of all, it’s a threat.

Ali [00:31:17] And third, it’s not the America that you saw in the movies.

Abdi [00:31:19] No, it’s not.

Ali [00:31:20] One last question for you on the name of the podcast is Only in America. So just send requests to finish this sentence. Only in America. Don’t touch that.

Abdi [00:31:29] Only in America. We can do what we can.

Ali [00:31:41] Abdi Nor Iftin is the author of Call Me American A Memoir. You can learn more about how to visit our Web site. immigrationforum.org/podcast And tune in next week for the final episode of our series on racial justice and immigration. Let us know what you want to hear. And only in America. Take our two minute survey at the immigrationforum.org/podcast. We really appreciate your feedback. And if you like what you hear, subscribe to Only in America on Apple podcast Spotify or wherever you listen to podcasts. Only in America is produced and edited by Joanna Taylor, Magen Wetmore and Becca Wall.

Ali [00:32:17] Our artwork and graphics are designed by Karla Leyja. I’m Ali Noorani and I will talk to you next week.