Phoenix as Refuge

phoenixasrefuge
Feb 18, 2018
35 min read

THE FIRST REFUGEE

The first time I ever learned about refugees, I was sitting across from my dear friend Bonnie in an Ethiopian café. It was a stifling summer morning, and I was sipping on a cup of tea and munching on Baklava while Bonnie told me about her work with refugees. She is the Global Outreach director of a local church and a board member of Refugee Highway Partnership, a nonprofit that helps unite various refugee organizations and agencies under one common vision. Bonnie spends most of her days with refugees, doing just about all she can to help them, from advocating for them politically, teaching them English, and even driving them to the grocery store. Bonnie’s bright blue eyes, framed by her blonde bangs and short hair chopped just above her chin, lit up as she spoke of the different individuals and families that she works with.

As Bonnie spoke, a fire was slowly starting to burn in my chest. Call it purpose, fate, or destiny, but something was stirring up inside of me. The joy that Bonnie expressed as she told story after story was something I craved. While I did not understand it fully at the time, serving and loving the refugee community would become one of my life’s biggest passion. But sitting in the café that day, all I knew was that I desperately wanted to be a part of what Bonnie was doing. There was only one problem; I had never met a refugee before. I admitted this to Bonnie, slightly embarrassed but also hopeful that she could help me with my predicament.

“Oh, Chloe,” Bonnie said excitedly, almost at a whisper, “the first refugee that you meet will change your life.”

For me, that refugee was Kigabo.

KIGABO

Kigabo Mbazumutima was born in the Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC). Shortly after the country fought a war to declare its independence, the Congo fell into political crisis and saw the rise of a tyrannical leader and a corrupt regime. As a result, the country struggled to develop, and its infrastructure, healthcare, education, and economy were in decline.

Born into this system, Kigabo was one of eight children in a large, Congolese family. With very little chance of getting an education, an even smaller chance of one day getting a job, and a sever lack of access to adequate social services, Kigabo did not have much to hope for. The weight of his hopelessness came to a peak when one of his beloved sisters died in childbirth. Her death was something that could have easily been avoided if his family has access to basic transportation and healthcare.

His sister’s death opened Kigabo’s eyes to the dismal state of his country. He was saddened by the devastation that wreaked havoc on his family and fellow citizens, all because of the actions of a few elite political leaders. Kigabo was also angered by the stagnant growth of the DRC because he saw how his country could be improved drastically, with just a few small steps. Following the death of his sister, Kigabo was especially aware of the problems within the Congo’s inadequate and unsustainable healthcare system. His grief and frustration culminated until he was pushed to take matters into his own hands; he would become a medical doctor.

Miraculously, Kigabo finished high school and excelled in a pre-medical program at a university in the Congo, where he met and married his wife, Anastasie, a nursing student. His work and determination was so impressive that Kigabo was offered a place in a medical school in Benin. He and his wife moved to West Africa to complete their medical education and both began working as prominent medical professionals.

Then, in 1996, war broke out in the Congo. Following the Rwandan Civil War, the Rwandan-Hutu military fled to Zaire and joined forces with the Zairian armed forces to attack the Congolese ethnic Tutsis in eastern Zaire (Ndikumana and Emizet 2003). The country fell into chaos as a large scale ethnic war swept the nation. As he came home from working in the hospital one day, Kigabo received word that his family had become victims of the massacre. Kigabo’s sister, Rose, was trapped in a death camp, along with her 9 children. After months of unspeakable suffering, Rose and her children were able to escape and flee to the Phoenix, Arizona as refugees, thanks to a camp guard with a guilty conscience and the aid of the International Red Cross.

Kigabo and Anastasie’s hearts broke as they watched their country fall apart from a far. Many of their family members died in the conflict, and the couple felt powerless against this devastating war. They longed to be reunited with their family, but they were banned from returning to the Congo. Almost overnight, their statuses had changed from immigrant medical professionals to refugees. They also now had three small children, who would never get to set foot in their own nation of origin. Adding on to their worries, Kigabo’s sister Rose called them frequently, begging them to come to the United States and help her. Like many refugees, Rose was suffering from PTSD and crippling anxiety and was unable to properly function, let alone raise her children.

Putting family first, Kigabo and Anastasie laid down their education and professions to apply for refugee status and come to the United States. "It was our dream to pursue medical training and for us to go back home to help people, to treat people,” Kigabo said in my interview with him. “So coming here [the U.S.] was like, 'Okay, is all of this idea of making a difference in healthcare going to go away?'” (Mbazumutima and Mbazumutima 2017). The family waited anxiously for three years, until finally, one day, they were on a plane to Phoenix, Arizona.

Kigabo told me all of this as I sat across from him in a Starbucks, dumbfounded and in awe of the tribulations and triumphs of his life. He showed me photos of his sister who had died in childbirth. Old, faded pictures of his entire family in the Congo, standing tall against a background of lush, green rolling hills. Photos of his children and his wife, smiling in front of their new home in West Phoenix. Tears began to well up in my eyes as I imagined what it would be like to be torn from my country, separated from my family, and thrown into a completely new environment with nothing. I was astounded at the profound courage and humility that Kigabo embodied. When he came to the United States, all of his medical credentials and education essentially vanished. He had given up his dreams and aspirations to come to his sister’s aid and provide a better life for his family.

I understood what Bonnie meant; how could I go on living my life in the same way after hearing this story? My life had been changed by meeting Kigabo, and I was going to do something about it. Directly after getting coffee with Kigabo, I went to a Political Science class where the professor gave a lecture on civil wars and non-state actors. My perspective had completely changed. All I could think of was the refugees that had been displaced by all of these conflicts. I realized that day that political science theories, while important and interesting, were not my life’s passion. Refugees were. I began researching refugee agencies, meeting with various leaders in the community, and volunteering with different organizations that served the refugee community.

With this self-discovery came some frustration. As I progressed in my work, the refugee community’s struggles and successes consumed me, and I could not help but talk about it with others. However, so many people that I discussed my interests with were astonished to learn that there were even refugees in Phoenix. The reality is that Arizona has the 4th largest refugee population in the United States and features a wide collection of agencies, nonprofits, and organizations dedicated to the resettlement and success of refugees in the state.

These encounters upset me because I recognized there was a deep divide between the refugee population and the non-refugee population of Phoenix. As someone who is deeply invested in the refugees, I know how important support from the wider community is to a refugee’s success. In order for a refugee to thrive in America, they need the help of Americans who can advocate for them and give them resources to make their adjustment more successful. But, how can Phoenicians advocate for the refugee community if they have no idea that they are here? To combat this problem, the greater community of Phoenix would need to become more aware of refugees within their own city.

I believed that this divide was due to the geographic and economic separation present in the community. Because I realized that I could not single-handedly adjust the geographic and economic disparities of the city of Phoenix, I decided to do the next best thing; increase social ties between the divided communities. I started my thesis project, Phoenix as Refuge, to facilitate this increase in awareness and social ties. My process was rather simple: document refugees and their stories and then make those interviews accessible to the greater Phoenix community. My purpose, however, was significant. I would help make the Phoenix community more aware of refugees in the hopes that this awareness would increase community activism and advocacy for this vulnerable and incredible minority group.

METHODS

When determining my research methods for this project, I knew what I wanted my final result to be; I wanted to connect the non-refugee community the refugee community. To go about doing this, I knew I would need a way to touch people emotionally while also exhibiting factually evidence to explain how refugees take up space and interact in the geographical city. I thought back to how Kigabo’s explanation of his journey deeply moved me and launched me into action. He used storytelling and showed me photos of his family to tell me about his life and share his journey. I decided to do the same.

The research consisted of interviewing refugees and taking their portraits. To begin this process, I sent recruitment materials to various agencies and organizations that work on resettling refugee families and providing them with support. These materials had to be crafted in a very particular way so that individuals did not feel pressured to participate in the study. I also had to be careful not to associate my work with the agencies, and I had to share my recruitment materials with potential participants independently of the agencies. This was done to ensure that individuals did not feel like their relationship with their agencies and case managers would be compromised if they declined to participate in the study. During this process, I saw myself as independent of the agencies. While my project an attempt to advocate for refugees, agencies do not want researchers coming in as advocates. Refugee agencies have their own specific goals, as well as a strong need to prioritize their clients’ safety and privacy, so they must be extremely careful when deciding to let outsiders into their process. Some agencies that I interacted saw how researchers could benefit them and their clients, but others were not so open. I was not there to be the agency’s advocate, but rather an independent and professional entity focused on obtaining data and furthering my research.

Another challenge of creating the recruitment materials was that they had to convey a lot of important information using very basic English, to ensure that non-native English speakers could understand them. Throughout my interviews, refugees consistently said that the language barrier was the hardest part of transitioning to life in the United States. Even in my initial conversation with Kigabo, he talked about how humiliating it was to be a medical doctor but to speak such poor English that the only job he could get was cleaning houses. At the onset of this project, I aimed to be sensitive to this struggle and worked to construct my materials using language that was simple and clear.

When individuals decided they wanted to participate in the study, they were sent consent forms to read over and sign. The forms explained why they were being asked to participate in the study, what the research would consist of, and the potential benefits and risks of the study. The consent form also explained that participants could drop out of the study at any time if they chose to. There was a form for consenting adults, as well as one for minors because I was planning on interviewing families with children. Sometimes, these forms were either emailed to the agencies for them to print and go over with their clients. Typically, when I met with individuals, I brought them the forms had them read them over before we started the interview process. Similar to the recruitment materials, these consent forms had to be crafted extremely carefully in order to appropriately summarize the experiment while ensuring that participants did not feel forced to participate. I also had to keep in mind that I was writing these forms for non-Native English speakers.

For conducting the actual interview, I studied the purpose and practice of fieldwork as a method of research. I came to understand fieldwork as a tradition and a tool of sociological research in which qualitative researcher will go to an unfamiliar location to build relationships with subjects, participate in activities and collective experiences that help them gain knowledge about their environment, and document this information for the purpose of their research[if supportFields]>CITATION Lin111 \p 134 \l 1033 <![endif] (Lindlof and Taylor 2011, 134)[if supportFields]><![endif]. To engage in this fieldwork, I would travel to a refugee’s home or a neutral location in which they felt comfortable. I had a list of questions written to ask all participants. I would start by asking those questions and recording the responses. With the participants consent, I would record the conversation on my phone. If the participant did not want to be recorded, I would handwrite notes. However, since I was approaching my research as a fieldwork study, there was no strict guideline or process for the interview. This enabled me to to shape the experience to the needs and comfort level of the participants. Because of this, the interview became more of an informal conversation about their journey to the United States and their life as a refugee. Conducting my research in this way also led me to receive honest and vivid accounts of the refugees’ journeys, as there was no time constraint. Participants were free to take time to craft their answers and fully explain themselves and their story. Another reason I received authentic and detailed responses was that the manner in which my research was conducted built trust between the participant and myself. This is discussed in Lindlof’s explanation, where friendship is seen as a very functional tool for successful research (141). A natural conversation with a quiet and thoughtful observer ensured that participants did not feel intimidated or overwhelmed. They could share as much or as little as they wanted and could respond with long answers or a short one. As result of this freedom and trust, a very natural conversation would flow and I was able to obtain a holistic view of that individual and their life story.

Students at the Phoenician Palms English School

However, it was very difficult to actually get to the interview stage of this research process. Primarily, transportation was a large hindrance. Many of the families live in the West Valley and would have almost no way of traveling to Tempe to be interviewed. I tried to accommodate as best as I could, but I also live in Tempe with no car, so I had to rely on friends and family to aid me in traveling around the city for interviews and meetings. This inhibited me from planning a few interviews.

Another issue was that many agencies were not willing to allow me to recruit from them, as they were worried about the safety and privacy of their clients. I completely understand this, but I was slightly disappointed with a few agencies that entirely shut down my project. Agencies’ and organizations’ unwillingness to participate in my project inhibited me from expanding my interviews to a larger number of individuals and a more diverse group of refugees. My frustration comes from my belief that I was an important link between what agencies wanted and them actually achieving these goals. I believe that if refugee’s stories are shared, it will improve the relationship between society and this vulnerable community. However, many agencies are very preoccupied with protecting their clients and themselves, that they cannot risk public exposure of their clients and their services, especially with so many changes being made to refugee and immigrant policy in America under the new political administration [if supportFields]> CITATION Tor17 \l 1033 <![endif](Torbati and Rosenberg 2017)[if supportFields]><![endif].

When many agencies were not willing to work with me, my personal contacts became exceedingly important. Of course, my first thought was to reach out to Kigabo, my now friend and former refugees. The first interview I conducted was with his family. I made the hour long drive to his home in West Phoenix to talk to and photograph him, his wife Anastasie, their six children, and Anastasie’s mother. We talked for nearly two hours, until Anastasie cut off her long-winded husband and announced it was time to eat. We sat down to a traditional Congolese meal of a spicy beef stew, vegetables, and fufu, an African staple food made out of cassava. Anastasie showed me how to break apart the steaming fufu and use it to sop up the broth from the stew. As we shared a meal, the couple continued to share their story, now in an even more easy going and honest way, adding details of different encounters and expanding on some of their thoughts. I was and still am so grateful to the Mbazumutima family for being open and vulnerable with me and sharing the fullness of their story. I am also grateful they agreed to be the “guinea pigs” and help me begin the interview process

After conducting these interviews, I would photograph the refugees. The way the photography portion would go was different depending on the individual I was meeting with. My goal was for them to be comfortable. Sometimes, it worked out that I just floated around and took photos of them doing everyday activities. This was the case when I visited the ESL class at Phoenician Palms apartments. While students were in class and participating in exercises, I simply wandered around and snapped candid photos. The majority of photos, however, were posed portraits. Stylistically, I love taking close up portraits that truly focus on the subject’s facial features, and I especially love playing with how the subject is interacting with the light. I edited the photos into black and white to further highlight the contrasting values of the subject and the light and to focus on the subjects’ expressions. I also took more wide framed portraits of entire families. I would then post these photos on my website, along with a long description of the subjects and their stories. I tried to include as many quotes as possible, as I believe that the spoken words of refugees, along with photographs, create a powerful display

I emailed these photos to the individuals I interviewed after the stories and photos were published on my blog. With my Barrett Thesis Funding, I also hope to print and send hard copies of the photos to all the families to express my gratitude that they agreed to the interviews. All refugees start the resettlement process with nothing. Even if they have risen above their circumstances and become successful in America, they still wake up every day knowing that they can never return to their home. I believe my photos can remind refugees of how much they have overcome, as well as celebrate the beautiful, abounding, and love filled homes they have created in the new spaces they occupy.

REFUGEE RESETTLEMENT

Kigabo and his family endured unspoken horrors and suffering when they were displaced from their country by civil war. The Congo saw a horrifying civil war that tore families apart and resulted in widespread ethnic cleansing, which directly affected the lives of Kigabo’s family members who were still in the Congo. Kigabo, in turn, suffered extreme emotional trauma and anxiety as he struggled to provide for his family and process the loss of his country while he was displaced in Benin. Then, Kigabo and his family endured the long and painful process of applying for refugee status and then had to wait three years for an answer. When the Mbazumutima family arrived in the United States, there were free from many of their fears and insecurities, but their lives did not get easier. They may have escaped civil war and displacement, but now they had a new set of problems to deal with.

Kigabo’s journey while unique, provides insight into the basic structure of displacement and resettlement that is common among the entire refugee population. Scholars and development professionals categorize this journey into three parts; pre-flight, flight, and post-flight. These three stages focus specifically on the level of vulnerability that individuals experience as they flee their country in search of safety and freedom.

Pre-flight occurs before an individual has left their home country. In this stage, there is some kind of crisis or conflict that is hindering the individual’s freedom and/or safety. The United Nations’ Convention and Protocol Relating to the Status of Refugees of 1951 maintains the definition of a refugee as one who, “owing to well-founded fear of being persecuted for reasons of race, religion, nationality, membership of a particular social group or political opinion, is outside the country of his nationality and is unable or, owing to such fear, is unwilling to avail himself of the protection of that country…” (UNHCR 1951). This definition encompasses the various forms oppression than an individual would be experiencing in the pre-flight stage. It has also been widened since it’s conception to broaden the definition and include generalized fear of violence. In the pre-flight stage, refugees are highly susceptible to poverty, limited access to health care and social service, violence, and/or oppression on the basis of politics, religion, ethnicity, or gender (Thomas and Thomas 2004).

These factors would push the refugee to flee their country and move into the flight stage of resettlement. This is the actual process when the refugee moves and is displaced outside of the borders of their home country. During this time, refugees are extremely vulnerable to health problems and lack of basic necessities. Children and women are particularly in susceptible to stress and trauma, especially sexual violence (Thomas and Thomas 2004).

When they arrive in their new, “host” country, refugees begin the post-flight stage. While the trauma and stressors are strikingly different than those of the previous stages, they are still serious and if unresolved or untreated can lead to lifelong problems. Initially, their biggest concern is basic needs, like water, food, shelter, and sanitation. If they are being resettled in highly developed countries, like the United States, these basic needs are often taken care of by the resettlement agency that oversees the refugee’s case. Refugee agencies receive government funding to help support refugees when they first arrive in the United States. If they are resettling in developing areas, access to these basic needs can be complicated and difficult to achieve. Once they are resettled in their host country and have their basic needs met, refugees experience severe financial stress, as well as intense culture shock and seemingly impenetrable language barriers (Thomas and Thomas 2004).

When the Mbazumutima family was resettled in Phoenix, they said the most difficult part of the transition was learning English. As I sat across from Anastasie and ate beef stew in her home, she said, "We don’t want to ignore that it’s not easy. When we just land in a big country like this and we don’t speak the language...we’ve got nowhere to go. It’s very hard. Even if we get kind of used to it and we find our way sometimes, but it took a long time to know what to do, how to go and ask for a job…especially when we first came (Mbazumutima 2017)”. However, one stressor of the post-flight stage that is particular to larger, urban areas like Phoenix is the geographic divide between communities. The city is extremely spread out and can be difficult to navigate, especially for refugees who have to rely on public transportation, without English language skills. Not only is it difficult for refugees to traverse the expansive and complex city, but I also believe there are geographical factors that divide refugees from the greater community.

GEOGRAPHIC DIVIDE

When traveling through urban centers, it is standard to go through “bad neighborhoods” and “good neighborhoods”. Urban cities get divided into clear neighborhoods according to race and social class. Generally, it is believed that since urban spaces are created by people, their character is a reflection of the individuals that inhabit it. This is often seen as a two-way process, known as a socio spatial dialectic, in which “people create and modify urban spaces while at the same time being conditioned in various ways by the spaces in which they live and work”[if supportFields]> CITATION Kno14 \l 1033 <![endif] (Knox and Pinch 2014)[if supportFields]><![endif]. First, people change their surrounding environment to reflect their values and meet their needs. At the same time, the people themselves gradually change in a response to their physical environment and the other individuals around them. As this two-way effect takes place, different spaces take on different characteristics and are separated into neighborhoods. Within the study of urban social geography, there are many different explanations for this segregation. However, for the purpose of my research, I will focus mainly on income differences between [if gte vml 1]><v:shapetype id="_x0000_t75" coordsize="21600,21600" o:spt="75" o:preferrelative="t" path="m@4@5l@4@11@9@11@9@5xe" filled="f" stroked="f"> <v:stroke joinstyle="miter"></v:stroke> <v:formulas> <v:f eqn="if lineDrawn pixelLineWidth 0"></v:f> <v:f eqn="sum @0 1 0"></v:f> <v:f eqn="sum 0 0 @1"></v:f> <v:f eqn="prod @2 1 2"></v:f> <v:f eqn="prod @3 21600 pixelWidth"></v:f> <v:f eqn="prod @3 21600 pixelHeight"></v:f> <v:f eqn="sum @0 0 1"></v:f> <v:f eqn="prod @6 1 2"></v:f> <v:f eqn="prod @7 21600 pixelWidth"></v:f> <v:f eqn="sum @8 21600 0"></v:f> <v:f eqn="prod @7 21600 pixelHeight"></v:f> <v:f eqn="sum @10 21600 0"></v:f> </v:formulas> <v:path o:extrusionok="f" gradientshapeok="t" o:connecttype="rect"></v:path> <o:lock v:ext="edit" aspectratio="t"></o:lock> </v:shapetype><v:shape id="image4.png" o:spid="_x0000_s1026" type="#_x0000_t75" style='position:absolute;margin-left:-4.95pt;margin-top:161.85pt;width:468pt; height:231pt;z-index:251659264;visibility:visible;mso-wrap-style:square; mso-wrap-distance-left:9pt;mso-wrap-distance-top:0;mso-wrap-distance-right:9pt; mso-wrap-distance-bottom:0;mso-position-horizontal:absolute; mso-position-horizontal-relative:margin;mso-position-vertical:absolute; mso-position-vertical-relative:margin'> <v:imagedata src="file:////Users/chloerutledge/Library/Group%20Containers/UBF8T346G9.Office/msoclip1/01/clip_image001.png" o:title=""></v:imagedata> <w:wrap type="square" anchorx="margin" anchory="margin"></w:wrap> </v:shape><![endif][if !vml][endif]neighborhoods, as well as the racial implications of this effect.

One reason I believe that many inhabitants of Phoenix are unaware of refugees is because of the geographic divide between social classes and ethnic groups. In the above map of Phoenix, the dark red regions represent a low median household income and the areas in blue show a high median household income. The darkest red regions are clustered in the Downtown/South Phoenix area as well as the West Valley. The blue regions are mainly in the Scottsdale area, as well as the suburbs in the West and East parts of the metropolitan area. In looking at this map, there is a strong visible divide between rich neighborhoods and poor neighborhood

Phoenix is my home. I was born here and have lived in Central Phoenix all my life. My perspective allows me to go beyond this map and delve into the depths of this space. I know, from experience, that the darker red areas on the map are not only poorer, but are mainly made up of ethnic minorities. The blue areas on the map are mainly white families and more affluent minority families. These neighborhoods are separated in the city, but can change quickly from a “red zone” to a “blue zone”.

Driving down any main road in Phoenix, this phenomenon is clear. Camelback Avenue runs East to West and stretches almost through the entire city. In the Scottsdale/Arcadia neighborhood, Camelback road is home to the largest and most expensive mall in the state, as well as some of the grandest real estate property in the city. The intersection of Camelback and 24th Street holds some of the most expensive commercial real estate property in the United States. Moving west into Central Phoenix, Camelback gives way to gorgeous and highly sought after historic neighborhoods with a large price tag. However, as soon as Central avenue is passed, the streets become avenues and Camelback quickly becomes a journey into some of the poorest neighborhoods in the Valley. Moving throughout the avenues, there are fewer grocery stores, fewer fancy restaurants, and fewer houses with more convenience stores, ethnic markets, and old, beige apartment buildings.

This was the neighborhood that Kigabo and his family moved to when they first arrived in the United States. The Mbazumutimas, just like the majority of Phoenix’s refugee population, found themselves in the poorer neighborhoods of the West Valley.

As previously explained, refugees in the post-flight stage of their resettlement are in great need of social resources. While many refugees get help from agencies and governmental organizations, these resources are inadequate to truly help them thrive in their host country and integrate fully into Phoenix society. The wealthiest citizens of Phoenix live in the East Valley and the blue areas on the map. These affluent members of society have the cultural competencies, social well-being, and economic resources to help the refugee community. However, they are separated by this geographic division. People in Scottsdale can live their daily lives without ever leaving their neighborhood and would have almost no reason to travel west of Central Avenue. Residents of these wealthier neighborhoods could go through their entire lives without knowing that Phoenix has a prominent refugee community, simply because they have no reason to enter these neighborhoods.

In one of my interviews, I spoke with Luan, a refugee from Myanmar who said that one of the hardest parts about being resettled in Phoenix was the transportation. She lived at 35th Avenue and Camelback and worked a minimum wage job in housekeeping in North Scottsdale. This required a 2 hour commute by bus (both ways) through the city, mainly on hot summer days. This took a toll on Luan’s mental and physical well-being, but nothing could be done. The best jobs were in the East Valley, and Luan could not afford a car. Similarly, Kigabo lived in the West Valley, but had to travel to Scottsdale daily to work a minimum wage housekeeping job. Traversing the city using public transport was quite confusing to Kigabo, but adding the language barrier on top of that made it incredibly difficult. And with four children at home, now, it was difficult to save up money to purchase a car.

Aside from the difficulties that refugees experience when attempting to interact with the geographic space of Phoenix, there are also vast differences in infrastructure and resources between the different neighborhoods of Phoenix. An example of this is the healthcare system. To supplement my thesis research, I began attending quarterly coalition meetings of the Refugee Women’s Health Clinic, which provides access to comprehensive, culturally sensitive care for refugee women in and around Phoenix, and is a branch of the Maricopa Integrated Health System. It is the only clinic in the U.S. to provide direct medical care to this specific population, and in doing so they promote the self-sufficiency and success of this vulnerable population. (Refugee Women's Health Clinic 2017). The clinic is operated out of the Maricopa County Hospital, located on Roosevelt and 24th street, and for lack of a better word, it’s the kind of hospital you do not want to go to. It is a public institution that tries to be highly accessible to the entire community of Maricopa County. As a result, the county hospital sees mainly individuals from low income communities and many individuals who are on state funded Medicare and Medicaid plans. It is also located in a rather poor community of central Phoenix. Because of these factors, this is where the majority of refugees go when they need medical attention. The coalition meeting was held on the facility and it was my first time ever visiting this hospital. To be honest, it was my first time ever driving into this neighborhood.

Compare this to the larger hospitals in Scottsdale and Central Phoenix, like Scottsdale Shea or St. Joseph’s Medical Center. These are state of the art facilities and receive more funding than state or county hospitals. These hospitals are also located in geographically “better-off” neighborhoods. As a result, they serve a different demographic than the county hospital. They see less patients from lower income communities and more affluent members of society. Aside from hospitals, there are numerous institutions, buildings, services, and places built into the geographic layout of Phoenix that point to the economic disparity between the communities. For example, West Phoenix has a high presence of strip malls, most of which are run down or in need of a paint job or even missing signs and lights. In Scottsdale, however, even the gas stations are well maintained, cleaned, and aesthetically pleasing from street view.

This geographic divide is present, not only in Phoenix, but in many urban societies, where cities are designed and developed to benefit the more affluent citizens and make the vulnerable populations invisible, or rather, very difficult to find. Not only is this division present, but it is persistent and is predicted to become greater in the coming years. A study on Phoenix’s economic divide by Dr. Elizabeth Segal revealed a growing trend in economic disparity in the greater Phoenix area. Furthermore, Dr. Segal’s research showed that much of this disparity correlated to geographic regions and divides. Segal’s worries stem from the fact that as more and more vulnerable populations (migrants, immigrants, and retirees) pour into Phoenix at steady rates, there are less resources for them because of economic and geographic division. Segal believes that this growing economic inequality will lead to a further divided community, both geographically, but also politically, socially, and ideologically, which will lead to conflict and hinder the city’s growth. Segal argues that “If we do not address this geographic divide, we will see two different communities competing for resources in ways that will drain both the city and county” [if supportFields]>CITATION Seg \p 91 \l 1033 <![endif](Segal n.d., 91)[if supportFields]><![endif].

Segal’s argument is truly at the heart of my thesis project. I get a first-hand look at this divide when I share my interest in the refugee population with members of my own community. Similar to the frustrations I expressed at the onset of this paper, many inhabitants of Phoenix are ignorant of the refugee community and unaware of their needs. Like Segal, I also believe that geographic divide of different economic classes leads to strained political and social relations between community members. In my research and my fieldwork, I saw how the refugee population was divided from the greater Phoenix community, and this created a frightening phenomena . Refugees are in need of social resources from the greater Phoenix community and more affluent members of society, but they are unable to receive these resources because of the geographic divide. Similarly, the affluent members of society and non-refugee community have ample resources to offer to the refugee community, but many do not even know that refugees exist in their city because they are so disconnected on a geographic level. This cycle of division between members of the Phoenix community led me to wonder why this was happening. There is an economic and geographic divide between communities, but what caused it and how can it get better? I found a theory to address these questions in Robert Putnam’s work on social capital.

SOCIAL CAPITAL

The first theories of social capital, which “emphasize the importance of social ties and shared norms to societal well-being and economic efficiency”[if supportFields]>CITATION Nor \p 138 \l 1033 <![endif] (Norris 2002, 138)[if supportFields]><![endif] were initiated by Pierre Bourdieu and James Coleman. The idea was that by improving and fostering social connections, one could increase social well-being and even make the economy more efficient. Robert Putnam further expanded this idea in his books Making Democracies Work and in Bowling Alone, where he made connections between social capital and the importance of civic awareness, political participation, and effective governance. Putnam defines social capital as “connections among individuals- social networks and norms of reciprocity and trustworthiness that arise from them”[if supportFields]>CITATION Put94 \p 138 \l 1033 <![endif] (Putnam, Leonardi and Nanetti 1994, 138)[if supportFields]><![endif].

It is important to note that there is a duality to Putnam’s definition, as social capital is observed as both a structural phenomenon and a cultural phenomenon. This causes some issues when attempting to measure social capital, as it is difficult to find a balance between the two sides. One can rely too heavily on cultural aspects, or too much on structural practices, when truly, a balance is needed between both to understand Putnam’s definitions and findings. For example, when applying social capital to the refugee community of Phoenix, the structural piece would be how the government and nonprofit agencies contribute to the social network of refugees. The cultural component would focus more on how ethnic groups that now find themselves as refugees in a new place band together to form strong communities that combine both cultures of the home land with the new cultures of the host country. To effectively measure the social capital of the refugee community, one must look outside of governments and agencies to see the work being done culturally. Similarly, one must also not really extensively on refugee culture to measure social capital, as much work is being done by agencies and the government to form social networks for the refugee population.

After defining social capital, Putnam lays out three core claims that make up his theory. The first is that “horizontal networks embodied in civic society, and the norms and values related to these ties, have important consequences” (138). This concept maintains that collaboration, coordination and cooperation found in social networks are important to establishing and maintaining social wellbeing. Because social ties bring about shared understanding and trust, people have the ability to work together for the common good if they are a part of a social network. They can make agreements on rules and procedures that all work towards their mutual benefit. In this way, social relationships become a highly valuable investment which continually creates value on both a group level and an individual level. This aspect of social capital can be measured as a cultural phenomenon when observing social and cultural relationships.

Putnam argues that this claim of social capital can also be measured structurally. Organizations in a civic society provide a significant platform that allows people to create social networks, especially organizations such as nonprofits, volunteer groups, unions, churches, and community groups. They are able to bring together an assorted group of people to all work towards one common goal. The structure of these organizations encourages people to form horizontal social connections, bridging the gap between social standings, economic status, political alignment, and more. In these structures, citizens can learn valuable skills such as respect, tolerance, cooperation, and appreciation of diversity, which all contribute to improving social capital and overall social well-being.

After confirming the importance of social networks, Putnam makes his second claim to the case for social capital, that “social capital has significant political consequences” (139). In a lecture further explaining social capital, Putnam is careful to note the distinction between social capital and political participation. The terms are related, but not synonymous. Political participation refers to people’s relationships to political institutions, while social capital describes people’s relationship with each other (Putnam 140). The relationship between these two distinct terms is what interested Putnam. He explores the relationship between civil society and social capital, ultimately showing how civic society promotes social capital and that social capital, in turn, promotes political participation and democracy. In terms of the Phoenix as Refuge project, the belief is that as individuals become more socially aware of refugees in their city, they will pay more attention to political events or policies that impact refugees and immigration. Advocacy, on a political and social scale, will hopefully start to increase as individuals become more aware and more understanding of refugees and their stories. In this way, an increase in social capital, where members of society build a beneficial relationship with refugees, leads to political consequences of higher political awareness and participation.

Putnam’s third claim is that social capital, and civic society, have been declining in postwar America ([if supportFields]>CITATION Nor \p 140 \l 1033 <![endif] (Norris 2002, 140)[if supportFields]><![endif]. He reasons that a major attack against social capital has been the rise of technology and media. The introduction of technology and media, he argues, has led to the privatization of leisure, which keeps people from engaging in public and community activity, therefore hindering the development of social capital. Putnam’s research shows that while Americans became more politically interested in the 70s, 80s, and 90s, their political participation, especially for community or public political events, steadily declined. Between 1973 and 1993, interested in attending a public political rally or speech dropped by 36% and interest in working for a political party dropped by 56% (Putnam 1995, 145).

When applying these theories of social capital to my argument of community division and refugee studies, I took a different approach than Putnam, but arrived at similar results. In Putnam’s research, he pays little mind to space. In fact, his notion of social capital is inherently a-spatial; social capital ,or lack thereof, is determined by exogenous factors, like technology, media, and socioeconomic security, but not by space or geographic elements. For the purposes of my project, however, I viewed space as a determining factor in measuring the social capital of a community.

In highly urbanized communities, the geographic layout of the city leads to a more individualistic and segregated society. As previously mentioned, someone who lives in North Scottsdale could spend their entire life in North Scottsdale and be completely happy. They would never need to venture outside their neighborhood to maintain not only their basic needs, but all of their desires beyond the necessities. On the other side, someone living in the West Valley would also not venture far from their neighborhood. This is partly due to the same facts as the Scottsdale example; their basic needs can be met in their own space. However, the key difference between someone living in Scottsdale and someone living in the West Valley, is that members of marginalized, lower class neighborhoods do not get the privilege of choice. Someone in Scottsdale can choose whether or not to stay in Scottsdale, but often, if someone if born into a low income family in the West Valley, they will stay in the West Valley their whole life. This lack of choice is why the West Valley is home to a large and growing immigrant community. Individuals resettle there either as refugees or as newly arrived immigrants because of the low property cost. Then, their children stay in that neighborhood because they have an established community there, until multiple generations are settled and have never left the neighborhood. The communities of Scottsdale and West Phoenix, differing by socioeconomic class and ethnicity, are divided, but one is in place because of privilege, and the other because of circumstance.

Because the city of Phoenix is set up like this, there is a momentous lack of social capital, specifically between the refugee community and the greater community of Phoenix. Refugees are in great need of social services, but they are, to some extent, stuck in poorer communities that have no resources. Other members of society, who are more affluent, possess ample resources to help refugees as they transition into their new lives, but their geographic location keeps them away from the people who need their resources the most. Because of how refugees and non-refugees fit into the geographic space of the city, both groups are inherently setup to fail at making and maintaining social networks and necessary connections to build up the community’s social capital.

SOLUTIONS

The claim that social capital is determined by space and geography is at the heart of Phoenix as Refuge. This project aims to increase social capital by bridging the spatial and geographic gap between refugees and non-refugees, in the hopes that with an increased social capital stock, the community as a whole will be better off. The project’s goal is to establish and strengthen social connections between two different communities, in the hopes that creating a social network between these two groups will bring about positive societal change. From the start, it has been my hope that when the non-refugees read refugees’ stories and view their portraits they would be inclined to reach out to this community and form a social connection with them. This will lead to a mutually beneficial relationship; the general population can better advocate for refugees, and the refugee population can better work toward benefitting the community at large.

During my fieldwork, I found examples of these increasing social ties that are already being made. A fantastic model for this solution is the Phoenician Palms English School. Abounding Service, a nonprofit geared towards supporting refugees during resettlement, provides English classes at an apartment complex that is made up almost entirely of refugees. Instead of making refugees trek across the city to go to English classes, Abounding Service comes to them. More affluent members of society, who are well educated and have access to resources that refugees need, are intentionally traversing the city to build social ties with refugees.

Increasing social ties is one of the most approachable and effective methods for resolving the economic and geographic divide in an urban context. Facilitating this social connection can be done in many different ways, as long as it’s helping community members become more aware of each other. Creating social ties in a community leads to the development of social capital and shrinks the disparity between communities. This is a mutually beneficial relationship, as improving these relationships leads to activism and creates a better community for all inhabitants.

On a structural level, agencies and nonprofit are crucial to helping bridge the gap between the those who need help and those who can offer help, often distinguished as the “served” and the “servers”. Volunteer-ships, community outreach, and programs of the like encourage more secure members of society to form social relationships with those who are in need of assistance. The formation of these social networks, again, contribute to the mutual benefit of all.

While building social ties is useful in strengthening relationships between refugees and non-refugees, individuals face serious systemic obstacles that make it difficult for these social ties to be created and to last. As evident in the study of Phoenix’s geographic divide between the social and economic classes, Phoenix, and many urban cities, are not designed in a way that fosters this social capital. Those who need social and economic resources, like refugees, immigrants, and minorities, are separated from those who are more well off and could provide resources. People cannot form social ties with individuals that they never interact with.

At some point, it becomes not just advocating for refugees, but advocating for a different kind of city and place that sets up refugees, and non-refugees alike, to succeed. In this phase of my proposed solutions, rethinking the city through urban planning becomes integral to making new social networks possible. This means that urban planning is not just real estate investment for wealthy people, but rather is about designing a city to build up its social capital stock. In this way, social awareness is also spatial awareness. It’s about people, but also about place and people’s interaction within it.

Phoenix is designed to be meaningful and beneficial to a certain group of people. Mostly upper middle class, non-minorities. For a refugee, from a low income, minority community, the experience of Phoenix is much different than a high income, white family from Scottsdale. The geographic and urban planning implications of being a refugee in Phoenix means that refugees need more than just social connections. Solutions must go beyond introducing refugees to people who can help them; the next step would be to redesign cities to make the creation of social ties and social capital easier. Being a refugee advocate in Phoenix means not only being an advocate for people, but also an advocate for a different kind of city.

The proof of these solutions rings true in the life of Kigabo. When he and his family arrived in Phoenix, they had nothing except love for each other and a strong will to survive. For years, Kigabo and Anastasie would tremendously hard at low paying, menial jobs in order to put food on the table and send their kids to school. They taught themselves how to use public transportation. They struggled and struggled until they finally got a grasp on the English language. Their own perseverance and hard work was getting them by, but they lacked social resources to truly pick themselves up and get back to a normal life.

This all changed the day they met Bonnie Lloyd. The woman who introduced me to the plight of the refugee was the same woman who changed the story of the Mbazumutima family forever. Bonnie met the Mbazumutima through her connection at various resettlement agencies. She was so moved by their story that she decided to effectively “adopt” the family as her own. She took on their story, took on their struggles, and humbly put their needs above her own. Bonnie would drive the family around town to church, to the grocery, and wherever they needed to go. She helped both Kigabo and Anastasie apply to college so they could gain back their educational credentials and stop working as house keepers. She tutored the whole family in English. Through her own knowledge, Bonnie connected the family to numerous social services and resources across the Valley. Whatever the family needed, Bonnie was there. I talked to Kigabo about Bonnie, he said that around his house, they called her sister. She became a part of their family and helped the Mbazumutima family rise above their circumstances and make their story one of success.

Today, Kigabo has his Master in Public Health from Arizona State University. For the final project of his Master’s program, Kigabo was supposed to design a plan to make the Arizona healthcare system more sustainable. Instead, his project laid out a plan to innovate and redesign the African healthcare system. The department was so impressed with Kigabo’s rebellious and revolutionary proposal that they helped him receive funding to start a nonprofit that would implement his plan and make African healthcare systems more sustainable. African Health New Horizons is now in its 7th year of educating medical staff in Africa and equipping them with the top materials and medical supplies.

Anastasie went back to nursing school and is now an RN at Maryvale Hospital. She looks back on the days where she could barely but together a sentence in English and laughs, knowing that now she gives medical advice to hundreds of patients every day, in English. She and Kigabo have raised six beautiful, bright, and successful children, all of whom are on track to graduate from high school and have big dreams for the future. All members of the family are now United States citizens, and Kigabo and Anastasie own their own home and three cars.

Surely, Kigabo and Anastasie were competent and strong on their own. But when their social ties with Bonnie were established, they soared. All it took was one person who saw them, heard them, and helped them, and their story went from hopeless to hopeful. Bonnie and the Mbazumutima family did all of this within a city that did not make it easy on them. One can only imagine how much more the family could have succeeded if Phoenix were redesigned to set up refugees and advocates for success.

CONCLUSION

As a native of Phoenix, I care deeply about my city and its inhabitants. The most exciting discovery I made during my research was the realization that advocating for refugees and advocating for the city are not mutually exclusive. Rather, they are one in the same. To empower the refugee community, it is crucial to improve the city as a urban and spatial place. Similarly, to strengthen and uplift the city, we must empower the lives of all its residents. Phoenix as Refuge is about people, but it’s also about the city I grew up in. It’s about the revelation and firm belief that advocate for people means also means being an advocate for place.

One of the most rewarding and precious components of this project was witnessing the hope, ambition, and perseverance of refugees. This is a group of people who been told their story is over. Their country has fallen into ruin, their safety has been compromised, and they have been oppressed. They have experienced violence, assault, loss, and trauma at an unimaginable scale. They have been uprooted and traveled thousands of miles to an unfamiliar and frightening place. They have struggled to provide for their families and meet their basic needs. They face obstacle after obstacle and navigate complexities of a new culture and a new life, all on their own. They should not have hope. They should not persevere. Their journey is too hard and the odds are too great against them. But this is what makes refugees so special; they stare all that mess and darkness and evil straight in the face and whisper, “My story is just beginning”.

Refugees are already strong, but Phoenix as Refuge is trying to make them stronger. By bridging the gap between communities, strengthening social ties, and advocating for a different kind of city, Phoenix as Refuge is expanding the awareness of refugees and increasing the advocacy of this amazing population. Refugees in Phoenix, and across the world, are reclaiming their lives and continuing their stories, and it is up to members of the community to decide if they are going to step up and help make sure these stories have good endings.

My first interview of the project, with Kigabo, ended with these words. I like to repeat them to myself as much as I can.

“When we start, we don’t know the network. We have a heavy accent. We have the background of refugee. It may take more effort to succeed but it can still make it happen. Let’s make it happen! Let’s get help! Let’s pray about it! It’s gonna work...and it’s working. Slowly...but it’s working."

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Knox, Paul, and Steven Pinch. 2014. Urban social geography: an introduction. Routledge.

Lindlof, Thomas R. , and Bryan C. Taylor. 2011. Qualitative Communication Research Methods. Sage.

Mbazumutima, Kigabo, and Anastasie Mbazumutima, interview by Chloe Rutledge. 2017. The Mbazumutima Family (26 May).

Ndikumana, Léonce , and Kisangani Emizet. 2003. "The economics of civil war: The case of the Democratic Republic of Congo." SSRN. October 22. Accessed October 4, 2017. https://papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.cfm?abstract_id=443580.

Norris, Pippa. 2002. Democratic phoenix: reinventing political activism. Cambridge Unviersity Press.

Putnam, Robert D. , Robert Leonardi, and Raffaella Y. Nanetti. 1994. Making democracy work: Civic traditions in modern Italy. Princeton: Princeton University Press.

2017. Refugee Women's Health Clinic. MIHS. Accessed October 18, 2017. http://mihs.org/refugee-womens-clinic/.

Segal, Elizabeth A. n.d. "Greater Phoenix Forward." Poverty: The Valley's Economic Divide . Accessed August 24, 2017. https://www.asu.edu/copp/morrison/GPF-Chap10.pdf.

Thomas, Samanatha L. , and Stuart DM Thomas. 2004. "Displacement and health." British medical bulletin 1 (69): 115-127.

Torbati, Yeganeh, and Mica Rosenberg. 2017. Trump administration proposes to cut refugee cap to 45,000. 27 September. Accessed October 3, 2017. https://www.reuters.com/article/us-usa-immigration-refugees/trump-administration-proposes-to-cut-refugee-cap-to-45000-idUSKCN1C22RN.

UNHCR. 1951. "Convention and Protocol Relating to the Status of Refugees." United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees. Accessed October 5, 2017. http://www.unhcr.org/en-us/3b66c2aa10.

PHOENIX AS REFUGE

Phoenix as Refuge

BIBLIOGRAPHY

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