DREAMers at the U: One step to graduation

Story and photo by SHAUN AJAY

What does it feel like when you walk into a classroom? Do you fear integration? Assimilation? Deportation? Do you worry about your immigration status?

More undocumented immigrants, predominantly Latinx, enter the country and face daily challenges with their legal status, work, livelihood and education. Misconceptions have quickly spread that undocumented folks cannot pursue higher education and consequently secure a better job. Rivarola’s story tells us otherwise.

Alonso Rafael Reyna Rivarola was an undocumented immigrant himself. He moved to the United States from Peru at the age of 11 and has lived in Utah ever since. He attended the University of Utah in 2008 — a time when the Deferred Action for Children Arrivals policy, or DACA, did not exist. The DACA policy began in June 2012, right before Rivarola was finishing his final year at school. During his undergraduate years studying sociology, he worked with a group of scholars called The Mestizo Arts and Activism Collective. The group created a website that continues to serve as a center of information on the undocumented community and experience. It offers a list of scholarship resources for first-generation POC (people of color) college students and DREAMers (Development, Relief and Education for Alien Minors).

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Rivarola poses in front of a collage of DREAMers.

Fast forward to his master’s program in educational leadership and policy. Rivarola wrote a piece on the importance of undocumented student centers. A DREAMer himself, he became the first director of the Dream Center in the state of Utah in 2017. His personal experience allows him to provide support and services to students much like himself. “We work with everyone who enters our doors; those who are historically forgotten in higher education,” he said. Rivarola also became the first advisor at the Center for Ethnic Student Affairs (CESA). In that role, he focuses on working with other undocumented students on campus.

The Dream Center consists of a four-person team that works with undocumented students and their families to facilitate their academic success and graduation. The center helps students with their academic pathway, from individual mentorship to scholarship support. 

The Salt Lake Tribune reported in 2018 that Hispanics are now Utah’s largest minority. They comprise 14 percent of the state’s population, or 434,288 people. 

In Utah, some laws were made to help undocumented students access more affordable education, provided they have graduated from a local high school. For example, HB 144 allows these students to pay in-state tuition. But inversely, a law passed in 2009, SB 81, prevents them from receiving private funding. And now, under SB 253, passed in 2015, students can access federal benefits for their education. 

It’s a complex system that the Dream Center has to work with. And for those who are affected, the question, “Will I be able to afford college?” always lingers silently under the bills that pass in the country or state.

For the Latinx community, whether undocumented or not, higher education is a steep climb that many cannot risk to take. Jasmin Valdivia is a 21-year-old Latina, born and raised in Provo, a city just along the Wasatch Mountain Front. Her parents had both migrated from Mexico. In 2016, she graduated from high school in a majority white neighborhood in Springville. During her high school years, Valdivia involved herself with ballet, orchestra, and cheer — activities that weren’t typical for Latinas, she said.

“I knew what was expected of me as a minority,” she said. Valdivia compared her outsider-insider position of living in Utah to holding a snow globe and looking inside. In her last year of high school, her school counselor only recommended Utah Valley University — a school, she said, that most Latinx students attended. Valdivia considers herself to be an adamant person. She believed in her own abilities and didn’t subject herself to the stereotypes that people imposed on her. She applied and was accepted to the University of Utah Asia Campus, located in South Korea.

Valdivia is the first in her family to attend college. She said her mother graduated from high school and her dad from elementary school. Her grandfather can barely read or write in Spanish. Her first cousin attended a semester in college before getting pregnant and dropping out. A majority of her Latinx friends do fall into the stereotype of settling with just a high school degree. “It’s usually the cultural issue of, ‘Well, my parents didn’t go to college and they’re doing fine,’ and when you think like that, you start to limit yourself,” she said

Valdivia said a friend of hers was brought illegally to the U.S from Mexico. She was a straight-A student in school and a talented musician in her orchestra. Valdivia also said her friend, due to her legal status, was unable to get financial aid to pursue a good music program in college. Now, three years since high school, Valdivia’s friend is still unable to attend university.

What Valdivia hopes to see is a system that is more supportive of giving the Latinx population equal opportunities to pursue their ambitions. She is currently working on her bachelor’s degree in communication and aspires to work in the news field to represent her culture and ethnicity.

With representation on one hand and education on the other, Dream Center Director Rivarola said he believes these elements should work together. He wants more Latinxs pursuing education and eventually become future professors, teachers and paraprofessionals. He said a lot of Latinx students learn typically in their second language, as opposed to their native Spanish. Seeing teachers like themselves serves as an important indicator to strive for success and ultimately leads them to different fields of studies. The Dream Center at the University of Utah remains an active system for any student to reach out to and ask for help.

 

Hispanic belief system that the family is the heart and focus of life

Story and photo by EMMA JOHNSON

The family is the heart of the Hispanic culture. Children taking care of their parents as their parents took care of them in their childhood is a “circle of life” concept the Latinix communities value. Birth and death are interesting life experiences. Latinx people are viewed as family-centered with divine importance placed on caring for the young and elderly. Learning from family members’ wisdom that will benefit future generations is an honorable life adventure Hispanic families respect.

A 2014 poll conducted by the Associated Press-NORC Center for Public Affairs Research found that Hispanics have a higher likelihood of caring for their elderly relatives and having it be a positive experience. The poll concluded that Hispanic families have reported a greater percentage of their caregiving being less financially stressful.

Alex Guzman, president and CEO of the Utah Hispanic Chamber of Commerce, feels the opportunity to take care of his elders enhances his family centered beliefs. “In the Hispanic culture, they will take care of their parents because their parents took care of them.” For him and his family, the statement is as simple as it sounds. Guzman says assisted-living homes are a rarity in his home county of Guatemala. The family is the center. Whatever sacrifices need to be made to ensure fulfillment of the circle of life will be made.

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The Livas family represents the circle of life. Standing from left: Norma, Manny, and Ed. Sam is seated

Latinx communities are loyal to their heritage.  They are proud of who they are and willing to share their rich culture with others. Sam Livas is a Mexican-American who prides himself on his family-oriented lifestyle. Livas’ mother grew up in Cananera Sonora, Mexico, and his father in Tucson, Arizona. His mother migrated to the United States to marry his father. Livas was born in California but said he would not trade his Hispanic upbringing up for the world.

Growing up, Livas said he watched as his mother cared for her elderly parents. “Seeing my mother and her siblings take care of their mother is where I feel or saw the need to take care of my own parents.” The firsthand experience helped him to realize the cultural importance and value of caring for those he loved.

According to a study conducted by the University Of Austin, Texas, despite high levels of need, Hispanics shun nursing homes and remain where they are even with compromised health conditions. It isn’t uncommon for children caretakers to fail meeting the needs of their elderly relatives. Most family members aren’t medical professionals. The looming pressure of where family members with health complications will live daunts and alters cultural customs.

Livas said in an email interview that his Mexican-American values have given him a clearer understanding of why many Americans put their parents into nursing centers. “I don’t fault those that CAN provide better care for their loved ones.” He said he feels assisted and rehabilitation homes should not be a substitute for family, but used as a resource that benefits all. “Don’t forget to call and visit,” Livas added, there is no better emotional love than a family can provide.

Latinx communities rely on family units as human bodies rely on their heart. Family belonging and involvement is the foundation of their lives. Guzman, with the Utah Hispanic Chamber of Commerce, said, “If you have to work three jobs with the intention to provide for your children, you do.”

 

Effort equals reward for Latinx organizations in Salt Lake City

Story and photos by BRITT BROOKS

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“DREAMers Life III” by Ana M., 2009.

Twice a year monarch butterflies make a 2,500-mile trek between the U.S. and Mexico. The migration is what keeps them alive. When cold temperatures in the states are unlivable, the warmth of a Mexican winter is the saving grace for this entire species.

Monarchs are more than pretty to look at, though. They’re a symbol for the Latinx community of migrants traveling to the U.S. and elsewhere. Though the journey is long and difficult, the destination promises opportunity, safety and a better life for Latinx individuals and their families.

The immigration process from Central and South America to the U.S. is grueling for even the toughest and most determined, but what happens when immigrants finally cross the border? How are Latinx people — with or without papers — supposed to integrate into American cities? If a language barrier exists, where can immigrants find jobs, housing and education? These kinds of questions are being asked and answered in Salt Lake City by professionals at organizations like the Dream Center, the Utah Coalition of La Raza, and the Utah Hispanic Chamber of Commerce.

The Dream Center at the University of Utah can be found on the south side of campus in the Annex building in the middle of a long hallway dedicated to diversity. Flags and banners hang in bold color, workshops and offices are bustling, and one can’t help feeling better about the world when students of all different cultures and ethnicities are seen thriving.

But the opportunity for higher education isn’t accessible to everyone. Some states bar undocumented citizens from attending universities, even though no federal laws support these actions. Thankfully, Utah isn’t one of them.

Luis Trejo and Brenda Santoyo greet those walking into the Dream Center with smiles and a friendly “what can we do?” attitude. Complete with memorized statistics and an impromptu presentation, Trejo and Santoyo shared some serious knowledge about the college experience of Latinx students in Utah.

Trejo, 19, is a student at the U and peer mentor with Santoyo, 24, a graduate assistant. They help Latinx students with their legal status, career goals, scholarships and strategies for picking the best college. Sometimes, they even recommend that students start at Salt Lake Community College, which is more affordable than the U. The Dream Center is also a resource for community gatherings and conversations and offers a space for local Latinx artists to display their work.

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The Annex building at the University of Utah.

Invigorating orange walls complete with posters and artwork create an environment that is both comforting and energizing. Monarch butterflies are featured in many of the decorations, including two graduation caps made by Santoyo. One of the caps says “Todo lo que hago, lo hago por ustedes.” Everything I do, I do for you. The stories here don’t just educate — they inspire as well.

The faculty are friendly, considerate of sensitive topics and well read on current laws that affect undocumented people here and nationwide. They know about options most students aren’t aware of, such as in-state tuition for anyone during summer semesters. And though the center is located at the U, is offers services to students from any college in the state. “It’s also really important to note we’re the only Dream Center in Utah,” Santoyo said.

Diversity and higher education create a new generation of young adults to tackle inequality, stereotypes and ignorance in an otherwise white-dominated professional world. For years the Latinx community has been marginalized, and Trejo mentioned how dehumanizing it is to call another person illegal.

Civil rights are crucial for Latinxs in America, and an active resistance against prejudice and discrimination has grown considerably in the last few decades. The rapidly growing Utah Latinx populace is at nearly half a million people, as reported by the Salt Lake Tribune in 2018. They strengthen and inspire each other, as well as continue the work of past civil rights leaders, most notably César Chávez.

The Utah Coalition of La Raza was founded in 1992 as a way to ensure the community had an organization to back up Latinx people in multiple situations. UCLR honors the legacy of César Chávez — Mexican American civil rights activist — with a fundraising banquet each year.

Chris Segura, 78, was president of the organization from 1997-99 and spoke about the action and assistance UCLR provides the Latinx community. “They’re an organization that promotes advocacy through education, immigration, civil rights and justice,” he said.

Segura knows plenty about the Latinx experience in education, as he was the first ever Hispanic administrator in Granite School District. As a U alumnus himself, his eyes lit up when talking about the partnership he started with the University of Utah. His plan involved the education and engineering departments at the U with the goal of making more college-credit classes available. This got Latinx students to take university classes in high school and created a higher chance of graduating and earning scholarships for low-income or undocumented students.

One of the biggest facets of the organization as a whole is education. UCLR runs three programs for K-12. The programs include the Utah Latinx Youth Symposium, CommUNITY Club, and Latinos in Action. As written on the website, Latinx are the least likely group to enroll in early childhood education, something UCLR is trying to change with community outreach. Equity in education for all students is important to give the same opportunities no matter their background.

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Hashtags help connect different communities on social media.

Organizations like the Dream Center and UCLR are resources for the Latinx community to have, especially for education. But what happens after graduation? One of the best pathways to success is to become an entrepreneur. Entrepreneurship is especially popular among undocumented people who might not speak English fluently or at all. Barriers against Latinxs aren’t just legal and political but can be seen in our local communities as well, where non-English speakers are all but ignored.

Someone else advocating for Latinxs is Alex Guzman, CEO of the Utah Hispanic Chamber of Commerce and a former politician from Guatemala. He’s versed in all things business and runs the chamber to give counsel about the different strategies for Latinx people when starting their own company in Utah.

When asked about his personal journey he said, “I’m a door maker more than a door opener.” According to Guzman, this is the kind of attitude one should have in order to be part of UHCC. An annual membership fee covers free classes, community gatherings, and networking events and activities. Once members join they have the opportunity to work with other Latinx-owned businesses and be supported and educated on how to succeed in Utah’s culture.

For the historically marginalized Latinx people of America, Utah is making strides. UHCC wants people to thrive and has helped over 13,700 business owners not just with seminars and networking but also political representation in connection with the national Hispanic Chamber of Commerce in Washington, D.C.

Growing diversity is good news for Salt Lake and surrounding Utah cities. And there’s an abundance of hardworking, inspiring Latinx members in communities across the state. Different cultures and experiences not only enrich our communities, but also help with international perspectives as well.

These organizations truly have what’s best for Latinx people in mind, whether they’ve made a journey like the monarch butterfly or were born in the U.S. In a world where the odds are against you, resources, networks and services can be invaluable.

 

Leveling the playing field with Dual Language Immersion

Story and photo by KATHERINE ROGERS

Jess Martinez’s fifth-grade classroom looks like any other at Riverside Elementary in West Jordan.

Desks are pushed together to make small tables. There’s a row of hooks for the kids to hang their coats and backpacks on. Posters with encouraging sentiments cover the walls. Remnants of the day’s lessons are still up on the whiteboard.

This room would not stand out in a mainly English-speaking school, yet the posters and lesson are all in Spanish. Martinez is the fifth-grade Spanish teacher in Riverside’s Dual Language Immersion (DLI) program.

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A reminder on Martinez’s whiteboard that translates to “kindness, listen.”

The DLI classes have two teachers: one who teaches in English and one who teaches in the target language. The amount of time the students spend with their target-language teachers gradually increases as they get into higher grades. For example, kindergarteners in the Spanish DLI only spend about 10 percent of their day in Spanish, but by the time they get to fifth grade, the languages are split 50-50.

At that point, there is a trade-off between the teachers. Martinez’s partner teacher, Rebecca Fenstermacher, will introduce math concepts in English. Later Martinez will reinforce those concepts in Spanish. The reverse is done for science. It’s introduced in Spanish by Martinez, reinforced in English by Fenstermacher.

Martinez says this is the best way to do it. Teaching people in ordinary language classes doesn’t work. After all, that’s not how we learn to speak initially.

The teacher points out that babies learn to speak by copying things their parents and those around them say. They refine it later. This is “language acquisition” rather than language learning.

That’s what the DLI programs aim to do. By immersing the students in the language throughout the day, the kids aren’t learning it, they are acquiring it.

Dual immersion is still a relatively new concept in Utah schools. It was started in 2008 and has grown over the years. The program being only 10 years old means many students didn’t get to benefit from it. The ones who felt it most were those enrolled in English as a Second Language programs (ESL).

Sinai Valero, 22, graduated high school in 2015, and so she just missed this opportunity — one that likely would have been immensely helpful to her in elementary school.

Her parents had emigrated from Venezuela to Utah in 1996, hoping for a better life for their future children. They mainly spoke Spanish at home. Valero’s parents were new to the country and the language. Spanish was just a way to have something familiar.

As a result, Valero knew very little English when she started school. The school did what was done with all the students in her situation, she was enrolled in ESL.

Children in ESL were enrolled in the same classes as all the other kids. Valero recalls that the difference was that once a day an English teacher would come and get them from the class. This would be during the times of day when the students would be working on whatever Language Arts lesson was planned for the day.

Valero pointed out that doing it during Language Arts meant that the ESL students didn’t miss anything in class, but it didn’t stop the spectacle. The ESL teachers would come to get their students, the class would usually watch the ESL students as they left.

This was not just uncomfortable for the ESL students, but watching their classmates be gathered up made it obvious to the other students that they were different. “I felt singled out,” Valero said. Other students would tease her for not speaking English and for her accent.

In DLI that sort of separation doesn’t exist. The Spanish-speakers will understand the Spanish class better than the English-speakers and vice-versa. It levels out the playing field between the English-speaking kids and the Spanish-speaking kids. No one gets to feel superior.

There’s another unexpected benefit that DLI has for native Spanish-speakers. It refines it.

Martinez says that many of his native Spanish-speaking students don’t speak fluent Spanish. They speak what he called “house Spanish.” It is a Spanish that pertains mainly to the domestic realm.

They learn vocabulary for things around the house, but not for science or social studies. Helpful at home, not so much out in the professional field. DLI teaches these kids Spanish that they may not get at home.

DLI could also encourage all students to speak their target-language. This is something that could be highly beneficial to native Spanish-speaking children.

Alex Guzman, president and CEO of the Utah Hispanic Chamber of Commerce, immigrated to the United States from Guatemala 11 years ago with his family. His son was still a child at the time and was soon enrolled in elementary school in Utah.

Guzman said his son struggled for a while. That he and his teachers couldn’t understand each other caused frustration on both ends.

Over the years, Guzman’s son has been speaking Spanish less and less. Guzman fears that his son, now in his 20s, is losing his Spanish and as a result, his culture.

Both Guzman and Valero think that DLI programs are a potential solution to this. Not only will all students in the program get to learn a new language, but the Spanish speakers also can take more pride in their language and culture.

Including the Hispanic culture into a tight-knit Utah community

Story and photo by KAELI WILTBANK

It is estimated that by mid-century, the United States population will be a minority-majority nation. According to the U.S. census, the Utah minority population has grown 24 percent since 2010, resulting in one in five Utahns being a minority.  

Noemi Morales Clark, whose parents immigrated to the United States from Mexico shortly after she was born, has chosen to spend the last few years living in West Valley City, Utah, where it is estimated that 37.9 percent of its population is made up of Hispanics. Commenting on her experience as a Latina, she said in a phone interview, “A number for diversity isn’t going to change anything, it’s just going to make people aware of what’s already happening, but talking about inclusivity would make a bigger difference. Inclusivity is very different because it is based more on a feeling.”

Alex Guzman, president and CEO of the Utah Hispanic Chamber of Commerce, said of his time spent in Utah, “We live in a very nice and beautiful state. It’s very open and very friendly. I am faced, on a daily basis with, I don’t want to say racism, but yes, I suffer some consequences not being white and Mormon.”

The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints has a large presence in the state of Utah, with 49 percent of the population belonging to the religion. Although that number is declining, the church has traditionally played a considerable role in the culture of the community.

Clark, the woman who lives in West Valley City, is an active member of the church. She said about inclusivity, “I think the church is just so big here that you get accustomed to knowing the people living around you that are in your ward.” She added, “If they aren’t in the ward or not LDS it’s like I don’t know how to interact with this person living next to me.”

A ward refers to a small congregation of your neighbors who meet together each week for church services. The local ward congregations often create a very close-knit community, prioritizing service and fellowship. The church has made extreme efforts to offer equal resources for those who don’t speak English. One way they are striving for more inclusivity is by creating Spanish wards.    

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Ruben Gomez pictured above in front of a local building for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.

It’s common for communities to experience growing pains as adjustments are made to be more diverse and inclusive. Ruben Gomez was raised by immigrant parents in San Diego. He explained how he and many other Hispanics face fear when immersing themselves into a new culture, “You have to roll with the punches, you have to include yourself. A lot of people will think, oh, I have nothing to contribute, but you have a lot to contribute, as an individual and with your culture.”

The Utah community has much to benefit from the Hispanic culture. When asked how Utahns can engage more with the Latinx population, UHCC President Guzman said, “How do [you] engage a community? It’s not about the language, it’s about the culture.” He described how the culture of the Hispanic community in Utah is powerful enough to break down the language barriers and suggested visiting West Valley City.

West Valley City, with its many Hispanic restaurants, grocery stores, and businesses, give native Utahns the perfect opportunity to engage with the Hispanic culture. Although there may be a language barrier, there is a unifying power that comes from striving to better understand and include your neighbors.

Gomez said how uncomfortable it can be for someone living in the United Staes who doesn’t speak English as their native language. “It’s an ingrown thing in Hispanics where they feel less than and looked down on if they speak with an accent.” Gomez said “it comes down to being humble and seeing everyone, all creeds, nationalities, genders, and colors as equals. You need to see that in yourself and you have to value it in others.”

Immigration, business and community: Organizations in Utah assist Hispanic entrepreneurs overcome challenges and find success

Story and photo by MEGAN CHRISTINE

Gladys Gonzalez was forced to leave her home in Colombia due to the unrest in the region in 1991. She was also forced to start her career over when she arrived in the United States.

Many immigrants who come to the U.S. are unable to pursue their previous vocation because barriers exist between foreign academic and professional worlds. They often are obligated to start at the bottom. This is a phenomenon known as brain waste.

Gonzalez, a former bank executive, knew she did not want to start over cleaning banks. She decided to start her own business.

Gonzalez noticed that there was a need for Spanish speakers in Utah to have a sense of community. She decided to create one of the first Spanish newspapers in Utah, Mundo Hispano. Through this process, Gonzalez was required to write a business plan. But, she had no idea where to start.

Pete Suazo, the first Hispanic Utah state senator, assisted Gonzalez with writing that business plan and finding funding. Gonzalez was inspired by his help and thought that everyone should have their own Pete Suazo to help them launch their business.

Suazo died in 2001, but Gonzalez never forgot the kindness he offered her. She wanted to honor his memory by creating similar opportunities for her community. This is where the idea for the Suazo Business Center was born.

The Suazo Business Center launched operations in 2003. It is a nonprofit organization that assists entrepreneurs from underserved, low- to moderate-income communities start and sustain their businesses. These communities include Hispanic, female, and refugee populations.

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Silvia Castro, executive director of the center, noted the uniqueness of the center. “We’re focused on economic development, which isn’t a typical role for a nonprofit,” she said. The reason the organization is a nonprofit is because its clients can’t typically afford a consulting business.

The center offers tools to communities who don’t usually get them, which can in turn end cycles of poverty. “We don’t do it for them, but we teach them how to do it,” Castro said. “To me, that’s our community impact. It goes beyond economics, job creation, sales dollars. I think that when you have a stable family, you have a stable community, and then you look to give back to that community.”

Castro added, “As a nonprofit, we serve the client. We’re looking for the best way to impact the community to grow. It also gives us more credibility within the Hispanic community, that we’re actually out there to help them instead of taking advantage of them.”

There are a variety of reasons these populations may require the center’s help when conducting their business. It is difficult for them to access capital. Regulations are troublesome to understand and almost always changing.

Compliance is one of the main challenges these entrepreneurs face because there are regulations that the Utah Department of Commerce asks business owners to follow that may not be in other states, and that definitely aren’t in other countries.

Business regulations in Utah can change without notification, and it is necessary to keep up with them in order to be compliant and to stay in business. Antonella Packard, the lead business advisor and teacher at the center, said business regulations can be complex. “It’s always going to feel like a stink bomb being dropped in the middle of a room because it’s like ‘Oh, really? I didn’t know that I wasn’t complying, what do I do now?’ Don’t worry, we can help.”

The Suazo Business Center offers a variety of services. It offers six-month-long trainings with either a startup or growth track and one-time workshops that focus on specific topics. The center’s business financing will assist those looking for loans or grants.

The center also does one-on-one business advising where clients are able to have their specific concerns reviewed. These sessions help immigrants and refugees understand how entrepreneurship works in this country. Castro said, “Navigating this government regulation can already be rough. Imagine English is your second language.”

The Suazo Business Center is not the only organization in Utah that is dedicated to helping Hispanic entrepreneurs. The Utah Hispanic Chamber of Commerce is a network of entrepreneurs who seek to increase their business opportunities by providing trainings, scholarships, and market research.

UHCC provides networking avenues, while the center works more on business development. “Our focus is different,” Castro said. “We want to make sure that they (entrepreneurs) have an up and running business first, so our priorities are a little different.”

Alex Guzman, president and CEO of the chamber, said about the center, “We have a very nice and good relationship. We should collaborate and make it a bit better, but in reality, we kind of compete. So rather than help my colleague grow, I’m a little bit selfish. But in business, it helps to be selfish. I’d rather keep that customer for the chamber.”

No matter what organization provides these entrepreneurs with resources to help their businesses grow, it is crucial that it is happening at all. Castro said, “When we talk about the Latino community, it’s always in a negative light. Yet what we see here day in and day out, it’s the things that really should be more out in the public.”

Business group leads minority members of the Utah community

Slideshow and story by WOO SANG KIM

Salt Lake City Pacific Island Business Alliance (SLCPIBA) opens the door for minorities by giving people networking and mentorship chances.

Tracy Altman, manager of government programs at the University of Utah Health Plans, said the business alliance connect Pacific Islanders and the rest of minority members to this community. In short, SLCPIBA bridges communities in finance, business, retail, service, real estate, mortgage, nonprofits, government entities, healthcare, insurance and food service.

Altman also said training, learning, podcasting and profiting are the goals of this group. The members exchange employment chances, startup ideas and interviewing tricks with each other. Altman said mentoring happens too.

“Companies get together to help new organizations become popular and stronger and to access the mayor of Salt Lake City and Salt Lake County. They teach skills for small business owners and find jobs for refugee groups,” Altman said.

Pioneer Rugby 7s, a rugby tournament for men, women, and youths of all ages, was sponsored by this group to distribute 600-1,000 T-shirts. “It teaches people how to get along and work as a group. It also helps to build character and teach kids to learn how to follow through an example. It helps the underserved community,” Altman said.

The tournament also hosts an afterschool program. “Children with autism talks to us to play rugby. It’s a success story because we show them that the work can be done. We sponsor more opportunities than just handing out T-shirts,” Altman said.

The group typically meets from 8-9 a.m. on the first Thursday of each month at different locations. One meeting took place at Oish Barbershop at 4300 3500 South in West Valley City. “We plan the event, conduct the meetings and facilitate the business. It is a community locale where people come out to hang out. They have pool tables and a lounge. People go there and just relax,” Altman said.

Susie Feltch-Malohifo’ou, executive director of Pacific Island Knowledge 2 Action Resources (PIK2AR), and Agnes Lomu-Penitani, employer coordinator at the Refugee Services Office and secretary of PIK2AR, created this group in 2016. Lomu-Penitani said it serves to teach blue-and white-collar workers available resources and services of many departments.

Lomu-Penitani connects refugees to possible employers. “I focus specifically on employers willing to partner with us in helping refugees with transportation, culture and English.”

However, this friendship is not for everyone. “We look for something else. We look for employers who give up their time to contribute to the community and people. If not, the business alliance is not for you,” Lomu-Penitani said.

Altman said four types of membership exist: volunteer, emerging, enterprise, and enterprise plus. Emerging is $195, enterprise is $295 and enterprise plus is $495. There are about 30 members.

SLCPIBA is divided into groups. “African-American and Hispanic chambers are focused more on generating profits, but we are focused in education. We look to recruit those who want to give back to the community,” Lomu-Penitani said.

Puanani Mateaki, a substitute teacher at Granite School District and Salt Lake City School District, connects with those in her field. She said she plans to speak to a real estate broker because his team has an opening. She is interested in working in Park City markets, so her appointments are based in that area.

Mateaki also gained a lot through participating. “A conference channeled me to meet Mitt Romney and a wide variety of people. Real estate is all about contacts. Increasing the contact and networking has been a great help,” Mateaki said.

Other members gained, too. “I got connected to businesses through our department. I helped those in power to connect to refugees and to get refugees hired,” Lomu-Penitani said.

SLCPIBA even created an online shopping network. “We connected a woman who sells jewelry to online shopping center. She gathered a lot of customers,” Lomu-Penitani said.

The organization offers free training in many fields. “We offer free photos, business cards, and trainings that cost thousands of dollars. We also offer access to the city council and national entity representatives,” Altman said.

The group, however, is still setting up and has imperfections. “I think that the weakness is getting more memberships and not having an establishment of our own. The problem is all of us work. We have full-time jobs. It’s hard to juggle regular jobs and family lives continually so not having an office is negative. It is something we should work on. Signing up people to be a member is the most difficult part,” Lomu-Penitani said.

Feltch-Malohifo’ou tries to set up a system. “Susie sends out emails inquiring people to work for us. She makes sure that the organization is working by sending out surveys to make sure people get something out from us,” Altman said.

The members are fond of the organization. “This group is unique and positive. It doesn’t matter what else is going on. This is a way for people to get together, no pressure, in the business community. It’s really positive,” Altman said.

Mateaki commented, “I love it so far.”

A strong, interdependent atmosphere creates a synergy overall. “You come in, give hugs, different from handshakes. Culturally we hug or kiss on cheeks when we meet someone for the first time,” Lomu-Penitani said.

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Strong spirited Islanders strive for freedom in the “land of the free”

Story and photos by HANNAH CHRISTENSEN

Pacific Islanders who leave their homes and villages in search of a better life in Utah often experience culture shock and feel “stuck,” with no idea of what to do next.

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Martha and Mike Meredith at their home in Millcreek, Utah.

Mike and Martha Meredith are Pacific Islanders who have overcome many social barriers in order to be living comfortably in Millcreek, Utah. Martha vividly remembers her father cutting down and cracking coconuts in Tonga and then watching her mother clean them out. Martha was 10 when her family left Tonga and moved to New Zealand.

That’s where she met Mike. Mike was born in American Samoa but grew up in European Samoa until his family moved to New Zealand when he was 13. Martha recalled, “My family went through several migrations, first among the islands, then in New Zealand, and finally to America. My sister came first, then my parents. Mike and I were married and we had two little children and a third on the way when we came. We had no idea what on earth we were getting into.”

These migrations seemed so natural for their families, Martha explained, but when they got to America and it was so vastly different, they felt isolated and trapped. They weren’t sure how to assimilate while remaining true to their cultural practices.

Matapuna Levenson, a lead advocate at the Salt Lake Area Family Justice Center, said, “Culture is living. It is not stagnant. We don’t stay the same. Pacific Islanders are navigators. We were the greatest ocean navigators in the world. We are explorers. So the idea of just staying the same, staying in one place, staying in one mindset, is so contradictory to the values that our culture is perpetuating and encouraging, what our ancestors were hoping for us.”

And now that these navigators are here, pursuing the American dream, what can they do? Where can they turn for help?

Jake Fitisemanu Jr., a clinical manager with Health Clinics of Utah, Utah Department of Health, said it is difficult for Pacific Islanders to navigate a social system that has completely different values because they aren’t sure how to do their part. In a village, everyone has their role and every role contributes to the overall wellness of the village.

According to the Utah Department of Health, “the overall proportion of NHPIs (Native Hawaiian Pacific Islanders) in Salt Lake City is greater than [in] any other city in the continental U.S.” One would assume that having a larger population would mean people have a community, a place to go, individuals who want to help. But what happens when those who came before you still feel adrift and disillusioned?

Fitisemanu wants to empower people who feel misplaced or lost. “I’m interested in mobilizing communities for political power, because this is the United States, that’s how it works here.” Fitisemanu sees the bigger picture after working for the government in the health department and as a city councilman for West Valley City. If the goal is getting Pacific Islanders to feel comfortable utilizing resources, then including them in the governing structure is one good way to do that.

Mike Meredith is another advocate for Pacific Islanders. He served on an advisory board for the Pacific Island community in Utah that focused on ways to improve education and resources for their communities. Because of his service on the board, Mike knows the issues that make it difficult for Pacific Islanders to start looking for resources, even if they are available.

“Especially in Utah, there’s a vast window that is open for them,” Mike said. “But one of the fears is picking up the phone, calling and setting up an appointment or approaching where there is help and seeking that. But it’s not really fear, it’s just something that’s in them, because they’ve lived in villages. You can go from home to the beach and throw in a fishing rod. Where here it’s wide open. They don’t know where to go or who to talk to.”

While it is true that the Pacific Islander population creates a place for tribal identification and emotional resources, Mike said there is confusion about how the American educational system applies. “The old tradition comes into this country and it’s difficult. Folks come in and think ‘you should have your kids finish school and then send them to work.’ That’s what we did back home. But that’s not the case that’s required here. To grow and progress you need education.”

Mike added that Pacific Islander parents lack the understanding of the benefits of graduating from college and entering the professional workforce. The family culture creates alternatives to college graduation and training required for high-level jobs, resulting in economic instability. The impact on families without sufficient financial stability affects all aspects of life — housing, medical care, food security — not to mention future school and work opportunities.

The Merediths are an exception because Mike was able to graduate with a degree in engineering and have a prosperous career. But he says this ethos was not easy to pass along even to his own children. And it is much more difficult for parents who feel at sea here in the high desert of Utah. Yet he still believes that Pacific Islanders can have it both ways — in his case American prosperity, along with a strong commitment to the values, mythologies, rituals and symbols at the heart of his Samoan-Maori culture and Martha’s Tongan culture.

Activists like the Merediths, Levenson, and Fitisemanu lead the way by empowering and educating Pacific Islanders. Fitisemanu said it is important to continue tradition while also moving forward. “We’re walking into the future backwards,” he said. “That’s how Polynesians see time. This is how we stay connected. Even though we’re moving in distance and in time into the future, we’re always facing the past.” Maintaining this connectedness while moving forward propels Pacific Islanders toward their dreams.

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A quote from Matapuna Levenson, lead advocate at the Salt Lake Area Family & Justice Center.

Refugee Services Office, Catholic Community Services support integration of refugees in Utah

Story and slideshow by BLAKE LANCASTER

When a refugee resettles in a new country, oftentimes they are in a new community with new rules, a new language and a new culture. How do they approach this challenging situation and become integrated members of American society? Organizations such as Utah’s Refugee Services Office can help with the transition.

Gerald Brown is currently an assistant director and state refugee coordinator at the Refugee Services Office, which is one of these organizations. The Refugee Services Office help refugees learn English, find and gain skills for employment and build connections with locals who can help show them the way things work in their new community.

Brown became interested in working with refugees during a year-long trip to Egypt with the YMCA where he experienced a culture with hardship unlike what we know in America. This sparked his passion for social justice. He went on the service trip expecting to help people, but when he finished he realized he learned the most.

Since his eye-opening service trip, Brown has worked in refugee agencies from Houston to New York to Cuba before becoming one of the godfathers of major Utah refugee programs.

For several years, Utah held monthly town hall meetings to discuss the state of refugee resettlement programs in Utah. In 2008, Gov. Jon Huntsman Jr. approved the addition of refugee services and Brown was appointed to direct and lead the new program toward success.

Brown hasn’t stopped serving refugees since then and can be credited with the efficient success the Refugee Services Offices is able to accomplish when it comes to the integration process.

“If you can accomplish integration, then you have the strongest community possible,” Brown said.

From all of his experiences, one of the things Brown has learned that he stresses is understanding the important distinction between integration and assimilation.

Integration can be defined as incorporating individuals from different groups into a society as equals. Though similar, assimilation means to adopt the ways of the new culture and fully become part of it resulting in an immense loss of cultural identity.

Danielle Stamos, public relations and marketing director for Catholic Community Services, said it is important we make it acceptable and comfortable for refugees to continue their traditions and maintain their culture.

“Not only do they preserve their culture, but they also share their culture with the community in Utah,” Stamos said. “I love when we see refugee communities creating their own events taking some of their traditions from their own countries and implementing them here.”

Catholic Community Services is another organization with programs in place to help refugees integrate into Utah. Catholic Community Services provides case managers to refugees as they are resettled in Utah who help them get on their feet. They provide them with housing, teach them the way the American system works when it comes to everyday life, help them learn the language, find them jobs, and much more.

One way Stamos suggested the everyday community member could help with integration is approaching refugees and being welcoming and friendly. If, however, you’re really feeling ambitious and eager to get involved, finding an organization that helps refugees and interests you to volunteer with can be rewarding to all parties involved.

“Once you work one-on-one with a refugee you can see daily how easy it can be to help support them in their goals and support them in maintaining their culture,” Stamos said. “There will always be a lot of fear out there of change and things that are different, but if we instead embrace it we can see how much more strong and beautiful our community and relationships can be if we share and work together.”

Nirmala Kattel provides a unique understanding of assisting the integration process of refugees as she is a refugee herself as well as an employee at the Refugee Education and Training Center.

The Refugee Education and Training Center is located at the Meadowbrook campus of Salt Lake Community College where Kattel also attends as a student. Kattel said one of the center’s most popular services utilized by refugees is help with jobs similar to Catholic Community Services, but the Education and Training Center is there to help after refugees no longer have their initial case manager.

Another popular service at the center that Kattel has noticed are the English classes. Some refugees come with very limited knowledge of the English language, which is a key hurdle for refugees to clear as once they can surpass the language barrier, it makes the rest of the steps in the integration process a little easier.

Kattel came to Utah as a refugee from Nepal in 2009 and quickly learned that isolation is another of the bigger barriers refugees face upon arrival for her and other refugees alike. She had to wait six years before the rest of her family was able to resettle in America.

“Refugees who come alone feel isolated and depressed missing their families and their past lives, so involvement and engagement in outside activities can help them through these feelings,” Kattel said.

Kattel said the elderly refugees can especially struggle with the isolation and loneliness. Since they don’t have a job or school to go to, it confines their reasons to leave their home. This seclusion can lead to difficulties with learning English and understanding the system of our community as a whole.

“The system is hard to understand at first. Refugees from almost everywhere come from somewhere with a totally different system in their countries or the refugee camps they waited in before coming here,” Kattel said.

Showing interest in refugees as a person and who they are culturally can help them with almost all of their integration barriers. Additionally, it can make them feel more comfortable in sharing their culture with their new community. Kattel said a friend with experience in the community always proves to be a valuable asset to refugees trying to make sense of their new home and sharing their cultural values.

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What happens to refugees who come to Utah?

Story and photo by BLAKE HANSEN

The trek out of danger is only the first step for refugees. Once they arrive in the U.S. it becomes difficult to navigate a new culture, utilize assets and stay afloat. Doctors and lawyers who were once able to comfortably use their education and expertise to take care of their families are left to work minimum wage and start completely over.

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A Colombian refugee living in Salt Lake City.

According to the UN Refugee Agency (UNHCR), “The total number is slightly greater than 1.2 million which is above 2017 levels and reflects needs from 63 countries of asylum, from both protracted and more recent refugee situations.”

While some suffering and fear for life may stop upon arrival to the U.S., refugees are faced with a new and unique set of challenges. Some have come with families to provide for, some have come alone, but one thing is always common and it is that these refugees are in a unique, new place with a new set of survival tasks. No longer can they put together tin huts, wait for UN resources to keep them alive, and exist with so many other people in their same situation.

For many refugees who haven’t had much time with the language or culture, they can sometimes find it difficult to look for employment here. Their skills, degrees, and certificates, most of the time, are invalid in the U.S. as well. It is very possible for more refugees to make it here and to flourish but without local help from individual mentorship and entity funding, it is near very difficult.

Jadee Talbot, director of refugee programs at the Granite School District on the southwest end of Salt Lake City, said, “We have had a lot of success with different programs we run here for the refugee community.” The school district manages an app called “Serve Refugees”, which provides information for after-school programs as well as other programs around the community that help refugees integrate. The district has five main community centers, one at each school, and they offer different types of classes for kids, parents and refugees in general, teaching things like computer literacy and different ESL courses as well, all free of charge.

At the Refugee Services office in Salt Lake City, many refugees are receiving help finding housing, jobs and transportation. The department and other organizations like it are helping refugees to get help with some of the essential parts of living in the U.S. but there is still much more needed to help these people integrate fully into society.

Gerald Brown is the state refugee coordinator for the Refugee Services office and he says jobs are slowly getting easier to find. But this isn’t happening without a lot of hard work from programs like the one that Brown runs which help provide refugees with employment in hotels and restaurants doing things like cleaning.

Brown went on to explain that the work they do is meant to teach the refugees how to become self reliant. Refugees are usually supported for about six to eight months before they have to be cut off from funding and assume responsibility for themselves. This time is crucial for both program administrators like Brown and the refugees receiving support to learn and develop the skills needed to prosper in the U.S.

They start to learn English if they don’t already know it, they learn about how to transport themselves, where things are, how to shop, as well as what kinds of skills they have and where they can be utilized for employment locally.

“Programs like this don’t typically do enough for the refugees, simply because the resources can only go so far. At the end of the day, a doctor from Somalia cannot practice here in the U.S. Some refugees come from such starkly different backgrounds and cultures that they don’t know how to get anywhere once they leave their apartments other than by walking. They almost always cannot make enough money to support themselves, let alone families.” Brown said.

Community members also can help refugees integrate into the Salt Lake Valley by volunteering with organizations such as the Refugee Services office. They are always looking for volunteers as well as donations of different types. Many people who cannot volunteer due to varying circumstances, who would otherwise enjoy volunteering can always donate to any of the agencies in town who help refugees to settle in and get to living a normal life and those donations are always greatly appreciated.