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57–483 PDF 

" ! COMMITTEE PRINT 

111TH CONGRESS

2d Session 

S. PRT. 

2010

111–52 

ABANDONED UPON ARRIVAL: IMPLICATIONS FOR REFUGEES AND LOCAL 

COMMUNITIES BURDENED BY A U.S. 

RESETTLEMENT SYSTEM THAT IS NOT 

WORKING 

A REPORT 

TO THE MEMBERS 

OF THE 

COMMITTEE ON FOREIGN RELATIONS 

UNITED STATES SENATE 

ONE HUNDRED ELEVENTH CONGRESS

SECOND SESSION

JULY 21, 2010 

Printed for the use of the Committee on Foreign Relations 

Available via World Wide Web: 

http://www.gpoaccess.gov/congress/index.html 


seneagle
COMMITTEE ON FOREIGN RELATIONS

JOHN F. KERRY, Massachusetts, Chairman

CHRISTOPHER J. DODD, Connecticut 

RUSSELL D. FEINGOLD, Wisconsin 

BARBARA BOXER, California 

ROBERT MENENDEZ, New Jersey 

BENJAMIN L. CARDIN, Maryland 

ROBERT P. CASEY, JR., Pennsylvania 

JIM WEBB, Virginia 

JEANNE SHAHEEN, New Hampshire 

EDWARD E. KAUFMAN, Delaware 

KIRSTEN E. GILLIBRAND, New York 

RICHARD G. LUGAR, Indiana 

BOB CORKER, Tennessee 

JOHNNY ISAKSON, Georgia 

JAMES E. RISCH, Idaho 

JIM DEMINT, South Carolina 

JOHN BARRASSO, Wyoming 

ROGER F. WICKER, Mississippi 

JAMES M. INHOFE, Oklahoma 

FRANK G. LOWENSTEIN, Staff Director

KENNETH A. MYERS, JR., Republican Staff Director

(II)

C O N T E N T S 

Page 

Letter of Transmittal ............................................................................................... v 

Introduction .............................................................................................................. 1 

Findings .................................................................................................................... 2 

Recommendations .................................................................................................... 4 

Overview ................................................................................................................... 6 

Case Study: Fort Wayne, Indiana ................................................................... 7 

Case Study: Clarkston, Georgia ...................................................................... 11 

Conclusion ................................................................................................................ 14 

Acknowledgements .................................................................................................. 15 

Appendix I—Summary of Refugee Admissions as of 30 April, 2010 ................... 17 

Appendix II—Official Letter from City of Fort Wayne, Indiana .......................... 19 

Appendix III—Refugee Article in the News-Sentinel ........................................... 21 

Appendix IV—Refugee Article in the Journal Gazette ......................................... 23 

Appendix V—Refugee Article in the New York Times ......................................... 24 

Appendix VI—Legislation Introduced in the Georgia General Assembly, April 

2003 ....................................................................................................................... 37 

Appendix VII—Acronyms ........................................................................................ 38 

(III)

LETTER OF TRANSMITTAL 

UNITED STATES SENATE, COMMITTEE ON FOREIGN RELATIONS, Washington, DC, July 21, 2010. 

DEAR COLLEAGUES: Since 1975, the United States has offered 

safe-haven to nearly 3 million refugees who faced persecution in 

Communist-controlled and conflict-ridden regions of the world. This 

resettlement reflects our Nation’s noblest humanitarian traditions, 

and should continue. But we must acknowledge that significant 

costs are associated with this activity. 

After consulting with community stakeholders in Indiana and 

elsewhere, and in light of the recent Presidential directive authorizing the admission of up to 80,000 refugees in FY 2010, I asked 

the Foreign Relations Committee minority staff, who have long 

monitored the conditions of vulnerable refugee populations during 

their travels, under the leadership of professional staff member 

Garrett Johnson to assess the government’s policies and programs 

for refugee admission and resettlement. Staff found that resettlement efforts in some U.S. cities are underfunded, overstretched, 

and failing to meet the basic needs of the refugee populations they 

are currently asked to assist. Especially in a difficult economic climate, the current structure of the U.S. resettlement system is proving a strain on local resources and community relations. 

As a former mayor, I am sensitive to the challenges faced by resettlement cities in Indiana and across the country. U.S. refugee 

policies and procedures are determined at the Federal level, but 

the burdens of addressing the unique needs of refugees after they 

arrive are passed on to local communities, often without their consent. Some resettled refugees are illiterate in their native language 

or suffer from severe physical or mental ailments and many are illequipped to secure employment in an increasingly competitive job 

market. The financial and mentoring assistance required to help 

this population achieve self-sufficiency exceeds the resources currently provided by the Federal Government. 

In Fort Wayne, IN, educators working with large refugee populations resettled in the city have expressed frustration because they 

lack the time and tools to address the extraordinary needs of refugee students. Poor performances on mandated standardized tests 

by some recently arrived refugee students, who often lack basic 

education after languishing in refugee camps for a decade or more, 

are negatively impacting the overall scores and reputations of 

schools. Public health officials also have raised concerns that some 

refugee populations, who have been found to suffer from elevated 

rates of latent tuberculosis (TB), are not undergoing adequate 

prearrival screening or properly monitoring their own treatment. 

Consequently, they face a higher risk of developing active TB, 

which is contagious and a potential health threat to the general 

population. 

(V)

vi 

The administration must demonstrate clearly to Congress and resettlement communities how federal resources will be better 

matched with refugee admissions. In order to supplement this report and the administration’s inquiry, I have also asked the Government Accountability Office to undertake a comprehensive review of the U.S. refugee resettlement system. In the future, the administration may determine that an increase in Federal funding or 

decrease in refugee admissions is warranted. But the practice of 

passing the costs of resettling refugees on to local communities 

should not continue. 

I was pleased to learn recently that Representative Anh ‘‘Joseph’’ 

Cao of Louisiana, who fled Communist-controlled Vietnam in 1975 

as a refugee, was sponsored by a family from Goshen, IN, and 

spent many of his formative years as a Hoosier. His success and 

service as the first Vietnamese-American Member of Congress exemplifies the potential benefits gained by our country through offering safe haven to the persecuted of the world. The administration and Congress must ensure that the refugee resettlement system is properly structured so that it continues to be perceived as 

a benefit and not a burden. 

This report and its recommendations are particularly timely 

given that discussions on reforming the refugee resettlement system have been initiated within the administration. I look forward 

to continuing to work with you on these issues, and I welcome any 

comments you have. 

Sincerely, 

RICHARD G. LUGAR, Ranking Member. 

(1) 

ABANDONED UPON ARRIVAL: IMPLICATIONS FOR REFUGEES AND LOCAL COMMUNITIES BURDENED BY A U.S. 

RESETTLEMENT SYSTEM THAT IS NOT WORKING 

INTRODUCTION

The United States, historically, is a nation of immigrants. In recent decades, however, it has also become a nation of refugees. 

Since 1975, the year in which hundreds of thousands of persons 

from Communist-controlled Vietnam started arriving on our shores, 

the United States has officially accepted for resettlement roughly 

2.9 million refugees from strife-torn countries around the world. 

The United States has resettled more refugees than any other 

country. 

Legally, a refugee is someone admitted to the United States after 

Federal agencies have made a determination that he or she has 

been persecuted or has well-founded fear of potential persecution 

based on race, nationality, religion, membership in a particular 

group or political opinion and is unable or unwilling to return to 

their country of origin. By contrast, the majority of immigrants allowed to enter America generally decide to relocate for family reunion or economic reasons. 

But experience has shown that there are also important qualitative differences between the two groups. Some refugee populations currently arriving in the United States have languished in 

refugee camps for nearly a decade or more. They are reported to 

have a much greater need for prolonged government support if they 

are to become conversant, employed and self-sufficient. Some are illiterate in their native language, these refugees have limited formal education, suffer from serious health or psychological conditions and lack the basic skills required to compete in an increasingly strained job market. 

In order to better understand the challenges confronting resettlement cities and the refugees admitted to the United States, Senator Richard Lugar, ranking member of the Senate Foreign Relations Committee, asked staff to assess the government’s policies 

and programs for refugee admissions and resettlement. This study 

finds that resettlement efforts in many U.S. cities are underfunded, 

overstretched, and failing to meet the basic needs of the refugee 

populations they are currently asked to assist. Especially in a difficult economic climate, the study recommends that the Federal 

Government do more to support and resource the local communities 

who bear the responsibilities of receiving this increased flow. This 

study concludes that the policies promulgated in the Refugee Act 

of 1980 and the current system of refugee processing, orientation, 

placement, and resettlement assistance are out-dated and fail to 

address the needs of the culturally and linguistically diverse populations now being admitted to the United States. 

2 

1 Adess, S. et al. (2009). ‘‘Refugee Crisis in America: Iraqis and Their Resettlement Experience.’’ Washington, DC: Georgetown Law, available at www.law.georgetown.edu/news/.../ 

RefugeeCrisisinAmerical000.pdf. 2Farrell, M. et al. (2008). ‘‘The Evaluation of the Refugee Social Services (RSS) and Targeted 

Assistance Formula Grant (TAG) Programs: Synthesis of Findings From Three Sites.’’ (Prepared 

by the Lewin Group and commissioned by the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services.) 

Available at www.lewin.com/content/publications/3871.pdf. 

This report will attempt to underscore a number of critical challenges confronting the refugee resettlement system and offer recommendations for better supporting local resettlement communities 

as well as improving the quality of assistance offered to refugees 

admitted to the United States. 

FINDINGS

1. Under current practice, the Federal Government works with 

national voluntary organizations, including faith-based groups, to 

decide on where to send refugees for resettlement. These newcomers place demands, sometimes significant, on local schools, police, hospitals and social services. Local governments are often burdened with the weight of addressing the unique assistance refugees 

require, yet they rarely have an official role in influencing how 

many refugees are resettled by local voluntary agencies and often 

are not even informed in advance that new residents will be arriving. 

2. Although the ability to communicate—even on a basic level— 

is essential to the survival of refugee populations (e.g., access to 

employment for adults and educational opportunities for youth), resources for language instruction are inadequate. Unlike migrants 

in search of economic opportunities, who can often access extensive 

friend and family networks to navigate language or other cultural 

barriers, new refugee populations lack this type of community resource upon arrival. The language barrier often impedes the ability 

of refugees to navigate local health care systems with a potential 

wide impact on the general public health. Interviews conducted for 

this study with law enforcement officials also revealed grave public 

safety concerns, as language barriers often limit the ability of officers to communicate with refugees during emergency situations. 

A 2009 study completed by the Georgetown Law Human Rights 

Institute, based on consultations with Iraqi refugee communities in 

Washington, DC, Detroit, San Diego, and the country of Jordan, 

found that ‘‘refugees have difficulty accessing English language 

training, the quality of instruction is poor, and there are simply not 

enough classes available for all refugees.’’ 1A 2008 study commissioned by the Office of Refugee Resettlement within the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services clearly noted that refugees arriving with some level of English proficiency, as well as 

those who receive ESL services, often have better outcomes.2

3. At present, efforts to address the special needs of refugee students are ad hoc, a drain on local education funding, and implemented in the absence of data-driven best practices. Within the cities examined for this report, several schools labeled as failing or 

facing imminent risk of being taken over by state authorities have 

a high refugee student population. School administrators complained that refugee students—sometimes within weeks of arriving 

in the United States—are required to take standardized tests and 

3 

3 In January, PRM increased the total Reception and Placement grant from $900 to $1,800. 

Of this amount, the local resettlement agency can use up to $700 to cover administrative expenses (i.e., salaries, rent, utilities, supplies, etc.). The remaining $1,100 must be spent on behalf of refugees. On a pilot basis, PRM gave local resettlement agencies some spending flexibility—requiring at least $900 to be spent on each refugee and the balance of $200 may be spent 

on other cases requiring additional financial assistance. 

their often poor performance is detrimental to the school’s overall 

score. School administrators also reported receiving little to no additional Federal or State resources to increase staffing levels and 

offer additional assistance addressing the psycho-social-cultural 

needs of refugee students. 

4. Currently, irrespective of important factors such as education 

level, health condition or psychological background each refugee is 

initially afforded one-size-fits-all assistance. Further, resettlement 

locations are provided very little, if any, prearrival information regarding these important factors, which could help the city to better 

prepare its social service infrastructure in anticipation of increased 

demands. For example, in Fort Wayne, IN, a pattern of elevated 

rates of hepatitis B among the Burmese was simply ‘‘stumbled 

upon’’ by local public health officials. The costly treatment associated with this life-long condition presents another significant cost 

the local community will be forced to bear. 

Unfortunately, federal funding formulas used to forecast resources provided to resettlement cities have proven too inflexible 

and backward-looking to respond to such public health concerns. 

The issue of monitoring when and where refugees move after they 

are initially resettled in the United States, known as secondary migration, also presents a critical challenge to the backward-looking 

funding system. Secondary migration within the first 8 months of 

resettlement can create hidden populations of unsupported refugees. There is currently no system in place to transfer refugee entitlement benefits (e.g., medical insurance, housing support, welfare 

support) from State to State, placing a further unexpected strain 

on communities. 

5. The initial per capita grant awarded directly to refugees for the first 30–90 days after arrival was increased from roughly $450 

to $1,100 in January 2010.3 Prior to this increase, refugees were 

essentially consigned to poverty upon entering the United States, 

as the decades-old grant level had declined by more than 50 percent in real terms due to inflation. However, this increase, although welcomed, is proving to only delay the incidence of poverty, 

as many refugees lack a legitimate shot at becoming employed, conversant, and self-sufficient under the current system. 

6. There is limited Federal funding available to support programs that assist refugees after the initial resettlement assistance 

expires. Resources that exist are often not widely advertised, difficult to access and no technical assistance is made available to 

help local communities with submitting grant applications. 

7. From the perspective of local resettlement cities, it is clear 

that the Federal Government has failed to communicate what actions, if any, are being taken to build a resettlement system capable of accommodating the refugees authorized by the presidential 

directive for FY 2010, without placing additional strain on local 

community resources and detracting from the services extended to 

current refugees in-country. 

4 

4PRM Official Document obtained in April 2010, ‘‘FY 2010 Affiliate/Sub-Office Abstract.’’ 

RECOMMENDATIONS

1. Enhance Formal Consultations with State and Local Leaders: 

The Bureau of Population Refugees and Migration (PRM) within 

the Department of State should restructure the process by which 

refugee resettlement is determined to include formal participation 

and consent from local leaders. Currently, voluntary agencies funded to provide placement services are only required by PRM to, in 

writing, briefly: 

Describe the date, content, and results of consultative 

discussions undertaken by the affiliate with state and local 

officials in preparing this proposal, including the response 

of the state refugee coordinator. For new sites, include evidence of consultations with and support of other local affiliates, refugee and community service providers, and the 

state refugee coordinator.4

The restructured process should require local resettlement agencies to formally consult with state and local officials/service providers in the resettlement site area regarding the proposed number 

and backgrounds of refugees to be resettled in the area. The qualitative and quantitative input given by local communities should be 

included as part of the Refugee Funding Proposals (RFPs) submitted by resettlement agencies. 

The refugee coordinators in each state and PRM representatives 

should verify that the consultations took place and that the views 

of the officials/service providers are accurately characterized in the 

RFPs. In cases of irreconcilable opinions amongst key stakeholders 

regarding absorptive capacity, the state refugee coordinator should 

be able to request a moratorium for the community. During this deferral period, PRM should engage community leaders and voluntary agencies in order to achieve consensus. The moratorium 

would make exception for cases of immediate family reunification. 

2. Improve Access to English as Second Language (ESL) Courses: 

The administration should consider strategies, informed by best 

practices, for providing prearrival language instruction and enhanced access to longer term ESL classes once resettled so that 

more refugees are placed on a path to proficiency and eventual selfsufficiency. Among the top priorities of such strategies, as suggested by experts consulted for this report, should be allocating 

funding specifically for refugee language training and exploring 

ways to make some public assistance offered to refugees conditional 

upon ESL class attendance to incentivize proficiency. Courses 

should meet basic qualification standards in order to ensure quality 

control. 

3. Invest in Education: The administration should formulate national strategies, consistent with best practices, for engaging 

schools that are tasked with meeting the unique psycho-social-cultural needs of refugee students, so as not to detract from the quality of instruction offered to the general student population. Among 

5 

5The recommendations reflect the opinions of educators from East Allen Community Schools 

and Fort Wayne Community Schools. 

the top priorities of such strategies, as suggested by educators consulted for this report 5, should be efforts which: 

A. Create a ‘‘new-comers’’ program that delays the immersion of some refugee youth into the general student population 

and provides them, in a separated environment, instructors 

and curricula informed by best practices. Implemented with 

Federal funding, the program would evaluate each refugee’s 

educational, psychological, and physiological status as well as 

provide intensive academic, cultural, and English language instruction. 

B. Grant waivers to some refugee youth, under conditions determined by a panel of experts, exempting their scores on mandated standardized tests from negatively influencing overall 

school performance due to the often extraordinary circumstances surrounding their initial resettlement. 

C. Increase funding and support for adult educational and 

vocational training as well as recertification programs for nontraditional refugee students. Encourage ESL training that is 

linked to prevocational education in order to facilitate learning 

for employment. 

4. Discard One-Size-Fits-All Approach: The overall resettlement 

system must be structured to identify and address the diverse 

needs of resettling populations. This should involve overseas gathering of information that is used to help local communities plan for 

and better meet refugee needs. Both the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR) and Overseas Processing Entities 

(OPE) currently interview refugees and asylum—seekers numerous 

times and at length throughout the adjudication process and before 

admission. Additional information could be collected either at the 

level of OPE processing and/or to be completed by UNHCR when 

completing the resettlement referral form. ORR, state refugee coordinators, local officials and voluntary agencies should be consulted 

in determining what type of information would be helpful to improving local service delivery and capacity planning. Additionally, 

this information should inform broad strategic planning before 

processing and placement begins. 

The administration should also ensure that funding formulas 

used to forecast resources provided to resettlement cities are more 

flexible, forward-looking and responsive to secondary migration 

flows. 

5. Improve Accountability: The administration should examine: 

A. Institutional processes and practices of voluntary agencies, including but not limited to factors that influence the 

scope of an agency’s annual refugee resettlement proposal submitted to PRM, organizational structure, and administrative 

overhead to ensure an adherence to best practices and a resettlement program that is sensitive to local community capacity. 

B. Oversight and accountability metrics used by PRM for 

monitoring voluntary agencies as well as mechanisms for assessing internal strengths and inefficiencies within PRM’s administrative processes, the nature of PRM’s consultations with 

6 

6See appendix I. ‘‘PRM Office of Admission—Refugee Processing Center, Summary of Refugee 

Admissions as of 30 April 2010.’’ 

local and state elected officials, and the factors influencing the 

annual cap of refugees admitted to the United States. 

C. Mechanisms used for assessing internal strengths and inefficiencies in the Office of Refugee Resettlement (ORR) within 

the Department of Health and Human Services, the nature of 

ORR’s consultations with local and state elected officials, and 

the extent of ORR’s capacity to oversee voluntary agency 

grantees, address the unique needs of refugees, fact-find into 

community capacity shortfalls as well as monitor the impact of 

secondary migration—potentially through some type of targeted census. 

D. Metrics for evaluating refugee integration, including but 

not limited to qualitative and quantitative measurements of 

employment levels, language acquisition, community interaction, etc. 

E. Interagency coordination, including information-sharing 

and planning-coordination between ORR and PRM as well as 

the potential value added by establishing a centralized position 

to coordinate long- and short-term refugee policy housed within 

or reportable to the White House. 

6. Explore Innovative Models: The administration should engage 

State and local leaders with experience and expertise advancing 

local solutions to the challenges currently under review at the Federal level. The development and implementation of innovative resettlement models that incorporate lessons learned informed by 

grassroots experimentation should be encouraged and resourced. 

7. Promote Community Engagement: The administration should 

require voluntary agencies to submit as part of their annual proposals a ‘‘community engagement strategy,’’ which delineates concrete plans for increasing public awareness of and interaction with 

refugees, in order to achieve greater community cohesion. Unfortunately, the onus of initiating and funding this type of intercultural 

awareness and engagement is often left to individuals and community organizations and is usually ad hoc at best. 

Providing opportunities for established residents and families to 

engage members of the refugee population will help to demystify 

preconceptions and make integration more achievable. Encouraging 

face-to-face interactions between individuals or small groups can 

also make inter-ethnic encounters less intimidating for all participants. 

OVERVIEW

The United States has welcomed nearly 3 million refugees to this 

country since the 1970s, demonstrating our Nation’s commitment 

to protecting those who face persecution throughout the world.6

But what becomes of the refugees and the locations in which they 

settle after they arrive? 

A 2009 study conducted by Georgetown Law Human Rights Institute, based on consultation with Iraqi refugee communities in 

Washington, DC, Detroit, San Diego, and the country of Jordan, offered the following findings: 

7 

7 Adess, S. et al. (2009). ‘‘Refugee Crisis in America: Iraqis and Their Resettlement Experience.’’ Washington, DC: Georgetown Law Human Rights Institute. Available at 

www.law.georgetown.edu/news/.../RefugeeCrisisinAmerical000.pdf. 8The interviews and field visits that contribute to this study were conducted over the course 

of several years—from 2008 to present—and may have been used in other documents generated 

by the author. 9See appendix II. Official letter from Office of the Mayor, city of Fort Wayne, IN. 

The United States is opening its gates to refugees and 

simply forgetting about them after they have arrived. In 

the process, the United States is in danger of failing to 

meet its legal obligations to extend protection to the most 

vulnerable refugees, promote their long-term self-sufficiency, and support their integration. . . . 

Employment services, provided by [voluntary agencies] 

and State agencies, are seriously underfunded and unable 

to adequately help Iraqi refugees in their job search. Lack 

of transportation remains a significant barrier to securing 

and maintaining employment. English as a Second Language (ESL) classes, generally inadequate in both quality 

and duration, fail to help Iraqis build marketable language 

skills. In addition, the opportunity to pursue education and 

recertification programs, prerequisites for many jobs, is either unavailable or eclipsed by more immediate needs. 

Given these barriers, it is not surprising that the vast majority of Iraqi refugees interviewed were unemployed despite expressing a strong desire to work.7

Field research undertaken for this study in the cities of Fort 

Wayne, Indiana, and Clarkston, Georgia, made similar findings.8

The challenges confronting the U.S. refugee assistance program, 

much like those confronting our nation’s immigration policies in 

general, are significant and systemic. Strong leadership by the administration and Congress will be needed to offer a clear and practical way forward. 

Case Study: Fort Wayne, IN 

After nearly two decades of welcoming and resettling refugees 

from disparate regions of the world the city of Fort Wayne, with 

a population of roughly 300,000, determined that it had reached a 

breaking point. City officials and community stakeholders felt they 

were sustaining a broken system on limited community resources 

and a wealth of goodwill. The city in November 2008 officially requested a resettlement moratorium from the State Family Social 

Services Administration.9 The city has accepted thousands of refugees throughout the years, starting with persons from South East 

Asia in 1975, but complained that the confluence of a tough economic climate and inadequate federal resources caused the latest 

influx of refugees to become unbearable. 

The State of Indiana responded by stopping new arrivals to the 

city, except in the case of family reunification. But the problems 

caused by the existing refugee population and the post-arrival relocation of refugees, known as secondary migration, remain a concern. The city has appealed to Federal authorities for assistance, 

so far to little avail. A once-welcoming environment has become 

what some persons interviewed called a ‘‘potentially explosive situation.’’ They cite recent examples in the local press of confrontaVerDate Nov 24 2008 08:37 Jul 22, 2010 Jkt 000000 PO 00000 Frm 00013 Fmt 6633 Sfmt 6633 S:\HEARING FILES\LEGISLATIVE REPORTS\57483.TXT MIKEB
8 

10See appendix III and IV. Kevin Leininger. ‘‘ ‘No Burmese’ Sign Draws Ire: Despite Business 

Owners Apology, City’s Civil Rights Watchdog Is Investigating.’’ News-Sentinel, 10 March 2010. 

Available at http://www.news-sentinel.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20100310/NEWS/3100340. 

Devon Haynie. ‘‘Burmese Demand Action on Prejudice: See Official Indifference to Sign at Laundry.’’ Journal Gazette, 15 March 2010. Available at http://www.journalgazette.net/article/ 

20100315/LOCAL/303159989. 

tions between American citizens and refugees. The most recent 

incident allegedly involved Burmese refugees publicly relieving 

themselves and/or spitting betel nut juice in a local laundromat 

store, which resulted in an employee of this business placing a sign 

on the door stating ‘‘For sanitary reasons, there are no Burmese 

people allowed.’’ 10

The historical flows of refugee resettlements in Fort Wayne are 

estimated by local officials to originally have been between 100 and 

200 each year. This was considered manageable, even if 

underresourced, by most within the community. Fred Gilbert, a 

community advocate for refugees, noted that most citizens were oblivious to the refugee population and were unaware that the resettlement program existed. However, decisions made at the Federal 

level to admit a higher number of Burmese refugees to the United 

States, many of whom had languished in refugee camps for nearly 

a decade or more, resulted in a dramatic and unexpected increase 

in refugees arriving in Fort Wayne in 2007. 

According to elected officials and community leaders, the city received roughly 700 Burmese refugees in 2007 and 800 in 2008 

without any notice of their impending arrival. Moreover, numerous 

city officials interviewed for this study said they had never been 

asked by resettlement agencies or by PRM whether the city could 

handle the newcomers. 

Coinciding with this increase in refugees was the global economic 

recession and decrease in demand for low-skilled labor throughout 

the region. For example, Elkhart, IN, visited by President Obama 

in February 2009 to underscore the Nation’s depressed job markets, is roughly a 1.5 hour drive from Fort Wayne. It had an unemployment rate in March 2010 of 15.2 percent, compared to Ft. 

Wayne’s 11.1 percent. 

While the pace of resettlement dropped due to restrictions limiting new placements to family reunification, Fort Wayne has 

emerged as a ‘‘community of choice’’ for many Burmese resettled 

elsewhere around the country. Although no official system for 

tracking so-called secondary migration currently exists, city leaders 

estimate that Burmese have arrived at a rate of two secondary migrants for each refugee directly resettled in the city. The resources 

required to assist this flow of secondary migrants are not being directed to Fort Wayne because ORR and PRM have not established 

a mechanism for tracking such migration patterns. The significant 

strain accompanying secondary migrants was identified by each 

interviewee as Fort-Wayne’s most pressing refugee-related challenge. 

The concern surrounding secondary migration is warranted because some refugee populations have proven to pose special resettlement challenges. Many of the more than 6,000 Burmese refugees 

in Fort Wayne are illiterate in their native language, have few 

marketable skills, and are accustomed to government dependence 

after being confined to refugee camps for a decade or more. The deVerDate Nov 24 2008 08:37 Jul 22, 2010 Jkt 000000 PO 00000 Frm 00014 Fmt 6633 Sfmt 6633 S:\HEARING FILES\LEGISLATIVE REPORTS\57483.TXT MIKEB
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11The five schools are Southwick Elementary School, Meadow Brooke Elementary School, Village Elementary School, Prince Chapman Middle School, and Paul Harding High School. 12The two schools are South Side High School and North Side High School. 13The World Health Organization notes that 5–10 percent of people in general who are infected with TB become sick or infectious. Available at http://who.int/mediacentre/factsheets/ 

fs104/en/index.html. 14 Id.

mand that they become conversant, employed, and self-sufficient 

within PRM’s 90-day time limit was deemed ‘‘cruel and unethical’’ 

by Dr. Jeanne Zehr, assistant superintendent of East Allen Community Schools. 

Dr. Zehr noted that the five schools in her system with the highest population of refugee youth are considered to have the lowest 

academic performance rates according to Indiana accountability 

standards.11 She argued that many refugee youth should not be expected to compete with their American peers when they have 

‘‘never even seen a toilet or flushed a toilet because they were born 

in those camps.’’ An American parent at one of the failing elementary schools, Dr. Zehr said, tried to lead an effort to have other 

parents withdraw their American students because she felt that 

the refugee youth were detrimental to her child’s educational experience. The parents’ appeal did not gain traction, but this type of 

response appears symptomatic of a general frustration. 

The superintendent of Fort Wayne Community Schools, Dr. 

Wendy Robinson, acknowledged that two schools in her system 

with large refugee populations face imminent risk of being taken 

over by State authorities because of chronic underperformance.12

Dr. Robinson stated, ‘‘We are robbing Peter to pay Paul. . . . The 

one-size-fits-all approach is just not working.’’ The reality on the 

ground is that money is regularly diverted from other programs to 

address the special needs of refugee youth because ‘‘they’re our 

kids once they are here,’’ she said. 

In FY 2009, East Allen Community Schools received $21,000 and 

$15,000 went to Fort Wayne Community Schools as part of a larger 

$150,000 School Impact grant awarded to Indiana by ORR, but 

such a small grant is considered to be insufficient. Dr. Robinson 

contended, ‘‘I need nurses, translators, psychologists. I visited one 

of my schools on the first day of the year and not one of the [refugee] students or parents spoke English. $15,000 is just a drop in 

the bucket.’’ 

Emphasis was placed on the need for additional staffing to address the unique backgrounds of refugee youth, such as nurses, because underresourcing could have consequences for the general student population. Deborah McMahan, Health Commissioner of Fort 

Wayne-Allen County Department of Health, confirmed that almost 

half of Burmese refugees screened have latent tuberculosis (TB). 

According to Dr. McMahan, there is a 10- to 15-percent lifetime 

risk of developing active TB within this group 13, a disease which 

is contagious, and one’s susceptibility to developing active TB is increased by malnutrition and a weak immune system—each being 

prevalent among refugees. On average, as noted by the World 

Health Organization, each person with active TB infects 10–15 people before antibiotics, and isolation procedures render them noncontagious.14 Dr. McMahan contended that if 50 percent of the 

roughly 800 refugees resettled in 2008 are assumed to have latent 

10 

15 Adess, S. et al. (2009). ‘‘Refugee Crisis in America: Iraqis and Their Resettlement Experience.’’ Washington, DC: Georgetown Law Human Rights Institute. Available at 

www.law.georgetown.edu/news/.../RefugeeCrisisinAmerical000.pdf. 

TB, the city could have as many as 100 to 200 new cases of active 

TB within the Burmese population alone. In the absence of effective monitoring and treatment, this could present a significant 

threat to public health. 

Nancy Chamberlin, Deputy Chief of police in Fort Wayne, expressed concern for the safety of her officers who face the risk of 

exposure to TB when responding to situations within the Burmese 

community. She also referenced alarming incidents regarding elevated rates of violence and exploitation faced by women and children—citing a recent case in which a 50-year-old Burmese man 

was found offering the sexual services of a 14-year-old female relative. Generally, she noted that many refugees are distrustful of officers due to previous experiences of persecution in their countries 

of origin and do not understand basic laws or social norms. 

Dr. McMahan also noted that prearrival health screenings no 

longer included HIV/AIDS testing, which she identified as very concerning given the elevated rates of infection sometimes found in 

refugee camps. Prior knowledge of HIV status, she explained, allows for better planning for the complicated care that refugees with 

such conditions require. Increasingly, the costs of these tests are 

being dropped on the laps of local and state governments. 

She further noted that PRM provides no prearrival population 

assessments or indicators to aid her in identifying the needs of the 

refugee groups the city resettles. The discovery of elevated occurrences of hepatitis B among the Burmese population, for example, 

was cited as a condition she simply ‘‘stumbled’’ upon. The expensive treatment associated with this life-long condition presents another significant cost the local community will be forced to bear. 

Totally neglected, she continued, is funding to combat substance 

abuse, depression, and post-traumatic stress disorder as well as 

chronic health conditions like obesity, malnutrition, and hypertension—all of which disproportionately plague this population. 

The issue of inadequate funding for mental health treatment was 

underscored in the study by the Georgetown Law Human Rights 

Institute: 

[I]n many cases, refugees’ health needs remain untreated, compromising their ability to lead healthy, functional lives. In San Diego, for example, refugees with lingering mental health problems can wait 2 months before 

seeing a doctor. Similarly, torture treatment centers in the 

8 States with the highest number of Iraqi refugee arrivals 

are experiencing waitlists for services. Other areas where 

Iraqi refugees are expected to resettle in greater numbers, 

such as Idaho, Tennessee, and upstate New York, do not 

have any dedicated torture treatment centers and will 

therefore require additional funding for training and capacity-building.15

The complex nature of assistance required by some refugees, in 

States across the country, is seriously overstretched or not in place 

at all. 

11 

16 See appendix V. Warren St. John. ‘‘Refugees Find Hostility and Hope on Soccer Field.’’ New 

York Times 21 Jan. 2007. Available at http://www.nytimes.com/2007/01/21/us/ 

21fugees.html?ex=1327035600&en=a213425fdcd1892f&ei=5088&partner=rssnyt&emc=rss. 17 17 See Appendix VI. Legislation introduced in the Georgia General Assembly as House Bill 

1002 by Representative Karla Drenner, April 2003. Available at http://www.legis.state.ga.us/ 

legis/2003l04/versions/hb1002lLCl28l1311lal2.htm. 

Case Study: Clarkston, GA 

A page one New York Times article published in January 2007 

by Warren St. John, which thrust the challenges confronting 

Clarkston, GA, into the foreground of national discussion, helped 

bring attention to the burdens many other cities across the United 

States are also attempting to address.16 The article described deeply concerning stories of prejudice, police brutality, and a small community of roughly 7,000 that was shattered under the pressure of 

a broken refugee resettlement system. 

However, the tensions highlighted in the article between the refugee population and most long-time residents, according to the 

Clarkston’s former mayor, were not inflamed by deep-seeded prejudice, but were rooted in the fact that resettlement agencies completely failed to warn the city that refugees would be placed in 

their community. When asked if city officials were consulted, 

Mayor Lee Swaney stated, ‘‘We were not part of the process of 

bringing them here. We were told after the fact that they were 

coming.’’ He argued that settling refugees in Clarkston, without coordinating with the city, left him with the lion’s share of responsibility but no voice. In addition, refugees placed excessive burdens 

on already scarce resources because he claimed the city did not receive extra money to address the special needs of this population. 

In April 2003, Georgia Representative Karla Drenner, whose district includes Clarkston, in response to concerns articulated by constituents like Mayor Swaney, introduced legislation that would 

have compelled voluntary agencies working in the State to report 

to government authorities whenever 10 or more refugees were resettled in a municipality.17 This past year, she also convened a 

townhall meeting where she publicly encouraged the voluntary 

agencies located within the city to improve communication with 

elected officials and to provide more warning regarding when refugees were due to arrive. The current mayor of Clarkston, Howard 

Tygrett, reported that all of the resettlement agencies subsequently 

relocated outside of the city limits in order to circumvent this appeal and that communication has not improved since he assumed 

office roughly one year ago. 

From the perspective of the resettlement agencies, Clarkston offered refugees the basic services needed to gather their bearings 

and get on their feet, which was their primary concern. The convenient access to the metro-Atlanta job market, nearby highway 

system, and affordable housing that made the city ideal for longtime residents were the factors that caused Clarkston to be selected as the primary resettlement city for all of Georgia. 

Since the most immediate challenge faced by refugees after arriving was finding employment as a means to reach self-sufficiency, 

living in Clarkston made sense. Although Clarkston’s business sector, comprised largely of small businesses, could not provide 

enough jobs, refugees had access to the city of Atlanta. ResettleVerDate Nov 24 2008 08:37 Jul 22, 2010 Jkt 000000 PO 00000 Frm 00017 Fmt 6633 Sfmt 6633 S:\HEARING FILES\LEGISLATIVE REPORTS\57483.TXT MIKEB
12 

18 Id. 

ment agencies thought that the low-skill jobs most refugee adults 

qualified for, because of their limited English and educational backgrounds, would be available in Atlanta. 

After finding work, however, figuring out how to get there every 

day became the next problem. As the former mayor noted: 

Transportation was a big issue and I can understand 

why. If you get a job, but can’t get there you are no better 

off. So transportation was a big issue. Catching MARTA, 

it played a big role because it was convenient. 

MARTA, the public transportation system connecting Clarkston to 

the larger Atlanta area, made travel to work possible for struggling 

refugees unable to afford private vehicles. 

The abundance of affordable housing in Clarkston was identified 

by the resettlement agencies as the best option for refugees who 

needed the jobs available in Atlanta but could not afford its more 

expensive rent. Overbuilding during the 1980s created a situation 

in which the housing ratio was 80 percent multidwelling and 20 

percent single-dwelling. Thus, Clarkston’s apartments became 

home to refugees who for too long lived in the squalor of refugee 

camps. 

Each of these factors were important for helping refugees get on 

their feet, but the citizens of Clarkston were often left to deal with 

the problems that emerged long after the resettlement agencies 

were gone. To illustrate this point, the former mayor discussed the 

living conditions of some refugee families he observed who were unaccustomed to living in the apartments they were placed in. Mayor 

Swaney stated: 

I know that when the health department and I went into 

some of these apartments you would not believe what we 

saw. They had no idea how to live in one of these places 

and I fault the agencies that brought them here. If they 

come and they know what a toilet is for and they know 

what a faucet and gas stove is then they fit in to how we 

live here. 

Further, when accidental fires were caused by inappropriate handling of household appliances, the burden fell on Clarkston’s police 

department to deal with the emotional and structural damage. The 

deaths of four refugee youth, who were killed during a tragic apartment fire in 2008, underscored this point. 

The former mayor contended that the collective burden of these 

issues caused resentment among some long-time residents. He 

cited many meetings he attended to discuss his grievances and to 

petition for these problems to be addressed by the resettlement 

agencies, but no action was taken because the agencies claimed to 

be financially constrained themselves. 

Between 1996 and 2001, nearly 20,000 refugees were sent to 

Georgia, and with most resettling in Clarkston or the surrounding 

areas, nearly half of the city’s population were foreign-born or refugee at any given time.18 The current vice mayor, Emanuel Ransom, offered an anecdotal example in stating, ‘‘I am there most 

13 

days court is held and 90 percent of the local people in the court 

cannot speak English.’’ 

The larger ramifications of the strain associated with the resettlement process are best illustrated by focusing on the public school 

system in Clarkston. Teachers and administrators are said to be 

failing to address the special needs of the refugee youth, in addition to the needs of the general student population. Consequently, 

the deteriorating condition of overall instruction has fuelled significant shifts in the demographics of Clarkston’s population. 

The reaction of many long-time residents of Clarkston to the increasing pressures placed on the educational system was simply to 

relocate. Regarding the state of Clarkston’s schools, Luma Mufleh, 

a community advocate on behalf of refugees in Clarkston, remarked: 

I think it’s unfair for the government to put a ton of refugees in a city and not equip them with the resources to 

handle them. The schools are all failing. Every school in 

Clarkston is failing because schools are not equipped to 

handle this. A teacher cannot teach 10 kids at 10 different 

levels. So, I understand their frustration, but they need to 

come up with solutions. All the white people have left because no one wants their child to receive a bad education. 

I have lots of friends who would be interested in moving 

to Clarkston because of the diversity the city offers, but 

only if they are single. My married friends would not think 

of moving here because of the schools. They would not 

want to put their kids in Clarkston’s schools. So they have 

to start with the schools because that is the biggest issue. 

The resettlement process was contributing to divisions and resentment between refugee and nonrefugee populations in Clarkston. 

Further, because refugees lacked the means to move their families 

to cities with better schools, their children received what she believed to be second-rate educations and limited long-term options. 

While a local pastor noted that the flight of some long-time 

Clarkston residents was driven by a desire to avoid the diverse 

populations entering the city, he cited firsthand experience of how 

important a consideration quality schools were for families with 

children. Pastor Phil Kitchen of Clarkston International Bible 

Church decided to register his own children in a different school 

system because of the horror stories he heard about Clarkston 

upon accepting the pastorate of his church. As his family prepared 

to relocate, he recalled several of the selectors on the church’s 

search committee strongly advising him against considering 

Clarkston’s schools because of their deplorable condition. The pastor stated: 

I remember talking with them and they recommended 

that I keep my kids out of Clarkston’s schools. So my wife 

and I decided to live in the city a few miles away for the 

sake of our family. Every parent wants their child to receive the best education available and the simple fact is 

that the kids in Clarkston are at a disadvantage. 

14 

19D. Aileen Dodd and John Perry. ‘‘New Curriculum: Math Anxiety for Students and Teachers.’’ The Atlanta Journal-Constitution, 20 May 2010. Available at http://www.ajc.com/news/newcurriculum-math-anxiety-532073.html. 20 Kennedy, E. M. (1981). ‘‘Refugee Act of 1980.’’ International Migration Review, Vol. 15, No. 1⁄2 Refugees Today (Spring-Summer, 1981). 

According to recently released results from Georgia’s statewide 

standardized math exam for the 2009–10 academic year, Clarkston 

High School has the highest percentage of failing scores of all 

metro-Atlanta schools—with 47.8 percent of students reported as 

failing.19

CONCLUSION

The American people have generously welcomed far more refugees than all other countries and we are a richer society for having 

embraced such diverse cultures. While offering safe haven to persecuted populations throughout the world remains a humanitarian 

imperative, the administration should avoid biting off more than 

local communities are capable of chewing. Especially in a difficult 

economic climate, force-feeding refugees into a broken system is 

proving to be detrimental to the longer term interests of refugees 

and to the cities that receive them. 

The U.S. resettlement program should be perceived as a benefit 

to local communities, not a burden. To the extent that the resettlement cities included in this report are building intercultural 

bridges and making the system work, it often appears to occur in 

spite of government resources and not because of them. Best articulated by Senator Edward Kennedy in a 1981 report discussing the 

Refugee Act of 1980—legislation he authored—he argued that the 

administration and Congress should ensure local communities are 

not negatively impacted by ‘‘programs they did not initiate and for 

which they were not responsible.’’ 20 Immediate action is required 

to make this a reality today. 

15 

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

The following contributed in some way to the preparation of this 

report, or continue to assist the committee with this ongoing 

project. 

U.S. Government: 

• National Security Council 

• Department of Health and Human Services 

• Department of State 

Individuals: 

• Susan Boyle, Former State Refugee Coordinator, State of Indiana 

• Jay Branegan, Senate Foreign Relations Committee 

• Susan Brouillette, Senator Lugar’s Office, Indianapolis, Indiana 

• Nancy Chamberlin, Deputy Chief, Southeast Division, Fort 

Wayne Police Department 

• Meg Distler, St. Joseph Community Health Foundation, Fort 

Wayne, Indiana 

• Karla Drenner, Georgia House of Representatives, State of 

Georgia 

• Cathy Gallmeyer, Senator Lugar’s Office, Fort Wayne, Indiana 

• Palermo Galindo, Hispanic and Immigrant Liaison, Fort 

Wayne, Indiana 

• Mark GiaQuinta, President, Fort Wayne Community Schools 

• Fred Gilbert, Social Worker, Fort Wayne Indiana 

• David Gogol, Vice-Chair, B&D Consulting 

• Joe Johns, Director of Missional Living, Fellowship Missionary 

Church, Fort Wayne, Indiana 

• Emily Keirns Schwartz, Coordinator, English language Learners (ELL), Fort Wayne Community Schools 

• Phil Kitchin, Pastor, Clarkston International Bible Church 

• Desiree Koger-Gustafson, Staff Attorney, Neighborhood Christian Legal Clinic 

• Keith Luse, Senate Foreign Relations Committee 

• Dr. Deborah McMahan, Commissioner, Fort Wayne-Allen 

County Department of Health 

• Luma Mufleh, CEO and Coach, Fugees Family 

• Jim Murua, Assistant Chief Fire Marshal, City of Fort Wayne 

• Emanuel Ransom, Vice-Mayor, City of Clarkston 

• Wendy Robinson, Superintendent, Fort Wayne Community 

Schools 

• Debbie Schmidt, Executive Director, Catholic Charities 

• Tony Scipio, Chief of Police, City of Clarkston 

• Lee Swaney, Former Mayor, City of Clarkston 

• Minn Myint Nan Tin, Burmese Advocacy Center, Fort Wayne, 

Indiana 

• Helen Townsend, Refugee Health Coordinator, State of Indiana 

• Howard Tygrett, Mayor, City of Clarkston 

• Monica Vela, Refuge Support/ELL Liaison, Fort Wayne Community Schools 

16 

• Becky Weimerskirch, Executive Director, Community Transportation Network, Inc. • Bernard White L. III, Licensed Special Education Teacher, 

Paul Harding High School • Ocleva Williams, Neighborhood Action Center, Autumn Woods • Dr. Julie Zehr, Assistant Superintendent, East Allen County 

Schools 

(17) 

APPENDIX I 

SUMMARY OF REFUGEE ADMISSIONS AS OF 30 APRIL 2010 


refug1.eps
18 


refug2.eps
(19) 

APPENDIX II 

OFFICIAL LETTER FROM CITY OF FORT WAYNE, IN 


append1.eps
20 


append2.eps
(21) 

APPENDIX III 

REFUGEE ARTICLE IN THE NEWS-SENTINEL

‘‘NO BURMESE’’ SIGN DRAWS IRE DESPITE BUSINESS OWNER’S

APOLOGY, CITY’S CIVIL-RIGHTS WATCHDOG IS INVESTIGATING

(By Kevin Leininger) 

Some of their customers’ actions, management says, were ‘‘alarming.’’ 

But by targeting an entire ethnic group instead of the unacceptable behavior, an employee’s sign has forced the Anderson-based 

owner of a local business to apologize and drawn the attention of 

the city’s civil-rights watchdog. 

‘‘For sanitary reasons, there are no Burmese people allowed,’’ 

read the sign that was posted on the door of Ricker Oil Co.’s coinoperated laundry on South Calhoun Street near Rudisill Boulevard—until an irate passerby alerted the offices of the Burmese 

Advocacy Center, 2826 S. Calhoun St., and the Neighborhood 

Christian Legal Clinic, igniting a firestorm of protest in the media 

and on the Internet culminating in Tuesday’s apology from President Jay Ricker. 

‘‘Unfortunately, an employee responded to an alarming situation 

in an appropriate manner . . . the sign in question was removed, 

and we are exploring appropriate disciplinary action,’’ Ricker said 

in a statement. ‘‘It is the policy of Ricker’s to welcome all patrons 

to its facilities. We are committed to maintaining a positive relationship with all members of the communities we serve.’’ Ricker’s, 

founded in 1979, has more than 700 employees and operates 49 

convenience stores and two laundries. 

Desiree Koger-Gustafson, attorney for the legal clinic that serves 

mostly low-income and immigrant clients, said she was going to 

protest the sign, but its removal and the apology were sufficient for 

her to drop the matter. 

‘‘Someone should inform (whoever wrote the sign) of the last few 

decades of civil-rights laws. Some people still think you can do this 

kind of thing,’’ she said. 

Gerald Foday isn’t one of those people, however. The director of 

Fort Wayne’s Metropolitan Human Relations Commission said his 

agency may file a complaint, and could pursue civil-rights charges 

against Ricker’s if an investigation warrants it. Sanctions could include fines, mandatory employee training and other remedies, he 

said. 

‘‘You can sanction behavior based on health,’’ he said—but you 

can’t banish an entire group based on the actions of certain individuals. 

22 

Ricker’s spokesman Jonathan Bausman did not want to elaborate 

on the behaviors resulting in the sign. ‘‘We don’t want it to seem 

like we’re trying to justify it,’’ he said. 

But signs still posted at the laundry in English and Burmese 

offer a clue: ‘‘No spitting! No betel nut!’’ they read. 

According to Koger-Gustafson, many Burmese chew betel nut, 

which is common in their country of Burma, or Myanmar as it’s 

called by the ruling junta, and spit the residue, which can result 

in red stains. Bausman said Ricker’s has discussed its concerns 

about certain behaviors with Burmese advocates and the Fort 

Wayne-Allen County Department of Health, and said other companies have expressed similar concerns. 

Health department spokesman John Silcox said there are ‘‘ongoing issues about what can and can’t be tolerated’’ with newly arriving immigrant and refugee groups, especially in the area of hygiene. Fort Wayne is home to about 5,000 Burmese—the largest 

concentration in the United States. 

The sign’s removal and Ricker’s apology don’t satisfy all Burmese. 

Kyaw Soe, who came to Fort Wayne from Burma in 1993 and is 

director of IPFW’s New Immigrant Literacy Program, visited the 

laundry Tuesday and said he still considers it an unfriendly place 

for Burmese. 

‘‘There were signs (in Burmese prohibiting certain actions) in 

every room. There were 22 in Burmese to only one in Spanish. It’s 

nonverbal behavior that is non-welcoming. We need more education, more cultural sensitivity.’’ 

Those signs about not using betel nut apparently didn’t originate 

with Ricker’s, however. Koger-Gustafson said they were provided 

by the Burmese Advocacy Center. 

In fact, one was posted Tuesday atop the counter at the group’s 

office. 

(23) 

APPENDIX IV 

REFUGEE ARTICLE IN THE JOURNAL GAZETTE

BURMESE DEMAND ACTION ON PREJUDICE SEE OFFICIAL

INDIFFERENCE TO SIGN AT LAUNDRY

(By Devon Haynie) 

Dozens of shivering Burmese gathered in front of the Courthouse 

on Sunday to urge government officials to publicly denounce discrimination against their community. 

Organizers said the rally was a response to the government’s 

lack of reaction to a controversial sign posted at Ricker’s City 

Laundry on South Calhoun Street several weeks ago. The sign, 

which has since been removed, read, ‘‘For Sanitary Purposes, There 

Are No Burmese People Allowed.’’ Jay Ricker, head of the company, 

has since apologized for the sign, but Burmese at the rally said it 

was not enough to ease their fears of continued discrimination. 

‘‘The government has been silent,’’ said Maung Maung Soe, one 

of the event’s organizers. ‘‘If the government does not take action, 

we will take legal action.’’ 

Details surrounding the sign remain unclear. But by all accounts, 

it seems that a lone employee posted it, perhaps in response to the 

Burmese tradition of chewing betel nuts and spitting out the juice. 

Ricker posted an apology on Facebook and read an apology in a 

video posted on YouTube. 

At the rally, members of the Burmese community held signs 

reading ‘‘We Want Equal Rights’’ and ‘‘We Are Burmese Americans.’’ Organizers said they planned to stage a larger rally in a few 

days, but had to keep the gathering small because they hadn’t received a permit. 

Fort Wayne is home to about 5,500 people from Myanmar, formerly known as Burma. Many are legal refugees who fled the country to escape the country’s 60-year civil war. 

‘‘We aren’t foreigners coming to visit; we are citizens,’’ said Nyan 

Aung, an event organizer who has lived in the United States since 

1993. ‘‘We need to be treated more like other people. (People) need 

to respect our human rights.’’ 

Thandar Thet, a 15-year-old sophomore at North Side High 

School, came to the rally with her father and 5-year-old brother. 

She said the sign posting made her feel uneasy about her future 

in Fort Wayne. 

‘‘I’ve never been discriminated against, but I don’t believe this is 

right,’’ Thet said. ‘‘My parents came to America for freedom. They 

talked about discrimination in Burma, but that is what we came 

here to escape.’’ 

(24) 

APPENDIX V 

REFUGEE ARTICLE IN THE NEW YORK TIMES

[From the New York Times, Jan. 21, 2007] 

REFUGEES FIND HOSTILITY AND HOPE ON SOCCER FIELD

(By Warren St. John) 

Editors’ Note Appended 

Correction Appended 

CLARKSTON, GA., Jan. 20.—Early last summer the mayor of this 

small town east of Atlanta issued a decree: no more soccer in the 

town park. 

‘‘There will be nothing but baseball down there as long as I am 

mayor,’’ Lee Swaney, a retired owner of a heating and air-conditioning business, told the local paper. ‘‘Those fields weren’t made 

for soccer.’’ 

In Clarkston, soccer means something different than in most 

places. As many as half the residents are refugees from war-torn 

countries around the world. Placed by resettlement agencies in a 

once mostly white town, they receive 90 days of assistance from the 

government and then are left to fend for themselves. Soccer is their 

game. 

But to many longtime residents, soccer is a sign of unwanted 

change, as unfamiliar and threatening as the hijabs worn by the 

Muslim women in town. It’s not football. It’s not baseball. The 

fields weren’t made for it. Mayor Swaney even has a name for the 

sort of folks who play the game: the soccer people. 

Caught in the middle is a boys soccer program called the 

Fugees—short for refugees, though most opponents guess the name 

refers to the hip-hop band. 

The Fugees are indeed all refugees, from the most troubled corners—Afghanistan, Bosnia, Burundi, Congo, Gambia, Iraq, Kosovo, 

Liberia, Somalia and Sudan. Some have endured unimaginable 

hardship to get here: squalor in refugee camps, separation from 

siblings and parents. One saw his father killed in their home. 

The Fugees, 9 to 17 years old, play on three teams divided by 

age. Their story is about children with miserable pasts trying to 

make good with strangers in a very different and sometimes hostile 

place. But as a season with the youngest of the three teams revealed, it is also a story about the challenges facing resettled refugees in this country. More than 900,000 have been admitted to the 

United States since 1993, and their presence seems to bring out the 

best in some people and the worst in others. 

The Fugees’ coach exemplifies the best. A woman volunteering in 

a league where all the other coaches are men, some of them paid 

25 

former professionals from Europe, she spends as much time helping 

her players’ families make new lives here as coaching soccer. 

At the other extreme are some town residents, opposing players 

and even the parents of those players, at their worst hurling racial 

epithets and making it clear they resent the mostly African team. 

In a region where passions run high on the subject of illegal immigration, many are unaware or unconcerned that, as refugees, the 

Fugees are here legally. 

‘‘There are no gray areas with the Fugees,’’ said the coach, Luma 

Mufleh. ‘‘They trigger people’s reactions on class, on race. They 

speak with accents and don’t seem American. A lot of people get 

shaken up by that.’’ 

LOTS OF RUNNING, MANY RULES

The mayor’s soccer ban has everything to do with why, on a 

scorching August afternoon, Ms. Mufleh—or Coach Luma, as she is 

known in the refugee community—is holding tryouts for her under13 team on a rutted, sand-scarred field behind an elementary 

school. 

The boys at the tryouts wear none of the shiny apparel or expensive cleats common in American youth soccer. One plays in anklehigh hiking boots, some in baggy jeans, another in his socks. On 

the barren lot, every footfall and pivot produces a puff of chalky 

dust that hangs in the air like fog. 

Across town, the lush field in Milam Park sits empty. 

Ms. Mufleh blows her whistle. 

‘‘Listen up,’’ she tells the panting and dusty boys. ‘‘I don’t care 

how well you play. I care how hard you work. Every Monday and 

Wednesday, I’m going to have you from 5 to 8.’’ The first half will 

be for homework and tutoring. Ms. Mufleh has arranged volunteers 

for that. The second half will be for soccer, and for running. Lots 

of running. 

‘‘If you miss a practice, you miss the next game,’’ she tells the 

boys. ‘‘If you miss two games, you’re off the team.’’ 

The final roster will be posted on the bulletin board at the public 

library by 10 Friday morning, she says. Don’t bother to call. 

And one more thing. She holds up a stack of paper, contracts she 

expects her players to sign. ‘‘If you can’t live with this,’’ she says, 

‘‘I don’t want you on this team.’’ 

Hands—black, brown, white—reach for the paper. As the boys 

read, eyes widen: 

I will have good behavior on and off the field. 

I will not smoke. 

I will not do drugs. 

I will not drink alcohol. 

I will not get anyone pregnant. 

I will not use bad language. 

My hair will be shorter than Coach’s. 

I will be on time. 

I will listen to Coach. 

I will try hard. 

I will ask for help. 

I want to be part of the Fugees! 

26 

A TOWN TRANSFORMED

Until the refugees began arriving, the mayor likes to say, 

Clarkston ‘‘was just a sleepy little town by the railroad tracks.’’ 

Since then, this town of 7,100 has become one of the most diverse 

communities in America. 

Clarkston High School now has students from more than 50 

countries. The local mosque draws more than 800 to Friday prayers. There is a Hindu temple, and there are congregations of Vietnamese, Sudanese and Liberian Christians. 

At the shopping center, American stores have been displaced by 

Vietnamese, Ethiopian and Eritrean restaurants and a halal butcher. The only hamburger joint in town, City Burger, is run by an 

Iraqi. 

The transformation began in the late 1980s, when resettlement 

agencies, private groups that contract with the federal government, 

decided Clarkston was perfect for refugees to begin new lives. The 

town had an abundance of inexpensive apartments, vacated by 

middle-class whites who left for more affluent suburbs. It had public transportation; the town was the easternmost stop on the Atlanta rail system. And it was within commuting distance of downtown Atlanta’s booming economy, offering new arrivals at least the 

prospect of employment. 

At first the refugees—most from Southeast Asia—arrived so 

slowly that residents barely noticed. But as word got out about 

Clarkston’s suitability, more agencies began placing refugees here. 

From 1996 to 2001, more than 19,000 refugees from around the 

world resettled in Georgia, many in Clarkston and surrounding 

DeKalb County, to the dismay of many longtime residents. 

Many of those residents simply left. Others stayed but remained 

resentful, keeping score of the ways they thought the refugees were 

altering their lives. There were events that reinforced fears that 

Clarkston was becoming unsafe: a mentally ill Sudanese boy beheaded his 5-year-old cousin in their Clarkston apartment; a fire 

in a crowded apartment in town claimed the lives of four Liberian 

refugee children. 

At a town meeting in 2003 meant to foster understanding between the refugees and residents, the first question, submitted on 

an index card, was, ‘‘What can we do to keep the refugees from 

coming to Clarkston?’’ 

A COACH WITH A PASSION

Luma Mufleh, 31, says she was born to coach. She grew up in 

Amman, Jordan, in a Westernized family, and attended the American Community School, for American and European expatriates 

and a few well-to-do Jordanians. There, Muslim girls were free to 

play sports as boys did, and women were permitted to coach. 

Her mentor was an American volleyball coach who demanded extreme loyalty and commitment. Ms. Mufleh picked up on a paradox. Though she claimed to dislike her coach, she wanted to play 

well for her. 

‘‘For the majority of the time she coached me, I hated her,’’ Ms. 

Mufleh said. ‘‘But she had our respect. Until then, I’d always 

played for me. I’d never played for a coach.’’ 

27 

Ms. Mufleh attended college in the United States, in part because she felt women here had more opportunities. She went to 

Smith College, and after graduation moved to Atlanta. She soon 

found her first coaching job, as head of a 12-and-under girls soccer 

team through the local Y.M.C.A. 

On the field, Ms. Mufleh emulated her volleyball coach, an approach that did not always sit well with American parents. When 

she ordered her players to practice barefoot, to get a better feel for 

the soccer ball, a player’s mother objected on the grounds that her 

daughter could injure her toes. 

‘‘This is how I run my practice,’’ Ms. Mufleh told her. ‘‘If she’s 

not going to do it, she’s not going to play.’’ 

Ms. Mufleh’s first team lost every game. But over time her methods paid off. Her players returned. They got better. In her third 

season, her team was undefeated. 

When Ms. Mufleh learned about the growing refugee community 

in Clarkston, she floated the idea of starting a soccer program. The 

Y.M.C.A. offered to back her with uniforms and equipment. So in 

the summer of 2004, Ms. Mufleh made fliers announcing tryouts in 

Arabic, English, French and Vietnamese and distributed them 

around apartment complexes where the refugees lived. 

For a coach hoping to build a soccer program in Clarkston, the 

biggest challenge was not finding talented players. There were 

plenty of those, boys who had learned the game in refugee camps 

in Africa and in parking lots around town. The difficulty was finding players who would show up. 

Many of the players come from single-parent families, with mothers or fathers who work hours that do not sync with sports schedules. Few refugee families own cars. Players would have to be selfsufficient. 

On a June afternoon, 23 boys showed up for the tryouts. 

From the beginning, the players were wary. A local church offered a free basketball program for refugee children largely as a 

cover for missionary work. 

Others simply doubted that a woman could coach soccer. 

‘‘She’s a girl—she doesn’t know what she’s talking about,’’ Ms. 

Mufleh overheard a Sudanese boy say at an early practice. 

She ordered him to stand in the goal. As the team watched, she 

blasted a shot directly at the boy, who dove out of the way. 

‘‘Anybody else?’’ she asked. 

IN BRUTAL PASTS, A BOND

Jeremiah Ziaty, one of those early players, is a typical member 

of the Fugees. 

In 1997, in the midst of Liberia’s 14 years of civil war, rebels led 

by Charles Taylor showed up one night at the Ziatys’ house in 

Monrovia. Jeremiah’s father was a low-level worker in a government payroll office. The rebels thought he had money. When they 

learned he did not, they killed him in the family’s living room. 

Beatrice Ziaty, Jeremiah’s mother, grabbed her sons and fled out 

the back door. The Ziatys trekked through the bush for a week 

until they reached a refugee camp in the Ivory Coast. There, they 

lived in a mud hut and scavenged for food. After five years in the 

28 

camp, Ms. Ziaty learned her family had been accepted for resettlement in Clarkston, a town she had never heard of. 

The United States Committee for Refugees and Immigrants in 

Washington estimates that there are now more than 12 million refugees worldwide and more than 20 million people displaced within 

their own nations’ borders. In 2005, only 80,800 were accepted by 

other nations for resettlement, according to the United Nations. 

The Ziatys’ resettlement followed a familiar script. The family 

was lent $3,016 for one-way airline tickets to the United States, 

which they repaid in three years. After a two-day journey from 

Abidjan, they were greeted in Atlanta by a case worker from the 

International Rescue Committee, a resettlement organization. She 

took them to an apartment in Clarkston where the cupboard had 

been stocked with canned goods. 

The case worker helped Ms. Ziaty find a job, as a maid at the 

Ritz-Carlton Hotel in the affluent Buckhead section of Atlanta, one 

that required an hour commute by bus. While walking home from 

the bus stop after her first day, Ms. Ziaty was mugged and her 

purse stolen. 

Terrified of her new surroundings, Ms. Ziaty told her son Jeremiah never to leave the house. Like any 8-year-old, Jeremiah bristled. He especially wanted to play soccer. Through friends in the 

neighborhood, he heard about tryouts for the Fugees. 

‘‘When he tell me, ‘Mom, I go play soccer,’ I tell him he’s too 

small, don’t go out of the house,’’ Ms. Ziaty recalled. ‘‘Then he 

would start crying.’’ 

Ms. Ziaty relaxed her rule when she met Ms. Mufleh, who promised to take care of her son. 

That was three years ago. At age 11, Jeremiah is a leader of the 

13-and-under Fugees, shifting among sweeper, center midfielder 

and center forward. 

Other members of the Fugees also have harrowing stories. 

Qendrim Bushi’s Muslim family fled Kosovo when Serbian soldiers 

torched his father’s grocery store and threatened to kill them. Eldin 

Subasic’s uncle was shot in Bosnia. And so on. 

The Fugees, Ms. Mufleh believed, shared something intense. 

They knew trauma. They knew the fear and loneliness of the newcomer. This was their bond. 

‘‘In order to get a group to work together, to be effective together, 

you have to find what is common,’’ she said. ‘‘The refugee experience is pretty powerful.’’ 

* * * * * * * 

Ms. Mufleh made a point never to ask her players about their 

pasts. On the soccer field, she felt, refugees should leave that behind. 

Occasionally, though, a boy would reveal a horrific memory. One 

reported that he had been a child soldier. When she expressed frustration that a Liberian player tuned out during practice, another 

Liberian told her she didn’t understand: the boy had been forced 

by soldiers to shoot his best friend. 

‘‘It was learning to not react,’’ Ms. Mufleh said. ‘‘I just wanted 

to listen. How do you respond when a kid says, ‘I saw my dad shot 

in front of me’? I didn’t know.’’ 

29 

As a Jordanian in the Deep South, Ms. Mufleh identified in some 

ways with the refugees. A legal resident awaiting a green card, she 

often felt an outsider herself, and knew what it was like to be far 

from home. 

She also found she was needed. Her fluent Arabic and conversational French came in handy for players’ mothers who needed to 

translate a never-ending flow of government paperwork. Teachers 

learned to call her when her players’ parents could not be located. 

Families began to invite her to dinner, platters of rice and bowls 

of leafy African stews. The Ziatys cut back on the peppers when 

Coach Luma came over; they learned she couldn’t handle them. 

Upon hearing of the low wages the refugee women were earning, 

Ms. Mufleh thought she could do better. She started a house and 

office cleaning company called Fresh Start, to employ refugee 

women. The starting salary is $10 an hour, nearly double the minimum wage and more than the women were earning as maids in 

downtown hotels. She guarantees a 50-cent raise every year, and 

now employs six refugee women. 

Ms. Mufleh said that when she started the soccer program, she 

was hopelessly naive about how it would change her life. 

‘‘I thought I would coach twice a week and on weekends—like 

coaching other kids,’’ she said. ‘‘It’s 40 or 60 hours a week—coaching, finding jobs, taking people to the hospital. You start off on 

your own, and you suddenly have a family of 120.’’ 

OFF TO A ROUGH START

On a Friday morning in August, the boys come one by one to look 

for their names on the roster at the public library. Many go away 

disappointed, but six do not. 

The new players are: 

Mohammed Mohammed, 12, a bright-eyed Iraqi Kurd whose family fled Saddam Hussein for Turkey five years ago and who speaks 

only a few words of English. 

Idwar and Robin Dikori, two rocket-fast Sudanese brothers, 12 

and 10, who lost their mother, sister and two younger brothers in 

a car crash after arriving in Clarkston. 

Shahir Anwar, 13, an Afghan whose parents fled the Taliban and 

whose father suffered a debilitating stroke soon after arriving in 

this country. 

Santino Jerke, a shy 11-year-old Sudanese who has just arrived 

after three years as a refugee in Cairo. 

Mafoday Jawneh, a heavyset boy of 12 whose family fell out of 

favor after a coup in Gambia, and who has a sensitive side; his 

older brother ribs him for tearing up during ‘‘The Oprah Winfrey 

Show.’’ 

Ms. Mufleh is uncertain of her team’s prospects. She will have 

to teach the new players the basics of organized soccer. There are 

no throw-ins or corner kicks in the street game they have been 

playing. 

In her occasional moments of self-doubt, Ms. Mufleh asks herself: 

Can I really get these boys to play together? Can I really get them 

to win? 

* * * * * * * 

30 

The Fugees’ first practice this season is on a sultry August afternoon, with thunderclouds looming in the distance. After 90 minutes 

of studying, the team runs for half an hour and groans through 

situps, push-ups and leg lifts. 

But the Fugees have no soccer goals. The Y.M.C.A., which sponsors the team, did not place the order, despite a $2,000 grant for 

the purpose. Ms. Mufleh quietly seethes that a team of wealthy 

children would probably not have to wait for soccer goals. She 

likens practice to ‘‘playing basketball without a hoop.’’ 

The team’s first games portend a long season. The Fugees tie 

their first game, 4–4. In their next game, they surrender a lead 

and lose, 3–1. The team isn’t passing well. Players aren’t holding 

their positions. 

On a sweltering afternoon in early September, the Fugees prepare to take the field against the Triumph, a team from nearby 

Tucker. Even before the game, there is a glaring difference between 

the Fugees and their competition. The Triumph have brought perhaps 40 parents, siblings and friends, who spread out with folding 

chairs and picnic blankets and are loaded down with enough energy bars and brightly colored sports drinks for an N.B.A. team. 

Though this is technically a home game, no one is on the Fugees’ 

side. During the course of the season, only one Fugees parent will 

make a game. 

The Fugees lead, 2–0, at halftime. In the second half, they put 

on a show: firing headers, bicycle kicks and a gorgeous arcing shot 

from 30 yards out. Even the parents of the Triumph gasp and clap 

in appreciation. At the final whistle, the Fugees have won, 5–1. 

‘‘Not bad,’’ Ms. Mufleh tells her team. ‘‘But next week will be a 

much better game, O.K.?’’ 

A CALL FOR CHANGE

Ms. Mufleh has a list of complaints about the Fugees’ practice 

field: little grass, no goals. Neighborhood children regularly wander 

through the scrimmages, disrupting play. 

But after a gang shooting in an apartment complex behind the 

field in late September, she concludes that the field is not safe. She 

cancels practice for two days. Fed up, she storms into Mayor 

Swaney’s office, demanding use of the empty field in Milam Park. 

When Lee Swaney first ran for City Council in Clarkston more 

than 15 years ago, he did so as an unabashed representative of 

‘‘Old Clarkston’’—Clarkston before the refugees. It was certainly 

the more politically viable stance. Because few of the refugees have 

been in the country long enough to become citizens and vote, political power resides with longtime residents. The 2005 election that 

gave Mr. Swaney a second four-year term as mayor of this town 

of 7,100 was determined by just 390 voters. 

As mayor, Mr. Swaney has frequently found himself caught between these voters and the thousands of newcomers. But he has 

also taken potentially unpopular steps on behalf of the refugees. In 

2006 he forced the resignation of the town’s longtime police chief, 

in part because of complaints from refugees that Clarkston police 

officers were harassing them. Mr. Swaney gave the new chief a 

mandate to purge the Police Department of rogue officers. 

31 

Within three months, the chief, a black man of Trinidadian descent named Tony J. Scipio, fired or accepted the resignations of 

one-third of the force. 

Soccer is another matter. Mr. Swaney does not relish his reputation as the mayor who banned soccer. But he must please constituents who complain that refugees are overrunning the town’s parks 

and community center—people like Emanuel Ransom, a black man 

who moved to Clarkston in the late 1960s. 

‘‘A lot of our Clarkston residents are being left out totally,’’ Mr. 

Ransom says. ‘‘Nobody wants to help,’’ he says of the refugees. ‘‘It’s 

just, ‘Give me, give me, give me.’ ’’ 

Mr. Swaney encourages Ms. Mufleh to make her case at the next 

City Council meeting. So in early October she addresses a packed 

room at City Hall, explaining the team’s origins and purpose and 

promising to pick up trash in the park after practice. 

Mr. Swaney takes the floor. He admits concerns about ‘‘grown 

soccer people’’ who might tear up the field. But these are kids, he 

says, and ‘‘kids are our future.’’ 

He announces his support of a six-month trial for the Fugees’ use 

of the field in Milam Park. 

The proposal passes unanimously. At least for six months, the 

Fugees can play on grass. 

GETTING BACK IN THE GAME

Early on the morning of Oct. 14, Jeremiah Ziaty is nowhere to 

be seen. The Fugees have a 9 a.m. game an hour from Clarkston, 

against the Bluesprings Liberty Fire, one of the top teams. Ms. 

Mufleh had told her players to meet at the library by 7. 

Ms. Mufleh usually leaves players behind if they aren’t on time. 

But she knows Jeremiah’s mother is now working nights at a packaging factory; she gets home at 3 a.m. and won’t be up to wake 

Jeremiah. So the coach orders the bus driver to the Ziatys’ apartment. Jeremiah is sound asleep. Awakened, he grabs his uniform 

and fumbles toward the bus. 

From the outset of the game, the Fugees, and especially Jeremiah, seem groggy. They fall behind, 1-0. But in the second half, 

they tie the score, fall behind, and tie it again, 2-2. Jeremiah is 

now playing fearsome defense. With minutes to go, the Fugees 

score. They win, 3-2. 

‘‘We played as a team,’’ says Qendrim Bushi, the boy from 

Kosovo. ‘‘We didn’t yell at each other. Last game, when they scored, 

all of us were yelling at each other. And Coach made us do a lot 

of stuff at practice. That’s why we win. Only because of Coach.’’ 

As the Fugees leave the field, a man on the Bluesprings sideline 

yells to them, ‘‘I’d have paid money to watch that game!’’ 

* * * * * * * 

The Fugees have a knack for inspiring such strong reactions, 

both positive and negative. After one game Ms. Mufleh thought for 

a moment she was being chased by a rival parent. 

‘‘We’ve heard about your team,’’ the man said when he caught up 

with her. ‘‘We want to know what we can do to help.’’ 

The rival team donated cleats, balls and jerseys. 

32 

Then there was the game in rural Clarkesville last season at 

which rival players and even some parents shouted a racial epithet 

at some of the African players on the Fugees. 

After being ejected from a game against the Fugees in November, 

a rival player made an obscene gesture to nearly every player on 

the Fugees before heading to his bench. And opponents sometimes 

mocked the Fugees when they spoke to each other in Swahili, or 

when Ms. Mufleh shouted instructions in Arabic. 

There were even incidents involving referees. Two linesmen were 

reprimanded by a head referee during a pregame lineup in October 

for snickering when the name Mohammed Mohammed was called. 

Ms. Mufleh tells her players to try their best to ignore these 

slights. When the other side loses its cool, she tells them, it is a 

sign of weakness. 

Ms. Mufleh is just as fatalistic about bad calls. In her entire 

coaching career, she tells her players, she has never seen a call reversed because of arguing. 

The Fugees are perhaps better equipped to accept this advice 

than most. Their lives, after all, have been defined by bad calls. On 

the field, they seem to have a higher threshold for anger than the 

American players, who often respond to borderline calls as if they 

are catastrophic injustices. Bad calls, Ms. Mufleh teaches her players, are part of the game. You have to accept them, and move on. 

On Oct. 21, Ms. Mufleh is forced to put this theory to the test. 

The Fugees are on their way to Athens, an hour’s drive, for their 

biggest game, against the undefeated United Gold Valiants. A win 

will put them in contention for the top spot in their division. Ms. 

Mufleh sets out in her yellow Volkswagen Beetle, the back seat 

crammed with balls and cleats. Her team follows in a white 

Y.M.C.A. bus. 

Just outside Monroe, Ms. Mufleh looks to her left and sees a 

Georgia State Patrol car parallel to her. She looks at her speedometer. She isn’t speeding. 

The brake light, she thinks. 

Ms. Mufleh noticed it early in the week, but between practices, 

work and evenings shuttling among her players’ apartments, she 

neglected to get it fixed. The trooper turns on his flashing lights. 

Ms. Mufleh eases to the side and looks at her watch. If this doesn’t 

take too long, the team will make the field in time to warm up. 

It isn’t so simple. Because of a clerical error, a ticket Ms. Mufleh 

paid a year before appears unpaid. Her license is suspended. The 

trooper orders her from her car. In full view of her team, he arrests 

her. 

In the bus, the Fugees become unglued. Santino Jerke, in the 

country only a few months, begins to weep, violating the unwritten 

team rule that Fugees don’t cry. Several of the Fugees have had 

family members snatched by uniformed men, just like this. They 

have been in the United States too little time to understand court 

dates or bail. 

Ms. Mufleh tells the team’s manager and bus driver, Tracy 

Ediger, to take the team to Athens. They know what to do. They 

can play without her. 

Coachless, though, the Fugees are lost. Athens scores within 

minutes. And scores again. And again. The final score is 5–0. 

33 

After the game, Ms. Ediger drives the team back to Monroe. She puts together the $800 bail for Ms. Mufleh and signs some papers. 

In a few moments, the coach appears. Later, Ms. Mufleh says she 

thought at that moment about all the times she had told the 

Fugees to shake off bad calls, to get back in the game, to take responsibility. She walks straight to the bus and her players. 

‘‘This was my fault, and I had no excuse for not being there,’’ she 

tells them. ‘‘I should have been there and I wasn’t, and the way 

it happened probably messed you guys up.’’ 

Ms. Mufleh asks about the score. 

‘‘It was a really hard team, Coach,’’ says Idwar Dikori, the Sudanese speedster. 

‘‘Were they better than you?’’ 

‘‘No!’’ the Fugees shout in unison. 

‘‘Come on, guys—were they?’’ 

‘‘No, Coach,’’ Robin Dikori says. ‘‘If you were there, we were 

going to beat them.’’ 

Back in Clarkston that night, Ms. Mufleh takes some sweet rolls 

to the family of Grace Balegamire, a Congolese player. Grace’s 9- 

year-old brother has heard about the arrest, but doesn’t believe it. 

‘‘If you were in jail,’’ the boy says, ‘‘you wouldn’t be here.’’ 

Ms. Mufleh explains that she gave the people at the jail some 

money and promised to come back later, so they let her out. 

‘‘How much money?’’ he asks. 

‘‘Enough for 500 ice creams.’’ 

‘‘If you pay 500 ice creams you can come out of jail?’’ he asks. 

Ms. Mufleh grasps the boy’s confusion. The boys’ father is a political prisoner, in jail in Kinshasa, under circumstances that have 

drawn condemnation from Amnesty International and the Red 

Cross. The government there has issued no word on when, or if, he 

will be released. 

At the Ziatys’ home, the arrest has a similarly jarring effect. 

Jeremiah locks himself in his room and cries himself to sleep. 

BATTLING TO THE END

It’s late October, and with just two weeks left in the season, a 

minor miracle occurs in the arrival of two 10-foot-long cardboard 

boxes: portable soccer goals for the Fugees. The administrator at 

the Y.M.C.A. finally put in the order. Ms. Mufleh and Ms. Ediger 

assemble the goals in Milam Park. 

The goals and the new field offer Ms. Mufleh new opportunities 

to coach. On grass, players can slide-tackle during scrimmages, a 

danger on the old, gravelly field. A lined field makes it easier to 

practice throw-ins and corner kicks. And goals: well, they provide 

a chance for the Fugees to practice shooting. 

A disturbing trend has emerged in recent games. The Fugees 

move the ball down the field at will, but their shots are wild. They 

tie two games despite dominating play. 

Perhaps the Fugees are missing shots for the reason other teams 

miss shots: because scoring in soccer, under the best conditions, is 

deceptively difficult. But Ms. Mufleh also wonders if the absence of 

goals for most of a season doesn’t have something to do with it. 

Even so, the Fugees end the regular season on a misty Saturday 

with a 2–1 victory, to finish third in their division with a record 

34 

of 5–2–3, behind undefeated Athens and the Dacula Danger, a 

team the Fugees tied. The season finale will be a tournament 

called the Tornado Cup. To a player, the Fugees think they can 

win. 

‘‘What makes us work as a team is we all want to win bad—we 

want to be the best team around,’’ Qendrim says. ‘‘It’s like they’re 

all from my own country,’’ he adds of his teammates. ‘‘They’re my 

brothers.’’ 

* * * * * * * 

The Tornado Cup comes down to a game between the Fugees and 

the Concorde Fire, perhaps Atlanta’s most elite—and expensive— 

soccer academy. The Fugees need to win to advance to the finals. 

Standing on the sideline in a sweatshirt with ‘‘Soccer Mom’’ on 

the back, Nancy Daffner, team mother for the Fire, describes her 

son’s teammates as ‘‘overachievers.’’ One is a cellist who has played 

with the Atlanta Symphony. Her son wakes up an hour early every 

day to do a morning radio broadcast at his school. 

The Fire are mostly from the well-to-do Atlanta suburb of 

Alpharetta. They have played together under the same coach for 

five years. They practice twice a week under lights, and have sessions for speed and agility training. 

Over the years, the parents have grown close. During practice, 

Ms. Daffner says, she and the other mothers often meet for 

margaritas while the fathers watch their sons play. The team has 

pool parties and players spend weekends at one another’s lake 

houses. In the summer, most of the players attend soccer camp at 

Clemson University. Ms. Daffner estimates that the cost of playing 

for the Fire exceeds $5,000 a year per player, which includes fees, 

travel to tournaments and, of course, gear. Each player has an 

Adidas soccer bag embroidered with his jersey number. 

There is one other expenditure. The parents of the Fire collectively finance the play of Jorge Pinzon, a Colombian immigrant and 

the son of a single working mother. He isn’t from Alpharetta, but 

from East Gwinnett County, a largely Latino area outside Atlanta. 

Fire parents go to great lengths to get Jorge to games, arranging 

to meet him at gas stations around his home, landmarks they can 

find in his out-of-the-way neighborhood. Jorge is the best player on 

the team. 

Ms. Mufleh gathers the Fugees before warm-ups. 

‘‘Play to the whistle,’’ she tells them. ‘‘If the ref makes a bad call, 

you keep playing. O.K.? You focus on the game and how you’re 

going to win it. Because if you don’t, we’re going to lose your last 

game of the season, and you’re going home early.’’ 

Just before the opening whistle, some of the Fugees see a strange 

sight on the sideline. A teacher from the school of Josiah Saydee, 

a Liberian forward, has come to see him play. Some older refugee 

children from the complexes in Clarkston have managed rides to 

the game, an hour from home. Several volunteers from resettlement agencies show up. For the first time all year, the Fugees have 

fans. 

The Fugees come out shooting—and missing—frequently. They 

lead, 1–0, at the half. In the second half, it’s as if a force field protects the Fire’s goal. After a half-dozen misses, the Fugees score 

again midway through the second half, to lead by 2–1. 

35 

Then, with just minutes to go, Jorge Pinzon of the Fire gets free 

about 25 yards from the Fugees’ goal. He squares his shoulders and 

leans into a shot that arcs beautifully over the players’ heads. 

Eldin Subasic, the Fugees’ Bosnian goalie, leaps. The ball brushes 

his hands and deflects just under the bar, tying the game. 

The final whistle blows moments later. The Fugees’ season is 

over. 

‘‘You had them,’’ Ms. Mufleh tells her team after the game. ‘‘You 

had them at 2 to 1, and you wouldn’t finish it.’’ 

The Fugees are crushed. 

‘‘We lost, I mean, we tied our game,’’ says Mafoday Jawneh, the 

sensitive newcomer to the team. ‘‘It was so. . . . ’’ His voice trails 

off. ‘‘I don’t know what it was.’’ 

AN UNPLEASANT HOLIDAY GIFT

The holidays are a festive time in Clarkston. Santa Claus arrives 

by helicopter at City Hall. The mayor is there to greet him, as are 

some of the Fugees. 

They have other concerns besides Christmas. The Fugees have 

held two carwashes in town, to raise $1,000 to go to a tournament 

in Savannah in late January. They have come up $130 short, and 

Ms. Mufleh tells them that unless they raise the money, they are 

not going. When one player suggests asking their parents, Ms. 

Mufleh says that any player who asks a parent for tournament 

money will be kicked off the team. 

She tells them, ‘‘You need to ask yourselves what you need to do 

for your team.’’ 

* * * * * * * 

‘‘You need to ask yourself what you need to do for your team,’’ 

Jeremiah Ziaty says. 

He is at home in his kitchen, talking with Prince Tarlue, a teammate from Liberia, making a case for a team project. Some of the 

boys are to meet at Eldin Subasic’s apartment. They can knock on 

doors in town and offer to rake leaves to raise the money to get 

to Savannah. No need telling Coach, unless they raise enough cash. 

Prince says he is in. Grace is in, too. Some older boys in the refugee community offer to help out as well. Late on a Sunday morning, they set out. 

That afternoon, Ms. Mufleh’s cellphone rings. It’s Eldin, who 

asks if she will pick up Grace and take him home. They have been 

raking leaves all day, he says, and Grace does not want to walk 

home in the dark. Oh, Eldin adds, he wants to give her the money. 

‘‘What money?’’ she asks. 

‘‘You said we needed $130,’’ he tells her. ‘‘So we got $130.’’ 

* * * * * * * 

Ms. Mufleh and Ms. Ediger, the team manager, spend the holiday vacation visiting the players’ families. On Dec. 26, Ms. Mufleh 

receives a fax on Town of Clarkston letterhead. 

Effectively immediately, the fax informs her, the Fugees soccer 

team is no longer welcome to play at Milam Park. The city is handing the field to a youth sports coordinator who plans to run a youth 

baseball and football program. 

36 

Questioned by this reporter, Mayor Swaney says he has forgotten 

that in October the City Council gave the Fugees six months. A few 

days later, he tells Ms. Mufleh the team can stay through March. 

In early January, Ms. Mufleh logs on to Google Earth, and scans 

satellite images of Clarkston. There are green patches on the campuses of Georgia Perimeter College, and at the Atlanta Area School 

for the Deaf, around the corner from City Hall. She hopes to find 

the Fugees a permanent home. 

CORRECTION: FEBRUARY 1, 2007

A front-page article on Jan. 21 about a soccer program for refugee boys in Clarkston, Ga., rendered incorrectly a quotation from 

The Atlanta Journal-Constitution in which Mayor Lee Swaney of 

Clarkston commented on the use of a town park. He said, ‘‘There 

will be nothing but baseball down there as long as I am mayor.’’ 

He did not say ‘‘baseball and football.’’ 

EDITORS’ NOTE: MARCH 4, 2007

A front-page article on Jan. 21 reported on a soccer program for 

refugee boys in Clarkston, Ga., and how it has come to symbolize 

the passions that run high in the area over the issue of immigration. The article included a statement that Clarkston’s mayor, Lee 

Swaney, had forced the resignation of the town’s longtime police 

chief, in part because of complaints from refugees that police officers were harassing them. 

The former police chief, Charles Nelson—who was not identified 

by name in the article—called The Times on Feb. 5 to say that he 

had resigned voluntarily. Mayor Swaney says that Mr. Nelson left 

on his own accord. 

The Times tried several times to contact Mr. Nelson for comment 

before publication. The article should have said that he could not 

be reached, and it should have attributed the information about the 

circumstances of his resignation to those who provided it. 

(37) 

APPENDIX VI 

LEGISLATION INTRODUCED IN THE GEORGIA GENERAL ASSEMBLY, 

APRIL 2003 

HOUSE BILL 1002

By: Representatives Drenner of the 57th, Mobley of the 58th, Marin of the 66th, and 

Benfield of the 56th, Post 1 

A BILL TO BE ENTITLED

AN ACT To amend Chapter 60 of Title 36 of the Official Code of Georgia Annotated, 

relating to general provisions applicable to counties and municipalities, so as to 

provide that voluntary agencies that assist with the resettlement of refugees must 

make certain reports to the county and municipality in which such agencies are 

located; to provide a definition; to repeal conflicting laws; and for other purposes. 

Be it enacted by the General Assembly of Georgia: 

Section 1. Chapter 60 of Title 36 of the Official Code of Georgia 

Annotated, relating to general provisions applicable to counties and 

municipalities, is amended by adding a new Code Section 

36l60l24 to read as follows: 

‘‘36l60l24. 

‘‘Any voluntary agency that is involved in the resettlement of refugees in this state shall report to the governing authority of the 

county and, if located within a municipality, to the governing authority of the municipality in which such agency is located each 

time that such agency resettles or assists in the resettlement of ten 

or more refugees at one time in such county or municipality within 

ten days of such refugees arrival in the county. For the purposes 

of this Code section, ‘voluntary agency’ shall mean an agency located in this state that contracts with the United States Department of State or a National Voluntary Resettlement Agency to provide reception and placement services to refugees who reside in 

this state.’’ 

Section 2. All laws and parts of laws in conflict with this Act are 

repealed. 

(38) 

APPENDIX VII 

ACRONYMS

FY—Fiscal Year 

PRM—Bureau of Population, Refugees and Migration 

ESL— English as Second Language 

USRAP—U.S. Refugee Admissions Program 

GAO—Government Accountability Office 

ORR—Office of Refugee Resettlement 

MARTA—Metropolitan Atlanta Rapid Transit Authority 

Æ