Joe T Burns

Excerpts from Good Times in Mogadishu, Somalia. I was born in Mogadishu, the capital city of Somalia. Somalia is a long, narrow country that wraps around the Horn of Africa. My name is Zeinab Ahmed Omar. My father is Ahmed Omar Moallim. My grandfather is Omar Moallim Abdullah. Our surnames are our paternal grandfather’s first names. Women, when they marry, do not change their names. By keeping the name of their father and grandfather, they are, in effect, maintaining their affiliation with their clan of birth. My plans for living the teenage life modeled by my cousins were rudely interrupted by the Somali Civil War in 1991. I fled Somalia with my family and thousands of others. There was no more talk among young women about dates, fashion and hairstyles. All I was left with were two younger siblings to look after and desperation to escape poverty. Our world turned upside down. We had to find somewhere else to regain happiness. We first went to Ethiopia, then Canada, and in these foreign countries we had to learn different cultures and different languages. I came to the US with my ex-husband and son who was born in Canada in 2010. I received a BA there and later went to school at St Thomas. I was hired by Southwest High School to work with Somali students, parents who speak limited or no English, and support staff who are working with a Somali population. I am also a full time 2nd grade teacher at a charter school in St Paul. I had hoped the US would be better, but unfortunately that was not always the case: I had a horrible neighbor and had to evacuate my apartment. But I still find that I am much happier here. I will not let one person determine my happiness. Today I am a permanent resident who is actively pursuing citizenship and have about a year to go. I love to cook and sometimes go out to eat Somali food at a Somali restaurant. I believe I have rights as a human being in the US, but unfortunately sometimes it can get threatened by the media betraying negative images. I chose to be in part of Facing America to show everyone the normality of immigrants such as myself. I want everyone to know that we too strive to survive. Here is the full story from Zeinab. Good Times in Mogadishu, Somalia Unlike many African nations, Somalia is composed of a single, homogeneous ethnic group. Although Somalis may differ in nuances of local lifestyle, they share a uniform language, religion, and culture, and trace their heritage to a common ancestor. I was born in Mogadishu, the capital city of Somalia. Somalia is a long, narrow country that wraps around the Horn of Africa. It has the longest coast of any African nation, bordering on both the Red Sea and the Indian Ocean. It is located on the east coast of Africa, bordering Kenya and Ethiopia by land and Yemen by sea. The Somali language is a mixture of Arabic and colonial languages (Italian, French and English) due to colonization. The written language was officially recognized in 1972, ‘not long ago’ one might say. When I reminisce back to the late ‘80s and beginning of ‘90s, my house was full of young single women. The standard dress code for us was a traditional costume called a dirac (a long transparent loose dress), worn with an underskirt, tank-top and a light shawl. My two older cousins, who lived with us, were allowed to go out with their friends once they turned 16. There were only two rules: go out with friends who had cars (so they could pick them up and drop them off), and be back home before 10pm. Potential suitors would politely come inside the house and greet family members with the customary “Galab wanaagsan” (good afternoon) or “Habeen wanaagsan” (good evening). If you were going out with friends in Mogadishu, you wanted to look your best, even if you were only going out for some tea at Juba or Aruba (famous Mogadishu cafés), to do some shopping, or to maybe have a night out with friends, you always wanted to look good. Just before they left to go ‘out’ with friends, my cousins would burn some of my grandmother’s homemade unsi (incense) and apply it under their clothes for a long-lasting patchouli-mixed-with-vanilla-like sweet scent. It was amazing! I would sit in the room with them and hope that some of the perfume would get onto my clothes and in my hair. I often tried on their beautiful, multi-colored diracs and high heels. I could not wait to turn 16, get my hair highlighted just like my cousins, and go out with friends. School in Mogadishu and the Daily Routine We would wake up at dawn, eat porridge and go off to school, usually by foot, except the rich kids. I loved school! I remember being four years old, impatiently waiting to start school (children start school at 5). I would imitate the way the older kids wore their school uniforms and the homework they completed the night before. I was reading the Somali language before I even started school because of my older siblings and my cousins. Life was beautiful in Mogadishu with the sun shining on our skin, feeling the ocean breeze and water on our cheeks as we played on the beach. Good God, life was beautiful! Names Somali names have three parts. The first name is the given name, and is specific to an individual. The second name is the first name of the child's father and the third name is the first name of the child's paternal grandfather; thus siblings, both male and female, will share the same second and third names. This is why your students may have names that sound repetitious, i.e. Mohamed Mohamed. Mohamed is the first name. The second name is the grandfather’s first name, Mohamed. My name is Zeinab Ahmed Omar. My father is Ahmed Omar Moallim. My grandfather is Omar Moallim Abdullah. Our surnames are our paternal grandfather’s first names. Women, when they marry, do not change their names. By keeping the name of their father and grandfather, they are, in effect, maintaining their affiliation with their clan of birth. Poverty/War and Confusion My plans for living the teenage life modeled by my cousins were rudely interrupted by the Somali Civil War in 1991. I fled Somalia with my family and thousands of others. There was no more talk among young women about dates, fashion and hairstyles. All I was left with were two younger siblings to look after and desperation to escape poverty. Our world turned upside down. We had to find somewhere else to regain happiness. We first went to Ethiopia, then Canada and in these foreign countries we had to learn different cultures and different languages. Language/Immigration Somalis across the globe, whether it is here in the US or Europe, are increasingly frustrated with language barriers within the country they reside. Somali immigrants should not be regarded as ‘strange’. The story of immigration to North America began long before the founding of the United States. Somalis weren't the first refugees to land here, and they aren't the last. Minnesota's foreign-born population doubled from 1990 to 2000 due to immigration. Russian immigrants leaving after the break-up of the Soviet Union, refugees from Bosnia and Herzegovina, Liberia, and Ethiopia all helped boost the numbers. More recently, Karenni refugees from Myanmar have also made Minnesota their home. Gender Relations Back in Somalia, especially in Mogadishu, many women earned livings for their families, owned property, lived lives as they wished, received education and literacy among them was relatively high. Although some women, particularly in the cities, held jobs, the culturally preferred or idealized situation was for the husbands to work and the wives to stay at home with the children. Often women immigrated to the US first and by the time her husband joined her several years later, she had already learned the language and found employment. Currently, there is a rising divorce rate in the Somali-American community due to difficulty adjusting to these new societal norms. Somalis in Minnesota/Education System I was hired by Southwest High School this year to work with Somali students, parents who speak limited or no English, and support staff who are working with a Somali population. Now that I am here, as a Somali woman, it can often be a challenge to balance my dual role of language interpreter and culture interpreter. For example, I recently had a funny misunderstanding between a staff member and a parent who thought the staff member who was promoting their child to join a school extra-curricular club meant to go to a nightclub. The parent was mortified to think a school professional would encourage their child to go out drinking and partying which is what “club” means in Somali. In this case, translation alone is not enough to clarify the language used in an educational setting. Cultural translation is necessary as well. Somali parents are struggling to understand the US educational system, as it is extremely different from the Somali educational system. In Somalia, teachers and staff at large would teach, discipline and make sure students did their homework, classwork and completed assignments. A teacher never called parents and never complained. Our culture was such that school staff was expected to maintain order and administer discipline. Students were afraid to act out or not perform for fear of punishment. Parents and teachers shared this role. The educational system was based on values that were communal. This might explain why some of our Somali parents do not attend school events or become confused when they receive calls. Becoming Culturally Responsive Educators Somali parents are attempting to educate their children within a backdrop of discrimination targeted towards Muslims, English language learners, Black students, immigrants and refugees (Bigelow, 2010). Somali women have an even bigger challenge. In my Educational Psychology class at St. Thomas, Vygotsky, ‘our educational father’, stresses the importance of connecting children’s social worlds with their classrooms, as a means of enhancing learning. A good starting point for this would be to develop strong relationships with Somali-American parents. As a future educator myself, we should seek to position ourselves as learners and learn from students and their families about their home cultures. We should strive to eradicate misconceptions about Somali cultural norms and values, as well as misconceptions of how education is viewed by the Somali community in general. Somali parents are incredible advocates for their children, but often do not know how to effectively participate in their American schooling. Due to differing cultural norms around education, some Somali parents find engaging with their children’s schools intimidating. In my position as a bilingual aid, I often receive feedback of teachers from parents and of parents from teachers. It seems to me that much of miscommunication comes from a mutual lack of cultural competency. This year we offered monthly family engagement evenings to educate ELL families on the American educational system through the bilingual department; however, attendance was low. In addition, educators would benefit by striving to understand the Somali parents’ perspectives as well. In closing, I want to share a favorite quote from the beloved prophet, Jesus, whose name in Arabic is Isse, and who is known as a great prophet by Muslims. Prophet Isse (peace be upon him ‘pbuh’) Islam I tell you the truth, it is hard for a rich man to enter the kingdom of heaven. Again I tell you, it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of heaven. Jesus Christ Please note: This is solely my perspective; I’m speaking on my own behalf and not the greater Somali community.