Headline: “Syrian refugees adapt to Vt. life.” Why is this news? Hasn’t this been the same story since the earliest days of the Republic, with newcomers adapting to America, and America adapting to newcomers?
Not quite. Because in the age of Trump, as in several other periods of the national life, refugees and immigrants are viewed with hostility, fear and suspicion by a significant number of Americans. So the historically normal becomes the ahistorical noteworthy.
The Associated Press story that carried that headline in last week’s Valley News recounted the resettlement in Rutland of Hussam Alhallak, his wife, Hazar Mansour, and their two children. The family fled their war-torn homeland, where Mansour’s father, a professor, was shot and killed on his way home from work in 2012 and where they lived in constant fear of violence. They went first to Turkey from Syria before making their way to the United States and Rutland, where they are very glad to be indeed.
“This is my dream,” said Alhallak. “Thank god for everything.”
Alhallak’s American dream comes straight out of the immigrant playbook. Working the early morning shift at a bakery, he took accounting classes along with his wife at a community college and landed a job as an accountant, his profession in Damascus.
The family learned English, and they, along with two other refugee families, have been welcomed by community members who have provided support in various forms. The children are reported to be doing well in school and to have lots of friends. The family will soon move from a small apartment to a new house being constructed through Habitat for Humanity of Rutland County, a project that was jump-started by Alhallak’s co-workers at Casella Waste Systems, who raised $16,000, which the company matched.
The backdrop to this familiar immigrant trajectory was anything but normal, however. Three years ago, when then-Mayor Christopher Louras disclosed plans to resettle up to a 100 refugees in his small, economically distressed city, the plan very nearly tore the community apart. While many welcomed the idea, virulent opposition arose, based in part on the plans being developed in secret, but also on fear — that the newcomers would be an economic burden or pose a security threat or change the nature of the community.
Then came the election of Donald Trump, soon followed by a ban on travelers from certain Muslim-majority countries. As a result only three families eventually arrived in Rutland, and Louras was defeated for re-election in a landslide that he and many others attributed to his advocacy for revitalizing the city through resettlement of refugees.
The question arises whether the experience of the three families in Rutland represents a happy ending or a happy new beginning. Many communities around the country are experiencing population decline and economic stagnation that could be slowed or even reversed were immigrants to be again welcomed. As immigration has slowed to a trickle during the Trump administration, cities such as Erie, Pa., have been scuffling, according to a recent analysis by The Pew Charitable Trusts. “We have literally hundreds of job openings, and our landlords have vacancies,” said Renee Lamis, chief of staff for Erie’s mayor. “We are a perfect example of a place in need of immigrants and refugees.”
Contrary to the president’s assertion that America is “full,” many cities and small towns desperately need to attract immigrants to renew themselves. There’s little to fear and much to gain from their presence, as previous generations of newcomers have demonstrated.