Mustafa Mohamed, a leader in the Louisville, Ky., Somalian community, is often asked by Habitat families to speak at their ground breakings and house dedications.

The Human Dream
Homeownership beckons struggling families near and far

By Rebekah Daniel

American Dream

What is...

Going Deeper

The “American dream,” a path to success entailing hard work, smart decisions, and perhaps a little luck, has endured for generations. Each new crop of youngsters sets out with a goal: earn enough money to afford the things you like, make enough time to enjoy them and find a little place to call your own.

But from many perspectives — especially housing — Americans do not own a monopoly on dreaming. Families around the world long for a place to live where their children are safe and comfortable, where they do not have to choose between food and warmth. In so many ways, a person’s quality of life is inextricably bound up in the space in which he or she lives, and the pull toward a decent, affordable place to call “home” is a universal dream unfettered by nationality.

The search for “home” takes new meaning for immigrant families joining the ranks of existing Habitat for Humanity homeowners in sweating on the build site, making house payments and securing a stable future for their children. Habitat homeowners from Vietnam and Somalia, Mexico and the Sudan, have put down roots in the United States, adding their cultural flavors to the recipe of opportunity that Habitat extends to families in need around the world. The end result is a more global experience for volunteers, a community-building experience for the homeowners and a world that has become a little closer, one house at a time.

PAVING THE WAY

In La Crosse, Wis., Habitat for Humanity offers a meeting ground for Megan Thorstad and Vang Vang to forge connections.

The paths traveled by immigrant families to reach Habitat for Humanity’s homeownership opportunity in the United States vary as widely as the countries from which they set out. Often, local Habitat supporters who find themselves building with immigrant families are in communities with active refugee assistance agencies. Refugees, a specific subset within the larger “immigrant” designation, have left their home countries, according to United Nations definition, due to a “well-founded fear of being persecuted for reasons of race, religion, nationality, membership of a particular social group or political opinion.” But regardless of status, one immigrant family often serves as pioneers for extended relatives, calling out the international equivalent of, “Come on in, the water’s fine!”

Such is the case in Louisville, Ky., where a growing community of Somalian and Sudanese families has settled with the assistance of Kentucky Refugee Ministries and Catholic Charities. “In 2003, we had one family from Somalia that applied and eventually decided not to purchase a home,” says Janel Temple, Habitat for Humanity of Metro Louisville’s director of outreach and family services. “But he spread the news among his friends, and we had quite a few come in after that.”

Most of the immigrant families Temple has worked with are employed in service-sector jobs in hospitals, hotels or production-oriented businesses in which language skills aren’t essential, she says. And while the lack of easy communication can require extra effort on the build site, strong relationships between Habitat’s immigrant families and volunteers have taken root.

“Since a lot of the families work third shifts, they’re often on the construction site during the week,” Temple says. “Our construction staff and regular volunteers get a lot of opportunities to really know the families.

“There’s a sense of peace among them. … They’ve been through a lot, and they’re grateful to be alive. I’m grateful to be among the grateful.”

THE HUMAN DREAM

In Louisville, Ky., house dedications often reflect both the Christian heritage of Habitat for Humanity and the homeowner family's faith traditions.

The United States is engaged in an immigration boom: the number of immigrants increased from 19.8 million in 1990 to 31.1 million in 2000, an increase that is without precedent both in terms of absolute numbers and the percentage of growth. Since speedy job placement is a priority in refugee resettlement, and generally a priority for immigrants overall, Habitat affiliates working near larger cities with opportunities for employment are more likely to see increasing numbers of foreign-born families in their midst.

The implications for low-income housing providers are significant. Legal immigration status — a “must” for Habitat affiliates with stringent grant reporting requirements or stewardship concerns about how to recoup the cost of the house if the homeowner family were deported — does not guarantee employment. For those immigrants whose education credentials may not translate easily to prospective U.S. employers, finding decent, affordable housing becomes another hurdle to overcome in the disorienting transition to life in America. For refugees and lower-income migrants, the challenge is even more significant.

In the San Diego area, more than 95 percent of the families selected for Habitat houses by San Diego Habitat for Humanity are Mexican immigrants, says executive director Cheryl Keenan, though a recent seven-house subdivision brought together Caucasian, African-American, Mexican and Vietnamese families. However, she has yet to encounter resistance from the public to building with these families. It’s a matter of doing the math, she says: Habitat builds houses with people who make a certain percentage of the area’s median income. If you target that specific income range, the families in the San Diego area who qualify tend to be mostly immigrants.

Such was not the case in Columbus, Ohio, when Greater Columbus Habitat for Humanity began building with significant numbers of immigrant families from Somalia. The resistance there was multi-faceted, says Dawn Daniels-McNear, who served as family services director there until taking a position with Habitat for Humanity International in 2007. “We received it not only from the community, who were concerned that it was turning into Somalian Habitat for Humanity, but also from volunteers,” she says. “We had church groups that said, ‘We haven’t built with someone who speaks English in four years, and it’s hurting the relationships we have with them.’”

Communication and education for all parties involved has been a cornerstone of the Columbus affiliate’s strategy to ensuring a satisfying volunteer experience while continuing to build with their Somalian families. Volunteers learned that no offense was intended when a Somalian man didn’t hold his hand out to shake with a female volunteer; in his culture, men and women simply don’t touch if they aren’t family members. The partner families learned that while the women could continue to wear their flowing hijabs on the build site, they needed to wear a belt to contain the fabric for safety around saws. “And some of the nonverbal hand gestures had to be adjusted,” Daniels-McNear says. “You know how you motion for someone to come to you with your index finger? We did that all the time on the build site, but in Somalia, you use that gesture only for lower animals, like a dog.”

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