Connecting with Malemployed Immigrants
Yesterday evening I attended an important event in my community of practice, skilled immigrants looking to position themselves in the US job market. They are newcomers with college degrees or higher who often encounter socio-economic barriers to integration here. Nationwide, nearly 2 million of them are malemployed, which means they get stuck in survival jobs “for which they’re overqualified or overeducated or both,” I wrote for NJSpotlight in 2017(1).
The occasion was speed networking training co-hosted by Upwardly Global and World Education Services (WES), two national nonprofits that are leaders in integrating immigrant professionals and evaluating credentials (the latter). About a dozen job-seekers participated. They were matched with an equal number of volunteers from WES with whom they sat down, in rapid 10-minute rounds, to practice both presentation skills and pitching for a potential job.
Before that, I introduced myself and the project I’m developing at the Newmark Graduate School of Journalism at CUNY, so they all knew I was in the room. My work aims to raise awareness of this population’s stories and struggles while fundamentally changing the narrative around immigrant workers.
I waited until the end of the evening to approach them and did not assume that they would all want to talk with me. The barriers they face affect their lives at all levels — financial, certainly, but also psychological through the loss of professional identity, social status and sense of purpose.
I came away with confirmation that the work I set out to do, while challenging, was both possible and needed. Every immigrant I approached welcomed my presence, gladly exchanged contact information and wanted to help. What an uplifting experience.
When they were practicing speed networking, I saw their intense focus on the task at hand; I observed their resilience — their soft yet determined postures while they imagined interviewing for jobs where they would feel not only wanted, but also valued.
The experience impressed me and struck a chord.
“We need to talk,” said one of the participants, a young Dominican man who earned an MBA in Spain and has years of experience in real estate. “We need to tell people what we’ve done, what we can do. Otherwise, they won’t know.”
I know those emotions well; I’ve walked in those shoes. The immigrants heard my accent; they know I share their story, I told them. They hope I understand them better than the outside world does and, perhaps, ever will. And, yes, I do.
But that’s where it can get tricky for me, as a journalist or just as who I am. Especially as I practice the teachings of social journalism, a participatory form that uses listening and audience involvement to raise the value of its craft. I know how fortunate I am to be the person who gets to tell the story — their stories. So “why am I the one?”
I’ve lived with that question under my skin ever since I can remember. Perhaps I get to tell the story because, as people fabricate life together, this is a role that was bestowed upon me by the trust of others and I accepted. Or, perhaps, it is because this is the only road I cared to follow, and others kept encouraging me to stay on it.
There’s no quick answer. But there are approaches that help me live up to the sense of calling it evokes. Perhaps that’s why social journalism resonates with me. Here are some of the values that it reinforces and I try to go by. Both Rong Xiaoqing, a reporter for the Sing Tao Daily, a Chinese language newspaper in New York, and Jehangir Khattak, co-director of the Center for Community and Ethnic Media in New York, validated them during a recent presentation in our class at the Newmark School. They have decades of experience serving immigrant communities.
- Listen to the people you want to represent before you think you know who they are.
- Go into a community, especially if immigrant, with respect and preparation. Don’t show up without educating yourself about their foundational cultural norms; who they are and why they’re here; what their struggles are and why. Such groundwork will demonstrate not only care but also respect for their truth, as per Dr. Lisbeth Berbary’s ethnographic approach. Both breed trust.
- Avoid parachuting. To the community such style may feel like a one-night stand. Be willing to spend at least some time with them. After all, you’re asking for their time.
- Patience is an important asset in earning trust. Diasporic communities often come from experiences of loss and hardship. Time and understanding are necessary tools for gaining access.