Giving a voice to some new Americans | إعطاء صوت للاجئين

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Published in
3 min readApr 11, 2016

Nolan Phillips, TC’18

Many of us have read the stories of Syrian refugees as told by the Humans of New York Facebook page. Nolan Phillips reflects on why the HONY refugee series is so effective, and so important.

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America’s favorite blog never fails to provide a daily dose of heartbreak and triumph to its 16 million Facebook followers. The concept is well-known: Brandon Stanton, the mastermind behind the Facebook page, posts daily interviews with passersby throughout New York City. The interviews can reveal surprising details — some amusing and some deeply tragic — hidden behind these nameless faces. Beginning in December 2015, HONY used this voyeuristic platform to share the stories of “Syrian-Americans” — refugees from Syria’s (and Iraq’s) brutal civil war, who plan to resettle in America.

Humans of New York is skilled at making its readers empathize with people they’ve never met. This isn’t easy when the interviewees speak through an Arabic translator. The many nuances of speech could easily disappear through a murky translation — but in this case, they don’t. Despite the language barrier, HONY’s refugee stories are vibrant and affecting. The success of HONY’s “Syrian Americans” series rests largely on the work of Brandon’s Arabic translators, who transform the interviews into a casual American English. Though the Arabic language contains many idioms and religious interjections, the translators wisely avoid any italicized exoticisms, clear evidence that the subjects are speaking a foreign language. What’s left is a transcript that crosses all cultural boundaries and taps into the heart of the story.

HONY has previously traveled to far-off destinations, providing insight into the lives of Iranians and Pakistanis and showing us how their tribulations are not so different from our own. But never before has the blog used its influence among the American public to make such an important political statement. At a time when American presidential candidates campaign on the promise to bar all Syrian refugees, HONY shows us the refugees’ indelible humanity. The Syrian-Americans’ stories, in the longstanding tradition of HONY, present people who remind us of ourselves. One woman is a brilliant scholar, one man is an ambitious architect, and a little boy is obsessed with dinosaurs. But these familiar characters have all been reshaped by unimaginable tragedy. To be a refugee means to give up on your passions, to constantly live in transit, to never again enjoy the modest sense of comfort and security that we, looking through the screen of an iPhone, feel entitled to. After reading these narratives, closing America’s doors seems inexcusable.

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