“You often hear, ‘In America, you don’t even know your next-door neighbor.’ Jonathan House is not like that. All the people at the house give you a feeling of belonging to a group and a place.”
Safety, Comfort, and Belonging
IAFR Jonathan House offers safe, stable shelter and supportive community to people who are seeking asylum in the US. Security and shelter are necessary for human survival. Community is equally important in affirming and healing the humanity of those who have been persecuted, isolated, and forcibly-displaced.
A former resident recently shared how she experienced community during her time at Jonathan House – and why she has stayed connected to it.
“During my time at Jonathan House, the people and the environment gave me a sense of comfort and safety. You are in safe hands with and around your housemates and the IAFR staff.”
Togetherness Amidst Community Difference
“Jonathan House was a positive community because of the diversified personalities. It’s not just one person. You are not even united by the same ideology, language, or culture. Still, there is that sense of belonging together.”
“I have good memories of our togetherness, sharing, and laughter at the house,” the former resident stated. “You and your housemates laugh even for the things you don’t understand, when you’re trying to communicate with each other in different languages!”
Hope and Wholeness in Community
This sister has moved on from Jonathan House into her own housing. She has secured stable employment to provide for herself and her son. Even so, she continues to participate in the Jonathan House community. She attends Community Events, visits former housemates, and has helped to welcome new residents.
“I got a positive impact of the community while I was there, a sense of belonging and safety,” she said. “Staying in touch with friends at Jonathan House is also a good reminder. It’s a memorial of how far I’ve come from when I arrived. I can remember where I was, say to myself, ‘Because of this place…’ and see the shift in perspective.”
How does she characterize the shift that life in community brought about? “A lot of people come to Jonathan House feeling shattered. Jonathan House will help pick up your pieces, to feel whole again.”
What’s your main role as staff at IAFR Jonathan House?
My title is “Ministry Networker.” I think of myself as a physical therapist, strengthening the connective tissue among the people and organizations that support the survival and recovery of displaced people in the Twin Cities and beyond. So far I’ve been able to do things like connecting with organizations that support our residents’ career goals and using networks to help asylum seekers find safe shelter even when our rooms at Jonathan House are full.
How did you first learn about the plight of asylum-seeking individuals in America?
Like many Americans, I started hearing really upsetting stories on the news a few years ago about families being separated at the border, the inhumane practice of detaining people seeking asylum, and the shrinking number of refugees allowed to resettle in the U.S. Like many people, I heard these stories with grief and a sense of helplessness. I couldn’t listen for long, or too closely. I didn’t know what I could possibly do to help. The situation seemed far away and impossibly big. I suppose that it is the hope of those benefiting from this harm: that people of goodwill will respond as I first did, by becoming overwhelmed and looking away.
How did you first get involved in Jonathan House?
In spring 2019, my longtime friend Jason Lukis (also now on the Jonathan House team) called me with an invitation to join him in exploring a new ministry among asylum seekers. We were both beginners to this work, but the Holy Spirit planted a vision and we began seeking connections. We knew that there was a housing crisis among asylum seekers, and thought we might be called to start a new ministry to address this, but soon learned about Jonathan House and began getting to know the team. In the summer of 2020, we decided to join the International Association for Refugees and become members of the Jonathan House team.
What’s something that everyone can do to help the cause of asylum-seeking individuals in the US?
Firstly, you can push back against harmful narratives in your community and in your own mind. The fact that asylum seekers are so often imprisoned seems normal so long as we believe that they are criminals. In fact, seeking asylum is a human right, and detention and other administrative barriers to asylum are not only unnecessary – they are hurting people.
The most important thing you can offer to an asylum seeker is your friendship. Start from a place of human connection, and allow other support that you offer to flow from that place.
Is there a statistic or fact that has surprised you concerning asylum-seeking individuals?
Based on national news stories, I expected most asylum seekers in the Twin Cities to be Spanish-speaking individuals from Central America. In fact, the asylum-seeking community here is very diverse, with people coming from all over the world, including Africa, Asia and Europe. One need not speak Spanish to get involved in relationships with asylum seekers!
What is something asylum seeking individuals have taught you?
I’ve witnessed the power of faith on a new level. I’ve been a follower of Jesus my whole life, but I am blown away by the way that a relationship with God has sustained some of my asylum-seeking friends through unspeakable difficulties. I feel like they are re-evangelizing me, teaching me how good the Good News really is.
Any other line of work you’re in?
Along with our work at Jonathan House, Jason and I continue to explore ways that our training/experience as pastors and innovators can contribute to a Jesus-shaped movement of hospitality and solidarity among global neighbors. I’m also pursuing training as a spiritual director, based on the conviction that the justice movements of our day require spiritual vigor and a keen ear for the voice of God.
What languages do you speak?
English and a tiny bit of French.
Do you have any hobbies?
Camping, gardening, foraging for wild food, and cooking what I find and grow.
When asked what she hopes for, B.A. says, “First, our hope is always God. Second, I hope God will help me to see my family before I die, so we can be in one place and live life together.”
A Foundation of Faith
Faith has been an integral part of B.A.’s life and family history. She attended church with her family from the time she was a little girl, then raised her own children in the Christian faith. “I believe that Jesus is the truth, the way, and the life,” she says. “My kids are now involved in church back in my home country, too; some are singing, and some are preaching.”
Several years ago, however, political strife violently disrupted B.A.’s life. Close family members spoke out for democracy and political change; as a result, they were murdered by the government. B.A. herself faced imprisonment and torture. “I ran out of that country to save my life, because they wanted to kill me, too,” she recalls.
B.A. sought asylum in the U.S. – a painful journey because she had to leave her children behind. Still, local churches have continued to provide crucial support and encouragement both to her, in the US, and to her children back in her home country. “God is with me and my children in any condition,” she says.
“People who knew my history helped to hide my kids when I fled,” she says. “More recently, when my daughter became sick, her church community helped send her to the hospital to get surgery.”
Faith and Hope in Community
When B.A. arrived in Minnesota, she also wanted to get connected to a local church, so she started looking for information on congregations from her ethnic group. She heard about a pastor in Minneapolis that came from the same region of her country and started to attend his church. She continues to be involved even after moving to Jonathan House in St. Paul.
A life-giving faith or worldview plays an important part in recovering from forced displacement, and faith communities often provide important spiritual and relational support to individuals who are seeking asylum. As B.A. states, “Thanks be to God, my faith has helped me everywhere to live in hope.”
Because of the important relationship between faith and hope, IAFR seeks to support Jonathan House residents, as they desire, in their spiritual growth and help connect them to their local religious communities.
“Jonathan House encourages me in my faith,” B.A. says. “You enter with me into my problems to pray with me. You got me connected to my church and talked with my pastor. This is what I appreciate.”
Sheltering Hope
The pandemic temporarily closed the doors of many places of worship, including B.A.’s congregation. Headaches resulting from injuries she suffered back home have also made it challenging for her to attend church in person. “The pastor calls me and prays with me. He invites me to attend when I can; he’s an excellent pastor.” IAFR staff helped B.A. access her church’s worship online so she can still participate in the community.
As she waits to be reunited with her local church family in person, and eventually with her own family, B.A. expresses gratitude for the community at Jonathan House. “It is a very nice place for asylum seekers,” she says, “You accept people as family.” The safe, stable shelter of Jonathan House is one more way that local churches invest in the resilience and faith-filled hope of refugee neighbors.
“My life is because of God, by his protection and care through all the difficulties,” B.A. affirms. “God is the One who kept us safe; he is the One who did it. We know how we are weak and fallen, but God keeps us safe and saved us, so we praise him.”
“When God will open the door of his house, we will go and worship.”
Sarah Miller, founder of Jonathan House, tells the behind-the-scenes wonders of how Jonathan House went from thought to action. Miller calls the idea the ‘pie in the sky,’ a little out of reach, but attainable with faith and prayer.
Miller was talking about Jonathan House everywhere she went, praying and asking God to provide. “I had to identify the personnel that would be needed. I knew I needed a full-time staff and one part-time staff, or something like that. The Jonathan House proposal also included a goal of raising 45,000 dollars to set-up and operate Jonathan House for 18 months,” said Miller. “Resources are what I was faced with, and I was the only person. I just thought, ‘Great, God. Now what? It felt huge.”
So, first, how to meet the funding goal: $45,000?
A couple that financially supported IAFR heard of the project and donated the first $600. It was a start, Miller explained. A donation that made funding for Jonathan House come alive.
One particular Saturday in September 2016, Miller went to a writing workshop in St. Paul. During the lunch break, Jonathan House became a topic of discussion. Another woman attending the writing class perked up at the mention of asylum seekers. Her visible interest caught Miller’s eye. Miller and the woman, SJ Holsteen, decided to meet a week later.
Holsteen volunteered to help write the first fundraising campaign that November. The online giving campaign exceeded its goal of raising 10% of the launch funds and helped give momentum to the project. Holsteen and Miller collaborated on grant proposals that also helped provide initial funds.
December of 2016 brought a couple that were working with asylum seekers in Sicily for 3 months. Josh and Jen Levin, heard of the project, met with Miller and joined IAFR to start Jonathan House.
“I never even got to recruit anyone; God just brought them,” said Miller.
During the summer of 2017 Miller continued to receive calls from organizations with asylum-seeking clients in need of housing, asking if Jonathan House had launched yet. Then Miller went to the conference in Texas and received the ultimate starting sign from Ashley Freeman, the founder of another asylum seeker housing ministry, DASH Network. Freeman ended the conversation asking, “What are you waiting for?”
The Vision Realized
After coming back from Texas, Miller met with Holsteen and the Levins to plan out and launch the vision. The first goal on the timeline for Jonathan House was to have a signed lease for a two bedroom apartment by September 1, 2017. Miller began looking on Craigslist. 24-hours within searching for a place to call Jonathan House, Miller got a call from Jenna Daniels, the Pastor for Awaken Community Covenant Church, St. Paul.
Daniels had previously been involved with helping spread word of Jonathan House. She called Miller to tell her about an opening for a house apartment owned by another Covenant church. Miller set up a meeting with Anne Vining, Pastor of First Covenant Church. Vining explained that the church had actually been hoping to have the apartment rented by September 1. They fast tracked the meetings, partnerships and lease agreement. Miller had the key in hand for the two-bedroom apartment by September 9.
The same week, before the lease with First Covenant was even signed, an email came through the MN Asylum Network about a house up for lease through St Stephanus Lutheran Church in St. Paul’s Frogtown neighborhood. Miller began talking with the St Stephanus church council; it took a year of planning and raising additional funds, but Jonathan House opened the Frogtown site in early 2019. Both of these sites are in partnership with a local church, which is one of the highest values for Jonathan House.
“We didn’t even have to go looking for church partners; they came to us,” said Miller.
The metaphor Miller used to explain the concept of Jonathan House was the “pie in the sky.” It all seemed like such a far reach. But the whole project was God bringing the personnel, the locations and the resources. All of it.
“For a good year there, my theme was God being all about pie in the sky,” said Miller.
Jonathan House is the first supportive housing program in Minnesota designed specifically for and uniquely serving asylum seekers. In the three years of its operation, it has provided shelter to 17 men, women and children going through the asylum process. Seven individuals have moved on from Jonathan House into stable employment and housing.
Miller ended the interview sharing that through the entire process, “We are not the saviors. We have to trust in God.”
He is the great savior and just as Miller said before, the pie in the sky.
Sarah Miller, founder of Jonathan House, tells the behind-the-scenes wonders of how Jonathan House went from thought to action. Miller calls the idea the ‘pie in the sky,’ a little out of reach, but attainable with faith and prayer.
In 2013, Miller decided to research more about asylum seekers in the US context. She wanted to compare her experiences working with asylum seekers in Germany to what happened to asylum seekers in her own country.
She was confounded by what she discovered.
In Germany, the government provided housing, food, essential medical care, and education for asylum seekers. They were not allowed to work, but the German government made sure they were provided for while their cases were being decided. The situation for asylum seekers in the US was a very different story. The federal government did not provide food, shelter or education. The asylum seekers were not allowed to work for a minimum of their first six months in the US; this wait period before qualifying for legal work authorization has recently changed to 365 days. The more shocking part was the US government often held asylum seekers in detention centers, even though they had committed zero criminal acts.
The detained asylum seekers had done one thing: crossed the border in search of asylum, a legally-recognized right by both international and US law.
Around this time, Tom Albinson, Miller’s boss at International Teams, left and started a new missions organization called International Association for Refugees (IAFR). While she stepped into a different role as International Teams’ U.S. Area Director, ultimately Miller decided to join Albinson’s small but growing team at IAFR so she could address the large gap she noticed in the US government’s response to asylum seekers.
Miller’s first assignment was to research the situation. She looked into a lot of ideas and concepts nationally, trying to figure out who was doing what with asylum seekers. Miller had an intern from Bethel University help her investigate what was happening locally, as well. They met with anyone and everyone in the Twin Cities engaged with asylum seekers in some way, shape or form. Through this process, Miller came into contact with Center for Victims of Torture (CVT), The Advocates for Human Rights, Sarah’s…an Oasis for Women, The Basilica of St. Mary and a couple other church groups.
Through this local research, Miller saw two concerns. First, the various groups and organizations were not well connected with each other. While talking to one group, they would tell Miller to talk to another group about a matter that came up. It raised a question, “What would happen if at minimum we each knew of each other and what we had to offer asylum seekers? How could that benefit asylum seekers here in the Twin Cities?”
The answer resulted in the establishment of the Minnesota Asylum Network. In 2016, Miller and an intern from Advocates for Human Rights started to gather the Minnesota Asylum Network for quarterly “sack lunch” events to discuss or learn challenges specific to asylum seekers.
Through these meetings and research, the second concern Miller became aware of was the gap in housing for asylum seekers. There are around 3,000 refugees seeking asylum in MN and only 50 beds in the Twin Cities shelters available specifically for asylum seekers.
Miller started praying, asking God about the housing issue, and asked her boss about what a solution would look like. Albinson told her to write a project proposal.
Miller wrote up a proposal for a supportive housing program that would guide asylum seekers into a safe space of shelter, practical help, and community in Minneapolis-St. Paul. A space granting asylum seekers a chance to survive and recover from the trauma of forced displacement.
But what to call it?
Miller thought of a story Albinson, IAFR’s founder, told her once. Albinson was at a refugee camp when a man came to him and asked if he could open a door for the man to get into the US. Albinson could not, but asked to pray with the man at the camp. Albinson was grateful for the opportunity of prayer he had with the man at the camp because it encouraged the man.
Albinson compared that to the story of David and Jonathan, when David was on the run for his life and was hiding in caves. Jonathan could not change the circumstances of David’s life, but he did go to him and was present with him in helping find strength through God.
Miller decided to call the project Jonathan House.
Miller submitted the proposal; the IAFR board approved. Miller was excited, but also asked herself: what was next?
Sarah Miller, founder of Jonathan House, tells the behind-the-scenes wonders of how Jonathan House went from thought to action. Miller calls the idea the ‘pie in the sky,’ a little out of reach, but attainable with faith and prayer.
by Tatiana Lee, Guest Author
Sarah Miller sat on a plane the last week of July 2017, heading from Minneapolis, MN to Texas for a work conference. She kept praying, asking God if it was time to look for a house.
Not a house for herself. Miller and her team had raised $20,000 of their $45,000 goal to open Jonathan House, the first Twin Cities metro-area housing program designed specifically for asylum seekers. The team was continuously receiving inquiries about vacancies from social workers, immigration lawyers, or asylum seekers themselves. There was only one problem: the house didn’t exist yet.
During her time in Texas, Miller met up with Ashley Freeman, the founder of the Dallas Asylum Seeker Housing (DASH) Network, to discuss the project and funds for Jonathan House. DASH’s founder asked Miller how much money they had received toward the project launch.
“$20,000,” responded Miller.
Freeman was shocked. “We only had $1,000 to get started! What are you waiting for?”
Miller came home to Minnesota after the conference. A day later, she learned of an additional unexpected $10,000 donation toward Jonathan House. This donation was the green light that let Miller know: it was time.
The Call
Sarah Miller, born in Jamesport, Missouri, grew up constantly moving. After her freshman year in high school she moved from Michigan to Indiana, then two more moves within Indiana during her high school years. The constant moving during high school became a challenge; every year, a new school, new friends. In the midst of this overlapping pace of change, Miller kept another constant close to her heart: her faith in God. She grew up going to church with her parents, took part in youth group and heard constant talk of mission work.
“Church was really pivotal in my faith,” said Miller, who accepted Christ into her heart at age 16.
Her first mission trip was to Haiti when she was 18. The vibrant faith she saw in the Haitian believers stood out to Miller. The believers had few possessions but held so much joy. It impacted Miller to see that ‘stuff’ does not make faith.
In her mid-20’s, Miller went to Germany with a team of 17 people. After Miller came back from Germany, she was wide open to the idea of missions. A group of her friends were discussing a mission trip to Austria they were about to go on with an organization called International Teams. Someone mentioned their group would be working with refugees. Miller had never heard about the issue of forced displacement in the world. When her friends described the plight of refugees, a heaviness weighed in her heart.
“No audible voice,” said Miller. “Just this heaviness that came over my spirit about refugees.”
Definitions of Forced Migration
Forced migration
A broad term used to describe those who have fled their homes unwillingly due to conflict, persecution, or human rights violations. Those categorized in this term include internally displaced people, asylum seekers and refugees, all of whom have been forced to migrate.
Refugee resettlement
The selection by the United Nation High Commission on Refugees (UNHCR) of the most vulnerable refugees who cannot live safely in their birth country nor in neighboring countries for relocation from a refugee camp to permanently resettle in a third safe country.
Resettled refugee
A refugee who is transferred from the country they sought protection in to a third state that has agreed to give them permanent residence status. This process is overseen by the United Nations High Commission on Refugees (UNHCR), in collaboration with the countries where the refugees are resettled.
Asylum seeker
An individual who is seeking permanent refuge in a foreign country, but whose claim for asylum has not yet been evaluated. If the individual’s asylum case is approved, they will receive a refugee status.
Based on: “A Terminology of Forced Displacement” by International Association For Refugees. To learn more, view the Terms of Displacement resource in the IAFR Toolbox.
At this time, it was the late 1980s. Miller had made a three-year commitment to serve as the VBS director at Community Gospel Church in Bremen, Indiana. But during her time at the church, the heaviness in her heart never left her. Finally, in the 1990s, Miller applied to International Teams and within a year found herself in Germany working with asylum seekers.
When an individual flees the danger of war or persecution in her country, she may seek haven and permanent residency in a foreign country; this person is known as an asylum seeker. The asylum seeker lives in the country where she is looking for refuge while she goes through the legal process to receive refugee status.
Miller was in Germany for nine years and met asylum-seeking refugees from all over the world. “Depending on what was happening in the world, then you would see a wave of people from those countries,” said Miller.
Finally, it came to a point where it seemed that God was closing the door on Miller’s time overseas. In April of 2001, she came back to the United States, waiting to see what God had next. Eventually, she moved to Minnesota to work with the International Teams’ Refugee Ministry Director.
In Minnesota she connected with resettled refugees through ESL and literacy training. In the early 2000s more individuals joined International Teams, and they partnered with Arrive Ministries in helping resettle Bhutanese refugees.
According to the United Nations, resettlement is the transfer of the most vulnerable refugees from a hosting country to another State, upon agreement, for permanent resettlement. Compared to asylum seekers, the resettled refugee has been given a stronghold, because when they arrive in the country of permanent resettlement, like the United States, they have the assurance of security.
But what about the asylum seeker that has not yet been granted refuge,Miller wondered. What was their journey like when they came to the United States?She decided to investigate.
My name is Amanda Sixta, and I am a Senior English and Theatre student at the University of Northwestern – St. Paul. I have had the privilege of working with Jonathan House this summer as a Communications and Writing Intern. In this role, I have primarily worked with SEO strategy for Jonathan House; I was also able to work on the Jonathan House Facebook page and website. While this may have looked a bit different during COVID-19, I was uniquely blessed to witness the work that God has been doing during this strange season we find ourselves in.
Micah 6:8 says, “He has told you, O man, what is good; and what does the Lord require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?” I have been meditating on the concept of justice the past few months. The world has been crying out for racial justice in a world so fraught with systemic racism, and we need Jesus-seeking, life-renewing justice to bring relief. This is an integral part of our mission as followers of Christ.
The staff and residents of Jonathan House have shown me that following Christ’s example of justice and compassion is more essential than ever. This summer, I was able to attend two socially-distanced, outdoor Community Meals with the staff and residents of Jonathan House. The way these Community Meals take place look a lot differently with COVID-19, but everyone responded to changes cheerfully, and the relationships I saw there were full of strength and hope.
Because of this, being an intern at Jonathan House has shown me that justice-seeking can be an everyday act, a simple output of living life faithfully in the day-to-day. The mission of Jonathan House demonstrates this very fact: providing stable and supportive housing to asylum seekers and living in community with them is seeking justice in the everyday. Asylum seekers are facing some of the most difficult times in the history of the United States, and they often experience imprisonment, homelessness, and restrictions on employment when they arrive. Seeking justice in this world means having compassion for and listening to asylum seekers and advocating alongside them for their human rights.
I want to share one more verse that I have been pondering lately: “The foreigners residing among you must be treated as native-born. Love them as yourself, for you were foreigners in Egypt. I am the Lord your God.” – Leviticus 19:34
In the United States today, foreigners are not being treated as native-born, as God commands. But we can all be a voice for change and help elevate voices that may have been silenced. When Christ gave His life on the cross, He showed us what love really is: giving your life for your neighbor. Following His example is what He desires for us: to seek justice and to love mercy.
Labor Day has ended. School has started. Summer is starting to close. We hope you’ve had a chance to make meaningful memories with loved ones and be renewed in the sunshine.
Before summer ended, IAFR Jonathan House also had a chance to make good memories. We’re so grateful to Camp Amnicon for hosting the Jonathan House community for camping on Wisconsin’s North Shore!
Here were some of the highlights, in residents’ own words:
It was my first time since I’ve come to the United States to be able to get out of the city and see scenery like that.
I had never been canoeing before. At first I was scared to get into the canoe, but then I did it and really enjoyed it!
I loved getting to eat food that was cooked over the fire.
I enjoyed getting to make new friends. It made us feel special that you [a new staff person] wanted to spend time getting to know us.
Rest and re-creation is a necessary and healing thing for everyone. Time for fun and relaxation contributes to emotional wellbeing and builds hope. Spending days together with no agenda allowed stories that haven’t been previously voiced to be shared and received in compassionate community.
Thank you to Camp Amnicon for providing a place for asylum-seeking refugees to rest and recreate in the beauty of God’s creation as they recover from forced displacement. Jonathan House is already abuzz with plans for next year’s trip!
Shoutout to our featured staff, SJ Holsteen! SJ is our ministry leader here at Jonathan House.
I’m the IAFR Minneapolis-St. Paul Ministry Leader, which means that I’m responsible for guiding and implementing IAFR’s ministry in Minneapolis-St. Paul (including Jonathan House) through strategic planning, partnership, communication, and program and staff development. I also live at Jonathan House Frogtown, our site for women and children, so I’m blessed to share daily life with asylum-seeking individuals who have welcomed me with grace and kindness.
How did you first learn about the plight of asylum-seeking individuals in America?
In 2003, when I was a sophomore in college, I volunteered at a walk-in clinic for Médecins Sans Frontières (MSF-AZG) in Antwerp, Belgium. The clinic mainly served migrant populations, many who were in the process of seeking asylum. I learned about what made someone an asylum seeker as well as the many systemic barriers that they face during that process. That experience was very impactful for me, but I didn’t really think about asylum seekers’ experience in the US for many years.
Then, in 2016, I met Sarah Miller, IAFR’s US Regional Director, who was in the initial stages of launching an asylum-seeker housing ministry in the Twin Cities. My experience from Belgium came flooding back to me, and I suddenly wanted to learn everything I could about what the asylum process was like in the US. I learned a lot through my time with Sarah and IAFR, as well as through personal research and attending gatherings of individuals across the US and Canada who were supporting and walking alongside refugees, such as the Refugee Highway Partnership – North America.
How did you first get involved in Jonathan House?
It really started by meeting with Sarah Miller. When she first shared the vision of establishing safe, stable shelter for asylum seekers in the Twin Cities metro area, I had an immediate sense of affirmation in my spirit that it was something Christ was inviting me into, a path down which He was calling me to follow Him. I was living and working in western Wisconsin at the time, so initially I volunteered as I could in my free time – helping write fundraising campaigns and grants. By God’s grace, the funding came in to launch the first house, and at that point, Sarah invited me to be a volunteer member of the IAFR MSP team, helping welcome the first Jonathan House residents and be part of program development. In 2018, I decided to officially join IAFR as a full-time staff.
What’s something that everyone can do to help the cause of asylum-seeking individuals in the US?
When I first started engaging with Jonathan House, it struck me how little I actually knew about the asylum process in the US. So, I think reading articles, watching movies, or listening to stories about or by individuals who have sought asylum is a good way to give yourself a base knowledge about the many challenges of the asylum journey. I think learning about that journey opens people’s eyes to the injustice and dehumanization of a reality they might not even have been aware existed. When I visit churches to share about Jonathan House, I’m always encouraged how willing and open people are to learn and how ready they are to respond as they’re able with the radical love and welcome we know in Jesus Christ.
Another thing that US citizens can do is keep informed on national policies or laws that impact our asylum-seeking brothers and sisters. Asylum seekers are in a vulnerable position where they do not have access to democratic processes in a country that is making serious decisions that impact their futures. As an enfranchised citizen, you are able to use your voice to advocate for justice for asylum seekers to our government and your elected representatives.
Is there a statistic or fact that has surprised you concerning asylum seeking individuals?
In 2018, the United States received 254,300 new asylum claims, making us the leading recipient of new asylum claims in the world. (UNHCR Global Trends 2018). In the same year, 22,491 refugees came to the US through the federal refugee resettlement program (Migration Policy Institute). Asylum seekers are sometimes referred to as the “hidden refugee population,” and I think this statistic demonstrates that well… most people think of refugees as those who come to the US through resettlement, but each year a far greater number of forcibly-displaced individuals arrive in the US as asylum seekers and do not have access to the system of welcome and support that resettled refugees receive.
What is something asylum-seeking individuals have taught us?
One of my housemates told me once, “If there is life, there is hope.” That was very impactful for me. Because sometimes the past has left us with wounds, sometimes present life feels unbearable, and it can be hard to imagine that things will ever get better or that it is worth moving on. But my sister’s statement encouraged me and reminded me that God does not intend destruction or despair for us; He intends life and hope for us. My asylum-seeking friends have reminded me of this reality again and again, through their stories, their faith, their courage, and their love.
What languages do you speak?
English, French, and Spanish.
Any other line of work you’re in?
Nope.
Hobbies?
I like walking in the woods, reading, and visiting art museums.
A.A. learned to clean the house at the age of five. At age six, her mother taught her to cook bidena (a type of bread) and sauce. “In our country a girl gets married at an early age,” she explains, “so we learn housekeeping as children.”
“I wouldn’t go out and play. I preferred to be in the house cooking.” A.A. smiles at the memory. “My mother and neighbors blessed me when they saw that I worked like that.”
A.A. remembers with particular fondness cooking a special meal for Eid, the day after Arafah, a Muslim celebration to commemorate the Hajj. “It was like a test,” she says, “You had to cook bidena, chicken, sauce, and kineto.” She worked beside her mother to produce a feast that sustained more than her family. “Our neighbors were invited,” she shares, “and the poor would be fed.”
As A.A.’s story reflects, food is more than a basic human need; it expresses culture, community, history, and personality. For someone who is seeking asylum, having consistent access to nutritious and culturally-appropriate food is an important step in recovering both physical and mental health in the midst of forced displacement.
However, many asylum seekers in the US find themselves in a situation where basic survival, including food security, is at risk. Without access to government assistance and barred from legal employment for an extended period of time, asylum-seeking individuals must rely on others to meet their basic needs. This can result in inadequate or inconsistent access to nutritious food, culturally-inappropriate food, or disempowering dynamics between the individual and those she must rely on for assistance. This was the case for A.A.:
“Before I came to Jonathan House, I was living with another family from my ethnic community. They gave me food, but it wasn’t always well prepared, and they would give me a begrudging look when they gave it to me. My social worker offered me food from their center’s pantry, but when I took it home, my hosts told me, ‘We don’t need outside food’ and put it in the trash. After that, I would keep food in my purse and eat it at night after other people had gone to bed.”
The dependency and isolation of her situation became a psychological burden to A.A. “They would tell me, ‘You need to leave our house,’ and I would just cry, because I didn’t have anywhere to go. What life was like before I came to Jonathan House, I felt like it wasn’t much different than what I suffered in my home country. It even got to the point where I wanted to put myself in front of a car.”
Thankfully, A.A. shared her struggles with a friend, and he counseled her to stay hopeful. Soon after, her social worker told her about a new house opening for asylum-seeking women. “She told me, ‘Wait, because maybe they will have a place for you.’” A.A. became the first resident at Jonathan House’s site for women and children after its launch in March 2019.
The day after her arrival, church partners helped welcome her with groceries and a special griddle for cooking bidena, the bread her mother taught her to make as a child. “I cooked and enjoyed my meal in freedom,” she says.
Monthly food assistance provided through the generosity of partners like you now allows A.A. to purchase her own food at a neighborhood ethnic market owned by her friend. “I’m able to go to the store and buy everything that I need. At Jonathan House, I’m able to live, eat, sleep, and go in and out in peace.” A.A. has also put a lot of care into tending a small garden at Jonathan House, where she’s planted peppers and tea plants she knows from her home country.
When asked what she desires for the future, A.A. expresses a hope to be granted asylum and work authorization soon. “Being reunited with my kids must also be part of my journey,” she adds firmly. ”I eat good food now, I sleep good sleep, but my kids are scattered all over the place.” Her children, still in a place of active conflict, face their own serious problems of food insecurity.
As she waits for this longed-for reunification with her children, she continues to bless, love, and welcome others at Jonathan House with her gardening, her cooking, and her friendship. “I don’t have any relatives nearby except God and Jonathan House,” A.A. says, “I am a woman who didn’t have a home or relatives. You made that woman settled, made her safe.”
Thank you for helping our asylum-seeking neighbors access healthy, culturally-appropriate food as they recover from forced displacement. Your support of Jonathan House residents has a life-changing impact.