NYU Gallatin Global Fellowship in Human Rights Blog

2021 Fellows

On Hope and ‘Resilience’

by

A.O. /

As I wrap up my final week at ARI, I am full of gratitude for the experience of my internship this summer, which has inspired me beyond measure. Though it was not without its challenges, my work this summer introduced me to a plethora of passionate activists, scholars, and thinkers who work against all odds. Whether it was colleagues in Lebanon working amid electricity shortages or researchers hitting the ground in Tunisia in the immediate aftermath of a de-facto coup, this summer has introduced me to people who are nothing short of extraordinary. Work continued in tandem with extremely heavy months for the region, between wildfires taking the lives of 65 people in Algeria, protests erupting following the one-year anniversary of the Beirut port explosion in Lebanon and dozens dying in an ongoing economic and fuel crisis, political instability in Tunisia, the continued assault and forced displacement of Palestinians in Beita and elsewhere in occupied Palestine, the continued havoc of the COVID-19 pandemic, and ongoing arrests of journalists and academics throughout the region.

‘Resilience’ is a word too often thrown around in the MENA region in a way that can paint it as one of intrinsic chaos or inevitable suffering. Consistently lauding people’s resilience can shift attention from the causes of their suffering, which are deeply entrenched in tangible, failed systems of governance designed and built to discourage change and held up by global systems of interest far more powerful than individual will. All this considered, my experiences this summer have, inspiringly and unfortunately, shown me tremendous examples of human resilience in the face of corruption, repression, and national and global misgovernance. Scholars and activists in the region and the diaspora consistently come together to try and hold unaccountable actors accountable, mobilize international attention, shine the light on systems engineered to be hidden, and demand better. Being part of one of the organizations at the forefront of this process has been a tremendous experience. Above all, I am grateful to ARI for proving to me the resilience of the desire for justice, and making certain of the fact that no one will be able to bring justice to the people of the MENA region but themselves.

Expression as the Essential Freedom

by

A.O. / 

As I approach the end of my second month with ARI, I have found myself working on a scope so much wider than originally thought. My main work has continued to be with the communications team, creating content to promote upcoming research papers, marketing the new ARI podcast series, updating resource directories, reaching out to partners, etc. At the same time, I have also taken on an assisting role in building the inaugural Environmental Politics program, which seeks to place the environment at the heart of research, policy, and activism in the MENA, looking at how the environment intersects with issues such as social justice, sovereignty over resources, political mobilization, and indigenous rights. A third project I’ve been working on looks at the histories, modes, and methods of archiving social movements in the MENA region. My work this summer has expanded, contributing to attempts to shine the light on social, political, economic, environmental, and racial injustice among others. Still, I find myself coming back to freedom of expression as the touchstone, the fundamental freedom.

Working on projects that address various parts of the MENA region, the significance of freedom of expression is painfully evident. The availability of both literature and spaces for safe dialogue and mobilization in (relatively) democratized countries like Tunisia or Lebanon versus other countries in the region could not be more disparate. Cracking down on freedom of expression, as so many regimes have, engenders an environment of terror where political knowledge production is difficult if not impossible. In my work, this has manifested in several ways: spending hours discussing modes of encryption, creating aliases, conducting interviews and watching scholars self-censor in real time, and consistently engaging in self-censorship myself. The line between caution and paranoia is thin, but news headlines consistently push us to err on the side of caution. Still, meeting and conversing with so many people who continue to do the work in the face of repression has been nothing short of inspiring, and I’m excited to see how the rest of the summer goes.

“Undocumented” as a Quasi-legal Status

by

Allison Argueta /
Esperanza Immigrant Rights Project /
California, USA

I began my internship with Esperanza almost the same way as I ended it, grappling with the autocratic nature of the U.S. immigration system. Within a few weeks of the internship, it became apparent that there is so much convoluted messaging that surrounded immigration policy. 

Kamala Harris’s “Do Not Come Here” Speech after Biden’s many immigration reform promises. The deportation of thousands of Haitian people amidst a political crisis. This summer USCIS (United States Citizenship and Immigration Services) began accepting new first-time DACA applications for the first time since former President Donald Trump ended the DACA program in 2017; in June, however, a federal judge in Texas blocked new applicants from applying for the Obama-era program after declaring it “unconstitutional”. The Supreme Court held Temporary Protection recipients who entered United States unlawfully prior to obtaining TPS were not “admitted” and therefore a barrier to permanent residency.

All of these happenings and more immigration news greatly informed my experience this summer. My morale was tested again and again.

In terms of work, I was more than happy when I heard success stories—though they felt far and few. I became more invested in the people who seemed to not fall under the criteria of certain immigration relief. My role in the Access to Asylum Project involved conversations with my supervisor as we ran through the possible forms of relief available to certain respondents. At times, we reached a dead end, thinking there might not even exist a form of relief for some. Not only were these respondents’ immigration histories long but they were also complicated by issues of mental health, disrupted family ties, and little to no knowledge of immigration legal aid. 

It was not the first time I had experienced this belief of having no relief available to someone but hearing it from immigration professionals was a first and something that has stuck with me. The Pew Research Center disclosed that in 2017, the unauthorized immigrant population has tripled in size from 2000, 23% of the immigration population in the U.S. lives undocumented.

The rhetoric around immigration is usually akin to the phrase of “living in the shadows” or living clandestinely because of the perpetual fear of being whisked away by immigration officials. The “solution” then is to duck your head down, live unnoticed, do not commit a crime. If you do not commit a crime, they cannot take you away. Adopting this way of life translates into a sort of relief, a poor one at that, but one that immigrants perceive as a viable option. 

My time at Esperanza has advanced my study of migration in that its forced me to look to the immigrants that do survive and stay in this country without legal documentation and how they create their own form of relief. 

 

The Power of Community

by

Tabara Sy /
Tostan /
Dakar, Senegal

This has been the most enlightening summer that I’ve experienced yet, because of working in the human rights field in my community. Being that my last four to five weeks of working at Tostan was remote, I was able to reflect back on the different aspects of society like capital, food, shelter and health that contribute to what human rights should look like.

During the second half of my internship, I was focused on collecting the footage from our field trip to Fouta and making visuals via the Tostan website and social media sites to show our audience what that looks like.

Although the main focus during the trip was female genital cutting and early child marriage the videos and write-ups I worked one demonstrate how this is all part of a bigger issue at hand, which is accessibility and availability as Andrew Clapham lays out in Human Rights: A Very Short Introduction. 

Without solid and proper education, it is almost impossible for the vulnerable people like young girls in this case to know their rights and defend themselves when their rights are at threat. In addition, being able to go to school gives them room to be more than housewives and actually see what the world looks like outside of their forced marriages and their husband’s control. 

My last project at Tostan was to create a video about the founder, Molly Melching. This was special to me because this experience allowed me to see and understand the birth of the NGO, the philosophies and inspiration from the source herself.

In some moments I did question how the founder, a white American woman, came to West Africa and birthed an NGO whose goal is to liberate the people to a certain degree. I question this, because this all did stem from the colonialism and damage done by the West in efforts to take control. However, seeing that these Community Empowerment Programs (CEP) are run by natives of the village and giving a platform to those who may not otherwise have it, was special to me. 

My biggest highlight was interacting with these leaders first-hand and experiencing myself the work that goes behind all of it. Of course, there is so much work to be done but the emphasis on community spotlighting with Tostan is what makes all the difference. 

 

There’s Always Room for Growth

by

Matthew Solomon

OutRight Action International

New York, NY

In the final month of my internship, I was given many opportunities to examine closely the ways in which this organization grapples with the issue of being a Western based-NGO that seeks to solve LGBTIQ inequality globally. One interesting element of this dynamic is the organizational hierarchy and how this affects the prioritization of work. It was clear that, in the wake of the Executive Director’s departure, all eyes were on who would replace this role. The organization has yet to make a formal announcement, but it will be interesting to see if they prioritize diversifying their highest office of leadership. In addition to this, I had the opportunity to work with their Africa Program Officer in order to better understand the work that they do on the continent. The officer provided an overview of the astounding work that she, along with local civil society organizations across the continent, do in order to build local understandings and conceptions of so-called conversion therapy, so that they can target and end the practices. This work is all done with an emphasis on allowing the local civil society organizations to lead the efforts, the officer herself is a human rights activist in Kenya who works as an advocate at the High Court.

I also had the opportunity to write a series of blog posts for the organization (in addition to other pieces written). My most recent article was an overview of the legacies that colonialism has left for the progress of LGBTIQ human rights across all former colonies. This piece took a very long time to develop, as editors needed to ensure that the piece was not too “accusations” of former colonizers, which illuminated the tensions that arise between working with former colonizers and for the underrepresented. Nevertheless, I was able to keep most of my original content in, even if I had to censor my tone, which honestly provided good professional development on my part. I am currently developing a collaborative blog post about disability and sexuality at the United Nations with Women Enabled International, and an informative article on gender identities. These are still in development as I am continuing my internship until the end of August. I wanted to have these done by the time I posted this blog, but also wanted to make sure that I gave everyone my final updates! 

 

Looking Back, Moving Forward

by

Madeline Cohodes /
Bellevue Hospital Program for Survivors of Torture /
New York, USA /

As this summer comes to a close, reflecting on the work I have done at PSOT is certainly bitter-sweet. The Program has continued to assist current clients and intake nearly two new clients a week. Between writing asylum applications, providing therapy, coordinating social services, and keeping up all the daily operational tasks, there is never a dull moment at Bellevue. Yet, all the day-to-day accomplishments seem overshadowed by broader national challenges.
 
Nearly every day, the New York Times notifies me of another announcement on immigration policy in the United States, like how President Biden continues to keep Trump-Era policies in place ). Or, Vice President Harris discussing refugees at the Southern Border and how they should stay in their home countries. I wonder if she understands that she isn’t just speaking to Guatemalans, she’s telling refugees from Burkina Faso, Chad, and Guinea who have traveled across continents and oceans, that they should simply go home too.
 
 While PSOT and other centers like ours collect demographic data and work with national-level agencies on policy, sometimes the most basic facts are seemingly ignored. Compiling all of this information only to have it swept aside can be disheartening. Yet, I do hold out hope that continued advocacy efforts will make a difference. This fellowship has introduced me to previous generations of critical human rights theorists, but it has also shown me a new generation of activists, who may have different goals but similar values. Reading my peers’ blog posts and seeing their work in action has reminded me that we all face challenges in our respective fields, but we can also look to each other as a source of motivation to continue uphill battles, this summer and beyond.

 

 

Climate, connections, crisis

by

Mahima Sharda
International Crisis Group
New York City

I cannot express in words how much I will miss the International Crisis Group. I have learned so much over the course of my internship, met incredible people, and had an opportunity to work hard on issues I care about.

One of the highlights of my time at Crisis Group was having the opportunity to organize and host a roundtable discussion on how climate change is going to affect human conflict. An example that was discussed was a case about how farmers experiencing drought and subsequent bad harvests in Sudan, became herders instead and moved southward. This left a string of violent interactions between them and the previous inhabitants and herders in that area who claimed the space was theirs. These types of conflict are only going to increase. I considered the effects of climate change will be stronger in much of the developing world than in those that were the biggest culprits of the emissions and felt disappointed that these longstanding tropes of imbalance only seem to perpetuate.

I also had the chance to have a one-on-one conversation with ICG’s main expert on the conflict in Afghanistan. His analysis of the situation was saddening and heartbreaking, and much of what he predicted has played out in reality over the last few weeks, although not even he could anticipate the speed at which the Taliban were to remerge. I was thankful at ICG to have a chance to speak with such amazingly qualified people so frequently and to hear such esteemed insights even before they hit the press.

Finally, in my last few weeks, my effort was focused on the nonprofit’s annual report, of which I was able to draft entire sections independently. I appreciated my work, as I was given the responsibility to undertake tasks that may commonly be done by those with substantially more experience at other organizations. I summarized much of Crisis Group’s work from the last year and learned about each report or even conflict as I went along.

Crisis Group was the perfect place to advance my thinking about human rights, find a platform to gain expertise and the requisites that are there. I am so thankful to everyone at the organization for taking a chance on me, and to the Gallatin Global Fellowship for making it financially feasible, and for teaching me the academic underpinnings that would allow me to make the most of this opportunity.

Trauma-informed Care Within a Trauma-inducing System

by

Allison Argueta
Esperanza Immigrant Rights Project
California, USA 

A month into working with Esperanza, I’ve gotten the opportunity to interact with respondents one-on-one due to my role in the Access to Asylum Project. I review the first four pages that is required of every respondent before they are placed with a volunteer. These pages are basic information about the respondent, their spouse, if they have children, their immigration status, etc. 

Sometimes, some of them fill out more than the four pages. Beyond the four are details surrounding the reason why they’ve left their country. Some are fleeing gang violence, some have received death threats, some have been assaulted, some have lost family members, and some have a long history of persecution. But not all of them will obtain asylum. 

But all of these respondents do share these experiences with us extensively. They do relive whatever has happened to them. Some have forgotten, cannot recall a specific detail we are asking of them. And some of them remember too much, for the sake of their application, to try meet the threshold of a “well-founded fear of prosecution” without knowing the result.

Many folks, even before they get into contact with Esperanza, have been in detention centers for long periods of time, have been jobless or work too much, have moved around within the U.S. due to court decisions. Their trauma compounds. 

I’ve spoken with people who have mental health issues, some who cannot read or write, some who have sought out asylum in other countries before arriving in the United States. I think of all of these different factors as I review the applications of these respondents. They are their own advocates in a time where they are being forced to relive their trauma in order to stay in a country to avoid more persecution. 

Keeping this in mind while reviewing asylum forms or speaking with respondents has been quite difficult and emotionally taxing. There are always deadlines to meet, documents to be filled or re-filled, and more questions to be asked.

Limbo and its Shadows

by

Allison Argueta
Esperanza Immigrant Rights Project
California, USA

The first day at Esperanza consisted of me learning much more about my role with the organization this summer. I will be working with one of the Community Education programs which helps unrepresented immigrants. While the organization itself cannot guarantee legal representation to every respondent, volunteers like myself, are trained to provide aid in filling out forms or informing them of their options. My supervisor Evelyn took much care in telling me that many times we are the first people these people encounter within the legal field, and sometimes even the only legal aid they’ll receive. Whether it’s a change of address or filling an asylum application, we ensure that respondents understand what is being asked of them every step of the way.

The first week was also about learning about the reality of immigration law. There just aren’t enough lawyers to represent every immigrant, many are even subject to legal limbo even if they do find legal help. There are even accredited representatives which are non-attorneys that have proven they can provide legal services to immigrants. Even then, immigrants have a difficult time maneuvering the immigration system, not just because of the language barrier, but because of the ever-changing nature of immigration law. 

Because of the sheer amount of immigrants needing legal services, pro bono and low bono are very popular options. Pro se representation (self representation) has become prevalent when such options are not available to them. As such that is where Community Education programs come in.

However, as volunteers, we are also limited in our capacity. I was given a document that detailed the differences between legal orientation and legal representation, the former being where I function in because I am not an attorney. As such, I cannot tell someone what I think they must do or what’s best for their situation.

Evelyn also gave me the task of reaching out to respondents for Access to Asylum Project, which is an online initiative to provide asylum seekers with the information and support they need while applying for asylum, as well as filling out the form. It is also a collaboration with Central American Resource Center (CARECEN) and OneJustice. It is not just volunteers but there’s also supervising attorneys ensuring that volunteers are filling out the form correctly or even figuring out the best way to speak with a respondent, keeping in mind they have to relay their traumatic experiences. I have not yet been assigned to a respondent, but have been reading extensively about asylum and what and who merit asylum.

While I have been doing my best to reach out to respondents. There are just so many people to reach out to, but I can’t help but wonder how many more people need assistance.

Reflections

by

Diya Moushahwar / 
Mada al Carmel Arab Center for Social Research /
Haifa, Palestine / 

Having worked at Mada al Carmel Arabic Center for Social Research for the past several weeks remotely, it is rewarding to reflect on assignments I completed for the organization. Specifically, I supported the expansion of Mada’s network of collaborative relationships for research and funding. Additionally, translation work was especially meaningful: for part of the summer, I visited my parents, and my dad, Ghassan, and my cousin, Ramez, helped me with Arabic to English translation for different important documents for Mada. It was also an opportunity for me to connect with my family about recent events and the history of the region.

In the spring, I had  hoped to work with grad students and assist them with their research. I met two researchers briefly but I believe I did not end up stepping into that role for multiple reasons, some of which include the difficulty of communicating remotely across time zones, the fact that my Arabic is not strong enough to communicate solely, in conversation and in academia, and this summer was especially tumultuous in Palestine. In my final week, I will ask my supervisor how much he thinks the forced displacement of Palestinians, the war on Gaza, and the resistance efforts impacted Mada’s work and community this summer.

Ultimately, I hope to maintain a relationship with Mada. I would love to work or volunteer with Mada, especially if possible in person. There is also a U.S.-based non-profit, Friends of Mada, that I encourage anyone interested in their work to support. International solidarity is essential.

I anticipated being prepared to work remotely for Mada – something I unfortunately had no choice in due to Israel’s travel restrictions. Since March 2020 I have worked remotely: tutoring college students (including one who moved home to Taiwan immediately after CUNY closed campuses) I completed administrative tasks, and I taught fifth, sixth, and seventh graders after school classes. 

At my other jobs, I had worked with my colleagues and students before in person for one to four years. This was my first time working for Mada and I was completely new to human rights work. Being in person would have been a completely different experience – building a stronger connection locally – and part of me mourns that loss as well as the collective experience of barriers to connection globally due to the pandemic. I’m grateful to have had the opportunity to support such invaluable work that contributes to a free Palestine.