cuban refugee

7

For everyone talking about Cuba after Fidel Castro’s long overdue death.

For every white American news outlet and reporter (Buzzfeed, Michael Moore and even Anthony Bourdain) who wanted to paint Cuba as a Communist utopia with free school, free healthcare and therefore trivialize the countless hardships faced by real Cubans who can’t leave the island.

I’ve heard stories of my fiance’s grandfather whose legs rotted after being tortured for months in a pit of raw sewage for being a loan shark, my own grandfather who was a prisoner of war and was a Cuban refugee in the 80s who brought his two little kids and wife to America on a boat full of violent prisoners and the mentally ill, Castro’s own advisor of 17 years who was thrown into a pit of cockroaches for asking to resign (because he knew he’d be killed when his term was over). Castro and Che Guevara weren’t socialist pioneers, they were serial killers. Che isn’t a public figure who’s okay to wear on a fucking t-shirt because communism is a good idea to you, but this is the reason why so many Cuban-Americans are terrified of socialism and there isn’t a single American who should blame them.

Fidel was a twisted, almost king-like dictator who didn’t give a shit about his people, and his death doesn’t mean much when his legacy is still in place and our country is so much worse than it was just twenty years ago. Don’t say shit if you don’t know, if you haven’t been there. Please.

anonymous asked:

"White domestic terrorists have killed more people this week...". No supporting evidence. No links to substantiate claims. Doesn't clarify location. So, let's counter with: 9/11 death toll was 2977. Right off the bat, you're wrong. Internationally, the number of deaths caused by Islamic terrorist attacks against civilian innocents between 2014-2015 is over 61,000. I mean, if you're going to be a dipshit and reach, might as well reach for the stars, amirite? Good job spouting nonsense! Fuckwit.

1. The 9/11 attacks were not caused by refugees. Right off the bat, you’re wrong. 

2. I linked to a source here.

“[In the last four decades] only three Americans have been killed in attacks committed by refugees—all by Cuban refugees in the 1970s.” [Source]

3. This isn’t talking international. This is talking about domestic.     

Fidel Castro: Dictator NOT a Revolutionary Leader

As a Cuban refugee I rejoice that the symbol is dead. But I still know that the ideology is very much alive. 

Fidel Castro has terrorized us for years. And now the day has come, he is dead. But nothing has changed my fellow Cubans who have remained will continue to endure the regime and swallow the renewed hope that has come with these news. 

And here I sit, watching people (Read: Non Cubans) mourn the death of a “monster” as stated by his own sister, Cuban exile Juana Castro. Castro was not a good man.

He ripped families apart. He took our liberties. He silenced our people. Do not let the media fool you into thinking he was a President or cared for anything but the success of his regime. 

Here is just a small list of what Castro has done:

Mass executions of counter-revolutionaries by Castro’s firing squads. An estimated 30,000 deaths solely from this since he came to power. 

He shut down all independent newspapers upon his rise to power. 

He held over 15,000 political prisoners. 

He created re-education camps for LGBT to correct ‘deviations’. Effeminate males were heavily prosecuted without trial or charge. as well as forced incarceration for anyone that tested HIV positive. 

One July morning in 1994 a group of 72 Cubans boarded a state-owned tugboat (named 13 de Marzo) with the intent to navigate it to freedom. Within minutes the vessel was under attack by other state-owned tugboats. By the time the incident was over 41 Cubans were dead. 10 of them were children.

Denied the right to vote against Castro and his party in ‘free elections’

Castro formed Committees for the Defense of the Revolution(CDR) which operate on almost every block in Cuba. Spying on neighbors and reporting back to the regime. Negative reports can land one in jail.

School children ‘pray’ to Castro. 

Ordered doctors to inject mercury into patients who criticized the poor quality of Cuba’s free medical services

All media is heavily censored and the spreading of “unauthorized news” a criminal offence, with internet access heavily limited by cost and restrictions. (To give you an idea my family members in Cuba could be sent to jail if they were caught corresponding with me via e-mail)

Prior to January 13, 2013, Cuban citizens could not travel abroad, leave or return to Cuba without first obtaining official permission along with applying for a government issued passport and travel visa, which was often denied.

Following the Cuban Revolution all activities of the catholic church were severely limited and in 1961 all property held by religious organizations was confiscated without compensation. 

Castro’s regime violates almost every single article of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights. 

His regime has led to an estimated 3 million Cuban’s (more than 25% of the current population) fleeing the country due to persecution since taking power. 

But enough of this.

Today I am grateful for the strength and bravery of my mimi and papi who refused to conform to living under a communist and totalitarian nation. I am thankful that though fear clung to their bones they left everything they had in the hopes of freedom, in the hopes of a better life for me.  Today, I am thankful to hear my mom’s voice break with the strengths of her sobs. Today, I am thankful to see videos of my fellow Cubans embracing each other, crying, waving our flag, dancing, and singing (Our beautiful La Bayamesa).

There is still much work to be done. But today, I leave you with the words of Willy Chirino:

“Hoy que mi pueblo vive ilusionado yo me siento inspirado y un son estoy cantando anunciándole a todos mis hermanos que nuestro día ya viene llegando…”

#vivacubalibre

President Obama ended the “wet foot, dry foot” policy, which allowed Cuban refugees to stay in America if they reached US soil.
This has been the policy for the past 50 years. Now, they can be sent back to Cuba.

For all of the flak Trump gets for his immigration policy which he hasn’t even carried out yet, Obama gets a pass when he actually does carry out policies. He’s deported more immigrants than any other president in history.

I’d really like it if the leftist blogs would maybe take the time to realize fidel castro was terrible and theres a fuckton of cuban refugees who are online and could potentially see them posting cutesy pictures of a literal dictator. Please? My dad was from cuba, okay this is like seeing people worshipping stalin when ur granddad had to flee soviet russia. Have we all agreed tankies are terrible yet?

Hey guys!!!! As promised here’s my re-introduction post. For context, it’s been a long time since I’ve been 100% active on my studyblr, and I thought that maybe I’d need to be re-introduced. So here we go!

about me

💕 my name is madeline, but everyone calls me mady!

💕 i’m 18 going on 19 and i’m a libra from miami, florida!!

💕 i’m second generation cuban-american + the granddaughter of cuban refugees. 

💕 i’m the eldest of all my cousins and will be the first in my family to be graduating from college!!

💕 i’m queer (bi/pansexual) and also have major depressive disorder and generalized anxiety- and work really hard to help that every single day. i study as hard as i can even though i find it very very difficult.

💕 i’m a college freshman at broward college, which is a junior college in south florida- but i hope to soon transfer to flagler college which is my dream school!!!

💕 i’m majoring in history (american is my specialty. i love the founding fathers!!) and i’m probably going to double major in archaeology too. i hope to become a PhD and be a historian for a bit before getting involved in politics.

💕 english and spanish are my first languages but i’m also learning french and hope to then learn some more languages afterwards.

Keep reading

5

The CIA’s plan to commit terror attacks in America — Operation Northwoods

In the early 1960’s Fidel Castro was becoming one pain in the butt embarrassment for the Central Intelligence Agency.  Cuba represented an immense failure of US foreign policy, as the once American dominated government fell to Castro’s regime in 1959.  In the upcoming years, the CIA would try numerous times to assassinate, discredit, and remove Castro from power.  This culminated with the Bay of Pigs Invasion in 1961 where the CIA attempted a failed military invasion using Cuban counterrevolutionaries, and the Cuban Missile Crises, a showdown between the US and Soviet Union over Soviet nuclear missiles stationed in Cuba.

In 1962 the CIA proposed Operation Northwoods as a drastic but conclusive solution to the Cuban situation.  Operation Northwoods called for a series of terrorist attacks on American military bases and civilian targets, which were to be conducted by CIA personnel disguised as Cuban agents.  With supposed evidence in hand, the US Government would then have full justification for military operations against Cuba.  Operation Northwoods was to begin with an assault on Guantanamo Bay by “Cuban Forces”.  Then a series of terrorist attacks would be conducted by CIA agents in cities such as Miami and Washington.

 Among the plans was a scheme to hijack an airplane then simulate a crash with an empty airplane that would give the appearance of “killing all passengers”.  In Miami CIA agents were to assassinate a number of Cuban refugees, leaving evidence that the murders were conducted by Cuban assassins. It was also suggested that a boatload of Cuban refugees be destroyed, with evidence planted to blame Pro-Castro saboteurs.  The plan even called for the mass shooting of civilians on the street by “Cuban military forces” as well as the bombings of American ships and buildings. There was even a plan to blow up an American ship, creating a “USS Maine” propaganda moment to galvanize Americans against Cuba.  Finally, Operation Northwoods called for a fleet of American captured MiG fighter jets to fly over American airspace, harassing civil aviation and perhaps even shooting down an American airliner bound for the Caribbean.  

The plan was drafted by the Joint Chiefs of Staff, signed by Chairman Gen. Lyman Lemnitzer, and forwarded to President John F. Kennedy by Robert Mcnamara.  Horrified by such a corrupt and unethical plan, JFK refused to approve of it.  Fortunately, Operation Northwoods never happened.  Documents of Operation Northwoods were declassified in 1997.  A copy of a Defense Department memo on Northwoods can be found in the link below.

 http://www2.gwu.edu/~nsarchiv/news/20010430/northwoods.pdf

Right before I left for college, I was running my high school. Feel it. I knew where to park, I knew where to get the best chicken-cutlet sandwich, I knew which custodians had pot. People knew me. They liked me. I was an athlete and a good friend. I felt pretty, I felt funny, I felt sane. Then I got to college in Maryland. My school was voted number one … for the hottest freshman girls in Playboy that year. And not because of me. All of a sudden, being witty and charismatic didn’t mean shit. Day after day, I could feel the confidence drain from my body. I was not what these guys wanted. They wanted thinner, blonder, dumber … My sassy one-liners were only working on the cafeteria employees, who I was visiting all too frequently, tacking on not the Freshman 15, but the 30, in record-breaking time, which led my mother to make comments over winter break like, “You look healthy!” I was getting no male attention, and I’m embarrassed to say, it was killing me.
But one guy paid me some attention — Matt. Matt was six feet tall, he looked like a grown-up von Trapp child, and he was five years older than me. What?! An older boy, paying attention to me? I must be okay. Uff. I made him laugh in our bio lab, and I could tell a couple times that we had a vibe. He was a super senior, which is a sexy way of saying “should have graduated, but needed an extra year.” He barely spoke, which was perfect for all the projecting I had planned for him. We grew up in the same town, and getting attention from him felt like success. When I would see him on campus, my heart would race, and I would smile as he passed. I’d look in the mirror and see all the blood rise to my face. I’d spend time analyzing the interaction, and planning my outfit for the next time I saw him. I wanted him to call. He never called. But then finally, he called.
It was 8 a.m., my dorm room phone rang. “Amy, wassup? It’s Matt. Come over.” Holy shit! This is it, I thought. He woke up thinking about me! He realized we’re meant to start a life together! Let’s just stop all this pretending that we weren’t free just to love one another! I wondered, would we raise our kids in the town we both grew up in, or has he taken a liking to Baltimore? I don’t care. I’ll settle wherever he’s most comfortable. Will he want to raise our kids Jewish? Who cares? I shaved my legs in the sink, I splashed some water under my armpits, and my randomly assigned Albanian roommate stared at me from under her sheets as I rushed around our shitty dorm room. I ran right over to his place, ready for our day together. What would we do? It’s still early enough, maybe we’re going fishing? Or maybe his mom’s in town, and he wanted me to join them for breakfast. Knock-knock. Is he going to carry me over the threshold? I bet he’s fixing his hair and telling his mom, “Be cool, this may be the one!” I’ll be very sweet with her, but assert myself, so she doesn’t think she’s completely in charge of all the holiday dinners we’re going to plan together. I’ll call her by her first name, too, so she knows she can’t mess with me. “Rita! I’m going to make the green bean casserole this year, and that’s that!” Knock-knock. Ring ring. Where is he?
Finally, the door opens. It’s Matt, but not really. He’s there, but not really. His face is kind of distorted, and his eyes seem like he can’t focus on me. He’s actually trying to see me from the side, like a shark. “Hey!” he yells, too loud, and gives me a hug, too hard. He’s fucking wasted. I’m not the first person he thought of that morning. I’m the last person he called that night. I wonder, how many girls didn’t answer before he got to fat freshman me? Am I in his phone as Schumer? Probably. But I was here, and I wanted to be held and touched and felt desired, despite everything. I wanted to be with him. I imagined us on campus together, holding hands, proving, “Look! I am lovable! And this cool older guy likes me!” I can’t be the troll doll I’m afraid I’ve become.
He put on some music, and we got in bed. As that sexy maneuver where the guy pushes you on the bed, you know, like, “I’m taking the wheel on this one. Now I’m going to blow your mind,” which is almost never followed up with anything. He smelled like skunk microwaved with cheeseburgers, which I planned on finding and eating in the bathroom, as soon as he was asleep. We tried kissing. His 9 a.m. shadow was scratching my face — I knew it’d look like I had fruit-punch mouth for days after. His alcohol-swollen mouth, I felt like I was being tongued by someone who had just been given Novocain. I felt faceless, and nameless. I was just a warm body, and I was freezing cold. His fingers poked inside me like they had lost their keys in there. And then came the sex, and I use that word very loosely. His penis was so soft, it felt like one of those de-stress things that slips from your hand? So he was pushing aggressively into my thigh, and during this failed penetration, I looked around the room to try and distract myself or God willing, disassociate. What’s on the wall? A Scarface poster, of course. Mandatory. Anything else? That’s it? This Irish-Catholic son of bank teller who played JV soccer and did Mathletes feels the most connection with a Cuban refugee drug lord. The place looked like it was decorated by an overeager set designer who took the note “temporary and without substance” too far.
He started to go down on me. That’s ambitious, I think. Is it still considered getting head if the guy falls asleep every three seconds and moves his tongue like an elderly person eating their last oatmeal? Chelsea? Is it? Yes? It is. I want to scream for myself, “Get out of here, Amy. You are beautiful, you are smart, and worth more than this. This is not where you stay.” I feel like Fantine and Cosette and every fucking sad French woman from Les Miz. And whoever that cat was who sang “Memories,” what was that musical? Suze Orman just goes, “Cats.” The only wetness between my legs is from his drool, because he’s now sleeping and snoring into me. I sigh, I hear my own heartbreak, I fight back my own tears, and then I notice a change in the music. Is this just a bagpipe solo? I shake him awake. “Matt, what is this? The Braveheart soundtrack? Can you put something else on, please?” He wakes up grumpily, falls to the floor, and crawls. I look at his exposed butt crack, a dark, unkempt abyss that I was falling into. I felt paralyzed. His asshole is a canyon, and this was my 127 Hours. I might chew my arm off.
I could feel I was losing myself to this girl in this bed. He stood up and put a new CD on. “Darling, you send me, I know you send me, honest, you do …” I’m thinking, “What is this?” He crawled back into bed, and tried to mash at this point his third ball into my vagina. On his fourth thrust, he gave up and fell asleep on my breast. His head was heavy and his breath was so sour, I had to turn my head so my eyes didn’t water. But they were watering anyway, because of this song. Who is this? This is so beautiful. I’ve never heard these songs before. They’re gutting me. The score attached to our morning couldn’t have been more off. His sloppy, tentative lovemaking was certainly not in the spirit of William Wallace. And now the most beautiful love songs I’ve ever heard play out as this man-boy laid in my arms, after diminishing me to a last-minute booty call. I listened to the songs and I cried. I was looking down at myself from the ceiling fan. What happened to this girl? How did she get here? I felt the fan on my skin and I went, “Oh, wait! I am this girl! We got to get me out of here!” I became my own fairy godmother. I waited until the last perfect note floated out, and escaped from under him and out the door. I never heard from Matt again, but felt only grateful for being introduced to my new self, a girl who got her value from within her. I’m also grateful to Matt for introducing me to my love Sam Cooke, who I’m still with today.
Now I feel strong and beautiful. I walk proudly down the streets of Manhattan. The people I love, love me. I make the funniest people in the country laugh, and they are my friends. I am a great friend and an even better sister. I have fought my way through harsh criticism and death threats for speaking my mind. I am alive, like the strong women in this room before me. I am a hot-blooded fighter and I am fearless. But I did morning radio last week, and a DJ asked, “Have you gained weight? You seem chunkier to me. You should strike while the iron is hot, Amy.” And it’s all gone. In an instant, it’s all stripped away. I wrote an article for Men’s Health and was so proud, until I saw instead of using my photo, they used one of a 16-year-old model wearing a clown nose, to show that she’s hilarious. But those are my words. What about who I am, and what I have to say? I can be reduced to that lost college freshman so quickly sometimes, I want to quit. Not performing, but being a woman altogether. I want to throw my hands in the air, after reading a mean Twitter comment, and say, “All right! You got it. You figured me out. I’m not pretty. I’m not thin. I do not deserve to use my voice. I’ll start wearing a burqa and start waiting tables at a pancake house. All my self-worth is based on what you can see.” But then I think, Fuck that. I am not laying in that freshman year bed anymore ever again. I am a woman with thoughts and questions and shit to say. I say if I’m beautiful. I say if I’m strong. You will not determine my story — I will. I will speak and share and fuck and love and I will never apologize to the frightened millions who resent that they never had it in them to do it. I stand here and I am amazing, for you. Not because of you. I am not who I sleep with. I am not my weight. I am not my mother. I am myself. And I am all of you, and I thank you.
—  Amy Schumer

anonymous asked:

so I haven't been keeping up with FH content these past few months, so like, who is Dan? And Bones? p much, who is anyone new not in the main FH group (that is in content)?

ive been waiting for this question for my whole life. funheist, number one spot for b-team/bungalow content.

dan schneider (@filmDstryr, not the nickelodeon guy) is the dm for twits and crits. he shows up in streams sometimes (he was in extra life!) and that one comments show when someone thought he was an ex-army man. dont be fooled by the screaming. he is very nice.

adam “bones” brouillard (@real_rtbones, actual skeleton) was that guy that they bullied into throwing away his beanie in the comments show. he also got makeup put on him by a blindfolded lawrence during extra life. can also be seen in drunk wario ware and talking stalkings.

don casanova (@thenasacova, real life mobster) is an editor who replaces lawrence in open haus. he worked with elyse for a while back at gametrailers and he’s hilarious despite never really being on camera. bullied someone for saying the editing was bad. killed trump very expensively.

jacob fullerton (@_JacobFullerton, professional baby boy) for some reason tells stories for every answer in open haus. doesnt know how to use a mortar and pestle. he’s a naked sometimes.

jon smith (@jonsmiff, yes thats his real name) hasnt really been in much but i trust him. had a really funny reel to get hired. mustache.

omar de armas (@omarcito, cuban refugee) isnt really new but he is also there. dan’s dog olive and his dog bender are friends. the omar tracker is gone but never forgotten. clustertruck expert.

Pictured above: the Phillie Phanatic, weapon of the police state, performs a search on a Cuban refugee, despite the fact that the man produced his green card and seemed to be pitching a Major League Baseball game. Local woman asked about the incident called the Phanatic “a disrespectful creature” and shook her head. “Mr. Met would never do such a thing.”

9

Around Sapzurro and Capurganá, Colombia

Plastic chairs tied to carts pulled by donkeys, functioning as taxis. Music competing from multiple speakers in a mess of sound on Saturdays. Boats unloading a hundred Cuban refugees in the middle of the night. Colombia’s endemic and critically endangered Cotton-top tamarins jumping from tree to tree in unspoiled jungles. Villagers suspicious of strangers, still recovering from FARC but thriving in the cocaine trade– these are some of the unique characteristics of Colombia’s fisherman villages on the border of Panama.

anonymous asked:

Proof Amy schumer is a rapist?

This if from a speech she gave-

“Finally, the door opens. It’s Matt, but not really. He’s there, but not really. His face is kind of distorted, and his eyes seem like he can’t focus on me. He’s actually trying to see me from the side, like a shark. “Hey!” he yells, too loud, and gives me a hug, too hard. He’s fucking wasted. I’m not the first person he thought of that morning. I’m the last person he called that night. I wonder, how many girls didn’t answer before he got to fat freshman me? Am I in his phone as Schumer? Probably. But I was here, and I wanted to be held and touched and felt desired, despite everything. I wanted to be with him. I imagined us on campus together, holding hands, proving, “Look! I am lovable! And this cool older guy likes me!” I can’t be the troll doll I’m afraid I’ve become.

He put on some music, and we got in bed. As that sexy maneuver where the guy pushes you on the bed, you know, like, “I’m taking the wheel on this one. Now I’m going to blow your mind,” which is almost never followed up with anything. He smelled like skunk microwaved with cheeseburgers, which I planned on finding and eating in the bathroom, as soon as he was asleep. We tried kissing. His 9 a.m. shadow was scratching my face — I knew it’d look like I had fruit-punch mouth for days after. His alcohol-swollen mouth, I felt like I was being tongued by someone who had just been given Novocain. I felt faceless, and nameless. I was just a warm body, and I was freezing cold. His fingers poked inside me like they had lost their keys in there. And then came the sex, and I use that word very loosely. His penis was so soft, it felt like one of those de-stress things that slips from your hand? So he was pushing aggressively into my thigh, and during this failed penetration, I looked around the room to try and distract myself or God willing, disassociate. What’s on the wall? A Scarface poster, of course. Mandatory. Anything else? That’s it? This Irish-Catholic son of bank teller who played JV soccer and did Mathletes feels the most connection with a Cuban refugee drug lord. The place looked like it was decorated by an overeager set designer who took the note “temporary and without substance” too far.

He started to go down on me. That’s ambitious, I think. Is it still considered getting head if the guy falls asleep every three seconds and moves his tongue like an elderly person eating their last oatmeal? Chelsea? Is it? Yes? It is. I want to scream for myself, “Get out of here, Amy. You are beautiful, you are smart, and worth more than this. This is not where you stay.” I feel like Fantine and Cosette and every fucking sad French woman from Les Miz. And whoever that cat was who sang “Memories,” what was that musical? Suze Orman just goes, “Cats.” The only wetness between my legs is from his drool, because he’s now sleeping and snoring into me.“

So the guy was clearly ridiculously drunk to the point that he literally was passing out. If you were to swap to the genders on this story do you think a feminist would call it rape? I do.

Operation Northwoods

In the early 1960s, American military leaders drafted plans to create public support for a war against Cuba, to oust Fidel Castro from power. The plans included committing acts of terrorism in U.S. cities, killing innocent people and U.S. soldiers, blowing up a U.S. ship, assassinating Cuban émigrés, sinking boats of Cuban refugees, and hijacking planes. The plans were all approved by the Joint Chiefs of Staff, but were reportedly rejected by the civilian leadership, then kept secret for nearly 40 years. I’m honestly scared the heads of the military didn’t mind killing innocent civilians. Well, American civilians.

anonymous asked:

Wow scrutinize on my choice of vocabulary why don't you. I'm not saying to not let refugees in im just saying think of the economy, infrastructure, housing ect.. How is our already fragile economy going to support hundreds of thousands of refugees?

Heyyy, look who’s back?  The Anon from a couple of weeks ago that tried to claim that refugees=terrorists.  You remember, the one that we schooled?

Well, apparently when he sent us a message that said absolutely fuck-all about the economy, infastructure, housing, etc. we should have known he was referring to concerns he had about how refugees would impact the economy, infastructure, housing, etc.!  How rude of us to not understand this!  SO! SORRY!

OK then, let’s get down to it: “how is our already fragile economy going to support hundreds of thousands of refugees?”  Your exact words, Anon.

Well, we don’t know what country you’re in, Anon, but we’re going to take a wild guess that it’s one of the largest, strongest economies in the world.  You know - the U.S., Germany, the U.K., France, Canada, Australia, etc. Obviously, the strongest, largest, economies in the world = the ones best-equipped to absorb the costs of taking in refugees.  Which is only fair, given the extent that their economies & their companies have profited from colonialism and resource extraction that destabilized most of the countries refugees are fleeing from in the first place.  

Still, there are limits to everything and how many refugees can these countries take in before the “economic burden” is simply too much?  The problem with this question is the a priori assumption that refugees = economic burden.

A study of the economic impact of 270,000 Somali refugees in just one province in Kenya (which = about 10% of the total population in that province) found that 25% of that province’s per-capita income came as a direct result of these refugees, who bought $3 million worth of livestock & milk alone & whose money created jobs for 1200 local people.  Overall, that one province benefited to the tune of $14 million by hosting those refugees.  10% of the population generating 25% of the per-capita income.  That`s what refugees did to the economy there. 

Or look at Miami - a city that suddenly had to take in 80,000 Cuban refugees in 1980.  Practically overnight, that city’s population jumped 5%.  80,000 Cubans arrived with only as much as they could carry.  Economic disaster?  Actually, economists who looked at this found that there was no negative impact on the economy @ all!  Unemployment stayed the same, wages didn’t go down - nothing that you’d think might happen.  Because those 80,000 needed goods & services to start their lives.  Refugees & immigrants buy more than other people, because they need to set up their homes, etc.  That = a bump for the economy!

Australia has discovered that refugees create a economic net benefit as soon as a year after arrival, depending on their human capital.
 
Sweden is happily discovering that 37% of the Syrian refugees it is taking in already have university degrees.  What does it mean to a country to wake up and suddenly have 11,000 university-educated people with global connections and serious motivations to start working or developing businesses?  Economically, it means very, very good things, Anon.

If you are right and the wealthiest countries in the world would be devastated economically by taking in refugees then Germany - which took in more refugees than any EU country and certainly more than Australia, Canada, or the U.S. combined - should be doing really poorly economically right now.  Yet here it is in 2016, still the strongest economy in the EU and the 4th-strongest in the world.  It`s almost as if Germany is counting on refugees to save them from a real economic problem - workers retiring/aging out of the workforce faster than they can be replaced.

Maybe these facts and words are difficult for you to understand, Anon. Try watching this, then.








MUSIC MAN (2006)
Raúl Esparza

“Raúl Esparza was in a beautiful rut- but a rut nonetheless. He’d achieved success onstage playing louche, badass types like the Emcee in Cabaret, Riff Raff in The Rocky Horror Picture Show, and furious AIDS activist Ned Weeks in The Normal Heart. “I am so not like these characters, who don’t care if people like them,” he says. Not that he didn’t have- as the son of Cuban refugees- “a lot of suppressed anger,” but that was only part of the story. “Is this what I wanted to be?” he asked as he turned 35 this year.

Instead of going Hollywood or kabbalah, Esparza decided to get back to basics with theatrical purist John Doyle. The British director, whose radically simplified Sweeney Todd was a surprise Broadway hit last season, is giving the same actors-as-orchestra treatment to Company, another Stephen Sondheim revival. Esparza stars as Bobby, a commitmentphobic 35-year-old (Esparza’s model: Warren Beatty) studying his friends’ defective marriages for reasons to settle down- or excuses not to.

Playing Bobby requires a glorious voice and, well, a lot of suppressed anger. For Esparza, it’s also a chance to return to a simpler idea of theater. “There’s something very raw about playing an instrument,” he says; he pounds the piano while singing the climactic ballad “Being Alive.” “At first my hands were sweating so bad they fell off the keys.” Now he’s a happy convert to Doyle’s minimalism- and if that becomes another rut, we hope it’s one he’s stuck in for a while. -J.G.”

3

On a bright spring afternoon this May, Tom Charles drove to Newark International Airport to pick up a family of Syrian refugees. Charles is an attorney and a bank consultant, devoted to data and details, but he had scant information on the family that would become part of his life for the next year.

He was also sure the Syrian family knew nothing about his team from Nassau Presbyterian Church, who would drive them from the airport to a donated house in Princeton, N.J.

“They know nothing about us. Nothing at all,” said Charles, “They are arriving at the airport and they’ve only been told that someone will greet you.”

Across the country, private organizations, faith-based groups and individuals quietly have been working to ease the plight of Syrian refugees. More than 11,000 have arrived in the U.S. this year, fulfilling a pledge by the Obama administration. That figure far exceeds the number of Syrian refugees accepted during the previous four years of the Syrian war, and the White House is calling for a big bump in the overall number of refugees next year.

But the “surge” this year has overwhelmed official resettlement agencies, with the majority of Syrians landing in the past five months. These private groups are volunteers stepping in to offer services and resettlement support.

Nassau Presbyterian Church has a long history of supporting refugees, including Cubans, Vietnamese, Bosnians and Iraqis, said senior pastor David Davis.

“We’ve been in the refugee business for 50 years — it’s been a family every five years,” he said. “For us, it is acting and living out our faith.”

The church sponsorship provides financial and practical support, including housing, school enrollment, language training and help in finding employment. In practice, it’s more like an adoption — an intense relationship to integrate the outsiders.

The Hopes (Security) And Fears (Bears) Of Syrian Refugees In New Jersey

Photos: Jake Naughton for NPR

anonymous asked:

how would you deal with potential ISIS agents hiding amongst all the refugees?

The same way we would deal with potential ISIS agents already living in western countries; by ensuring that no one is ostracized, marginalized, or isolated from the broader community because of discrimination based on their religion, ethnicity, or country of origin.  

Closing the borders, barring refugees, and treating Muslims as anything less than full-fledged citizens with the same opportunities as everyone else is exactly how ISIS wants the west to behave!  Doing so only aids ISIS recruitment efforts and its twisted narrative of its so-called caliphate being the only real haven for Muslims in a world completely hostile to Muslims.

If people weren’t asking how to deal with potential Fenians hiding among all the Irish refugees fleeing the potato famine in the 1840s; or how to deal with potential Nazis hiding among all the Jewish refugees in the late 1930s; or how to deal with potential Viet Cong hiding among all the Vietnamese refugees in the late 1970s/early 1980s; or how to deal with potential communist guerrillas hiding among the 80,000 Cuban refugees to Miami in 1980; or how to deal with potential “warlords” in the early 1990s hiding among all the refugees fleeing Somalia; then it seems a bit unreasonable to be overly-concerned with ISIS agents hiding among refugees fleeing Iraq/Syria.  Especially when ISIS has been working so diligently to bring foreign fighters into Iraq/Syria to fight on their behalf.