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A second look at “Unsettled Journeys”

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Amy Davis, Baltimore Sun

When education reporter Liz Bowie enthusiastically described her special project on refugee students at Patterson High School last winter, I was intrigued because it was a subject I knew little about. The goal was to examine the complex challenges faced by refugee students and the staff in a high school where one-third of the students are immigrants. It took Liz many weeks of observation and interviews to determine which students might best illuminate the varied issues that beset these teens at different stages of assimilation. We had worked together before, so I trusted her judgment as we felt our way along, bouncing observations off each other. As the photographer, I faced a familiar dilemma. Photographers want to be brought in early on a project, yet we don’t want to waste time documenting situations that will never appear in the final story.

See the full series | Part 1: Torn between two worlds

Part 2: Facing hardship, finding resilience | Part 3: The newcomer

We will interview and take photographs of Monique, a refugee from the Central Republic of Africa Bayron Rodriguez Reyes, left, and Franklin Aguilar, right, joke around briefly during a statistics class taught by Sylvester Onyemeziem, last spring at Patterson High School. (Amy Davis/Baltimore Sun) Reema Alfaheed, left, a Palestinian Iraqi, gets a thumbs up from hall monitor Gregory Burley at Patterson High School last May, when she returned to school after an extended absence. Reema is very expressive, and her ebullience helps her to connect with others, even when the going is rough. (Amy Davis/Baltimore Sun) Narmin Al Eethawi, who fled Iraq with her family, follows a lesson intently during an English as a Second Language class taught by her favorite teacher, Tom Smith. Her concentration in classes made it easier to make candid photos. (Amy Davis/Baltimore Sun) Yamen Khalil, 17, a Syrian refugee, looks out the back door of the house he shares with his father  in southwest Baltimore. He spends a lot of time inside, doing homework, playing video games and talking to his mother, who is still in Turkey. (Amy Davis/Baltimore Sun) Yamen Khalil, 17, surveys his street in southwest Baltimore during a break from doing homework. While his father is at work, housekeeper Precy (CQ) Stedding, partially visible behind the front door,  helps out with meals and house cleaning. Yamen, who is from Syria, lives with his father, but his mother and two brothers have been unable to come to the United States. (Amy Davis/Baltimore Sun) Yamen Khalil, 17, at home in southwest Baltimore, working on his English 1 homework last spring. He is a conscientious student, and hopes to pursue computer science in college.  (Amy Davis/Baltimore Sun) Last spring Patterson High School students Sammuel (CQ) Liberato, left, and Franklin Aguilar, right, enjoy a light moment in statistics class, taught by Sylvester Onyemeziem. (Amy Davis/Baltimore Sun) Stevenson University Admissions Counselor Courtney Cox, left, chats with Franklin Aguilar and Patterson teacher Kelly O'Brien last spring during a campus tour by Patterson High School Latino students. During the discussion Franklin, who is from El Salvador, realized that he could not apply to the private college because he doesn't have a Social Security card. (Amy Davis/Baltimore Sun) Franklin Aguilar gazes longingly at the well-quipped athletic facilities at Stevenson University during a campus tour by Patterson Latino students last spring. As an undocumented resident, he discovered that he could not apply to the private college, even if the tuition was not an obstacle.  (Amy Davis/Baltimore Sun) Franklin Aguilar, left, and Exel Estrada, right, survey the modern campus of Stevenson University during a tour with other Latino students from  Patterson High School. Seeing a suburban campus was a new experience for Exel, from Guatemala, and Franklin, from El Salvador.  (Amy Davis/Baltimore Sun) Exel Estrada, right, and his younger sister Lizbeth Estrada walk in their Highlandtown neighborhood. Their mother and other relatives paid smugglers to bring them to the United States from Guatemala, but at different times. (Amy Davis/Baltimore Sun) Teacher Jacqueline Randell (CQ) works with  Exel Estrada last spring at Patterson High School in English I class. He came to Baltimore from Guatemala in 2013. (Amy Davis/Baltimore Sun) Exel Estrada, asks a question during English I class last spring. Exel loves to read, but struggled to balance school work with jobs after school last year. (Amy Davis/Baltimore Sun) Exel Estrada, left, and his younger sister Lizbeth Estrada, on the bus to Patterson High School on a May morning. Their mother left them in Guatemala when they were young to come to the United States to find work. They were reunited with her after becoming teenagers, but the long separation from their mother has left a rift.  (Amy Davis/Baltimore Sun) Monique Ngomba, starting her second year at Patterson High School, confidently boards a bus with other students to return home after school. When she arrived in Baltimore from the Central African Republic in late 2014, she got lost on a public bus, and wasn't reunited with her family until many hours later.  (Amy Davis/Baltimore Sun) Monique Ngomba concentrates on vocabulary classwork in the English as a Second Language class taught by Jill Warzer last school year. She was often exhausted trying to absorb so much unfamiliar information, delivered in a language she didn't understand. (Amy Davis/Baltimore Sun) Monique Ngomba, 16, at home last April in the northeast Baltimore apartment she shared  with her parents and two brothers. The Ngomba family is from the Central African Republic, and lived in refugee camps in Chad for 11 years. Monique is the only student at Patterson who speaks Sango. (Amy Davis/Baltimore Sun) Franklin Aguilar, who came from El Salvador in 2012, worked after school during his senior year at Haagen-Dazs in Harbor East. He now has a full-time job in a grocery store, but hopes to attend college. (Amy Davis/Baltimore Sun) Franklin Aguilar, Exel Estrada and other Patterson High School Latino students toured the suburban Owings Mills campus of Stevenson University last May. The campus presented an unfamiliar experience to the city students accustomed to their aging school and gritty neighborhoods.  (Amy Davis/Baltimore Sun) Narmin Al Eethawi, 19, an Iraqi refugee, was lost in thought as she traveled by bus last spring to visit a friend. Narmin's  family fled Baghdad, Iraq, when she was 14. (Amy Davis/Baltimore Sun) At Reema Alfaheed's 17th birthday party in May, held at a local motel, Reema, left, dances with her close friend Narmin Al Eethawi, right, as family and friends watch. Reema, a Palestinian Iraqi, and Narmin, 19, an Iraqi, became close friends at Patterson High School. (Amy Davis/Baltimore Sun) Patterson High School teacher Tom Smith, left, speaks with Narmin Al Eethawi, holding an Arabic-English dictionary, in his English as a Second Language class. Smith was a good listener and the two developed a close rapport.  (Amy Davis/Baltimore Sun) Franklin Aguilar, at the rowhouse he shares with his uncle and other relatives, was getting ready for school last spring during his senior year at Patterson High School. He came to Baltimore from El Salvador.  (Amy Davis/Baltimore Sun) Narmin Al Eethawi, 19, right, comforts her friend Reema Alfaheed, then 16, at Johns Hopkins Hospital, where Reema was being monitored after experiencing seizures. Their common experiences as Iraqi refugees helped them to form a bond that made them seem like sisters. (Amy Davis/Baltimore Sun) Yamen Khalil, now 18, played "The Call of Duty" on XBox at home last spring after completing his homework. He and his father Omar live in southwest Baltimore. Yamen keeps in touch with his mother on a daily basis, by phone or computer. She is currently living in Turkey with his younger brother.(Amy Davis/Baltimore Sun) Kibra Buluts, left, a refugee from Ethiopia, and Yamen Khalil, from Syria, worked diligently in Tammy Mayer's English as a Second Language class last May. (Amy Davis/Baltimore Sun) Monique Ngomba, 16, at home in the barren northeast Baltimore apartment she  shared last spring with her father, Edouard Hondjenan, left, and her mother, Simone Kemte, right, and her two brothers. Her father was a farmer in their homeland, the Central African Republic. The family was welcoming to reporter Liz Bowie and me, but even with the help of an interpreter, communication was difficult.  (Amy Davis/Baltimore Sun) Franklin Aguilar, who came to Baltimore from El Salvador in 2012, plays soccer during lunch period last spring in his senior year at Patterson High School. After graduation, he continues to play soccer as a stress reliever while working full-time and trying to figure out how to achieve his dream of attending college.  (Amy Davis/Baltimore Sun) From left, Michael Candelario, Yamen Khalil, and Wilfredo Medrano Turcios follow the lesson in Dave Hopp's biology class.  (Amy Davis/Baltimore Sun)

My greatest trepidation was whether I would be able to connect with students without a shared language. The teachers, who welcomed us into their classrooms without exception, offered key insights that helped us overcome the language barrier. Margot Harris, the dedicated English as a Second Language administrator, was understanding of our needs as journalists and helped us make the necessary connections. I’ve never encountered a principal as open to the press as Vance Benton. He sets the positive tone that permeates the school. As Liz and I became frequent visitors, both students and staff relaxed around us. The determination of the students to learn despite never-ending obstacles was even evident at the end of the school year when they had to cope with stifling heat in the worn, non-air-conditioned building.

It helped that our editors believed in the story, and were willing to give us the time we needed. Deputy Photo Editor Jeff Bill, handling the assignment desk, cleared me for some key events that cropped up unexpectedly, enabling me to dash to the school on short notice. As time went on, I discovered that my pitiful lack of foreign language skills offered an unexpected advantage. I could hover close to the students during unguarded moments, and make very candid photographs. The students were unconcerned about my proximity, because they knew I had no idea what they were talking about!

Our compassionate and gifted editor, Diana Sugg, ran interference for us frequently, and joined the interpreters who accompanied us at meetings with the parents of the students Liz chose to profile. We wanted to be sure that the parents could give fully informed consent for their children to appear in The Sun. Given the harrowing experiences and ongoing concerns for relatives left behind, there were many issues to negotiate. For instance, I wanted to photograph a Syrian student, Yamen Khalil, communicating with his mother in Turkey by computer. Yamen’s father nixed this idea, for fear of reprisals back home. Meeting the parents early on proved fortuitous in another situation. I discovered that Reema Alfaheed, a Palestinian Iraqi student who was suffering from seizures, had been taken to Johns Hopkins Hospital for observation. It would have been understandable if the family did not want me in the hospital room, but because we had met previously, her family permitted me to stay and make pictures.

Our respect and empathy for the students and staff grew continually, as we learned of new crises and past traumas endured by the teenagers. Their resilience was a quality I tried to capture. Liz could have told compelling stories about any of the refugee students, but our three main subjects, Monique Ngomba, Narmin Al Eethawi, and Exel Estrada exemplified the narrative of the newcomers’ experience. Even with the extraordinary space this series was given in print and online, inevitably good photos and reporting got left out. Our Darkroom photo blog enables us to share “outtakes” that we did not have space to include in the three-part series. Two students included here, Franklin Aguilar and Yamen Khalil, appeared only peripherally in the stories.

Yamen Khalil, 18, a Syrian refugee in the 11th grade, is in his third year at Patterson. He lives with his father in southwest Baltimore, but complicated circumstances have separated them from Yamen’s mother and two brothers who stayed behind in Turkey. Recently Yamen’s older brother moved to Germany, and Yamen is hopeful that his mother and his disabled younger brother will be able to join him there. The pain of separation is evident when Yamen and his father describe their situation. Yamen talks daily with his mother by phone, and they communicate via computer on weekends. Yamen seems to realize that the best way he can help his family is by excelling at school. A serious student, Yamen has his eye on UMBC and a career in computer science.

Franklin Aguilar, an articulate 21-year old, came from El Salvador in 2012. Before he graduated from Patterson last spring, Franklin and other Latino students toured Stevenson University on a class trip. Franklin eagerly took in every detail of the modern campus, so luxurious compared to the well-worn halls of Patterson. But for Franklin and the other undocumented students, attending this private university is not only financially daunting, but impossible without a social security card. Franklin’s dream of a college education led to some conflict with his parents, but he is still exploring ways to afford higher education. Meanwhile, he has a fulltime job working in a grocery store in Highlandtown. Without many options, Franklin admits “there’s still a possibility that I can’t make it to college.” He added, “Right now I’m trying to see my future and not put myself down. You always want to be positive, keep your head up, and try to look for the best for yourself and everyone around you.”

After 28 years at The Sun, collaborating with our multimedia team on this series was a revelation. Shooting video proved to be an effective tool for engaging viewers and helping them get to know Patterson’s students. I am especially grateful for the terrific video editing by the talented Jon Sham, and the dedication of the entire multimedia team and our editors in packaging all the elements of the series in a compelling manner. Designer Emma Patti Harris’ concept of using our video interviews to create an audio mosaic melding two-dozen languages is incredible. Content Editor Chris Assaf lent an astute eye to the photo editing process, and advocated for a strong visual presentation.

It is gratifying to know that the series has already had an impact, with donations flowing into the school’s English as a Second Language program. This week Liz heard from a former Peace Corps volunteer who served in the Central African Republic. He and his wife speak Sango, and they want to help Monique and her family as they adjust to their new life.

Our hope for the Unsettled Journeys series is that people will have more compassion as they learn more about the struggles and trauma that every refugee experiences. We need to find better ways to educate and integrate these young people who arrive with so much courage and potential. As journalists, we kept reminding ourselves to keep our professional distance. Now that the series is over, a final disclosure is in order. For two Sun journalists, and the inspiring Patterson students and teachers who shined under the Sun’s spotlight, there have been happy hugs exchanged all around.


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