Featured

My Dad Is A “Buddhist Dictator”?

12279188_10153648095531011_703417067293205352_n
As a child, author Rosalyn Park was also told to “go back” to where she came from. 

When President Trump recently tweeted that Rep. Ilhan Omar (my representative) and three other congresswomen of color should “go back” to where they came from, empowering others to parrot him, I felt that hate personally. Those are words that I, and so many others, hear because we’re “different.” It reminded me of the racism my dad faced when he first came here and reinforced that, even though discrimination is illegal, it’s up to each of us to respect and make that a reality.

My dad immigrated to the United States more than 50 years ago from South Korea. He came for the “American Dream.” Carrying a suitcase containing his beloved judo uniform, he hoped for a good education and a new life – not unlike many of the immigrants who come to the U.S. today. He arrived with little resources: just $20 and an alarm clock in his pocket. My dad was fortunate that the university kindly let him stay in a basement office of the Dairy Science Building. He didn’t have any blankets, so he used his judo uniform as a blanket. For six months, all he could afford to eat was peanut butter sandwiches.

Dad Pic 2

 

A fellow student approached my dad with a request. He was going to serve in Vietnam and wanted to hire my dad for judo lessons. As poor as my dad was, he refused payment. My dad told him, “This country welcomed me in, and I want to give back for what the United States has done for me.” He agreed to teach the classes for free and open it up to interested students.

 

 

Three days before my dad’s first judo class, the local news ran a story about a woman with a judo black belt who fended off three attackers. The story received a lot of attention. When my dad arrived at the gym, he found 200 students waiting to learn judo. He didn’t turn any of them away. Instead, he divided them into two classes a night and taught six nights a week on top of his full-time student schedule. He was so tired some nights, he would get nosebleeds or come close to fainting. Still, he refused to take any money and continued teaching.

The local paper found out about his judo classes and ran a story about my dad. But it wasn’t to recognize him for volunteering his time and skills. Instead, they called him the “Buddhist Dictator” and accused him of using judo to convert students to Buddhism (my dad is Catholic, by the way). It was classic racism – uninformed, prejudiced, and intolerant of those who are “different.”

Dad judo

My dad’s experience happened a long time ago in the 1960s. But racism does not end with time. When I was in elementary school in the 1980s, other kids told me to “go back to where I came from.” This confused and crushed me. I was born in Minnesota. The only language I spoke was English. This was my country. Where was I supposed to go? What really hurt was how I was treated differently from our classmate, “Christine.” Like me, “Christine’s” parents immigrated to the U.S, but from Western Europe. She never got called names like “chink” or was told to “go home.” The only difference I could see between us was that she had brown hair and blue eyes. I am Asian.

My dad earned his Ph.D., worked 27 years at the same company, and became a U.S. citizen. But racism doesn’t go away with degrees, a job, or citizenship. And my own personal experience tells me racism doesn’t go away with years or generations. Racism lives because people are fearful or ignorant about who or what is different from them. And to me and others who are “different,” that translates into hatred.

Time does not defeat racism. People do. It’s 2019. And it’s time for each of us to stand up against racism and stand up for human rights.

To learn more about The Advocates for Human Rights’ work or to volunteer, visit: http://www.theadvocatesforhumanrights.org/volunteer

By Rosalyn Park, Director of The Advocates’ Women’s Human Rights Program.

 

Using the UN to Stand Up Against Racism in the U.S.

 

The Advocates for Human Rights has Special Consultative status with the United Nations, allowing us to bring matters of concern to the attention of the UN human rights mechanisms. Volunteer Veronica Clark presented The Advocates for Human Rights’ statement on racism in the United States at the United Nations Human Rights Council in Geneva, Switzerland on March 20, 2017.

Mr. Vice President:

The Advocates for Human Rights is deeply concerned about the rise in hate crimes and incidents of bias targeting racial, ethnic, and religious minorities in the United State. Hate crimes are recognized and prosecuted in the U.S.under federal and state laws. Yet 5,850 criminal incidents and 6,885 related bias offenses were reported in 2015. Fifty-nine percent of victims were targeted because of a race/ethnicity/ancestry bias.

Further, policies and practices at the federal, state, and local levels continue to disproportionately impact racial and ethnic minorities. Racial and national origin bias pervades the U.S. criminal justice system, including widespread use of racial profiling and stark racial disparities in arrests, convictions, and sentencing.

The Advocates for Human Rights encourages Member States, including the U.S., to take concrete action to:

  • Adopt at local, state and national levels comprehensive legislation prohibiting racial profiling;
  • Collect and publish statistics about police stops, searches, and abuse, to monitor trends regarding racial profiling and treatment of minorities by law enforcement;
  • Establish independent oversight bodies within police agencies, with real authority to conduct impartial investigations of all complaints of human rights violations;
  • Provide adequate resources to train law enforcement officials;
  • Assess the disproportionate impact of mandatory minimum sentences on racial and ethnic minorities; and
  • Create a national commission to examine police tactics nationwide, including the use of excessive force, militarization of local police forces and policing of protests.

Thank you.

Related post Hate groups, incidents proliferating in U.S., The Advocates tells UN Human Rights Council

Welcome Home Blog Series: Karen refugees in Minnesota have a critical ally

madeline-at-roseville-karen-community

Pictured: The Advocates for Human Rights’ Madeline Lohman & Karen Organization of Minnesota’s Hta Thi Yu Moom facilitating a meeting to strengthen community between Karen diaspora members and other residents of Roseville, Minnesota.

 

Minnesota has seen an influx of Karen refugees from Burma over the past decade, the majority settling in St. Paul. The transition to life here can be bumpy as they struggle to learn English, find jobs, navigate government bureaucracy, and sometimes deal with family upheavals.

But the new residents have a critical ally: the Karen Organization of Minnesota (KOM), the nation’s first Karen-led nonprofit. “You can come here any time as long as the office is open,” says Eh Tah Khu, KOM’s co-executive director, “and we’ll make sure you get the help you need.”

The Karen (pronounced Ka-REN) are an ethnic minority group from the mountainous border regions of Burma and Thailand who have been fighting for independence for many years. Subject to ethnic cleansing, forced labor, killings, and other human rights abuses by the former military regime of Burma (also known as Myanmar), many fled to refugee camps in Thailand before resettlement in the United States. (Burma moved to a civilian-led government last year.)

KOM says about 12,000 Karen now live in Minnesota, some drawn from other states because of the high quality of refugee services here. Minnesotans should be aware that many Karen have “been through trauma,” Eh Tah Khu says, and “have never been able to raise their voice for any reason.”

Eh Tah Khu arrived here from Thailand in 2010 with his wife and son and joined KOM as youth development coordinator in 2011. He became co-executive director last year, sharing duties with Alexis Walstad.

KOM — with money from state and federal grants, foundations, and the Greater Twin Cities United Way — offers a wide range of services to Karen and other Burmese refugees. They include job training, English classes, youth programs, weaving, public transit orientation, and community health services.

The organization evolved from the Karen Community of Minnesota, a volunteer group that Karen leaders started in 2003 in St. Paul. They set up KOM as a separate organization with 501(c)(3) status in 2008. Based in Roseville, it now has 25 paid staff members, including two at an office in Marshall; three AmeriCorps members, and about 80 volunteers. It serves more than 1,500 clients a year.

But KOM is at a turning point. Some of its government grants pay specifically for services to new arrivals. But the United States has stopped resettling refugees from Burma, so Eh Tah Khu worries those grants won’t be renewed as his group focuses more on long-term services.

He is frank about other challenges facing the organization. Because KOM is so accessible, he says, “we are overloaded with walk-in clients.” They need help with everything from paying speeding tickets to enrolling in MNsure to filing divorce paperwork.

More mental-health services are badly needed, he added, noting that there are no Karen-speaking therapists, psychiatrists, or psychologists in the area. The community is also grappling with problems like drug use by young people, parents feeling they have lost authority over their children, domestic violence, and divorce (which is rare in Burma).

But Eh Tah Khu says KOM’s strength lies in the partnerships it has forged with a long list of service providers and educational, government, religious, legal and other groups over the years (you can see them here). “We know that without community support,” he says, “we can’t do our work here.”

Karen Organization of Minnesota
Website: www.mnkaren.org
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/mnkarenorg/
Volunteer opportunities: KOM needs short-term and long-term volunteers to help with activities including youth mentoring, interpretation/translation, data entry, public transit training, and driving. Apply here or contact Rebekah Jacobson at rjacobson@mnkaren.org.
Learn more: KOM holds presentations on Karen culture and history on Friday afternoons every other month. The next session takes place on June 16.

By Suzanne Perry, volunteer with The Advocates for Human Rights. This is the first of the “Welcome Home” blog series featuring articles about groups that represent diaspora communities in Minnesota.

We are advocates. We can do this.

img_7356

The first days of the Trump administration have been bewildering. “Alternative facts” have been presented with a straight face. The media has been told to shut up and listen. Muslims have been turned away at our airports. Refugees’ travel plans have been revoked. People, including very young children, have been detained for hours, handcuffed, stripped-searched, and treated like criminals. Children have been separated from their mothers. People have been coerced into signing away their visas and then not allowed entry into the United States.

The list goes on.

For many, these actions make us feel like the United States is in freefall.

But we have a clear road map for the days ahead. The human rights principles which emerged in 1948 set out a simple benchmark: dignity. Every single person in the United States – no matter who we are, that we believe, how we look, or where we were born – has a right to live with basic human dignity.

The Universal Declaration of Human Rights provides non-negotiable standards which we, as human beings, have a right to expect and to demand. Freedom of speech. Freedom of religion. Freedom of torture. Freedom from arbitrary detention. The right to seek and enjoy asylum from persecution. Freedom from violence.

The human rights framework does more than provide a list of rights we can check off as they are violated. It provides an approach to organizing and action.

Protect those who are marginalized. The 1st Amendment of the U.S. Constitution, with its unequivocal protection of peaceful dissent and protection against the tyranny of the majority, is but one of the ways in which the power of majority rule is balanced.

Ensure those affected by decisions can participate in making them. The right to vote is at the heart of American democracy, yet millions of people – primarily American Indians and African Americans – have had this fundamental right stripped from them.

Address the root causes of injustice. Eradicate the conditions which perpetuate human rights violations.

Hold people accountable for human rights violations and abuses. Tyranny thrives in a climate of impunity. A strong judiciary and independent media are hallmarks of free societies.

Last week I spoke with a new volunteer who’d just retired from a successful corporate career. She shared that she took part in the Women’s March – the first time in her life she’s ever turned out for such an action. She’s ready to act.

The human rights framework gives us clarity of demands and of action. We are advocates.

We can do this.

By Michele Garnett McKenzie, Deputy Director of The Advocates for Human Rights

Featured photo: Jenna Schulman (left), The Advocates for Human Rights’ youth blogger, and two of her friends at the Women’s March on Washington.

 

Marching for a bridge forward

erin

Living halfway across the country from one another, Erin Banovetz Lake and Nick Banovetz are like many siblings and families: The geographical distance that divides them presents its challenges – like their children not seeing each other as much as they’d like or not always celebrating holidays together – but they find ways to stay connected. Participating in the Women’s March on January 21 was something they shared, even if from cities afar. Here are a few reflections from them.

From Erin Banovetz Lake, Washington, D.C. (pictured above on right)
Prior to the march, I was disheartened by the status of human rights and equality held by some of the members of this great country. I am a white, middle class, 30-something female. I consider myself very fortunate in life. My upbringing was safe, secure, and predictable. I was well taken care of, both physically and emotionally.

I have spent my career working with and endeavoring to help troubled and marginalized youth in one of Virginia’s poorest counties. I see first hand some of the hardships others have to endure in life. This exposure has increased my level of understanding about challenges people face as well as my cultural awareness and sensitivity.

Recently, it has become evident that many, especially elected officials, do not possess this same awareness – the awareness of how important human rights and equality are to the survival of a community, of a country. Is it a willful ignorance? A lack of emotional intelligence and exposure to different cultures and populations? Or a lack of sensitivity and an overwhelming need to further oneself over the good of the community? It is with this awareness that I chose to participate in the January 21 March on Washington, hoping to demonstrate how important these issues are for the people of our nation.

Stepping onto the streets of our capital immediately gave me a sense of hope. Actually, it began when I picked up my mom and two of her best friends from the Richmond, Virginia airport the night before the march. The excitement we had in the anticipation of standing together with others who shared these values was evident from the beginning.

This hope continued as we boarded the bus that would take us to DC. While a commercial express bus, it was a “March on Washington bus” nonetheless because it was crammed with riders donning pink pussy-cat hats and discussing social issues and human rights with one another.

The march was peaceful. Not one arrest. Everybody we encountered throughout the day was kind, thoughtful, and had a light in their eyes. There was a strong sense of camaraderie. Stepping off the bus onto the street that day was energetic, like stepping into a pink pussy-cat hat/poster-carrying human rights parade. The number of people there was mind blowing, awe inspiring, and heart warming. The feeling in the air was one of a grass roots effort filled with hope and an excitement to finally be heard.

And heard we were. Along with the hundreds of other sister marches across the nation and globe, we raised our voices. The collective energy and voice showed us that we are stronger together. I live in a conservative part of Virginia, and just the sheer fact of being surrounded by people who value human rights and equality lifted me up. Knowing that there are so many others out there who share similar values, thoughts, hopes, and fears empowers me. (My experience is mirrored by millions of other marchers across the world. Is it strange how the overarching tone and feeling at these marches was energetic and a demand for acceptance? Independently, the hundreds of marches on each of the seven continents conveyed peace, acceptance, and a demand to be heard.)

The people I stood beside were there not solely to promote women’s issues. Rather, they promoted human rights for all. Those in attendance were of all ages, skin color, cultural background, religion, and from all walks of life. But in the message, we all shared a common belief in the necessity of human rights and equality.

Soon, my children will both be in school and I will return to the workforce. I already had plans to use my career as a conduit to channel my values. My march experience will serve as a catalyst to my vision of helping to create a stronger, healthier community for all. Thank you to the organizers of the march. It is through your hard work, determination, and vision that people of our world have stood together to make a statement. If we maintain this momentum, the people of this beautiful nation and around the globe will reap the benefits.

From Nick Banovetz, St. Paul, Minnesota (pictured below, right)
nickOn Election Day 2016, I left the polls telling my daughter – a 1.5-year-old strapped to my back  – “Thanks for helping Dada vote.” It was the first time I had cast a ballot with a child of my own. I relished participating in this part of our democracy; bringing my daughter with me – like my parents did with me – was memorable.

For many, the 2016 election has disrupted our communities and our own senses of self. The elevated and prolonged discourse surrounding systemic racism, income disparities, sexism, and immigration during the 2016 presidential campaign and election will hopefully result in the long term in a more prosperous, inclusive nation. The adage “Democracy is a not a spectator sport” is a rallying cry and a call to unite, regardless of one’s political leanings.

To stretch our lungs and lead by example, my dad, my wife, and I – with our daughter strapped in her stroller – participated in the Women’s March in St. Paul. Our experience was like thousands, millions, of others – a rush of adrenaline over the sheer mass of the crowds, a healing experience from the positive and inclusive vibes permeating these open, crowded spaces.

I felt part of a community again. And as a newish dad, I’ve been reflecting. I keep coming back to my grandmothers, partly because of the obvious (their gender, their generation), but also because of subtle lessons they taught me.

Several years ago, on my Grandma Ilona’s birthday, my wife solicited words of wisdom from her. Without any hesitation, Ilona said resolutely, “All people are people.” These words are simple, yet relevant. I think of them often. Ilona was a life-long learner, never short of an opinion. She cherished her time in college, which I believe fueled her confidence. When someone was full of bologna, Ilona would throw her hand out, slap the air, shake her head, and say, “Oh, honestly!” I’ve envisioned her doing such dozens of times as of late. There’s something to be said about keeping it real, being authentic, and offering a polite reality check when others aren’t.

My other grandma, Vi, read the St. Paul Pioneer Press every a.m. – from poring over the front page to completing the crossword puzzle. Those who knew her saw a witty – even sassy – woman who found some of her own independence by working outside of the home and belonging to her social service club. I visited her often. Over breakfast we’d study the newspaper together. She taught me to be informed. And Grandma Vi was empowered because she was well informed. (Vi, in jest, would often remark on First Lady Hillary Clinton, saying with hope in her voice, “Who does she think she is, President?” One time she looked up and said something to the effect of “Imagine that”; the exact words escape me, but it was her disbelief and wonder over a female leading our nation that I remember.)

My hope for our nation is that people from all sides can engage with one another outside of social media platforms, choose to arrive at opinions that are both diverse and well-informed. We each need to appreciate that all people are people.

By Erin Lake Banovetz, Dillwyn, Virginia; and Nick Banovetz, Mendota Heights, Minnesota. They are the daughter and son of The Advocates’ Communications Director, Sue Banovetz.

“I can march.”

img_7356

 

This was my first march. I really did not know what to expect. I spent the evening before the march sitting on the basement floor in our house with my sister and our friends painting posters. When we finally got to the march – which was no easy feat because the DC Metro was so overwhelmed with numbers of people, we had to walk – the sheer number of people prevented us from getting close enough to hear any of the speeches. We could not even see the Jumbotrons. I had to wait until I got home to learn what some of the speakers, including people like Gloria Steinem, had to say.

What I did hear and see, however, were the voices and actions of people engaged in peaceful protest. Even in the midst of the crush, people were friendly and civil. The energy was palpable. From the looks of it, people were at this march, born at the grass roots, for many different reasons. Some were there to protest the new administration. Others were there to ensure that their voices were heard on a variety of themes, including reproductive rights, gender equality, immigration, racial equality, and climate change. Homemade signs were everywhere.  Frequent chants included:  “My body/my choice!”;  “This is what democracy looks like!”; and “Women’s rights are human rights!”

What I saw on the ground was inspiring, and what I saw on my social media feeds inspired me, too. My Facebook and Instagram pages had hundreds of pictures of my “sisters” in different parts of the country marching in their hometowns. Even if we might have been at the marches for different reasons  and in different locations, we were connected and empowered.

I know that the march has been controversial at some levels – even in my high school.  Some question how the march can be successful – as there was not a singular focus. However, I did see a common focus: the need for respect.

Last week in my 10th grade European history course, we focused on the French Revolution.  One of the things I learned about was the “march” of October 1789 when more than 7,000 women marched from Paris to Versailles protesting the scarcity and high prices of bread.  They had a goal of bringing King  Louis XVI back to Paris so that he would be closer and arguably more responsive to the people. They succeeded! The crowd, numbering more than 60,000 people, escorted the royal family back to Paris. Some say that this was a major turning point in the French Revolution.

I don’t know if Saturday was a major turning point. But it was an important reminder of the power people have when they work together. It was also a reminder of the powerful voice women have and the importance of exercising it. When the marchers return to their homes, I hope they remember that the march is not a substitute for long- term action. It’s just the beginning; they need to take action in their local communities. Whether that action is calling their legislators or running for office themselves, it is important.

I am excited to see where this takes us – and I am grateful to the women who organized this march for exposing me to the possibilities of collective action.

By The Advocates for Human Rights’ youth blogger Jenna Schulman (pictured on left in photo above), a 10th grade student in Washington, D.C.