Unsettled by resettlement

The Baltimore Sun

HAGERSTOWN -- Mukhabbat Gilmanova picked plastic honey bottles off the assembly line and placed them, still warm, in a cardboard box. Gilmanova, a Russian Turkish refugee with a shy smile, might seem an anomaly in this Western Maryland city that's not exactly known for its international population.

But another Meskhetian Turk works beside Gilmanova at Parker Plastics. Other packers on the shift hail from Haiti and the Ivory Coast. They are refugees, too.

In the past several years, more than 200 people, largely from countries in Africa and the former Soviet Union, have quietly landed in Hagerstown, population roughly 37,000.

Those responsible for the resettlements say the city is an appealing destination because rents are reasonable and jobs are available for these displaced people who fled their native countries to escape political or religious persecution.

"I really like Hagerstown. I really like the U.S.," said Gilmanova, 21, who lives with her husband and in-laws and is studying to be a nurse. "I like packing ... I like paycheck ... I like everything."

But her presence and the arrival of other newcomers have roiled this small city, which until recently hasn't had much experience with people who have limited English skills or worship as Muslims or find the sheer volume of goods at Wal-Mart overwhelming.

Surprise about the refugees' existence has given way to frustration and anger about a resettlement program that some residents say was expanded without proper community input. The outcry became so loud that the Virginia Council of Churches, which placed the refugees, decided last week to close its local office.

In the meantime, the refugees continue to live here - and could eventually bring other family members - and feelings on all sides are still very heated.

"The little town of Hagerstown will not have any great impact on the world's problems, but it will continue to be recognized as a place where people of different backgrounds, races and religions are not openly welcomed," George H. Miller, former coordinator at the Hagerstown Refugee Resettlement Office, wrote in a letter to the local newspaper.

"Malarkey!" said City Council member Penny May Nigh, who led the charge against more resettlements. "It's not a matter of being unfriendly, it was the concern. We are struggling. ... I think we are too stretched as a community."

The council of churches and its predecessor were for years bringing a few refugees to Western Maryland, but the number coming to Washington County began to grow about three years ago.

The program drew attention last year after a misunderstanding between a police officer and a sick Burundian woman. The woman could not speak English, and fearing a communicable disease, responders donned biohazard suits, shut down the street and set up a decontamination tent - only to discover that the woman was pregnant and had morning sickness.

Subsequently, both the Hagerstown City Council and the Washington County commissioners denied the resettlement office's requests for some local money to assist the refugees.

Residents' complaints about the program have been largely economic: There simply isn't enough - not enough jobs, services, space in schools - to go around.

Advocates countered that most refugees have jobs, pay taxes and contribute to their adopted communities.

A forum last month at Hagerstown Community College, intended to answer questions about the program, seemed only to highlight the divisions among residents.

"I don't like to see this community changed to where I can't live here anymore!" one man shouted from the audience.

"You're shoving these refugees at us," someone else said. "What about our own?"

"I don't see this as a drain. I see it as an investment in the future," said panelist Martin Ford, of the Maryland Office of New Americans, which provides support to refugees. "You're speaking as if these refugees are guests. They become Americans. ... They become us."

Irish and German immigrants, the ancestors of many in the audience, once were not accepted in the country either, said Jeanne Jacobs, 82, who emigrated from France six decades ago. "What are we doing? We're doing the same thing!" she said before stalking out of the auditorium.

Though some who fought the resettlements say Hagerstown is a dying industrial city, others paint a different picture. While some factories have shut down, other jobs - particularly in warehousing, distribution, transportation, manufacturing, insurance and financial services - have moved into the county, said Robin Ferree, of the Hagerstown-Washington County Economic Development Commission.

"Many of the local industries here are still hiring," Ferree said. The county lost some jobs when Mack Trucks Inc. downsized and other manufacturers closed, but since 2006, the county has gained almost 2,000 new jobs, he said.

"To be honest with you, we've had a hard time finding people who want to work here from the Hagerstown area," said Cheryl Eyler of Parker Plastics, who has hired about eight refugees. "The refugees have a great work ethic. They're here every day, they don't call in sick and they work hard. ... They're extremely thankful for having a job."

Eyler currently has a few openings for $10- to $11-an-hour packing jobs. She would like to hire more refugees, she said, but now that is unlikely.

Fifty refugees, most from Myanmar, had been expected to move to the area in 2008; now, they will be redirected to another part of the country. The Virginia Council of Churches will close its local office by the end of the year.

Nigh expressed relief. "It should have been handled better," she said. "What has happened has had to happen."

But others were dispirited.

The resettlement office could have done a better public relations job and matched more refugee families to sponsors at local churches, even its supporters acknowledge.

But ultimately, the problem was an "unwelcoming atmosphere," said Frances Tinsley of Church World Service, the church council's parent organization. "It's pretty dangerous when you have people who say, 'We don't want you here.' "

"That's very sad," she said. "What does that say about America?"

Siriki Diabate, 34, a journalist from the Ivory Coast who fled that country after articles he wrote angered government officials, said he feels "abandoned."

"I'm really upset ... and I don't know what to say," said Diabate, who works for the plastic bottle manufacturer and hopes that his wife and four daughters will join him here soon. "If I could meet these people, perhaps I'd try to draw the situation - there are people in the world living not as they do."

To some extent, he said, he blamed those who brought him to Hagerstown. Why didn't they know beforehand whether the community would be receptive? Why didn't they "sensitize" people, he asked.

It's not realistic to move now, Diabate said, but one day, he expects he will.

"This place is nice; I like it ... I'm safe," he said. "But if people here have it in their minds that they don't want refugees, then the decision is to leave."

rona.marech@baltsun.com

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