Donia Hanaei, a senior at the University of Colorado, remembers the discrimination she faced as young Muslim growing up in Marietta, Ga., after 9/11.
Kids on the playground called her “monkey” and accused her of being a terrorist, and there were frequently protests outside of her family’s mosque.
But growing up, she always took heart in the fact that American democracy is premised on the rule of law, which equally protected Hanaei, a citizen, even if the name-calling hurt.
When President Donald Trump issued an executive order on Jan. 27 temporarily banning travel into the United States from seven countries — including Iran, where some of Hanaei’s relatives live — she felt fearful, for the first time, for her basic right to exist in the only country she’s ever called home.
“This was being held up by somebody who’s supposed to be there for the good of the people, for everyone together,” she said of Trump’s ban. “The law is supposed to be just, and if they could pass this law, what’s next? We’ve seen this happen with the Japanese. We’ve seen this happen, in the more extreme case, with the Jews.”
The country’s borders are now reopened to visa holders from the seven previously blocked countries, following a federal judge’s ruling against the executive order late Friday.
“There’s no support” for the White House’s argument that there’s a need to “protect” the U.S. from the people of Iran, Iraq, Syria, Somalia, Yemen, Libya and Sudan, said the judge, James Robart of Seattle.
‘Worried as a human being’
The ruling came as relief to people whose concepts of their own places in America were immediately upended by the travel ban.
The Camera collected stories from 15 people last week, who represented five of the seven countries, plus three other predominantly Muslim ones, and who all expressed various forms of worry.
Among them was a Syrian man who cancelled plans to fly home for a funeral; a Libyan man whose parents were set to join him by moving to Colorado, before being told that would no longer be possible; and a Bangladeshi woman who also cancelled a flight to visit ailing parents, out of fear that the ban would be extended to her homeland while she was away from Boulder.
Prior to Robart’s ruling, Hanaei was preparing mentally to graduate in May without being able to celebrate with several Iranian family members, including some she hasn’t seen in a dozen years, who were set to possibly cancel their visits.
These were scenarios that many never expected to encounter.
“I’d heard many great things from people before I came to this country,” said Abo Abe Allah, a 34-year-old from Libya. “I’d heard that this country won’t oppress anyone because the Constitution is very fair. I conveyed this message to my family and friends, that even if you’re not American, nobody can oppress you.
“So when I heard the decision of Trump, it really affected my deeply.”
Trump’s administration said it would direct the Department of Justice to allow resumed enforcement of the ban, but, for now, travel restrictions are as they were prior to Jan. 27.
And despite the relief felt among Boulderites from the targeted countries, and among local Muslims and their allies, a profound sense of unease remains for many who say they feel less welcome here than they ever have.
“This election has really traumatized me a lot,” said Maputo Mensah, 47, a Ghanain American who’s held citizenship for a decade. “I’m worried as a Muslim and I’m worried as a human being.”
Fluid situation
Saad Gondal, a 27-year-old whose family moved to Colorado from Pakistan, said he’s gotten used to being eyed, and usually stopped and taken to secondary screening at airports, but that he’s not felt this kind of insecurity before.
“I’ve never been scared as a Muslim in the U.S. until now,” Gondal said. “I’ve never been scared to leave the country and to be afraid I couldn’t come back.”
Arghavan Safavi-Naini, a post-doctoral student living in Boulder on a visa, said, “The way I’m being treated in the U.S. is very strange to me because it’s a combination of many years of misinformation in the U.S. about Iran and maybe some reluctance to learn about my country.”
The administration’s unpredictability and professed desires to keep certain people out of the country mean locals are keeping close watch on a fast-evolving situation that favors them at the moment but could turn — and would, if the president had his way — within hours.
“It’s a very unsettling state of anxiety, of worry,” said Christina Fiflis, a Boulder immigration attorney helping lead a group of 60 lawyers and law students who’ve been stationed at Denver International Airport daily since Trump’s executive order came down.
“We have a very smart community in the Boulder area that understands correctly all the dimensions of this problem, but nobody is prepared to know the right way to respond in terms of protecting against the chaos.”
Alex Burness: 303-473-1389, burnessa@dailycamera.com or twitter.com/alex_burness
Our editors found this article on this site using Google and regenerated it for our readers.
