According to Wynfred Russell: “the end of the Cold War created a vacuum in Western strategic interest in Africa […] into this vacuum rushed humanitarianism and its twin, liberal human rights, as alternative guiding lights for Euro-American foreign policy.”

Russell, the director at the Center for Multicultural Services at Normandale Community College gave a presentation at the Africa Today Conference to explain why Minnesota is particularly attractive to refugees.

African immigrants in Minnesota leave their countries of birth for a myriad of reasons including: “civil war, ethnic/religious violence, human rights violations, poverty and economic depravity, political repression, educational advancement and economic opportunities. “

Russell attributes the large settlement of refugees to the presence of ten refugee humanitarian organizations in Minnesota who settle refugees here through the American Refugee Resettlement Program. (See diagram for the largest of these humanitarian organizations) These organizations he asserts are aggressive in resettling refugees in Minnesota:  “they ambulance chase refugees.”

The cycle, he says, continues because these organizations need to continue receive funding to stay in business so they settle refugees in Minnesota so that they (the organizations) can offer services, such as trauma therapy, cultural adjustment among other social services to these new Americans.

Russell observed that “unfortunately, many people make money in the name of helping poor people.”  He also said that not all humanitarian organizations and people were out to make money out of refugees.

Once refugees are settled through the American Refugee Resettlement Program, they bring in their families and soon a thriving community begins to establish itself; another reason explaining the large number of refugees in Minnesota.

Following his presentation, the audience engaged in a lively debate on the fate and success of refugee settlement. Most notably was the frustration of many refugees expressing the challenges of accessing the professional job market.

Russell agreed, “Underemployment is a serious problem in Minnesota among Africans. My maternal uncle was an engineer in Liberia, he now works as a janitor at HCMC. His Liberian educational credentials are not recognized.”

A social worker in the audience attempted to address the underemployment issue: food processing, and textile industry have been instrumental in hiring refugees. As for professionals, many of these refugees have lost all paper trail on their education, and professional background, and it is impossible for them to get professional jobs.”

An elderly American man also said that with a failing economy it is harder for older individuals, foreign or not, to get jobs matching their qualifications.

Many immigrants “take the first job that comes to them because they need to sustain their families.”

African countries need to develop a hybrid of governing styles to achieve modern-day democracies was the consensus at a recent conference in St. Paul.

Tom Gitaa, the founder and publisher of Mshale Newspaper, who was the keynote speaker urged African governments to re-democratize.

“African countries should use old African democracy processes that were participatory and consultant in nature.” Gitaa said that a combination of traditional African governments, and Western-style democracies would take Africans away from the current myriad of problems that have affected the continent following independence.

“Colonialism interrupted democracies in Africa,” Gitaa said. On the other hand, Gitaa warned Africans against putting all blame on colonialists.

“Some of our problems have nothing to do with the West. Some of these are internal problems, and the underlying fight for power and resources.”

Following his speech, Gitaa engaged other community leaders in a discussion on the success and potential challenges faced Africa in its adoption of such hybrid governments.

Professor Mahmoud El-Kati from Macalester College was curious about how African governments would make progress. “People tend to put too much faith in government. How does Africa see that they build a positive civil society?”

Gitaa recognized the growth of civil societies in many parts of Africa including Nigeria, Ghana and Kenya, these organizations he says, have been instrumental in highlighting ills of government. Gitaa urged Africans in the Diaspora to identify and finance constructive civil societies in their countries of birth.

“It [the growth of civil society] has to be forced, because members of the civil society become the face of change, and are many times terrorized by their current governments.”

A Liberian man in the audience was concerned that “there is a conflict between Western and indigenous communities.” He complained that while Liberia was on a path to democratic and economic growth, many of the indigenous communities are still struggling to enjoy this growth.

“The second scramble for Africa is in Liberia as it is rich in resources. Liberians living in the Diaspora are one of the most educated groups of people in America, so their initiatives to invest in the local economies of their countries will direct money towards development of the country,” said Gitaa.

A member of the audience was skeptical about using European/Western democracies as models of working democracies. He warned, “Neo-colonialists are much more insidious; foreign think-tanks and non-government organizations in many African countries have little input from indigenous communities.”

This conference, Western or Indigenous Democracy: What is the Choice for Africa? was hosted by Africa Today, an organization that describes itself as a “a financial relief organization with the purpose of assisting African communities with diminishing health, education, and economic development.”

The conference highlighted the need for African governments to begin work towards finding a working governing solution.

Seattle, WA—Asha Mohamed knew America was the place for her soon after her arrival in a Kenyan refugee camp. “They gave me two books, a Bible and a pamphlet that talked about the American Constitution.” She was familiar with the former, but found the latter “the most fascinating document that I could ever read.”

As a refugee, Mohamed was then a young teenager who had become separated from her family during a chaotic episode of Somalia’s civil strife.

“Strangers took me from Mogadishu to Mombasa [in Kenya],” she explained, adding that she knew little of the Somali language. Coming from a somewhat privileged family, she had been educated in Italy.

In Italian schools, the study of English was mandatory and Mohamed’s most vivid impressions of America had been gleaned not from the ideals of its founders, but from the glamour and glitz of U.S. television exports. “My view of America was Dallas, Dynasty, and,” she added zestfully, “Wonderwoman!”

She was grateful to eventually reunite with her family members who also had made their way to Kenya. “None of my closest relatives were harmed,” she said. After two years there, she received her parents’ permission to come to America to study to be lawyer. Though, traditionalists in many ways, they were afraid of losing their daughters to Western culture, yet cognizant of the skills needed to survive in an interdependent world.

“I expected America to be this beacon of hope,” Mohamed said. Upon her arrival, she recalled being disappointed to find discrimination against women and “visible signs of racism.” There was economic shock as well.

Her legal sponsor was an aunt living in San Jose, one whose daily circumstances differed from what Mohamed had been accustomed.

“In Africa, we were affluent …. We had everything on speed dial,” she said bemusedly. “My aunt said, ‘Asha, we are poor here. You need to understand that. ’”

Mohamed did not.

“I didn’t want to accept the reality that she lived.” She thought her aunt had “settled” for a lower socio-economic status; that she had “given up.”

Reflecting, Mohamed said she realizes, “I was judgmental.” She knew little of the financial challenges of working class Americans.

In all her youthful naiveté, Mohamed too was still a product of a conservative Muslim culture. She said she chose to stand, like most Somali women, “by your community, by your faith, by your traditions.” She got married at 19. Her husband found a job in Seattle. “I wanted to go to New York .… He fell in love with the Emerald City.”

Now a mother of three, Mohamed is a counselor for the Seattle Housing Authority. She is also a community organizer, and a fervent immigrants’ and human rights activist at CURE – Coalition to Undo Racism Everywhere. She is looking forward to her role as a delegate to the Equal Voice for America’s Families town hall meeting in Los Angeles on Sept. 6. “We’re bringing 400 people from Seattle, 600 from the state,” she said energetically, prayerful that from within her group will emerge some who will help comprise “the next generation of critical thinkers.” Underwritten by the Marguerite Casey Foundation, there will be two other concurrent town halls in Birmingham and Chicago, respectively. The three-city event is expected to attract nearly 15,000 people, many of whom will have attended local and regional town halls 2007-2008.

Mohamed participated in an Equal Voice policy platform meeting in Chicago earlier this year where attendees spent four days to produce a working agenda for low-income families. That agenda will be submitted for approval on Sept. 6.

While in Chicago, Mohamed said she was fortunate through Equal Voice to make valuable contacts with community organizers who have experience in facing some of the issues plaguing Seattle, particularly the city’s resurgence of gang violence.

“We’re back in the ‘90s,” Mohamed exclaimed, except now it’s “East African gangs trying to get street cred.” She lamented, for example, the recent death of a 16-year-old Somali youth she had known since he was eight. He took an African-American friend to attend a Somali wedding. Afterwards, while driving down the highway, he was followed and shot by fellow Somalis, apparently enraged at him for “betraying his people” by bringing an African-American guest.

Mohamed said that there are now “stabbings left and right,” territorial disputes over drug distribution turf among Asian, Latino, African American, and East African gangs, all being fueled by new Somali arrivals from Minnesota and Ohio. It is very tough for parents to admit to the accusations, she said, that “your kid sells drugs, your kid does drugs.”

Mohamed still finds America’s ethnic diversity fascinating. She has encountered courageous individuals – Muslims and non-Muslims — who stood with her in her outspoken criticism against the persecution of Muslims in her community after 9-11. “I started doing training in high schools, ‘No Hate in Washington,’” she said. She challenged the Patriot Act and has collaborated in organizing opposition to the U.S. invasion and occupation of Iraq. Throughout her still evolving career as an activist, she has made no distinction between being a Muslim and an American.

Through her efforts, Mohamed had helped many in Seattle’s immigrant community to secure social services, their green cards, and even U.S. citizenship, but “it never occurred to me to get my own citizenship.” A phone call changed that: “Hey Asha, your mom is very sick. She’s in Dubai.”

Mohamed went through the preparations for travel, including filing for U.S. citizenship, but the bureaucracy was daunting. Ultimately, her mother died before she could leave, and had she left, she would not have been able to return — a mother, a wife, a woman who, by her account, has defended the best of America’s principles. “No one gives you a license to mistreat people because they’re poor or different.”

Now officially an American, and soon to complete her undergraduate degree, Mohamed has her sights set on being an immigration attorney. Her law degree will be a Golden Lasso, of sorts, enabling her to hold those in authority accountable. “This is the Golden Lasso. Besides being made from an indestructible material, it also carries with it the power to compel people to tell the truth. Use it well, and with compassion.” – Queen Hippolyte to Wonder Woman

“It’s tough especially for young Black men” said Washington. “I need a job with benefits, but nothing is out there. I’ve had a few interviews, but they don’t result in nothing.”

Washington has no skills and he’s a high school dropout.

But James Price is frustrated, too. He’s got a college degree and the skills to go along with it. He’s mostly worked in the media and ran his own business for a decade before his cash flow ran dry.

“There is a media crisis,” he said. “Newspapers aren’t hiring and televisions stations are only hiring if you have a good inside contact and you are young and white. Mature, skilled Black people like me need not apply. I’m at the point where I’ll take almost any job that pays me what I’m worth and provides health insurance.”

These are the easy tales of woe found in almost any African-American community in Philadelphia. But these anecdotes and the government’s recently released national unemployment statistics don’t tell the true story about the depth of joblessness in the Black community.

The most recent U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics figures show that the national African-American unemployment rate has hit 11 percent — reaching double digits for the first time in three years.

The bureau has yet to release Philadelphia’s unemployment rate by race or gender. The city’s total jobless rate stands at 7.2 percent, higher than the nation’s 5.7 percent unemployment rate.

Experts say the current increase in African-American unemployment is driven by a rise in Black women’s unemployment, which jumped 1.7 percentage points, from 8.3 percent in July to 10 percent in August. Last August, the Black female unemployment rate was 7.5 percent.

This year, Black men’s unemployment rate declined slightly from July to August, going from 11.3 percent to 11.2 percent, but it is still significantly higher than it was just a year ago when it was a much lower at 7.9 percent.

Young Black adults and recent college graduates (25 to 29-year-olds) are finding it difficult to find work. Their unemployment has risen from 5.1 percent in August 2007 to 6.9 percent last month. As the economic downturn proceeds, it will continue to have a disproportionate effect on African Americans.

But the true extent of the unemployment problem rarely receives the attention that it deserves. Perhaps for reasons of race or systemic economic justice, Democratic and Republican presidents have made the real unemployment statistics almost impossible to find in the media.

People are rightfully suspicious of what the media now tries to pass of as “official” jobless statistic.

The unemployed heads African Americans see and know can be counted on street corners, in front of television sets, sitting in living rooms, bored and or angry and frustrated and locked down in some jail cell.

Finding the true jobless figures is like playing a shell game with a street corner hustler. The object to be found is taken off the table so no matter which shell the unsuspecting player picks, the object will never be found.

What makes the object — or the true jobless rate — so important is that it affects the social fabric of the African-American community.

A high unemployment rate can determine the quality of family life and education, crime, housing, how long people lives, how sick they are and many other vital factors.

Simply put: numbers are political. They tell stories that shape public policy and those policies can sometimes determine who lives and who dies; who will be homeless and who will not; who has heat in the winter and who will go hungry. Numbers are not to be trifled with.

And numbers come with consequences. These social ills require special programs ranging from Food Stamps, AID to Dependent Children, unemployment compensation, housing support, energy assistance and Medicaid.

In the 1950s, the federal, state and local governments paid $23.5 billion for these programs. By 1990, the cost for these programs hit $1 trillion — no small sum by any measure.

Some economists argue that the national Black jobless rate or employment-population ratio (the proportion of the working age population with a job) for African Americans is 42 percent of all those of working age.

The translation: Almost half of all African Americans who can work aren’t working.

There are numerous arguments about why that is the case. Among the most popular is that Black men, for example, refuse to work for what they call “chump change.” Any job, the popular saying goes, is better than no job.

In a recently released paper by Algernon Austin, director of the Washington based Economic Policy Institute’s Program on Race, Ethnicity and the Economy, he argues that studies have found that Black men are willing to work for lower wages than any other major racial and ethnic groups in the U.S.

He concluded that African-American men were willing to work for $5.85 an hour if there were no other jobs available and white men were willing to work for $8.93 under the same circumstances.

Austin also wrote: “The surprising fact about the employment rate gaps among white and Black men is that the gap is biggest among high school dropouts. It is the jobs that are defined as low-skill jobs (i.e., those that do not require a high school diploma) that Black men have the most difficulty obtaining.

“In 2007, for men in the prime working ages of 25 to 54 years old, the white-Black employment gap for high school dropouts was 15.4 percentage points. For male college graduates, whites had a four-percentage point employment advantage over Blacks. For men with advanced degrees, the white male employment advantage was 1.8 percentage points.”

The social consequences of such a high unemployment rate are astounding. Policymakers and social science contend that they have resulted in overcrowded jails, failing schools, deteriorating housing and a broken health care system.

“Based on these real numbers, it is clear that we need some kind of domestic Marshal Plan,” said Austin. He was referring to a World War II era development program that helped Europe and Japan recover from the war.

Rather than a Marshal Plan, there is a growing movement in the African-American community calling for reparations and economic justice for all Americans.

There are numerous reasons why the public never gets a chance to see these numbers.

Kevin Phillips, a speechwriter in the Nixon administration and an economist, says since 1960 both Democratic and Republican presidents have rigged the numbers and the media has played along.

He says even the Clinton administration, which was widely praised for its policies toward African Americans, helped push the real statistical realities of Blacks under the carpet.

According to him, the Clinton administration redefined the workforce as people seeking work for less than a year, so that those who were out of the job market for more than a year were not counted in the unemployment statistic.

The Clinton administration also thinned the household economic sampling from 60,000 to 50,000 by dropping mostly inner city households, resulting in a count that reduced Black unemployment and poverty levels.

These numbers are only expected to get worse as the nation’s economy settles into a deepening slump with worsening economic pain for families. The past seven months of job losses follows the slowest job growth since the Great Depression.

“The worst is yet to come in the U.S.,” Kenneth Rogoff, a Harvard University professor of economics, said in an interview.

As the old saying goes, when white America catches a cold, Black American catches pneumonia.