The protests filled the Indianapolis International Airport with chants and fury.
“No hate, no fear. Refugees are welcome here.”
They were fighting President Trump’s executive order that bars foreigners from seven Muslim-majority countries -- Iraq, Iran, Yemen, Libya, Sudan, Somalia and Syria.
[Click here to read about the actions of resistance across IU and Bloomington]
Raghad Batman, 8, had a favorite sign from the protest.
She laughed and explained that for awhile, it just said, “Refugees we come,” until someone took a marker and added the previously missing L so it read, “Refugees welcome,” like it was supposed to.
The protests hit close to home for Raghad. Her Syrian family had only called Indianapolis home for two years.
Since the ban, it could have been the Batmans stuck behind the airport gate.
The civil war in Syria shoved the six Batmans first to Lebanon, where they lived for two years. They sat through refugee status approval, interviews with the United Nations, three fingerprint screenings, Homeland Security clearance, background checks, health screenings, a referral for settlement in the United States and more interviews.
The U.S.‘s refugee vetting process took two years, but finally the family of six, the youngest of whom was just 3, was given the green light.
***
Marwan could not describe how much joy the acceptance of his family brought him. He finally had hope that his family would be out of danger.
[The IDS followed the Batman family during their first year in Indiana – read the full story here]
They came to the United States and a state called Indiana. A man named Mike Pence was in charge, but they wouldn’t learn about him until later, when the governor led a Republican effort to ban Syrian refugees.
Though they had arrived in a land free of war, every day was a battle.
Only Rama, who is now 16, knew any English. Her parents, Marwan and Lona, her 14-year-old brother Rakan, her 5-year-old sister Rimas and Raghad had no way to understand the new world around them.
Marwan’s brother, who had been accepted as a refugee in Switzerland, had time to learn a new language before entering the workforce. In the U.S., Marwan needed a job immediately.
In Syria he was a chef at his own restaurant. In Indianapolis he found a job preparing halal meat in the back of a restaurant.
Even in a foreign country with a new language and difficult work, the Batmans had hope for their new lives — until last week, when Trump signed his executive order.
***
Raghad said she thinks President Trump’s face looks funny, like a triangle or a square, and draws it as a different shape every time she picks up her markers.
She has her own opinions about the new leader of her adoptive country.
“Hillary Clinton doesn’t tell that much lies, but Donald Trump tells thousands of lies,” Raghad said.
Her parents and older siblings have more complex views of Trump.
Marwan and Rama said they have to respect Trump as president of the United States even if they disagree with what he is doing to the Muslim community.
“To let the kids be unsafe is horrible,” Rama said.
Rama said they know families who have sold all their belongings with the intent to come to the U.S., but now they are stuck in the middle of a crisis with nothing.
Marwan and his family wanted to become citizens, but he said it might not be a possibility for them anymore. He is afraid they will find themselves in the same circumstances as the other floating refugees.
He wishes the United Nations would call and reassure him that he still has human rights.
Marwan is also scared for what Trump may do next. He said he knows they aren’t in any danger right now, but that could change with another new announcement.
Half the country is with him, but the other half is against him.
***
The Batmans are Muslims. They hate when they see how violently their religion is portrayed on television. The narrative does not match what they were taught,or what they practice.
A common Arabic greeting, “assalaam alaikum,” translates in English to “peace be upon you.” From both a religious and cultural perspective, Muslims cannot greet their enemies with mean words, Rama explained.
She said in the Quran, when the word “neighbor” is written, there is nothing that specifies only other Muslims as neighbors, so everyone has to be treated equally.
Marwan said the family practices Islam, not terrorism. He spoke passionately about his religion in Arabic but could not find the words in English to explain fully. He asked his daughter for help.
“In our religion,” Rakan said, “it’s not possible to kill a spider.”
***
Despite the uncertainty caused by the executive order, the family said America is still their second home.
They have friends, their English is improving, and they like living in the U.S.
Usually, the volunteers who help refugees settle into their new lives only stick around for six months to a year, but the woman who looked after them still comes by to check in.
“I’m so happy,” Lona, the Batman family’s mother, said. Her children and husband smiled at her English. They all agreed.
Rama and Rakan both said they enjoy going to school. Rama is a junior at North Central High School, and Rakan is in eighth grade at Eastwood Middle School.
After the election Rakan said he watched black and white students at Eastwood argue about Trump.
At North Central the school newspaper neglected to interview minority students about Trump. A petition went around because of it, Rama said.
The Batman children try to avoid the conflicts they see at school. Rakan said he doesn’t see the point in involving himself in the arguments.
“They’re going to divide us,” he said. “If they divide us, we can’t focus.”
Because he and his peers all go to the same school, it would just cause more trouble to fight.
Instead, the older Batman children would rather focus on their learning.
“We love to study, and we’d love to do something for America,” Rama said.
Rama said she hopes to go to IU. She doesn’t know what she wants to study, but she has heard good things about the Arabic program.
Even though he has time to decide where he will to go to college, Rakan already knows what his career will be, he said. He wants to be a lawyer. He said he wants to help everyone.
***
As her parents and older siblings talked politics, Raghad perched on the patterned couch next to her mother. Recently, she learned about Americans like Rosa Parks, who wouldn’t give up her seat on the bus for a white man, and Martin Luther King Jr., who was shot because he wanted black people to have equal rights.
Raghad suddenly had a new question as she listened to her family talk about the U.S. Who becomes president if Trump dies?
The answer was one she didn’t expect to hear, but she knew his name as soon as she heard it: Vice President Mike Pence.
Her eyes grew wide with the understanding of what that meant. The man who didn’t want her in Indiana a year ago now doesn’t want her in the U.S. at all.
