KEEP FAMILIES TOGETHER FOR A STRONGER COMMUNITY
A community effort to advocate, support, and provide resources for our community members who are unfairly targeted by I.C.E. with orders of removal, detention, or deportation.
We're catching up with Kim Ho Ma, Loeun Lun, and Many Uch who were featured in the documentary on "Sentenced Home" a documentary film that followed their journeys as Khmer refugees facing deportation.
Watch the documentary
Watch the documentary
Many Uch, center, poses with supporters in front of Department of Homeland Security Building in Tukwila. He was sworn in as a naturalized citizen an hour earlier. Photo Credit: Sela Mafi - FIGHT/APICAG
“This is one of the three achievements in my life that I’m proud of… the first was [being part of] indefinite cases [Zadvydas v. Davis], the second one was buying a home and then, this one is one of them,” said Many Uch, organizer and co-founder of Formerly Incarcerated Group Healing Together (F.I.G.H.T.) and the Khmer Anti-deportation Advocacy Group (KhAAG) to applause from over a dozen supporters and organizers after being sworn in as a naturalized citizen in front of the Department of Homeland Security building in Tukwila Washington.
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Congratulations to my old friend Many (pronounced “Mah-nee”) Uch, who finally obtained his US citizenship last week. Sadly, I could not be there to celebrate with him in-person and due to COVID, it was a quiet event. The last photo below was taken a week ago, celebrating with him over a beer in Seattle - Many always with a smile. The other images were taken from 2007 onwards, when I first met him and started following his fight for justice.
If you don’t know Many’s story, he was born in 1976 in Battambang, Cambodia, under the genocidal Khmer Rouge regime. His mother fled to Thailand after the regime fell, leaving Many’s father behind, and after 4 years in a Thai refugee camp, the family eventually moved to the US in 1984 and settled in White Center, just south of Seattle. Many's family were farmers back in Cambodia, arrived with nothing and lived in poverty, traumatized by a war and genocide the US government had a direct role in starting.
Continue reading at Stuart's blog >> To Be an American by Stuart Isett
If you don’t know Many’s story, he was born in 1976 in Battambang, Cambodia, under the genocidal Khmer Rouge regime. His mother fled to Thailand after the regime fell, leaving Many’s father behind, and after 4 years in a Thai refugee camp, the family eventually moved to the US in 1984 and settled in White Center, just south of Seattle. Many's family were farmers back in Cambodia, arrived with nothing and lived in poverty, traumatized by a war and genocide the US government had a direct role in starting.
Continue reading at Stuart's blog >> To Be an American by Stuart Isett
Southeast Asian American and Asian American Organizations Across the Country Denounce Trump Administration’s Move to Increase Deportations to Laos
Hmong/Lao Americans with Removal Orders Should Seek Legal Assistance
Washington, DC – We learned that in 2019 the US State Department (DOS), Department of Homeland Security (DHS), and the Government of Laos made a verbal agreement to deport a significant number of individuals annually with final removal orders to Laos. While there is currently no formal deportation memorandum of understanding between the United States and Laos, this verbal agreement makes those with final orders for deportation potentially more vulnerable to removal by the Trump Administration.
Moreover, DOS recently confirmed that the US Agency for International Development (USAID) is funding a reintegration program in Laos for deported individuals who do not speak Lao or have family connections — an indication that even former refugees with no ties to Laos will be included in this annual deportation goal. Since 1998, the United States has deported 219 individuals to Laos, and in 2019, five individuals were deported. Currently, about 4,500 Hmong/Laotian individuals living in the U.S. have a final order of removal.
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Washington, DC – We learned that in 2019 the US State Department (DOS), Department of Homeland Security (DHS), and the Government of Laos made a verbal agreement to deport a significant number of individuals annually with final removal orders to Laos. While there is currently no formal deportation memorandum of understanding between the United States and Laos, this verbal agreement makes those with final orders for deportation potentially more vulnerable to removal by the Trump Administration.
Moreover, DOS recently confirmed that the US Agency for International Development (USAID) is funding a reintegration program in Laos for deported individuals who do not speak Lao or have family connections — an indication that even former refugees with no ties to Laos will be included in this annual deportation goal. Since 1998, the United States has deported 219 individuals to Laos, and in 2019, five individuals were deported. Currently, about 4,500 Hmong/Laotian individuals living in the U.S. have a final order of removal.
>>Continue Reading from SEARAC
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Voices from LAT 2019:
Bunthay Cheam Sometimes I feel like I’m in this bubble. Like, the way I think, generally, about politics or community work or what helping another person means is the center. And the people around me, the people that I spend day after day in work, help pad that type of thought. And the rest of the country might be different. Sometimes by a bit. Sometimes wildly. On thought. On policy. And I wonder sometimes, what are their experiences? What type of obstacles, confrontations, and struggles have they endured? And what type of kinship do they have, what type of bread have they broken with others, and what type of love letters have they received? What’s the difference?
A few years ago, I came to a fork in the road and, instead of picking a path with concrete laid, I took a left and decided to take the one unbeaten, as it related to my life’s journey up until then. I had been in the corporate world for some time and, when that ended, it presented me with a blank slate of possibilities. Not entirely designed but with a bit of intention, I began immersing myself with community-oriented folks that were doing work on all types of levels, working to build platforms and spaces for people that needed it. Continue Reading >> SEARAC Voices from LAT 2019 |
HOPE IS CONTAGIOUS
By Asian Prisoner Support Committee
Illustrations by Natalie Bui
In Winter 2017, members of the Asian Prisoner Support Committee (APSC) went to visit their friend Borey “Peejay” Ai1, a Cambodian (Khmer) person detained at an Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) immigration jail in northern California. During the visit, it was clear that ICE had worn Peejay down: he was skinnier, his eyes bloodshot and droopy, his voice soft and muffled behind the visiting room glass. Peejay had been denied bond and had just lost his Convention Against Torture (CAT)2 case. All signs pointed to his imminent deportation.
It was in these moments that we began to search for hope on behalf of Peejay—and we found it in the hopeful struggles of the community around us: in Ny Nourn3, a survivor of domestic violence who fought ICE in a landmark case; in Khmer families in the Bay Area, who created a movement to free their loved ones; in Anoop Prasad4, a fearless immigration attorney and advocate; and in Peejay himself, who continues to fight against all odds. While most of APSC’s direct experience comes from organizing struggles in California, we were also inspired by Khmer anti-deportation organizing efforts in other states, like those of Many Uch5 in Washington and Jenny Srey6, Montha Chum7, and the campaign #ReleaseMN8 in Minnesota. Learning more about these freedom stories reinvigorated us to continue fighting for Peejay’s freedom and countless other Cambodian Americans who would be detained in subsequent ICE raids.
Continue reading >> Hope is Contagious
Illustrations by Natalie Bui
In Winter 2017, members of the Asian Prisoner Support Committee (APSC) went to visit their friend Borey “Peejay” Ai1, a Cambodian (Khmer) person detained at an Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) immigration jail in northern California. During the visit, it was clear that ICE had worn Peejay down: he was skinnier, his eyes bloodshot and droopy, his voice soft and muffled behind the visiting room glass. Peejay had been denied bond and had just lost his Convention Against Torture (CAT)2 case. All signs pointed to his imminent deportation.
It was in these moments that we began to search for hope on behalf of Peejay—and we found it in the hopeful struggles of the community around us: in Ny Nourn3, a survivor of domestic violence who fought ICE in a landmark case; in Khmer families in the Bay Area, who created a movement to free their loved ones; in Anoop Prasad4, a fearless immigration attorney and advocate; and in Peejay himself, who continues to fight against all odds. While most of APSC’s direct experience comes from organizing struggles in California, we were also inspired by Khmer anti-deportation organizing efforts in other states, like those of Many Uch5 in Washington and Jenny Srey6, Montha Chum7, and the campaign #ReleaseMN8 in Minnesota. Learning more about these freedom stories reinvigorated us to continue fighting for Peejay’s freedom and countless other Cambodian Americans who would be detained in subsequent ICE raids.
Continue reading >> Hope is Contagious
Thuoy Phok expected his meeting with U.S. Immigrations and Customs Enforcement to be brief — so brief that he hadn’t eaten breakfast. A plumber from Tacoma, Phok planned on returning to work later that day.
“I thought maybe it was good news,” Phok, 43, recalls of the Sept. 10, 2018, meeting in Tukwila, taking off his baseball cap and running a calloused hand over his balding head.
Phok, a Cambodian refugee whose family escaped genocide and arrived in the United States in 1980, had received a notice summoning him a few weeks earlier. He said the letter told him only that federal immigration officials — who he’d been checking in with regularly over the last 18 years — wanted to see him.
The meeting, it soon became clear, would be a one-sided affair. For Phok, the results would be life-changing.
It was brief, lasting 10 to 15 minutes. When it was over, Phok said he was taken to a holding cell. He’d remain detained in various immigration facilities, he told The News Tribune, for the next three months.
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“I thought maybe it was good news,” Phok, 43, recalls of the Sept. 10, 2018, meeting in Tukwila, taking off his baseball cap and running a calloused hand over his balding head.
Phok, a Cambodian refugee whose family escaped genocide and arrived in the United States in 1980, had received a notice summoning him a few weeks earlier. He said the letter told him only that federal immigration officials — who he’d been checking in with regularly over the last 18 years — wanted to see him.
The meeting, it soon became clear, would be a one-sided affair. For Phok, the results would be life-changing.
It was brief, lasting 10 to 15 minutes. When it was over, Phok said he was taken to a holding cell. He’d remain detained in various immigration facilities, he told The News Tribune, for the next three months.
Continue Reading>>
The history of Cambodian refugees is one of immense strength and resilience in the face of unfathomable hardship. Asian Americans Advancing Justice - Asian Law Caucus collaborated with illustrator Natalie Bui to depict this history and to affirm our unwavering support for our Khmer community.
Check out Natalie’s work on Instagram at @nataliepbui and on her website: nataliebui.com
Check out Natalie’s work on Instagram at @nataliepbui and on her website: nataliebui.com