(male narrator) Home is more than a place.

Home is where our identities are formed, where family and community comfort us, where the foundation of our lives is built.

Immigrants leave behind everything they've known-- their families, their histories, and their homes in search of something greater.

Leaving home is not always an end, but the start of a new chapter.

It's the courage to seek out new possibilities, to chase dreams and to create new places of belonging.

These are the stories of finding a place, a community, a chosen home.

My name is Marcia Scarpin, and I'm from Brazil I grew up in a very small city in Brazil called Arapongas.

My whole life I have been studying public schools, and I have an opportunity to be here for 7 months in my PhD because my program had a partnership with Indiana University.

And when I had this opportunity to live here in the United States, I had the opportunity to see how life is easy here in the United States when you compare it to Brazil.

So when I come back to Brazil, I was married at that time, and I told George, I say George, I want to live in the United States.

And he said okay Marcia-- how?

I'm Jorge Scarpin.

I was a faculty member at accounting faculty in my home country Brazil.

for some time.

And then started talking to my wife, and then okay lets try.

Then Concordia invited me to come, and then that is how we came here, and then some years later my wife started teaching here as well at Concordia in 2023.

I think I was very proud for myself, have this courage to move to Brazil to United States.

Also I'm very proud to offer for my daughter ah, possibilities.

And it's very interesting because Gab my daughter.

she's born here, and she is truly Minnesota.

Like truly, she loves cold, she loves snow, she loves skating.

But every year we go to Brazil because I want to make sure Gabby knows she has a Brazilian family In our home we just speak in Portuguese with her, just Portuguese.

And I think it's really important for her, it's really important for her to know her heritage.

And for me, today this is my home.

You know, and this is so important to have a home.

[piano plays softly] ♪ My name is Zakaria Amin, I go by Zak.

I was born and raised in the city of Erbil.

It is one of the oldest cities in the world.

And we call it Kurdistan.

Kurdistan is not a country but is a semiautonomous region.

My dad passed away when I was only 11 months.

And we had a very big family.

My mother had to raise and take care of all the kids, like 11 kids.

I was born in 1980, and I finished my college and my schooling there, and I became a teacher for a couple years before I became a translator for the American Army and police trainer.

It was really hard working because we were going to very high risk areas where, and at that time there were like lots of extremist groups, they were making explosions, things like that, and we had to go to those kind of places.

I don't want to hide from you that I have posttraumatic stress disorder.

When there is a sound it just reminds me about the sounds of explosions, sometimes I do have nightmares.

It's not easy; it's not easy.

No.

One of the things actually that drives me to be hopeful and working hard is my kids.

I had one son when I met my wife when we immigrated to here, and I have two other sons were born here.

Their success is mine, their happiness is mine, so I'm living for them.

One thing that I do have, advice for myself, for my family and for every immigrant is that they need to get adapted as much as they can and they should not be hesitant that if they get adapted that's at the expense of their culture-- that's not true.

They can still maintain and promote their culture, practice their culture and be part of what they are, keep their identity.

Respecting the system over here, knowing the language, getting along with the other people, has nothing to do with losing your identity.

I'm still Kurdish and American; I'm Kurdish-American I love my city, now this is my home, my first home.

I love my country, I love the system, I love every single part of this country, but I still think about where I came from.

My name is Fowzia Adde.

I was originally from Somalia.

I was born in Mogadishu, I arrived to Moorhead area 1997, December.

I left my country when I was around 9 years old.

In 1990, Somali, we had a war that started.

First it was a coup who was overtaking the government, but then it turned out to be a civil war.

Then I came to Kenya.

We were 3,500 in our refugee camp.

It used to be called Hatimi Refugee Camp in Mombasa.

Because the refugee camp I was in, most of them were settled here in Lutheran Social Services.

Then me alone, I was settled in Washington DC.

Once we arrived to the United States we started communicating.

Where are you?

I'm in Ohio, I'm in North Dakota.

So this communication-- I told them about my struggle.

and how I'm working 7-Eleven in the nighttime, in the morning I'm working housekeeping, And I can barely afford my life.

They told me well, here in Fargo-Moorhead it's affordable.

At that time apartments were like $425 for a 2-bedroom.

So I catch the Greyhound.

What surprised me the most, it was the ethnicity culture in America, the black and the white, and the racism-- those, they were hard for me to swallow.

So I could not allow that to come true.

I just focused forward-- what I wanted to do, how I wanted to go in this community.

When you are a refugee you have 2 different minds.

You just came from a hardship, you just came from a war living in the worst way of life, And all of a sudden you are in a world where they're ahead in technology, ahead in everything.

There there is a human, what they call-- ability inside of you that kicks in and says you know what, we can do it.

My name is Kawar Farok, I'm from the Kurdistan part of Iraq, but I was never born there.

I was born in a refugee camp in Turkey.

So when we fled to Turkey, Turkey again being an oppressor of Kurds for hundreds and hundreds of years.

Turkey told us we were not going to be allowed in.

They threatened to submit us back to Saddam Hussein's forces which would have been pure genocide.

Eventually they succumbed to pressure from the UN and from the Western powers and they allowed us through.

I was born a year later in 1989.

My parents spent 4 years in refugee camps.

I know it's really hard for Americans to relate.

When I say American, I'm an American, but I mean general people that have never left their country.

It's extremely hard to relate to a refugee or someone leaving persecution because you've never been in a situation where you just gather a backpack or a bag, and then you're on your way.

There is no time to grab a couch and a bag and haul it with you in a U-Haul truck; it doesn't exist.

You know, they say the second generation typically loses the mother tongue, and that holds true, and I'm a proven fact of that.

My kids know Kurdish to a very limited degree.

My oldest is 6, my second oldest is 4, and I have a newborn that's 5 months almost.

I did something that my parents couldn't do-- I gave them names that we're both able to use in Kurdish and English.

Therefore the kids wouldn't feel the way I felt, because when a teacher struggles on a name, you know it's yours.

I had that happen throughout my life, most of my life, being Kawar.

I named my daughter Ava, which Ava in Kurdish means foundation.

When my wife and I got married and we had our first kid, we wanted that to be our foundation, so we named her Ava.

My son's name is Ari, and Ari is also in Kurdish, so it goes both ways-- Ari and Ari.

My youngest is Avi, in Kurdish it means an area with plenty of water.

So I gave my kids names at least where the general population can say their names without any fear of oh, they're not American, which unfortunately, it's true.

With people, my generation now, which is probably the first wave of kids from the '91, '92 migrant immigration, this is home for us.

When I go to Kurdistan, I love it, I absolutely love it.

People around me all speak the same language I do, the culture, the food-- everything is great-- but I still miss Moorhead.

My name is Jihan Brifki, I was born in Kurdistan.

which is north of Iraq.

We fled Kurdistan region of Iraq in 1988 due to the ongoing war that was happening in Kurdistan region of Iraq.

I was probably like 2 years old, 3 years old when all of this was happening.

My mom was a single mom with 6 kids.

Our family started walking to Turkey, going for I believe it was 4 nights and 5 days of walking.

The camp was pretty much a desert.

There was no trees, there was no bathrooms, there was no water, electricity-- nothing.

Each family was given a little tent maybe that was good for 2 to 3 people, and our families lived in these tents for 4 years.

When we left the Turkish camp, we had nothing.

It was just us-- it was my mom, it was myself and my 2 brothers and my sisters and my nephew.

It was very difficult for my mom because, I mean, due to the ongoing conflict, the war, she never had the opportunity to get her education, so she was not able to read, write in her own language.

Then coming to the United States with these little kids.

not being able to speak English, not being able to drive, getting a job was almost impossible for her.

So our sponsors came and registered us for school.

My brothers, my sisters, we all promised ourselves we would get ourselves a job and support our mom and try to live better.

I do a lot of projects with the Immigrant Development Center helping immigrants.

We have a program, Driving for Success Where we're helping immigrant women that are new to the country or are having a difficult time learning how to take the employment test.

That gives them empowerment, they're able to go to work and find a job.

Because this is a place for opportunity.

You know, if I had not come here, I would not be who I am today, you know?

My kids would not have the life they had.

So I feel like America has given me the opportunity that I never thought in a lifetime-- this little girl trying to survive genocide.

I'm just so grateful that we were able to be part of the community and also contribute as much as we can.

My name is Joseph Patrick Mooney.

If you say that in Gaelic it's [speaks Gaelic] is my name.

I live in Crookston, Minnesota.

I was born in England, but at the age of 8 we moved back to Ireland, and I spent the next 18 years in Ireland, so I consider myself Irish.

My parents are Irish, so I consider myself Irish.

So I worked at a pharmaceutical company in the middle of Ireland that was called Elan Pharmaceuticals that was started by an American from Georgia, who wanted to market one of our products in the US but we weren't big enough, so we partnered with an American pharmaceutical company and they sent over some Americans, so I married an American, and then in 1999, moved to Kansas City.

That's where the pharmaceutical company was there.

Lived in Kansas City for about 7 years, then a friend of mine moved to California to work for a biotechnology company over there called Amgen.

I'd never been to California so I went for an interview, then I ended up in California for the next 22 years.

Then I left San Diego and went to Fargo for a year, worked for a company there, and then I decided to quit science.

My wife had a very successful photography business, so then I joined her business and worked with her.

So some of my first initial impressions of the US when I got here was one, the magnitude of the country.

In Ireland you can drive from one side to the other in about 2 hours.

So I've lived in a lot of places.

People always ask me what's your favorite?

I say I have no favorite, I enjoyed all of them because of the differences.

Living in different countries and different states has given me a very unique perspective of the world, and even America.

To me America is a very fragmented country at times.

We are very unified in certain situations, then in others we are very, very fragmented.

I believe in embracing those differences, and coming to America, there is a lot of people who do want to come here.

Yes, there's parts of the world that hate America and what it represents.

But it gives people a lot of opportunity.

I would not have this life I don't think if I'd stayed in Ireland.

And it's not that I wanted this life.

That was not my goal in coming here.

It just, it happens here.

You know?

My name is Siham Amedy, I was born in Northern Iraq, Kurdistan, and now I live in Moorhead Minnesota and have lived in Moorhead for the last 24 years.

I was born in 1990 in a very picturesque town on the border of Iraq in Turkey.

It's a plateaued mound, it's got mountains cascading all around it.

It's absolutely beautiful.

And that's where my last name comes from, Amedi, Amedia.

I have 4 younger siblings, I was 6 years old, and my mom was pregnant, and we were a part of the wave called Operation Pacific Haven that the US did which was about 6000 Kurds being transported from Kurdistan Iraq through Turkey and then to Guam for 6 months.

We came to Fargo March of 1997, and it's hard.

My dad did work at a lot of different things but he became really frustrated because he was supposed to work, he was supposed to take care of his family, he was supposed to learn the language, and he felt he had no support.

I knew I had to work really hard in school even not having the support at home.

I didn't have parents that could help me with homework.

I had to help my siblings with homework I started to do very well, you had to turn to that.

As soon as I became proficient in the language, I was helping my parents with paperwork going to employers with my dad and just doing that.

I was absolutely terrified, I mean, at this point I was the oldest of 5 children and just really became that person for my family that did everything.

So a lot of responsibility was shouldered on me, and there's a running joke now as you reflect on it and think about the immigrant's experience especially when it comes to women and daughters it's so stressful, it's like-- are you happy, or are you the oldest of an immigrant family?

I stretched myself too thin.

I had the cultural expectations of helping people.

I tried to integrate into society.

I tried to do well and work.

And it really took a toll on me.

The fact that I went from my parents surviving, surviving to rising to a college graduate from a highly challenging institution was a miracle.

I was born 3000 miles away on the mountain that nobody's ever heard of, and now I'm in the Great Plains.

[laughs] And so I don't know what tomorrow will bring.

My name is Cani Adan, and I am from Somalia.

I flee from my country because of a threat to myself.

In Somalia I came from a small city called Hudur.

I was working at a nonprofit organization back home called CPHR Centre for Peace and Human Rights.

I was advocating how to go to school and empowering also women.

There was an extremist organization in our area called Al-Shabaab; they didn't like what I was doing.

When the threat come to my way, and a lot of my friends get killed, we did not prepare a lot.

Actually we had not been thinking about America then, we had been thinking in Europe-- somewhere that we'd come-- have peace.

And we just made a deal with someone-- just want to be out, we just want to be safe.

Right?

Then I come to a neighbor country called Kenya.

I spent 4 months in Kenya.

Then I come to Latin America in Brazil.

Then from Brazil I went through to Columbia, the Colombian jungle, I was in 4 nights and 4 days walking the Colombian jungle.

Then on my way to Panama, then Panama to Costa Rica Costa Rica to Nicaragua, Honduras, and El Salvador, Mexico, Texas.

So yes, I was one of those who came in the country as illegal, and I've been waiting to get my asylum approved since 2015.

And I just get approved.

2024.

I am a man of work, I really want to help people around me.

I want to feel that my time, my ability, my energy is fruitful for the people that I live with.

Now I am a founder of Rural Midwest, it's another organization.

Also I am the District Liaison for Moorhead Area Public Schools.

Fargo Moorhead is home now-- this is my home.

My family is here, I am here.

I found this area, community that loves one another People that come together, one another.

It doesn't matter where you come from, who you are-- we all come together in the streets, parks, celebrating for our differences in cultural events and all that.

So I believe I found...

I found a new home.

My name is Hashim Goran, I live in Moorhead, Minnesota since 2012.

I was born and raised in a small town a couple miles north of Erbil City which is the capitol of the Kurdistan region of Iraq; that was back in 1981.

But in 2003 and 2004 I tried hard to learn English, and in 2005 I started a job with the U.S. Army as a translator.

We were kind of experiencing sniper attacks, mortar attacks, IED explosives, and even suicidal bombs.

It was tough experience that we went through, but I'm proud that I could do something to help rebuild Iraq after removing the former regime.

In 2012 as a privilege of what we have done I was offered a special immigrant visa for myself and my family.

My wife, my 2 young children, oldest was 3 years, youngest was 3 months, and I were moved to Moorhead, Minnesota In 2012.

Of course, it's not easy when you move to different country, different cultures-- everything was different around us-- the language is different, the people are different.

Getting a job was not easy for me despite the experiences that I had, But later on I was able to continue with my education.

Right now I'm a MFIB job counselor with rural Minnesota CEP/Career Force in Moorhead.

Also I've been helping my community and whoever needed help with whatever I could.

To be honest if not because of the war and some other problems that Iraq went through, living in Iraqwas easier.

You know, the way of life, but it's not safe.

I'm glad that we chose a safer area for our kids.

My kids and my family have a better future living here away from those that-- those experiences that I went through in Iraq.

My name is Azad Berwari, and I live in Moorhead, Minnesota.

I'm from Kurdistan which would be northern Iraq.

I was a heavy reader back home, and it was a dangerous thing in Saddam's era.

I always had a dream about studying at an American university.

It was like as if you say next week I'm going to be on Mars.

It's, of course, impossible.

It wasn't a choice-- when we fled Iraq And we were in refugee camps in Turkey and after interviews with the United Nations They assigned us to the front lists, and I became a refugee in Sweden.

So after I came to Sweden, and I became a Swedish citizen.

I could get student loan for studying abroad.

So I came to the United States as an international student in '98.

Then I came to NDSU.

I get a Bachelor and a Master's of Sociology and a doctoral degree in emergency management.

I have one child, a 15-year-old child.

I try to do my best to raise her to be bilingual, bicultural, because it's a great strength.

Home is something that where you grew up, you internalize social values, cultural values, what's right, what's wrong, what's rewarded, what's sanctioned.

And you grow up with those dreams.

And when I was a teenager Saddam's forces pulled us out of our homes and burned the village in front of us.

So for me home is burned-- doesn't exist anymore.

For us, many people like me, I have many homes-- I had a home in Sweden, I had a home at NDSU, I have a home where I live now, but it's never that home.

That was burned.

So I do my best to give that peaceful environment for my daughter to grow up in it and have her dreams come true-- hopefully.

[piano plays softly] (woman) Funded by Minnesota Arts and Cultural Heritage Fund with money from the vote of the people of Minnesota on November 4, 2008. and by the members of Prairie Public.