Everett’s Iraqi community faces uncertain future after travel ban

EVERETT — A group of about 15 women gathered in the Pineview Community Center in south Everett last week to talk.

About two-thirds of the group were young women originally from Iraq, many now U.S. citizens. They wore vibrant hijabs and spoke English without accents. Several young children either played in the back room or napped on the couches.

The women had a lot to vent about.

Former President Barack Obama “made me feel so empowered,” said Ressel Al-Maamar, one of the Iraqi moms. “There was so much love and compassion that was sent out, and then, this.”

“This” was President Donald Trump’s executive order that barred citizens and refugees from seven Muslim-majority nations, including Iraq, from coming to the U.S. The order led to chaos at airports as people were turned back at immigration checkpoints across the country.

The executive order was blocked by a federal judge in Seattle on Friday. On Tuesday, a panel of 9th Circuit appellate judges listened to arguments over whether the judge’s ruling should be allowed to stand.

Like Muslims across the U.S., the Iraqi community in Everett has had to confront the threat of deportations, families being separated and uncertainty over whether a visa or green card will be honored at the border.

Several women, all born in the U.S. and not of Iraqi heritage, came to the community center to show their support.

“There’s a lot of people wanting to do something but they don’t know what. But conversation is a part of it,” said Wendy McClure, an Everett resident who dropped by after work.

The large demonstrations in support of immigrants at airports and in many cities across the country also had an impact.

“Trump did a favor for everybody,” said Shaema Al-Maly, who left Iraq as a child and is now a U.S. citizen. “Now people come to us and say, ‘We love you.’”

The women also aired their frustration that the countries named in the executive order were not the source of the Sept. 11, 2001, hijackers or any other terrorists who’ve launched attacks in the U.S. They lamented misconceptions about the Obama administration’s 2011 security measures that slowed down admissions from Iraq, and they took issue with the belief that wearing a hijab is a sign that they are being repressed.

“No one should think this was forced on us,” said Dwaa Al-Rubaie, grabbing the end of her pink hijab.

They also are concerned about Iraq, a place that no longer feels like home after having been raised in America.

“Our thoughts, our dreams, everything we say is in English,” Al-Rubaie said. “Our parents taught us Arabic so we could have a second language. You go back to Iraq and you’re a foreigner there.”

And once people there hear their American accents, “the shops immediately raise their prices,” Al-Maamar joked.

Conversation also shifted to the people traveling overseas as the fate of the executive order has played out in the courts. The women swapped stories they knew or had read. Some people have returned to the U.S. Others have not made it back.

The federal government has said between 60,000-100,000 people were directly affected by Trump’s executive order, either turned back at the border, had their visas canceled, or were otherwise being directly impacted.

One of those is Al-Maamar’s brother, Moslem, who was traveling in Iraq when the ban came down. Her brother is a U.S. citizen, but he called his sister to ask if she knew if he’d be allowed back into the country.

“I’m sitting here trying to ease him, but deep down, I don’t know,” Al-Maamar said.

Noral Al-Maly, also a U.S. citizen, said her husband is in a similar situation without even leaving America. He’s been in the country for five years, has a green card and applied for citizenship a year ago.

“I always call Immigration and they’re always delaying,” she said. They tell her naturalization is a long process, which she said she understands even if it doesn’t bring her comfort.

“It’s scary even for us as Americans,” she said.

Noral Al-Maly’s family includes her parents and seven siblings, six of whom live in Everett. The seventh, her brother Rahman, went back to Iraq by choice to be with his wife and her family.

“He’s fine,” said Doaa Al-Maly, another of the sisters, adding: “I wouldn’t risk it.”

All of the Al-Malys arrived as children and are now citizens, many with kids of their own. The youngest, Sarah, was born in the U.S. and has never been to Iraq.

One of their neighbors, a more recent arrival, is less fortunate.

Hameed Al-Shatee ran a contracting company in Iraq, working with the U.S. forces and government there.

He started receiving threats while he was traveling outside Iraq and decided he couldn’t return. He was granted asylum in the U.S. a year ago.

His wife and six children are still in Iraq, however. Their visa applications were accepted in October, but they haven’t received the actual visas yet.

“I’m waiting for word every day,” he said, with Mohammed Al-Maly interpreting for him. “They haven’t heard anything.”

Even Al-Shatee’s immigration lawyer didn’t have any advice, advising him to wait and see how the executive order is interpreted. “Nothing is clear,” the lawyer wrote him in an email.

“He just felt that because he worked with the Americans, they would help him,” Mohammed Al-Maly explained. “I don’t know what I’d do in his situation.”

Another visitor at the Al-Maly home that night was Ibrahim El-Ghezi, the Iraq-born imam of the Al-Mustafa Center in Marysville.

With the Al-Maly siblings taking turns interpreting, El-Ghezi said he’s felt welcome since he arrived two years ago from Lebanon. He left Iraq in the 1980s.

The Marysville mosque received a supportive letter from neighbors expressing their sorrow at the presidential election results, El-Ghezi said. People from local Christian churches later came by to wish everyone at the mosque a merry Christmas.

“Everything that’s been going on, it’s been beautiful. I feel safe,” El-Ghezi said.

But even the imam is cautious. He and his wife, both green card holders, canceled a trip to visit family in Canada for fear they would not be allowed back into the U.S.

It’s different in Iraq, he said, where Christians and Shia Muslims face a common enemy in ISIS.

“We’re all victims of terrorism,” El-Ghezi said.

Mohammed Al-Maly also tries to maintain a positive outlook in spite of the ban and other statements from the Trump administration that they consider hostile.

“I also choose not to see the hate in people. It’s just easier to live that way,” he said.

Doaa Al-Maly agreed, saying it was a different situation after the Sept. 11 attacks. The demonstrations in support of immigrants have made all the difference.

“This time it feels like America is with you,” she said.

Chris Winters: 425-374-4165; cwinters@heraldnet.com. Twitter: @Chris_At_Herald.