What American Freedom Means to a Refugee From Iraq at a Time of Protests and Pandemic
This piece was originally published in the Chicago Sun-Times.
In May 2016, I fled a dangerous civil war in my native Iraq, leaving behind my friends and family in Mosul, my university appointment and my dental practice.
There was terror in my heart as I looked at my two young sons on the flight to Chicago. How would they adjust to a new culture when they didn’t even speak English? Would I still be able to work as a dentist? Would people treat us differently because we are Muslim?
Four years later, my fears have been put to rest. My boys are thriving at school and speak perfect English. I’m a dentist serving African American patients on the South Side. As a religious minority, I have always been shown respect here.
Today, as I study to be a citizen of the United States, I am thinking more about what it means to be an American, especially when my new country is experiencing such turmoil.
One of my favorite subjects in American history is the story of Abraham Lincoln and his belief that all people are created equal. I am proud to see so many people across the country marching to protest the murder of George Floyd and other Black men and women. I am honored that I will pledge allegiance to a nation that supports freedom of speech.
In Iraq, where I experienced dictatorship, injustice and fear for my family’s basic physical safety, there was little respect for human life or different beliefs. There was no ability to protest the government or demand accountability from the police. If you dared to express your opinions, you could put yourself or your family in danger.
I am grateful to belong to a country where we are truly free. So many refugees share this experience of feeling welcomed and included. It’s why we have devoted ourselves to serving others.
There are 161,000 refugees working in healthcare — it’s our second most popular profession. More than 8% of us are physicians, 14% are registered nurses, and more than 11% are nursing assistants, according to New American Economy. More than 175,000 refugees also do important work in our country’s food supply chain, especially in Midwestern processing plants, where COVID-19 cases have been extremely high.
I have also been doing my part to keep my fellow Chicagoans healthy. Keeping my dental clinic open has given me the opportunity to contribute during such a critical time. It’s an incredibly rewarding feeling to relieve someone’s suffering during this crisis, especially when a patient comes to the office after staying up all night long from an agonizing toothache.
I worked hard to be able to practice dentistry here. I had to take new exams and complete a new residency, even though I was in my middle 30s, and my colleagues were a decade younger. This determination is a common theme among my fellow refugees.
I understand that people are feeling especially critical of America right now. But I hope we can still celebrate what’s best about Americans, whether we are taking care of sick patients, fighting for racial justice, helping neighbors with groceries or simply showing each other respect by wearing masks.
The longer I get to know my new home, the prouder I am to have the opportunity to call myself an American.
Raed Ayoub AlDelayme is a refugee from Iraq and a dentist practicing in Chicago.