I Against I

Amal adds, “You know, we have not had an easy life either. We’ve seen dead people. We’ve seen people starving. We’ve lived in camps and been separated from our families. It’s been very hard. But we’re here now and we have to do the best we can.” The slender 18-year-old senior speaks with a serious intensity. She frowns through a lot of our conversation and mentions more than once that the mentally ill Somali man who was shot by police in South Minneapolis in early March lived in her building. “I can’t believe they killed him. We came to this country to be safe from killing.”

Relations between Somalis and African-American students need to improve. But they worry that more discussion will only exacerbate the conflict. It’s hard, they say, to talk about differences and come together at the same time. Besides, all cultural groups clash from time to time. “It’s normal,” Amal says, slipping a few stray strands of dark hair up under the edge of her scarf.

One Somali boy wonders aloud whether so much attention is paid to their feuds because they are black. “It seems like that’s the way things are here. Police stop black people on the street. Black people have trouble getting jobs. We are always being treated as if we have done something wrong. Our experience is the same now in that way.” No one really responds to his comment. He’s far more Americanized than the others, and his insight about America goes with his high level of assimilation. It isn’t something the others can really relate to. Not yet. He’s been in the U.S. longer than many of his peers. His accent is barely detectable and he says he feels bad about that because he is a Somali and he doesn’t want to lose that identity.

“The realization of African-American indifference to African realities was disappointing and jarring to me at first, but I eventually came to accept that I could not expect black Americans to automatically share African passions for African struggles. I resolved to encourage those black Americans I met who were interested in Africa but was no longer surprised when many were not. And I came to understand that much of the time, on politics as on many things, African-Americans and Africans had entirely different perspectives.”
—Philippe Wamba

Roosevelt’s student population has changed dramatically over the past dozen years. When it opened in 1922, and for decades thereafter, the bulk of the school’s students were Norwegian kids from working-class families living nearby. Today, at around 500 students, Somalis are the largest population. That’s partly because Roosevelt has been designated by the school district as the site that offers bilingual education to Somali students. It’s hard to say just how many Somalis have settled in Minnesota, but estimates range from 3,000 to 50,000.

African-Americans are the next largest group at Roosevelt, with a population about half that of the Somalis. Some students believe that disparity is part of the reason for the friction between the two groups. “Sometimes it feels like they’re overrunning the school,” says Tim, an 18-year-old Unity member. “African-Americans feel like we’ve definitely lost ground since they came here.” To make matters worse, he adds, many Somali boys only add to existing tension by imitating African-Americans. “They’re trying to be the same as us but they aren’t.” In some cases, they mimic the peculiar styles and gestures of gangs, and that gets them into trouble.

“They’re just trying to fit in, I think,” says Abdi, whose white V-neck sweater and slacks instantly mark him as an immigrant. “They try to wear the clothes and talk like [African-Americans], but then they wear the colors and that causes problems.” Abdi hasn’t tried to affiliate with any gangs, but he can understand why some Somali boys do. “When they dress in colors some of them think they will be accepted. But they don’t really know what they’re doing and then it’s too late. They’re in a fight.”

Even though it’s hard to know how to ask questions about someone’s culture, it’s better to just ask them, according to Amal. Because knowing the truth might keep people from saying things that are hurtful or rude. “Like, for example, we pray in the afternoon each day. Before that we go into the bathroom to wash our hands, faces, and feet. And people will look at us or laugh because they don’t understand.”
“They say things like, ‘Oh their feet stink and that’s why they are washing them,’” says Fartun, a straight-talker who interjects her opinion sparingly. She laughs when relating some of these things. But it’s clear that some of it still stings.

“Some people will never understand,” she adds. “They won’t change.” Unlike Amal, Fartun wears the traditional long black scarf over her hair, a long-sleeved blouse, and a skirt that touches the tops of her shoes.