Part II: I worked at a Safe Haven during Operation Allies Welcome. IRC’s failures endangered thousands of vulnerable refugees

(IRC Staff Experience — continued)

In late 2021, I was hired to work at a Safe Haven as part of Operation Allies Welcome (OAW). The federal government had appointed IRC to manage the resettlement process for newly-arrived Afghan refugees. My job was to engage with these “guests” living at the military base, pending permanent resettlement to various communities around the country. Having worked at a different base during the early days of the mission, I was looking forward to this role.

I was born in Afghanistan and speak Pashto and Dari fluently, which became invaluable in my role. I understood these people, their hopes and challenges. I also had a 10-year background relevant to this position. In short: I was uniquely qualified for the role. When I arrived on base, it became clear that this carried little value.

I quickly discovered that IRC operates differently than what you’d expect of an international aid organization. I expected a base level of cultural competency and prioritization of safeguarding protocols. Imagine my absolute shock when I came across blatant racism from the top-down, incompetence and cronyism run amok and complete disrespect for the Afghan staff and the refugees.

Afghan women were trafficked on IRC’s watch and people with severe medical conditions didn’t have their cases elevated, resulting in at least one death. The miscarriage rate was alarmingly high and guests came to us frequently in mental health crises. The protection officer ignored their suicide threats and young women were put in danger and resettled away from their families (against their wishes). It was a shock to my system and when I raised the alarm one too many times, I was sent home. To this day, no one at IRC has been held accountable. That needs to change.

Part II

COVID-19 outbreak

When IRC hired me, I was required to be fully vaccinated to work on base. I got my third vaccination shot two days before I arrived in Wisconsin, but IRC never requested proof. I later learned that the majority of IRC staff were not vaccinated. Many didn’t even wear masks. Inevitably, this led to a massive COVID-19 outbreak in our office and spread throughout the base. It also led to delays in guests’ departure.

I came to work one day and out of the 90 or so staffers, only five people showed up. Everyone else was in quarantine due to testing positive or being exposed to others who had — including our protection officer, who was now even less capable of doing his job than before. This serious protocol violation resulted from IRC leadership not enforcing rules. Yet, they continued to behave recklessly and dishonestly.

IRC had signed a contract with the IHG Army hotel on base, which required them to report any positive COVID-19 test results. They were also required to move any staffers who tested positive off-base for quarantine. The IRC site lead instead told us all to keep it quiet — don’t tell the hotel staff anyone is sick, let alone in quarantine. They wanted to avoid the hassle of moving people to an off-base hotel, thus endangering the hotel staff and government employees staying at the property.

Interpreters were not language tested

Among the various issues I uncovered during my tenure, this one was one of the most harmful and egregious: Most interpreters had not been language tested before hiring. This led to an avalanche of problems. I was told routinely by the guests that “We just want to speak with someone who understands us.”

Several interpreters had lied about being fluent in both Pashto and Dari. A few had a poor grasp of English. Translation errors led to misinformation and distress among the guests. People made life-altering decisions based on what the staff told them. When I learned that one interpreter didn’t seem to have a basic understanding of English, I flagged it for several superiors and was once again ignored.

The HR lead claimed she fired him, but the interpreter company sent him back. She took no action to have him removed again, nor did she communicate with the interpreter company about why he was sent back to base.

I was told by one interpreter that her “language test” consisted of being asked to say “Hello, my name is __. How are you doing” in Pashto. The proctor asked her if she spoke Dari and she told him she did not. He wrote down that she did anyway and told her, “That’s ok. As long as you can say ‘hi’ in Dari we’ll just put you down as fluent.”

None of this was addressed by the site lead when I submitted a report outlining this serious issue. Our site lead had checked out and expressed zero interest in making changes or holding people accountable.

A lack of cultural competency

In the midst of this chaos, I was tasked with conducting a tone-deaf guest survey. It was clear whoever wrote the questions had no grasp of Afghan culture. I raised these issues with the technical advisor, who dismissed my concerns and said, “Just ask them anyway.”

What were the offending questions? For starters, there was one about access to information. “Which group has the least access to information? Members of the LGBTQ community? Minorities like Hazara women?” The problem with this line of questioning was that there is no term for “LGBTQ community” in Pashto or Dari. In fact, there is no LGBTQ community — sexuality is a very private matter and people are generally not “out.” Even members of the LGBTQ community would likely feel uncomfortable answering this question and inadvertently outing themselves.

Second, the assumption that minority groups would have limited access to information was misguided. Most people received information from their phones. The base had WiFi tents and most Hazaras (minorities in Afghanistan) came from cities and were quite modern, many of them possessing cellphones. In fact, the Hazara women were mostly college students and single women traveling alone.

They were generally educated and much more liberal than their Pashtun counterparts. A large group had received full scholarships to schools like Brown, Yale and the University of Arizona, which chartered a private plane for them and gifted them with goodie bags when they left base.

Meanwhile, the more conservative and rural Pashtun women were mostly illiterate, refused to leave their barracks without proper coverings, and had no phone access. Their kids didn’t attend classes at the makeshift school because the instructors were Dari-speaking and couldn’t communicate with them. If anyone was at a disadvantage, it was the Pashtuns.

To form the question in this manner and demand I ask it was incredibly insensitive and ignorant. The question was posed through the lens of the American experience with race and my attempts to rectify this were dismissed.

Discriminatory behavior towards POC staff was the norm

“If there’s any physical labor to be done, it’s going to be the interpreters (i.e., Afghans) doing it.” I heard that early on and it became the norm. Afghan staff were treated in a condescending manner, by some generalists and the admin staff as well.

It became common practice to treat the Afghans like interns, demanding they drive people around, hand out fliers in below-zero weather and do whatever manual labor needed to be done. It was incredibly insulting, racist and continued unchecked.

The HR Lead famously referred to male interpreters as “those guys” and frequently made nasty and racist remarks about them.

At one point, our site lead did a presentation on sexual harassment. She turned around in the direction of the interpreters and stated, “This behavior is wrong. It might be acceptable in your culture, but it’s not in this one.” I reported this to our technical advisor, pointing out how offensive it was for her to single out the interpreters and frame her statement this way. The program manager told me she’d speak with the site lead, but weeks later, she still hadn’t done so.

I was largely immune to this racist behavior until a new site lead came onboard. Because my role required me to drive around the base, attending inter-departmental meetings and engage with guests, I had my own rental vehicle.

When the new site lead came onboard, she determined that I wasn’t “giving enough rides” to my colleagues. I explained that the nature of my job required me to spend a lot of time away from the office, but I gave rides when I could. I found it odd that I was being singled out like this.

A few weeks prior, she had reviewed the driving logs and announced during an after-hours meeting that the generalists (mostly white) gave the least rides, while the interpreters logged the most driving time. Was anything done to rectify it? No. The only person who had their driving privileges reduced was me — for doing my job rather than driving people around on errands.

She added a female interpreter to my car and told her explicitly, “Make sure you take the keys and give as many rides as possible.” This interpreter was then sent on airport runs, despite the fact that we had a shortage of female interpreters. Not to mention, this bizarre request undermined my ability to do my job.

The site lead became hostile when I pointed this out to her. When I explained to the interpreters that this was outside of their job duties and their priority should be interpreting, they were afraid that speaking out would get them in trouble. They were right about that.

This is Part II of an IRC Staff Experience. Read Part I and follow @RACISTorg on Twitter to read Part III which will be published later this week.