Aspiring Somali lawyer opens doors

[/ dave /]

[Minnesota now has the largest Somali population in the United States,
estimated to be around 30,000, although the figures tend to vary
considerably owing to the difficulties in counting newer immigrants. (If
it were me guessing, I would definitely up that number.) As an aside,
the number of Minnesotans who identify themselves as Hispanic has
increased almost 170 percent since the 1990 census. I don't know the
national figures for either "group" offhand, but I will say that
Minneapolis is changing/expanding at a fairly astounding rate ethnically
and culturally - a very nice thing to see.]

http://www.startribune.com/stories/462/1629011.html

Aspiring lawyer opens doors to legal rights to Somali community

Kavita Kumar
Star Tribune

Published Feb 16, 2002

It's about 7:15 p.m. on a recent weekday. Hassan Mohamud has just gotten
home after a long day spent dealing with immigration law. He plans to
spend the evening with his wife, Asha; their 1-year-old daughter, Sara,
and the newest addition to their family -- Zuhour, barely a week old --
in their Minneapolis apartment.

A Somali woman who lives in his building knocks on his door. She is
frantic, afraid the landlord will kick her out because of a question
about her Section-8 status. He listens, calms her and tells her to make
an appointment at his office the next day. (He's already booked two
weeks out, but will find some extra time for her.)

Later that evening, a friend, Abdulahi Omar, has a friend who wants
Mohamud's advice about going to law school. The young man arrives at his
door about 9:30 p.m. "We need this guy," Omar says of Mohamud. He adds,
with a smile: "We ask Allah to give him a long life and good health."

Mohamud, 40, is a man in demand these days. He graduated last month from
William Mitchell College of Law. He is, many believe, the first Somali
to earn a degree from a Minnesota law school. And he is helping to swing
open the door to legal rights for Somalis.

For many Somalis, he also is a resolver of disputes, a sealer of
marriages and a shoulder to lean on when they don't understand aspects
of their job, immigration status or housing rights.

He's a cultural broker -- a bridge between the world they know and the
world they're trying to learn. It's a bridge that carries a lot of
weight and responsibility, but one that he knows he can't afford to break.

He knows there is much to do. "I want to bring Somalis to American
culture. We are not guests here anymore. We have to learn about one
another," he said.

Technically, Mohamud won't be an official lawyer until he passes the
Minnesota bar exam, which he plans to take in March and July.

In the meantime, he is a legal assistant at the Legal Aid Society of
Minneapolis. Working on an immigration project, he holds monthly
seminars to educate Somalis about their rights, gives talks to agencies
such as the Immigration and Naturalization Service to teach them about
Somali culture, and does outreach work in Minneapolis high schools.

He has about 175 cases on his desk right now, and more pour in everyday.
Most of his clients are Somalis or other East African immigrants.

Peggy Russell, managing attorney at Legal Aid, said having a Somali
lawyer helps build trust in a community that has mistrust and fear of
the U.S. legal system.

"I think that it really helps a community . . . to make them feel as
though they have a voice," she said. "Some are very hesitant to pursue
legal rights. One, they don't know they have them. And two, they worry
if they complain they will be in bigger trouble."

That Mohamud speaks Somali helps. But more important is his knowledge of
culture and history. And he's able to explain intricate legal issues in
a way his clients understand, Russell said.

His prominence in the community is another plus.

"We have hundreds of people calling us for assistance who probably
wouldn't have because Hassan is in the office," she said. "I feel so
fortunate to have him."

It's Tuesday evening at the Al-Taqwa Mosque in St. Paul, where Mohamud
is an imam, or prayer leader. It's also home to his Somali Families and
Youth Organization, a nonprofit group that he heads.

He sits, bundled in his coat in the chilly office, and holds a two-hour
walk-in clinic offering free legal advice. He asks questions in Somali
of a woman who wants a divorce. He explains her situation to Ken
Gilchrist, a lawyer with Southern Minnesota Regional Legal Services who
advises him.

"It's important to have a Somali attorney," Gilchrist said after the
client leaves. "But more than that, it's important to have one who is
committed to working with his people like he is. We need attorneys who
know the culture and who they can afford."

But some worry that won't always be the case with Mohamud.

"Many people are saying now Hassan will be a rich person, and after two
years he will leave Legal Aid Society and start his own business,"
Mohamud said. "But my goal is not to make money. My goal is to make
justice. And not justice for one group or people of one skin color. But
justice for all people. Like Dr. King's dream."

The son of a doctor and a businesswoman, Mohamud was born in Mogadishu.
He attended Somalia National University, where he majored in civil law.
He then went to Cairo to study at the Institute of Islamic Studies,
where he received a graduate degree in Islamic law in 1989. He was
planning to return to Mogadishu to teach at the university, but the
civil war in his homeland interrupted his plans.

In 1996, he came to Dallas, Texas, as an asylum seeker. The next year he
came to the Twin Cities to work in the St. Paul School District as an
educational assistant and multicultural consultant.

In August 1997, he enrolled as a part-time student at William Mitchell,
financing school through loans, scholarships, and working full time.

Those were rough days for him and his family. Four hours of sleep a
night. Coming home from the library at midnight.

"My family missed me," he said. "They need me now."

His fast-paced life has slowed a bit since graduation, but he's still
very busy -- running from meetings to appointments to prayer services.

"He gives more of his time than any Somali I know," said Abdi-Rahman
Mohamed, one of few Somali doctors in the Twin Cities. "And I've never
heard him complain of how busy he is or of what he is doing."

Mohamud says simply, "If you believe in Allah, you will have enough time
. . . My wife believes the same thing."

-- Kavita Kumar is at kkumar at startribune.com


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/  dave  /