Grand Island program gives immigrants 'crash course' on city, nudges them to run for public office

Ekram Saleh sat in a classroom, surrounded by immigrants from Mexico, Guatemala and Sudan. They listened as the county's election commissioner talked about voting.

Here's how you can register, the commissioner said. Here's who represents your city council district. And also – Hall County needs poll workers to run every election.

Saleh was then a brand-new U.S. citizen, a Sudanese native who didn't know she could serve her new country by being a poll worker.

The next day, she went straight to the Department of Motor Vehicles and signed up as an election volunteer. In her first election, she helped as a poll worker, and voted, too.

That's a story you hear at Elevate Grand Island, a leadership program geared towards this central Nebraska city's growing immigrant population.

Think of Elevate as a crash course in getting to know your city – learning your voting rights, connecting with local nonprofits, meeting first responders and police leaders.

The hope is that it's helping Grand Island's immigrant communities become more engaged, like Saleh did during the 2022 Election. That they'll grow professionally, feel welcome, feel that they belong.

The ultimate goal: That they'll feel emboldened to run for public office, and if elected, help Grand Island's board and councils look more like the city they represent.

Grand Island is now 36% people of color, and 18.5% foreign-born.

The only people of color currently holding any elected office in the city of 52,944 are believed to be two Latino school board members, Eric Garcia-Mendez and Carlos Barcenas, they said, after Sen. Ray Aguilar narrowly lost re-election to the Nebraska legislature.

"It's not rocket science, right? We're just getting people connected and resourced," Garcia-Mendez said. "But it's kind of life-changing for a lot of participants...We are deciding to include and value community members who have historically just been left in the dark."

**

Elevate began when workers at Heartland United Way, sensing a need, asked the Grand Island nonprofit Leadership Unlimited if they could run a new professional development program – a seven-week course tailored to the immigrant experience.

Elevate is free. It provides childcare to make it easier to attend. It's open to any foreign-born Grand Islander, whether they have lived here for three months or 25 years.

The application doesn't ask immigration status.

Potential donors questioned that decision, said Jessica Hendricks, director of Leadership Unlimited.

"We don't ask for any of our other programs," she said. "Why would we ask for this one? Just come as you are. Come learn."

The first cohort started in 2022. Since then, Grand Island residents hailing from 12 countries have participated.

Some of these countries are war-torn and poverty stricken. Some of the participants are caught in immigration red tape and desperate to gain citizenship.

But in this classroom, the outside chaos seems to fade, said Maria Vasquez, the program's director.

On a recent Tuesday, immigrants from Mexico, the Philippines, Somalia and Cuba sit at long classroom tables.

They learn about banking and credit scores. They talk through the details of retirement plans and 401(k)s. They discuss business plans and loan applications, their dreams of starting clothing shops and getting into real estate.

"We are all affected by what's going on outside of those doors, but the moment we come into that room, it's almost like none of that exists," Vasquez said. "We can create our own world where we are kind to each other, we are respectful of each other's cultures."

When they finish the program, participants get a $1,000 scholarship to use on professional development.

"We've had people ask, 'Well, can I put this towards my kids' college?'" Hendricks said. "No. It's not for them. It's for you."

One participant, a doctor in his home country, used the money to complete medical certifications in the U.S.

Another, a school cafeteria worker, finished her business degree.

Now she works at the bank, teaching finance classes in Spanish.

**

Elevate Grand Island always starts with a history lesson.

"This place...has always been inhabited by immigrants," said Chris Hochstetler, director of the Stuhr Museum. "And that seems to be forgotten."

Hochstetler takes each class as far back as the region's first inhabitants – the Pawnee, who migrated here from the Mississippi River Valley.

He talks about the German settlers who founded Grand Island. Then waves of Latino and Japanese immigrants, pulled here by the railroad and sugar beet factories. The museum has records of ranching cowboys from Senegal.

"It's not like people just came here by accident. They were actively recruited across the world to...work those blue collar jobs," Hochstetler said. "I tell them a bit about that story so that folks can understand that this is...something that has been going on in our community since 1857."

Hochstetler's history lesson often brings participants to tears.

"When you come here from another country, you don't feel a part of the (new) country," said Melissa Zurcher, an immigrant from Mexico. "That first presentation...touched my heart. You feel like, 'I'm a part of something.'"

Carlos Barcenas, a Grand Island Public Schools school board member, said it sometimes takes decades for an immigrant to feel confident enough to start participating in the city's civic and political life. Barcenas came to Grand Island as a first-generation immigrant from Mexico 30 years ago.

He senses the city changing. More bilingual people are serving on boards. More first- or second-generation immigrants are involved in schools, nonprofits and volunteer committees.

"They're there," Barcenas said. "It's just not such a public position."

Hendricks hopes Elevate participants will also run for public office one day.

Grand Island doesn't track the racial identity of city council members. But a review of council rosters since 1998 shows only one Latino member – Jose Zapata – besides Aguilar's short council stint when appointed in 1996.

Aguilar was also Grand Island's first and thus far only Latino state senator. He served 15 years in the legislature before being ousted this fall by Dan Quick, a Democrat. Aguilar couldn't be reached for comment.

In Grand Island Public Schools – a district that's 67% students of color – there are two Latino members on a nine-member board.

Barcenas was the first Latino elected to that board in 2012, he said. Garcia-Mendez, the child of Guatemalan and Mexican immigrants, became the second.

Garcia-Mendez said Spanish-speaking parents are more comfortable seeking help from a board member who speaks Spanish. They're often surprised to see a young Latino man on the board, he said.

"As a board member, do I represent only my Mexican immigrants? I don't. I represent the people in my ward," Barcenas said. "It goes beyond ethnicity...It's a line of having a diversity of thought, having intercultural competence. And just knowing who's in your community."

But hurdles like language barriers can keep first-generation immigrants from running for office, he said. The time commitment for little pay can deter working parents from running as well.

Grand Island reflects national trends – a Harvard University study this year found people of color drastically underrepresented in local government.

"We're really trying to empower and build leaders in our community that come from all over," Vasquez said.

So far, no Elevate participants have run for office. But they've been inspired in other ways.

Since participating in Elevate, Zurcher started her own business, and a storefront selling charcuterie boards and sandwiches. She wants to create flexible jobs for other moms with small kids.

Naily Mhadji-Issa came to Nebraska feeling isolated, far from her home in France. Elevate helped her meet other immigrant moms. Now she and 15 African moms meet every month. She's on multiple boards. She tells everyone they should apply for Elevate.

"Even the cashier at Walmart," she said. "It should be mandatory. Everybody should do that when you come to America."

Saleh has now volunteered as a poll worker in three elections. She helps translate for Arabic speakers, and tells her friends, go vote, I'll be there. I can help.

"I don't know what I would do if you weren't here," one voter told her.

She's convinced three other friends, all Sudanese, to volunteer at the polls.

And she's not sure when. But one day she wants to run for office.