Proud New American
IRC Case Manager Joseph Jok wrote an op-ed titled Proud New American that was published in the San Diego Union Tribune on July 4th. Joseph was asked to write the op-ed after giving a speech at a US Naturalization Ceremony for 1,200 new Americans. At the ceremony, he said, "What I have experienced so far in the United States is that there is no limit to what you can achieve here. With hard work and dedication, abiding by the rule of law, any of your dreams can come true." Read the op-ed piece >

Proud new American

By Joseph Jok

Originally published July 3, 2010 at 6:06 p.m., updated July 4, 2010 at 12:02 a.m.

I come from war-torn Sudan. Currently, Sudan, the 10th-largest country in the world, is at a critical juncture. In January, the Sudanese will decide whether to remain one country or to split into North Sudan and South Sudan.
Nationwide elections were conducted in April but fell short of meeting international standards due to widespread allegations of vote rigging, according the international observers. The results of this referendum will hugely impact the stability of Sudan, and the ability of those displaced and those who were separated from their families to go back.
I am the fourth child among seven from my mother in a polygamous family. I have six other siblings from my father’s second wife. I am the only member with a college degree in my family and one of only two within our entire clan. My father was among the few southern Sudanese who received a formal education, trained as a medical assistant during the British colonial period when the education system was limited to only a few missionary schools. As a result of my father’s job, my family moved frequently from one town to another, and I gained exposure to languages and cultures of tribes and communities different from our own.
My father died when I was 6 years old, a few years after the signing of the Addis Ababa Peace Agreement in 1972 that ended 17 years of the first civil war in the south. My mothers, who are both illiterate, were left with the burden of raising 13 children during a very tumultuous period in Sudan’s history. The peace agreement did not last and by the early 1980s we were engulfed in another brutal war during which existing forms of education in southern Sudan were violently interrupted, over 2 million people killed and 4 million internally displaced or forced to flee to neighboring countries. However, because of my mother’s perseverance and her encouragement that I continue the legacy of my father, even if it meant that I would have to seek formal education in “enemy” territory (northern Sudan) or in a foreign land, I was able to accomplish some of her dreams for me and pursue an education.
However, as the war intensified it was impossible to live in the city; there was violence daily, people were attacked at random. When you went to sleep, you didn’t know if you would wake up alive; at night, the indiscriminate bombardment and shelling would begin. And even if you survived the night, during the day you risked harassment by the security forces. Males as young as 12 years old to those in their 30s were randomly taken from their homes for interrogation, many never to return. It was then I knew I had to leave Sudan. I finally had the opportunity to escape to Egypt in 1989. I spent eight long years without any refugee status in Egypt because the Egyptian government did not consider the Sudanese refugees. However, in 1997, the United Nations granted me refugee status.
Against many odds, I came to the United States with a veterinary degree as a refugee in September 1998 accompanied by my wife and 9 month old son. My expectations were very high when I arrived in San Diego. I had elaborate plans to embark on a program of recertification in veterinary medicine over three years and immediately upon arrival took some practical steps toward this goal. Yet a number of unexpected obstacles I encountered prevented me from following this path, such as family obligations, sending money back home to help those left behind and difficulties finding a job. Ten years later, I have two more children. While I have not been able to pursue veterinary medicine, I work as a case manager at a local nonprofit, the International Rescue Committee, and also as an active Sudanese community organizer.
Both these roles allow me to help refugees. My work with IRC provides me with a wealth of knowledge and passion to serve my community and the wider refugee community with dedication. Providing core services designed to guide a refugee toward self-reliance has been very rewarding for me, especially when I see the smile on refugees’ faces after they have purchased their first car or have taken the oath of citizenship during their naturalization ceremony.
On June 23, I had the proudest moment in my entire life; at a citizenship ceremony, I gave remarks and said the Pledge of Allegiance to the flag of the United States of America. I also feel privileged to be one of the leaders of the Sudanese Diaspora helping with the organization of this relatively new community in the United States. Currently, I serve on the board of the Episcopal Refugee Network. I am also the president of the Kongor Development Association, another nonprofit, self-help organization founded by a group of young Sudanese men and women across several U.S. states seeking to promote development and support for improving the well being of the people of Kongor district in southern Sudan.
My dream is to raise a happy healthy family here in U.S. while making positive contributions to sustainable development in south Sudan whether by providing rural communities with safe drinking water, primary health care and sanitation or engaging in socio- entrepreneurial activities that will improve the livelihood of those communities regardless of outcome of 2011 referendum.

Jok was among approximately 1,000 people from nearly 100 countries who became U.S. citizens at Golden Hall on June 23.