- My name is Siham Amedy.

I was born in northern Iraq, Kurdistan, and now I live in Moorhead, Minnesota, and I have lived in Moorhead for the last 24 years.

So, I was born in 1990, in a very picturesque town on the border of Iraq and Turkey.

It's a plateaued mountain.

It's got mountains cascading all around it.

It's absolutely beautiful.

And that's where my last name comes from, Amedy, Amedi.

The town I was from, everybody knew each other.

You walked up and down.

It was in a village.

There was a lot of support.

Everybody knew each other, it was really centered around community.

I was the first born, so I was very loved.

However, I do remember extreme poverty, as well.

My dad couldn't find work.

As beautiful as where we lived was, as amazing as the mountains in the area was, because of the sanctions imposed in Iraq, it was just very difficult to live.

When my dad made the decision and got his case approved to come to the US, I was six.

At this point, I had four younger siblings, I was six years old and my mom was pregnant, and we were a part of the wave called Operation Pacific Haven that the US did, which was about 6,000 Kurds being transported from Kurdistan, Iraq, through Turkey, and then to Guam for six months.

We celebrated weddings, we wore our traditional clothes, we celebrated everything.

We became so close to the people in Guam and they were coming to Fargo that we were too scared to come alone, and my dad asked if we could be resettled in Fargo.

We came to Fargo March of 1997, and it was hard.

My dad did work at a lot of different things, but he became really frustrated because he was supposed to work.

He was supposed to take care of the family.

He was supposed to learn the language, and he felt like he had no support.

And living in North Dakota at that time, there was not a lot of support.

So, in 1999, my dad made the decision to move to Minnesota where there was a lot more support for families.

And, so, we lived in a neighborhood, again, with lots of different immigrant families and became really close-knit.

I knew I had to work really hard in school, even, you know, not having the support at home, I didn't have parents that could help me with homework.

I had to help my siblings with homework.

I started to do very well and knew I had to turn to that.

As soon as I became proficient in the language, I was helping my parents with paperwork, going to employers with my dad and just doing that.

I was absolutely terrified.

I mean, at this point, I was the oldest of five children.

I just really became that person for my family that did everything.

So, a lot of responsibility was shouldered on me and there's a running joke now as we reflect on it and think about the immigrant experience, especially when it comes to women and daughters, it's so stressful.

It's, like, are you happy or are you the oldest of an immigrant family?

I stretched myself too thin.

I had the cultural expectations of helping people.

I tried to integrate into society.

I had to try to do well and work, and it really took a toll on me.

The fact that I went from my parents surviving, surviving, surviving, to a college graduate from a highly-challenging institution was a miracle.

I'm grateful.

I'm grateful for the opportunities that they did come my way, they were challenging.

I'm grateful for the support.

(gentle music) I'm grateful to have been, you know, somewhat of a trailblazer, to put myself out there, to be involved not only in my own community, but the greater community.

To be outspoken, especially when it comes to human rights' things because of my own experience.

I was born 3,000 miles away on a mountain that nobody's ever heard of.

And now I'm in the Great Plains.

(laughs) And, so, I don't know what tomorrow will bring, so.

(gentle music continues) - [Narrator] Funded by the Minnesota Arts and Cultural Heritage Fund with money from the vote of the people of Minnesota on November 4th, 2008, and by the members of Prairie Public.