Latest news with #SyrianAmerican
Yahoo
5 days ago
- Politics
- Yahoo
Barabak: As Trump fights diversity, this Black lawmaker is making history in Marin County
It's hard to miss Brian Colbert. It's not just his burly 6-foot-4 frame, his clean-shaven head or the boldly patterned, brightly colored Hawaiian shirts he's adopted as an unofficial uniform. Colbert is one of just a small number of Black people who live in wealthy, woodsy and very white Marin County — and the first Black supervisor elected since the county's founding more than 175 years ago. He didn't lean into race, or history, as he campaigned in the fall. He didn't have to. "As a large Black man," he said, his physicality and the barrier-breaking nature of his candidacy were self-evident. Rather, Colbert won after knocking, by his count, on 20,000 doors, wearing out several pairs of size 15 shoes and putting parochial concerns, such as wildfire prevention, disaster preparedness and flood control, at the center of his campaign. He continues, during these early months in office, to focus on a garden variety of municipal issues: housing, traffic, making local government more accessible and responsive. That's not to say, however, that Colbert doesn't have deeply felt thoughts on the precedent his election set, or the significance of the lived experience he brings to office — different from most in this privileged slice of the San Francisco Bay Area — at a time President Trump is turning his back on civil rights and his administration treats diversity, equity and inclusion as though they were four-letter words. Read more: Civil rights enforcement in schools is uncertain as Trump slashes education department "I think of the challenges, the indignities that my grandparents suffered on a daily basis" living under Jim Crow, Colbert said over lunch recently in his hometown of San Anselmo. He carefully chose his words, at one point resting an index finger on his temple to signal a pause as he gathered his thoughts. Colbert recalled visits to Savannah, Ga., where he attended Baptist church services with his mother's parents. "I remember looking at the faces," Colbert said, "and to me they were the faces of African Americans waiting for death, because they were aware and knew of the opportunities that had been denied to them simply because of the color of their skin. But what gave them hope was the belief their kids and grandkids would have a better life. I am a product of that hope, in so many ways." Colbert, 57, grew up in Bethel, Conn., about 60 miles northeast of New York City. Residents tried to prevent his parents — an accountant and a stay-at-home mom — from moving into the overwhelmingly white community. Neighbors circulated a petition urging the owners to not sell their home to the Black couple. They did so anyway. Colbert went on to earn degrees in political science and acting, public policy and law. He traveled the world with his wife, a Syrian American, practiced law on Wall Street, ran a chocolate company and a small tech firm. He lived for 3½ years in Turkey, where he taught international law and political science at a private university. In 2007, when the couple returned to the U.S., they set their sights on the Bay Area, drawn by the weather, the natural beauty and the entrepreneurial spirit that drew countless opportunity seekers before them. (Colbert started wearing Hawaiian shirts on the Silicon Valley conference circuit, after being mistaken one too many times for a security guard.) In 2013, Colbert, his wife and their daughter settled in San Anselmo, a charmy tree-lined community about 15 miles north of the Golden Gate Bridge. The relatively short commute to San Francisco, where he manages a medical concierge service, the quality schools and the vast open space were big attractions — though Colbert knew he and his family would stand out, just as he had in Bethel. San Anselmo, with its rugged hillsides and red-brick downtown, has about 13,000 residents. The Black population is less than 2%. But Colbert's extensive travels and life overseas convinced him that people "on a certain level [are] the same" everywhere — "warm, welcoming, kind, generous, helpful." He had an abiding interest in policy and public service, so in 2013 Colbert joined the city's Economic Development Council. Four years later, he was elected to the Town Council. He served seven years, one in the rotating position of mayor, before running for the nonpartisan Board of Supervisors. Inevitably, he encountered racism along the way. There were threatening phone calls and emails. He got the occasional side-eye as he canvassed door-to-door in all-white neighborhoods. For the most part, however, "people were incredibly pleasant" and campaigning "was no more challenging ... than it would be [for] any candidate." On a recent sunny afternoon, Colbert was greeted heartily — "Hey, Brian!" "Hey, supervisor!" — as he strode past Town Hall to Imagination Park, a gift the city's most famous resident, filmmaker George Lucas, bequeathed along with life-sized statues of Yoda and Indiana Jones. Read more: Barabak: Yelling, finger-pointing and cursing galore as California Democrats gather near Disneyland These are fraught times. The reckoning that followed the murder of George Floyd has given way to a backlash and a president who disdains efforts at equality, complains of anti-white prejudice and purges powerful Black men and women in the name of a mythical colorblind society. Given a chance to speak directly to Trump, what would Colbert — a Democrat — say? "Mr. President, thank you for your service," he began. "Being in public offices is hard and difficult." He paused. Several beats passed. A waiter cleared away dishes. "I would encourage you to change your tone, certainly publicly, and broaden your perspective and embrace those who might have a different perspective than you," Colbert went on. "Many people have come to this country and they've added value. They've made this country for the better. "Remember those who don't necessarily have easy access to power. Remember those who are struggling. Focus on those who are most vulnerable and are highly dependent on the government to help them through a short amount of time. I mean, the American experiment is incredible. Keep that in mind. A little empathy. Simple acts of kindness. Place yourself into someone else's shoes. "Thank you, Mr. President." Get the latest from Mark Z. BarabakFocusing on politics out West, from the Golden Gate to the U.S. me up. This story originally appeared in Los Angeles Times.
Los Angeles Times
5 days ago
- Politics
- Los Angeles Times
As Trump fights diversity, this Black lawmaker is making history in Marin County
SAN ANSELMO, Calif. — It's hard to miss Brian Colbert. It's not just his burly 6-foot-4 frame, his clean-shaven head or the boldly patterned, brightly colored Hawaiian shirts he's adopted as an unofficial uniform. Colbert is one of just a small number of Black people who live in wealthy, woodsy and very white Marin County — and the first Black supervisor elected since the county's founding more than 175 years ago. He didn't lean into race, or history, as he campaigned in the fall. He didn't have to. 'As a large Black man,' he said, his physicality and the barrier-breaking nature of his candidacy were self-evident. Rather, Colbert won after knocking, by his count, on 20,000 doors, wearing out several pairs of size 15 shoes and putting parochial concerns, such as wildfire prevention, disaster preparedness and flood control, at the center of his campaign. He continues, during these early months in office, to focus on a garden variety of municipal issues: housing, traffic, making local government more accessible and responsive. That's not to say, however, that Colbert doesn't have deeply felt thoughts on the precedent his election set, or the significance of the lived experience he brings to office — different from most in this privileged slice of the San Francisco Bay Area — at a time President Trump is turning his back on civil rights and his administration treats diversity, equity and inclusion as though they were four-letter words. 'I think of the challenges, the indignities that my grandparents suffered on a daily basis' living under Jim Crow, Colbert said over lunch recently in his hometown of San Anselmo. He carefully chose his words, at one point resting an index finger on his temple to signal a pause as he gathered his thoughts. Colbert recalled visits to Savannah, Ga., where he attended Baptist church services with his mother's parents. 'I remember looking at the faces,' Colbert said, 'and to me they were the faces of African Americans waiting for death, because they were aware and knew of the opportunities that had been denied to them simply because of the color of their skin. But what gave them hope was the belief their kids and grandkids would have a better life. I am a product of that hope, in so many ways.' Colbert, 57, grew up in Bethel, Conn., about 60 miles northeast of New York City. Residents tried to prevent his parents — an accountant and a stay-at-home mom — from moving into the overwhelmingly white community. Neighbors circulated a petition urging the owners to not sell their home to the Black couple. They did so anyway. Colbert went on to earn degrees in political science and acting, public policy and law. He traveled the world with his wife, a Syrian American, practiced law on Wall Street, ran a chocolate company and a small tech firm. He lived for 3½ years in Turkey, where he taught international law and political science at a private university. In 2007, when the couple returned to the U.S., they set their sights on the Bay Area, drawn by the weather, the natural beauty and the entrepreneurial spirit that drew countless opportunity seekers before them. (Colbert started wearing Hawaiian shirts on the Silicon Valley conference circuit, after being mistaken one too many times for a security guard.) In 2013, Colbert, his wife and their daughter settled in San Anselmo, a charmy tree-lined community about 15 miles north of the Golden Gate Bridge. The relatively short commute to San Francisco, where he manages a medical concierge service, the quality schools and the vast open space were big attractions — though Colbert knew he and his family would stand out, just as he had in Bethel. San Anselmo, with its rugged hillsides and red-brick downtown, has about 13,000 residents. The Black population is less than 2%. But Colbert's extensive travels and life overseas convinced him that people 'on a certain level [are] the same' everywhere — 'warm, welcoming, kind, generous, helpful.' He had an abiding interest in policy and public service, so in 2013 Colbert joined the city's Economic Development Council. Four years later, he was elected to the Town Council. He served seven years, one in the rotating position of mayor, before running for the nonpartisan Board of Supervisors. Inevitably, he encountered racism along the way. There were threatening phone calls and emails. He got the occasional side-eye as he canvassed door-to-door in all-white neighborhoods. For the most part, however, 'people were incredibly pleasant' and campaigning 'was no more challenging ... than it would be [for] any candidate.' On a recent sunny afternoon, Colbert was greeted heartily — 'Hey, Brian!' 'Hey, supervisor!' — as he strode past Town Hall to Imagination Park, a gift the city's most famous resident, filmmaker George Lucas, bequeathed along with life-sized statues of Yoda and Indiana Jones. These are fraught times. The reckoning that followed the murder of George Floyd has given way to a backlash and a president who disdains efforts at equality, complains of anti-white prejudice and purges powerful Black men and women in the name of a mythical colorblind society. Given a chance to speak directly to Trump, what would Colbert — a Democrat — say? 'Mr. President, thank you for your service,' he began. 'Being in public offices is hard and difficult.' He paused. Several beats passed. A waiter cleared away dishes. 'I would encourage you to change your tone, certainly publicly, and broaden your perspective and embrace those who might have a different perspective than you,' Colbert went on. 'Many people have come to this country and they've added value. They've made this country for the better. 'Remember those who don't necessarily have easy access to power. Remember those who are struggling. Focus on those who are most vulnerable and are highly dependent on the government to help them through a short amount of time. I mean, the American experiment is incredible. Keep that in mind. A little empathy. Simple acts of kindness. Place yourself into someone else's shoes. 'Thank you, Mr. President.'
Arab News
27-04-2025
- Health
- Arab News
How doctors from Syria's diaspora are helping Homs rebuild its shattered health system
INNUMBERS * 7 of 17 Hospitals in Homs that are fully functional. * 58 of 227 Public health facilities that are fully operational. (Source: WHO) ANAN TELLO LONDON: After 14 years of civil war, Syria's largest province, Homs, has emerged from the conflict with its health system in tatters. Now, as families begin to return from displacement, diaspora doctors are stepping in to help revive damaged and long-neglected services. Among them are more than 30 physicians and civic leaders from Chicago. The Syrian American delegation, led by Dr. Zaher Sahloul of the US-based nonprofit MedGlobal, conducted workshops in early April as part of the Homs Healthcare Recovery Initiative. Sahloul said the scale of the crisis is staggering. 'During the conflict, many physicians, subspecialists and allied health professionals left Homs,' he told Arab News. 'The main hospital in Homs City, Al-Watani, was completely destroyed.' The exodus of medical professionals left a 'huge shortage of specialists, hospital beds and primary health centers,' highlighting 'deep inequality in the distribution of healthcare, especially between the city and rural areas,' said Sahloul. Outdated technology and a lack of medical supplies, equipment and medications have further hindered care. Once dubbed the 'capital of the revolution,' Homs was a key battleground in the uprising against Bashar Assad that began in 2011. Years of fighting devastated the province's infrastructure, leaving hospitals in ruins and severely limiting access to basic services. 'Half of Homs city has been destroyed, and several other cities were heavily damaged, shelled, or under siege — including Palmyra, Al-Qaryatayn and Al-Qusayr,' said Sahloul. 'A huge number of people fled Homs and became refugees or internally displaced.' By December 2013, almost half the governorate's population had been displaced, according to UN figures. In the city of Homs alone, 60 percent of residents fled their homes. Homs is not alone in experiencing such devastation. Today, only 57 percent of hospitals and 37 percent of primary healthcare centers across Syria are fully operational, according to the World Health Organization. Insecurity and violence since the fall of Assad in December continue to disrupt health services, endangering both patients and medical staff. Since March, surging violence in Alawite areas — particularly in Syria's coastal region and the Homs and Hama governorates — has damaged six major hospitals and several ambulances, according to the UN Population Fund. More than 1,000 civilians — including many medical students — have been killed in sectarian attacks, the UN children's agency UNICEF said in early March. The hostilities have also triggered a fresh wave of displacement. 'The escalation reportedly caused additional civilian casualties and injuries, the displacement of thousands of families and damage to critical infrastructure,' Edouard Beigbeder, UNICEF's regional director for the Middle East, said in a statement on March 9. Within Homs, the healthcare system is particularly strained. According to a February WHO report, just seven of the province's 17 hospitals and 58 of its 227 public health facilities are fully functional. Another four hospitals and 124 facilities are operating only partially. Patients with chronic conditions face serious barriers to care. Cancer patients in Homs 'have to go to Damascus to receive their treatment,' said Sahloul. 'Patients with chronic diseases cannot afford their medications due to the economic situation. 'Some patients on dialysis occasionally miss their treatments due to a shortage of dialysis kits. These kits are expensive, with each session costing around $20 to $25.' The humanitarian crisis is compounded by economic hardship and continued sanctions. With monthly wages ranging from just $15 to $50 and about 90 percent of the population living below the poverty line, many cannot afford basic care. Mass layoffs affecting about 250,000 public-sector workers have further strained the system. The UN estimates that 15.8 million people will require humanitarian health assistance in 2025, even as funding continues to decline. Mental health needs are also immense. 'There are large numbers of war victims, including those displaced by violence and people who have lost family members,' said Sahloul, adding that torture survivors and former detainees are 'deeply traumatized.' He said: 'As IDPs and refugees begin to return, the burden on mental health services grows.' The UN refugee agency, UNHCR, estimates that at least 1.4 million Syrians have returned home since the fall of the Assad regime. It projects that as many as 3.5 million refugees and IDPs could return by the end of the year. 'This means a growing number of people are coming back to areas with limited or no access to essential services like education, housing and healthcare,' said Sahloul. 'All of this creates a situation that is nearly catastrophic.' Given the scale of the crisis, Syria's Ministry of Health cannot meet all needs alone. Sahloul highlighted the urgent need for support from NGOs and foreign governments to help sustain as well as rebuild the healthcare system. Aid agencies are stepping in. The UN Office for Project Services, in partnership with the government of Japan, is working to rehabilitate Homs Grand Hospital to restore critical services. Similarly, the American Syrian Homs Healthcare Recovery mission, led by MedGlobal, has provided emergency supplies, performed critical surgeries and trained local healthcare workers in collaboration with Syrian communities. Highlighting the initiative's impact, Sahloul said: 'Some teams began filling gaps in the healthcare system by donating funds for essential medical equipment, including a cardiac catheterization machine for Al-Waleed Hospital, an eye echo machine for Al-Harith Hospital, a stress echo machine for a public hospital, neurosurgical equipment for the university hospital and more.' The mission, which began with a small team and quickly grew to include 650 expatriate physicians, has focused on three urgent priorities: Supporting dialysis patients, sustaining cardiac catheterization centers and addressing mental health. 'As part of the initiative, we provided dialysis kits across three different centers,' said Sahloul. 'Non-communicable diseases, not war-related injuries, are the primary health threat,' he added, citing high rates of smoking, hypertension, diabetes and fast food consumption. The Ministry of Health has also inaugurated the Homs Center for Mental Health Support to assist survivors of torture and war. However, Sahloul said that improving healthcare requires more than equipment and supplies — it demands addressing longstanding inequities between urban and rural areas, and among different communities. 'One of MedGlobal's main missions is to reduce these disparities by identifying and filling gaps in healthcare access,' he said. 'Historically, Syria has faced significant inequities between rural and urban areas, as well as within different neighborhoods based on their demographics. 'There are also disparities between major urban centers like Damascus and Aleppo, and the rest of the country. The eastern part of Syria, Hauran and the central regions were historically marginalized. 'By targeting these disparities, there is hope to ease tensions and begin healing a fractured society.' Despite growing rehabilitation efforts and the commitment of local and international organizations, the scale of need still far exceeds available resources. As instability continues across Syria, both patients and health workers face daily risks. The path to recovery is long and uncertain. Without sustained support, aid agencies warn, the country's most vulnerable will remain at risk.
Chicago Tribune
21-02-2025
- Entertainment
- Chicago Tribune
Review: In ‘One Party Consent' at First Floor Theater, student and adviser face off
If you're paying attention to the work of Chicago playwrights, you've likely heard of Omer Abbas Salem. In recent years, local theaters have premiered 'Mosque4Mosque,' their queer dramedy about a Syrian American family, and 'Happy Days are Here (Again),' an intense exploration of sexual abuse at a Catholic school. Their other plays in development have been workshopped at theaters large and small; this June, A Red Orchid Theatre will produce a staged reading of 'Pretty Shahid,' a gay rom-com about assimilation — and Julia Roberts. Also an actor, Salem currently appears in A Red Orchid's 'The Cave.' Their latest world premiere, 'One Party Consent,' is now on stage at First Floor Theater in a production directed by Nadya Naumaan. Set on a university campus in St. Louis, the play is a tense workplace drama that purports to be about the degradation of trust but is also very much about power dynamics in academia and the question of whom institutions protect. Salem's slippery script obscures much about its characters, leaving the audience not fully knowing who to trust, and the show also examines how people of color navigate largely white institutions. Running a tight 80 minutes with no intermission, the play consists of two extended scenes, the first of which takes place at a mid-year review for MFA directing student Fola (Stephanie Shum) with their adviser, dean of students Ellen Healy (Cynthia Marker). There's clearly a strained history between these two, as Fola's body language radiates discomfort from the start and they furiously scribble notes throughout the conversation. Healy initially comes across as a well-meaning older boss, if a bit fussy and defensive, and her comically compliant assistant Sandra (Ashlyn Lozano) takes her own notes during the meeting, with her back to much of the audience. The situation quickly deteriorates as adviser and advisee talk through Fola's list of concerns, most of which relate to the experiences of students of color and nonbinary students in the theater department. As the accusations begin to fly, Fola — who is Chinese American and identifies as nonbinary — calls Healy out for displaying tokenism, while Healy fires back that Fola is being unnecessarily combative. The sound design by Satya Chavez underscores the tension with occasional tones that evoke the sensation of tinnitus (something to be aware of for those with auditory sensitivities). As the show's synopsis indicates, Fola records audio of this conversation without Healy's knowledge or consent, which is legal in Missouri but lands them in hot water in the second half of the play. Here, Lozano switches roles to play Ms. Brite, a friend and former classmate of Fola's who now works for the university's human resources department. This prior relationship complicates matters as Brite moderates a second meeting between Fola and Healy — this time, with Fola's future at the university on the line. Setting this story in an MFA program risks veering into the territory of inside baseball, and for those outside the theater community, the characters' debates about casting processes and established hierarchies in the arts might seem a bit in the weeds. For the most part, however, Salem manages to make it an apt commentary on the fraught state of labor relations, albeit in a very specific workplace. Plus, it's a timely addition to the conversation about diversity, equity and inclusion initiatives in academia. Still, 'One Party Consent' left me with questions. Fola comes across as the most sympathetic character, and the story, though not a first-person narrative, feels like it's told from their perspective — which perhaps explains a slight tendency toward caricatures in the portrayals of other characters, especially Healy and Sandra. However, later revelations shed doubt on Fola's reliability, making for an intriguing ending. This seems like a play that could be experienced quite differently depending on the individual viewer's background, and because of this very ambiguity, I can see it sparking some lively conversations. Emily McClanathan is a freelance critic. When: Through March 15 Where: The Den Theatre, 1331 N. Milwaukee Ave. Running time: 1 hour, 20 minutes
