In a post-Anita Hill world, the #MeToo Movement has brought to light rampant sexual assaults and violence experienced by women and girls across the world once again. Despite the progress, many women of color continue to suffer in silence. One specific group of women of color who deserve a spotlight in the movement can be found in our very own community — refugee and immigrant women.

Immigrant women of color face several roadblocks when it comes to confronting their abusers and the system. In a system where American women are sometimes not taken seriously, non-native born women still need to figure out the new legal and cultural institutions at work. On top of that, if they look obvious or visibly “other,” they must deal with those repercussions.

For example, I have seen and dealt with cases involving custody battles and divorce where immigrant women aren’t able to advocate for themselves. Because it is difficult to navigate a social service system that is not culturally and linguistically relevant, they are that much more at a disadvantage when accessing services. The system immediately deems them incompetent or incapable of understanding their situation based on pre-determined biases.

Others can’t even imagine the difficulty immigrant and refugee victims have experienced and seen as people, let alone as survivors. And that is hard pill to swallow for many.

This invisible demographic can’t seem to find their footing because their community, family and relationships are seen as more important than their own well-being. From experience, Somali women bear a lot on their shoulders. While maintaining their familial connections and home environment, they are also expected to build a life in a new country that sees them as “the enemy.” Whatever is good for the community, then, is good for these individuals because they feel safe. Consequently, many immigrant and refugee women don’t consider their well-being because there are so many other issues that take precedence. Domestic violence victims feel less inclined to come forward because they both don’t understand the system and don’t want to lose the community’s stable force in their lives. When women face this dilemma, that’s when we come in. They come to us seeking help and support.

As a victim-centered center, the Immigrant Resource Center of Maine gives survivors the stepping stones and proper tools to make themselves their best advocates. We want them to have all the facts and knowledge before they tackle something as difficult as the criminal justice system. We provide both direct services and also teach skills such as self-advocacy, empowerment and skill development courses through our “Meeting Circles”; Peer Support Mentors programs and English classes.

Today our women work tirelessly to educate themselves, to protect their children and to survive in America. Immigrant and refugee women are the most courageous and resilient people you will ever meet. Yet, they are humbled and focused to provide a strong foundation for their children.

We live in the communities we serve. We see the impact of our work. We witness and celebrate the growth of our communities.

As a survivor who has experienced misogynoir, xenophobia, Islamophobia and other hardships, I wanted to make sure other immigrant women understood their own unique power in a new environment. The IRC of Maine, formerly known as the United Somali of Women, is built on the base of women’s empowerment and education. Through our work with the new Maine community, we have seen more women feel comfortable enough to report their abusers. Survivors deserve to feel heard — no matter the language, culture or skin color. It is time immigrant and refugee women get the voice they deserve, both locally and nationally.

For more information, go to www.ircofmaine.org or call 207-753-0061.

Fatuma Hussein is executive director of the Immigrant Resource Center Of Maine.

Fatuma Hussein