Raymond

We met Raymond about 24 hours after his daughter was born. He had just come from the hospital for his initial meeting with us. He applied to our Family Connections Program months earlier, knowing that he and his wife, Althea, needed childcare if they were to keep working toward their degrees.

We said, “let’s reschedule”, but his response was, “this meeting can’t wait.”

Raymond had some time before he needed to be back home with his new little family.  So we met with him and he was accepted into the Family Connections Program on the spot. He and his wife were laser-focused on earning their college degrees. The childcare assistance would help them stay the course.

Like many of our students, the road to college is not linear. Twists and turns, blockades and barriers make getting ahead even more challenging.

Raymond remembers his first, life-changing action after he was released from prison.

“I spent the first few years of my adult life in prison…my release date came, and I had nobody waiting to pick me up at the gate, so the guards drove me down to the Everett bus station. I had nothing to my name except the grey Monroe Correctional Facility sweatsuit I was wearing, and a paper bag with my housing voucher paperwork in it. I walked straight to Everett Community College from that bus station.”

Now, finishing up an associate degree at Everett Community College, his academic efforts have turned his life around and created stability for his family. He looks forward to transferring to the University of Washington to earn his bachelor’s degree in mechanical engineering this fall. His wife is planning on continuing her education, too. We look forward to supporting this mom and dad through their graduation days.

Below is a gratitude video from Raymond and Althea.

Tara

We met Tara just before her little one was born. A few weeks later, she welcomed her daughter into the world, and we welcomed Tara into our Family Connections Program. She started in the dental assistant program at Clover Park Technical College soon after.

Today, Tara has a dental assistant job waiting for her after graduation this spring, and she will eventually begin classes towards her ultimate goal of becoming a dental hygienist.

There is a shortage of dental assistants and hygienists in Washington state. And, once Tara graduates, she will help fill the need for trained dental technicians in our region.

Your support will help Tara to graduate on time, keep her daughter safe, and embark on her dream career. By making childcare more affordable and consistent for parents, success stories like Tara’s are much more possible.

“Goodwin Connections truly cares about my family. When I got pregnant in high school, I thought my dreams of being in the dental field were ruined. When I first met with them and found I could still go to school and have my daughter in the amazing childcare on campus I cried. I was so happy and relieved.”

 

Thank you from Maria

Last week, we received this letter from a student that we’re so happy to pass on to you. After all, you made this happen.

Now that school is back in session and things are a little more in place I would like to thank you for all the things you’ve done for me, in the last month especially, with all the emotional support and check-in emails. So I wrote a short letter from the bottom of my heart.

In this letter, I would like to express my deepest gratitude to every single person involved with Goodwin Connections and all the donors for their generous contributions towards the education of many students in the state, but especially to those who have helped to support my education during these uncertain times we are living. When I first enrolled for my spring classes at Lake Washington Institute of Technology, I was sure that tightening my family budget would help me pay for my classes and other expenses. I was not aware of the tremendous impact the COVID-19 virus would have on the education and the lifestyle of most of us.

Moving from face to face to online classes during the last five weeks of the winter quarter was a big challenge, because my laptop was not keeping up with the load of homework from school. In this letter I would like to thank you all for your support by providing me with the gift card, new laptop, and the emotional relief of feeling able to do online classes during the spring quarter. 

I have no words that can better describe my gratitude for your support. Thanks to you, I can keep myself on track to obtain an associate in Architectural Design by Summer 2021. I would like to tell you from my heart that your selfless help means the whole world to my family and me, and that I see your donation as an investment in my education. I will make sure that your investment grows.

~Maria, current student

Thank you so much for donating to our COVID-19 relief fund and supporting Maria and our other students. We can’t wait to share their celebratory graduation news with you.

We hope you’re staying safe and healthy at home.

With Gratitude,

The Goodwin Connections Board and Staff

Kristen

Unlocking my Strength

By Kristen

Ten years ago, I was trapped in a domestic violence (DV) relationship. The consequences of this relationship were extensive, affecting my mental, emotional, and physical well-being. During this period, I was prescribed oxycodone for multiple injuries. As the abusive relationship got worse, so too did my abuse of oxycodone.

Eight years ago, I successfully navigated my way out of that DV relationship and my addiction. I have been sober for eight years. This is my story of discovering my strength against the odds and using it to reach my fullest potential.

At seven months pregnant, after hours of being locked in a room—berated with verbal abuse, smothered, struck, and strangled—my water broke. I convinced my abuser that if either the baby or I died, no amount of “it won’t happen again” would save him from legal ramifications and that 911 needed to be called. He was arrested, while I was airlifted to a Seattle hospital.

It is difficult to explain the effect of DV on my life. I mourned the loss of myself. The motivated high school student who switched into a homeschool program to organize my school work around two jobs. The independent traveler who moved alone to London, France, and Australia to experience history, culture, and adventure. The driven worker who networked my way up through the Vegas casino industry.

Over time, I wholeheartedly accepted that all my hopes and dreams were no longer attainable. However, after that medevac helicopter ride, when my son was born, I once again could see the world’s opportunities. For the first time, I did not fear the threats of my abuser or the potential devastation of leaving my house, businesses, cars, and money behind. Upon holding my son, I was abruptly charged with the strength to fight, the humility to become homeless, the courage to start my life over, and the power to never look back.

After a month in the hospital, we moved into a DV shelter. My only possession was my premature newborn son. There I spent months, researching daycare assistance programs to permit me to find work, low-income housing to give us a home, and the court system to enact a protection order and parenting plan. This experience allowed me to become an expert on navigating the systems and programs available to survivors of DV and those
enduring hardships.

As I moved through this process, it became clear to me that so many other people were suffering in similar situations and I became determined to use my focus, experience, and skills on their behalf. To serve these individuals, I first needed to fulfill my dream of attaining my undergraduate degree.

With the support of Goodwin Connections, I graduated from the University of Washington’s Foster School of Business last spring and enrolled at the University of Washington School of Law in the fall. The afterschool care assistance I received for my inquisitive and charming son gave him a creative outlet and educational opportunities that enhanced his own educational journey. For me, it allowed more freedom in scheduling classes, the ability to reallocate my finances as a single mom, and created a future with less debt upon graduation. The childcare piece made it all possible.

My story of addiction, abuse, and poverty is not uncommon. However, what is less likely, is coming through to the other side, stronger and ready to apply that strength to the injustices in the world. I am using my second chance to make myself a better person and the world a better place.

Where are they now? Meet Rich.

A decade ago, Rich was a self-employed contractor working 60 hours a week to make ends meet. He rarely got to spend time with his wife, Rachel, and their two young kids. Still, his health was suffering. Their home was facing foreclosure. They felt stuck.

“It wasn’t sustainable,” Rich says. “I wanted to go to school but the cost of childcare made it prohibitive to not work full time.”

They couldn’t live solely off Rachel’s public teacher salary.

Then they discovered the Seattle Milk Fund (now Goodwin Connections) and their entire outlook changed.

With the barrier of childcare removed, Rich became a first-generation college student. Between classes, he visited his kids at the on-campus childcare center at North Seattle College. At home, he thrived in his role as primary caretaker and household manager. And once Rich earned his associate degree from North Seattle College and returned to work full-time, Rachel was empowered to return to school and earn her
master’s degree.

With both parents now earning more than before their degrees, they enjoy what they view as a simple, sustainable life. And they continue to express gratitude for the support they received by paying it forward as donors.

“The program is a very direct way to help people get a higher education by eliminating a key expense in childcare,” they say. “It gave us hope when it really felt like there wasn’t anything.”

-Tamara Braunstein

Denise Nicole

At the beginning of the school year, Denise Nicole spoke to our guests at our annual luncheon. Here is her story…

Good afternoon. It is an honor to be here. My name is Denise Nicole, and my four-year-old son, Kingston, and I just joined the Family Connections Program.

I am here on behalf of all the new and returning student parents and their families to thank you for believing in us and our children.

My journey has been filled with hardships that could have impacted my life in a negative way. There have been hurdles and obstacles that could have stopped me in my tracks. But I have persevered and stayed true to my path because I am worth fighting for!

During my senior year in high school, my mother passed away unexpectedly from diabetes. Two months later, I found out I was pregnant. I instantly went from the baby of the family to the head of my own household. My two older brothers were already out of the house and my father went into a deep depression and went his own way.

I was scared. Scared to be another statistic. So, I educated myself on parenting resources and took all of the available parenting classes. I continue to strive to be the best mother and role model for my children and my community.

I was an active, and engaged high school student, who happened to be pregnant. Teachers and community leaders told me that I wouldn’t attend college. I could have listened to the naysayers. But I didn’t.

I choose to hold on to one teacher’s voice, Pamela Dykstra my homeroom teacher, she planted seeds of hope within me.

She told me she believed in me and one day I would make it into Harvard if I choose too.

Her seeds of hope sprinkled with my mother’s unconditional love have inspired me to do many great things. Becoming a mother to a beautiful daughter and son, go to college, and go after the career that I desire and deserve. This past year, I completed the Race, Equity and Leadership in school’s professional development training at the Harvard Graduate School of Education.  This achievement reinforced my commitment to my goal of creating a nonprofit leadership academy for young adults to become inspirational influencers in their own communities.  I am going to name my nonprofit after my daughter, Charizma.

Currently, I work full-time and will be going to school full-time. The budget-breaking cost of childcare almost crushed my dreams of finishing college, but your support today will help me graduate with a bachelor’s degree, create more job security, and it will give my son a boost by getting him ready to attend kindergarten in a year.

My son just started his Pre-K program a few days ago at the local Y and the preschool tuition assistance that Goodwin Connections provides will be a game-changer for our family.

I am looking forward to us all being in school at the same time. I picture us at the kitchen table, my son printing his name over and over again, my daughter doing her biology homework, and me editing a paper I have to turn in the next day. It’s going to be a great year.

For some of you, your school days probably seem long ago and far away.  But there are several people here today, just like me, who are starting a fresh school year right now!  To the donors who have made this program strong for so many years, I would just like to say: we are so thankful for your support.

 

Alexandra

This week, we announced Goodwin Connections’ inaugural Sandra Tonseth Scholar. An honor that will be bestowed upon a University of Washington student from the day they enter our Family Connections program through their graduation day. Named in memory of Sandy Tonseth, a past Seattle Milk Fund President and founding member of the Everett W. Nordstrom Circle. Sandy and her friends were Nordstrom employees who wanted to give back in a meaningful way and they found purpose in helping Seattle Milk Fund families. Sandy herself attended the University of Washington and studied art.

This year’s Sandra Tonseth Scholar is Alexandra. Alexandra is in her final year at the University of Washington majoring in Comparative History of Ideas with a minor in Environmental Studies.

She is an artist at heart who has a passion for music and documentary filmmaking. In addition to school, Alexandra also volunteers for 350 Seattle, a grassroots nonprofit working on the climate change crisis.

Her inspiration and motivation for all of this is her 10-year-old daughter, who is also a musician and engaged in her own volunteer work for the environment. As a full-time single mother, Alexandra is hardworking, resilient and an incredible example of how higher education can act as a channel in the pursuit of your dreams.

Congratulations to Alexandra!  And, our sincere gratitude to the Tonseth Family for creating this special honor for a very deserving student parent.

Araceli

How Balancing Self-Care and Sacrifice Enabled One Mom to Achieve Her Dreams

By: Tamara Braunstein

If you’d asked Araceli in high school about what she wanted to do with her life, she might have shrugged. She definitely wouldn’t have named any job requiring a four-year degree — she never thought she’d make it to college. For a while, she wasn’t sure she’d graduate from high school.

Today, she’s a proud graduate of the University of Washington (UW) Tacoma School of Social Work. And she’s an even prouder mother to her five-year-old son, Christian.

It’s Christian whom she credits with igniting her desire to push herself and achieve academic success. And it’s her 10th grade mentor who inspired her path forward.

“I feel like I wouldn’t have been able to graduate high school without that person to listen to me, help me with my academics, especially math and writing,” she says. “It was just a struggle.”

So from her perspective, Araceli’s degree is not only for herself and her son — it’s also for students who don’t speak English as their first language. For kids whose parents work long, hard days that leave them less available to support their children academically. For anyone who might be struggling with a learning disability and just need a little extra encouragement to thrive. For people like her.

“I didn’t know what I wanted to do in social work at the beginning; I just knew I wanted to help people,” Araceli says.

But if high school was a challenge, even the logistics of going to college presented an entirely new test. Balancing class schedules with childcare while working to pay for both was daunting. At least she was eligible for public funding.

Until she wasn’t.

After completing prerequisite courses at South Seattle College in 2017, Araceli transferred to UW’s social work program. But soon after starting classes there, she was notified that her financial aid from the Washington State Department of Social and Health Services (DSHS) would not be renewed. DSHS had changed their terms and she was no longer eligible based on her academic program.

Even though she was living at home with her parents, she couldn’t rely on them to watch Christian. Her father worked all day and her mother was recovering from a kidney transplant while undergoing cancer treatment.

“I went looking for help and someone at the university told me about their emergency aid options, but it turned out I didn’t qualify,” she says. “Then they mentioned the Seattle Milk Fund.”

A self-described skeptic, Araceli was hesitant about what the Seattle Milk Fund was offering. She had never heard of the organization. She was sure there’d be some sort of small print that would disqualify her. It seemed too good to be true.

But Araceli was also a bit of an optimist — or as she says, maybe just desperate enough to take a chance.

“They just said, ‘If you’re a mom, if you’re in school…’ and I remember thinking, ‘OK, I’m fit for this,’” she says. “So I hurried to get my application together and I hoped for the best.”

Getting the call that she’d been accepted as a Seattle Milk Fund recipient was life-changing. Not only did it mean Araceli could continue her studies and work, it meant she could keep sending her son to the daycare she already knew and trusted.

“In the beginning, everything was hard emotionally,” Araceli says, recalling the impact of her mother’s chemo treatment and care needs. “Being in school and having to do everything I was doing, knowing Seattle Milk Fund was there to help relieved so much stress.”

Stressful is an understatement of Araceli’s first year at UW. Many days involved waking up early to drop off Christian at daycare, then driving 45 minutes to school to attend class for one hour, then driving another 25 minutes to an internship before finally completing the trek back to her neck of the woods to work. Once at home, her hours were spent studying, completing tasks for her internship, and caring for her son and her mother.

But through all of that, Araceli learned two lessons: 1) The importance of setting boundaries for her time and 2) The importance of self-care, including asking for assistance when she needed it.

“The shy part in me still comes up. I was always terrified to ask for help because I don’t like to make people mad,” Araceli says. “But when you open up about reality, people can be understanding.”

She learned that at home especially, where each lesson was pressure tested.

Trying to balance everything on her plate was almost impossible. So she finally asked her sister, her only sibling, to tag-team caring for their mother. And she learned to tune out any criticisms that she should be prioritizing work and Christian.

“My dad is the macho man, always working. So sometimes I feel like I have to defend myself,” Araceli says. “I’m not a bad mom. I’m doing this for my son.”

The Seattle Milk Fund also became part of her self-care plan.

“I think they understand the life of a college student. We’re single moms, we’re busy,” she says. “This organization is like another hand.”

Not only that, but it’s a community Araceli didn’t realize she needed until she had it. It’s camaraderie, emotional support and professional networking rolled into one — all with people who empathize with her story. Plus, thanks to their tickets to venues like zoos, aquariums and museums, Araceli and Christian get to make the most of their limited free time together in ways they otherwise wouldn’t be able to.

“It’s so expensive to do those things, and a lot of us don’t have the money,” Araceli says. “Those have been my getaways with my son.”

Now, as Christian prepares to enter Kindergarten, Araceli is looking to the next chapter of their life: A pay increase (as soon as she earned her degree, her employer of eight years bumped up her pay) and graduate school. The toughest decision she’s facing now is whether to pursue a specialty in education or medicine.

After completing her internship at a local high school, she’s convinced she has what it takes to work with students to turn their academic careers around.

“I’m glad I was put at a high school, because I felt like that was the hardest part of my education,” she says. “I feel like I have a story they can relate to — I helped students who spoke Spanish, I helped the ones at risk of dropping out, I helped the seniors apply for college.”

But going through her mother’s medical crisis exposed Araceli to the world of medical social work. She was so inspired by and thankful for how her mother’s case workers supported the family, especially when it felt like the doctors were only focused on the medical treatment and not a holistic experience.

“I feel like I could close the gaps between the doctor and the patient,” she says. “People need more attention paid to the emotional part of care.”

Whatever she decides, Araceli knows her success will come down to having a plan, then remembering her two lessons along the way.

As she tells her high school students, “It’s hard and you have to sacrifice, but if you make goals — and ask for help — you can meet them.”

Congrats to our new graduates!

This spring and summer, we will celebrate 27 students graduating with their degrees from colleges in King, Pierce, and Snohomish counties. This is the largest cohort of graduates that our Family Connections Program has experienced since its inception. We are so proud of our hardworking and dedicated scholars and all they have accomplished. We wish them the best as they begin their careers. Thank you to our supporters for making graduation day a reality for our students.

Edmonds Community College
Svitlana
, Science

Lake Washington Institute of Technology
Vita
, Accounting

North Seattle College
Jennifer, Pre-nursing

Pierce College
Briana, Pre-nursing

Seattle Central College
Fadumo, Respiratory Therapy
Rebecca, Social Human Services

Seattle Pacific University
Monica
, Nursing

Seattle University
Devin
, Electrical Engineering
Angelica, Law
Martha, Nursing
Hodan, Nursing
TyKera, Social Work

Shoreline Community College
Sarah
, Chemistry

University of Washington Bothell
Naira
, Accounting
Weikang, Math

University of Washington Seattle
Corinna,
English

Danya, Education Policy
Hirut, Nursing
Robyn, Business
Joshua, Mechanical Engineering
Myles, Community, Environment, and Planning
Katie, Psychology
Kristen, Business
Sydney, Nursing
Ruby, Social Work

University of Washington Tacoma
Araceli
, Social Welfare

Washington State University (Everett)
Karina, Hospitality
Masooma, Pharmacy

 

Fadumo

Survivor of Somali Civil War establishes love, work, and home in Seattle

Author: Maggie Wilson
Photographer: Renee Banks

Please be aware: This article includes the recounting of experiences during the Somali Civil War that are upsetting. They are also real experiences. Read compassionately. A version, that was edited for length, appeared in our Winter/Spring 2019 Newsletter.

Fadumo Daud heard a bomb coming, but she could not escape it.

She was a child then, with her younger sister beside her. Those who heard the bomb coming either ran or laid themselves down.

“(When bombs near) people go somewhere they think is safe,” Fadumo said.

Today, Fadumo lives in Seattle’s Columbia City, with her loving husband, Ahmed, and her three sons. With help from Seattle Milk Fund, her youngest son attends preschool, and her two older sons attend after-school programs while Fadumo works toward a bachelor’s degree in respiratory care at Seattle Central College.

Her middle son is 8 years old – the same age this year as she was in Somalia during the Civil War in 1991.

Fadumo juices carrots in bright mornings for her boys. Over winter, she took them to the Pacific Science Center.

“It’s so beautiful there,” she said. In the Center’s tropical butterfly room, royal blue and red calico butterflies land on cinnamon and cocoa trees, nervous shoulders.

Fadumo said the science center is one of her favorite places in Seattle. She was given tickets from the Seattle Milk Fund, an organization she’s a student with. Through Seattle Milk Fund’s program, her children are cared for while she finishes her education.

She’s earning a bachelor’s degree in respiratory care at Seattle Central College.

When we talk about why she studies respiratory therapy, Fadumo says her path to medicine began in 1991 – and she takes us to the day.

Civil war in Somalia

Today, Fadumo is somewhere safe. But her journey to Seattle was treacherous. She believes she arrived because of her faith in God, her family, help from people on her path – and her strength.

When Fadumo was 8 years old, she lived happily with her mother and five younger siblings in Somalia.

Then war came. It seemed inconceivable that a small militia would permanently wipe out the government. But the war worsened; the president of Somalia fled. And suddenly, there was no running water, no regulation, no electricity.

Fadumo’s family could not flee. Around their house, bullets screamed.

Her young mother Sadiyo said, “If I take all these kids, I don’t know how to survive on this road.”

The youngest baby was only months old.

One day, Sadiyo had to search for food.

Fadumo and her 7-year-old sister Faiza left their siblings at home and went out to search for clean water.

Hands full, jugs full of water

Fadumo and Faiza carried plastic jugs.

They embarked to their auntie’s house. Fadumo knew of a well there. Three other girls joined.

They couldn’t walk the streets, where gunfire whined without break. Instead, they walked along a wall. When the girls arrived at their auntie’s, the house was crowded, and they could see only strangers. They left to find water elsewhere.

They passed a mansion under construction. A man was in the doorway, watching.

The watchman called to the girls. He saw the jugs and offered water from a well there.

The girls were full of joy. They lined up and the man filled their jugs with fresh water.

Then, in the air – there was the distinct sound of an incoming bomb.

“We heard the noise. But it was coming to us directly,” Fadumo said. “There was nothing we could have done differently.”

The house was unfinished. They were standing on rugs. When the bomb hit, everything became shrapnel. The rugs crawled up legs, burning them.

The explosion hit the watchman and Faiza.

“They became pieces,” Fadumo said. “My sister and him – their bodies became unknown.”

Fadumo’s leg split in two. She was the first to wake from unconsciousness.

“I opened my eyes,” she said. “All I see is white ash. … I don’t hear anybody screaming, anybody talking. I just hear, ‘eh, eh.’ Somebody is making little noise. I think my sister was dying.”

Fadumo stood and fell. She thought of her family. As the oldest child, she felt responsible for helping them.

On her injured leg, she crawled through small rocks to an outdoor gate. At the gate, she screamed for help. But everyone was running for their lives. Running, passing.

A man eventually helped her.

He put her inside of a wheelbarrow and ran. Everything went blank. Fadumo woke up on a table at the hospital.

Finding Fadumo

The sun was setting when Sadiyo, Fadumo’s mother, returned with food.

She saw neighbors in the yard and asked God, “Help me. Whatever happened to my children. If they all died, give me the strength to bury them. If there are some left for me, please help me through this. I will never cry. Please leave me some.”

Sadiyo learned Faiza died and Fadumo was at a hospital, but no one knew which.

Sadiyo and strong men took the bathroom door off its hinges and stripped the bedsheet off her bed.

She and neighbors walked to the mansion, carrying the bedsheet and door. There, they found Faiza, the watchman and another young girl dead.

Two other girls had survived and lost their hands.

Sadiyo and neighbors buried Faiza and the little girl who died together in the ground.

After the burials, Sadiyo found Fadumo.

“My mom came, and she kissed me from the top,” Fadumo said. “And she said, ‘You’re going to be fine. I’m here. I found you.’”

They had to amputate Fadumo’s left leg.

She remembers braiding her hands together in prayer and promising, “God, if you save my life today, I will help your needy ones.”

Taking refuge in Kenya, then Seattle

Sadiyo soon decided the family needed to flee Somalia. Fadumo was still recovering.

The family had to walk, and they took turns helping Fadumo.

They reached a refugee camp in Kenya and lived there until they were processed as refugees to Seattle.

It was 1996.

“God saved me,” Fadumo said. “Everything comes from God. I think my purpose was to come here (to Seattle) and have a life.”

In Seattle, Fadumo visited a doctor for the first time since her leg was amputated. Doctors at Harborview inspected the wound and found an infection.

They said her leg would have to be re-amputated.

A nurse at Harborview, who lost her leg in a boating accident, came to Fadumo to show her a prosthetic.

“She walked in,” Fadumo remembered. “And she showed me her leg, and she was wearing a sandal. And I was so excited. I said, ‘I could wear that sandal, and I could get that leg, and I could walk again with sandals. Yes, I will do the surgery.’”

In 1997, they re-amputated her leg and gave her a prosthetic.

She has walked ever since.

To this day, she still visits the practitioner who fitted her with her new leg at his home in Gig Harbor.

A desire to help others the way she was helped

“I’ve seen people, coming from left and right helping me through, helping me walk again,” Fadumo said.

It’s why she studies medicine.

After graduating high school in Seattle, she worked for years as a caregiver.

She remembers one night sleeping with her second baby, when he was very little, and musing, “I need to fulfill my promise to God that I will help serve humanity.”

She went back to school. She studied through pregnancy, the birth of a child and her mother-in-law’s breast cancer diagnosis.

“She was having a hard time breathing at the end,” Fadumo said of her mother-in-law. “I see breath – and I see that we take it for granted.”

She reflected both on her mother-in-law’s struggle breathing and her struggle breathing when she was a child in the hospital in Somalia. She was moved to study respiration.

Needing childcare in Seattle to study, reach dreams

While searching for affordable childcare, Fadumo found the Seattle Milk Fund, and quickly saw how their Family Connections Program would make finishing college possible. Her boys would have their own educational opportunities, while she attended classes and did additional clinical work.

She applied to the Seattle Milk Fund and was accepted in 2017.

“I was so happy,” said Fadumo. “It gave me safety and security to continue my education. … I have to work hard and the life I left behind is still imprinted in my mind.”

As Fadumo nears graduation day this spring, she reflects on what receiving her degree will mean to her sons.

“I want my children to look back and see what I did in my life, and look how far I came,” Fadumo said. “From the war, my education. And take notice of that and say, ‘If my mom did it, I can do it, too.’”

In January, she worked with two of her sons, now 8 and 9 years old, on a Heritage Day poster. She is beginning to introduce them to her childhood.

Her son was asked by his teacher, ‘If you go to Somalia, what do you most want to see?’

And he said, “the monuments” and where his Aunt Faiza is buried.

Fadumo’s future

What’s important to Fadumo is that she makes a positive difference.

Of her friends who survived the bomb and lost their hands, she said in Somalia people with scars of war or similar losses aren’t socially accepted. Disabilities, missing limbs and mental illness cause people to treat you differently, she said.

The two unmarried sisters now live together.

“One is missing the right hand and one is missing the left hand,” Fadumo said. “They wash clothes, cook, and support each other, one hand to another.”

She hopes to work with survivors of war and survivors of trauma, and also to find ways to give back to those in Somalia.

Today, she studies and works hard, raises her sons and thanks God for her blessings.

She, her husband and three sons sit and eat Somali Anjero in their South Seattle home. They pass the sweet bread, one hand to another, around the table.

Fadumo will soon be studying for her final exams and will begin applying for respiratory therapist positions just as soon as she graduates. We wish her and her beautiful family all the best as she begins her career helping others.