New England Public Radio

Muslim immigrants have become an increasingly large part of the fabric of New England in recent years.

They don’t hold very much political power in the region yet, but one Muslim immigrant from Maine is steadily working his way into the power structure in a very practical way — by getting out the vote.

Inside a cavernous glass and steel chamber that overlooks Portland’s busy waterfront, dozens of immigrants are about to become citizens at a ceremony.

Roughly 3.5 percent of Maine’s population is foreign born, and in the last decade or so, the state has seen a significant influx of refugees from conflict zones like Iraq and Somalia. They’ve concentrated in the state’s biggest cities, with Portland the biggest.

Most immigrants who want to be naturalized have to wait five years to become eligible. But as one speaker at the ceremony notes, these new Americans are not mere citizens, they are now potential voters.

“Please do register. That is one of the responsibilities that is required of everyone that is a citizen of this country,” says Pious Ali, an immigrant from Ghana, slightly overstating the responsibility to vote.

Ali earned his U.S. citizenship almost a decade ago, but his emphasis on the importance of voting is easy to understand. On the same day Donald Trump was elected president, Ali was elected to Portland’s City Council, continuing the political rise of the one of the first African-born Muslims to hold public office in Maine.

And he won more votes than any other candidate for city council in at least 20 years. That’s a testament to pretty broad support, but Ali says he counted on newly energized immigrant voters to back his candidacy.

He says all his voters, immigrants or not, want him to be a voice for new Mainers.

“I have a very complex identity. I am a black man in today’s America. I am an immigrant and I also happen to be a Muslim. So with all this complex identity that I have I can relate and I can speak with many different constituents. They will also feel comfortable reaching out to me instead of maybe other councilors,” Ali says.

“He’s really been a vital cog in the wheel, if you will, over the last 10 years of trying to make sure that the community needs are being heard, and I think he just became a really trusted leader for a lot of people, and honestly worked his ass off,” says Ethan Strimling, Portland’s mayor and a political ally of Ali’s since Ali made a successful run for the city school board four years ago.

Strimling now convenes a monthly meeting with Muslim leaders, and he has pushed to establish a city office to help new Mainers and other underserved residents find work. He says the city’s immigrant communities are starting to show some real political muscle.

“As more and more of this generation has become citizens and become more active in our schools, you’ve really started to see it,” he says. “I think anybody who is in politics in the city of Portland is going to come up very short if they are not connected to the immigrant community and they aren’t listening to the immigrant community in terms of what their expectations are.”

Expectations such as jobs, better school services and inclusion. Ali wants all of those, but he is starting with smaller bites at the apple and focusing on constituent service. And he’s wary of bold moves: he says, for instance, that the time is not ripe for a proposal by Strimling to allow legal immigrants to vote before they are naturalized.

First, Ali says, it’s impractical. The necessary permission from state government is unlikely, at least not now. Maine Gov. Paul LePage, it’s worth noting, is famous for resisting liberal immigrant policies.

Second, Ali says, recent immigrants from unstable countries need time to settle and learn before jumping into a pretty poisonous political environment in the U.S.

“Politics is already toxic as it is right now. So to bring in people who do not have a vast understanding of this, would be a disservice to that community. So, totally great idea, but there’s a lot of work to be done,” he says.

National data show that recently naturalized citizens tend to vote at lower rates than those who’ve been here for decades, or are U.S.-born. At the recent waterfront naturalization ceremony, there was an appreciable line at a table the League of Women Voters set up to help fresh-minted citizens register.

Luc-Armand Ningumirize says he arrived here from Burundi five years ago, and he looks to Ali to carry the immigrant banner into city politics.

“When I was congratulating him I was saying now we are seeing your steps. So just know there are some other people behind you who are doing the same steps as he did. So it’s a great victory not only for him but also for the immigrant communities around Portland,” he says.

Ningumirize had another message for Ali: the councilor could count on his vote in the next election.

This report is part of a series called “Facing Change.” It comes from the New England News Collaborative, eight public media companies coming together to tell the story of a changing region, with support from the Corporation for Public Broadcasting.

With her 3-month-old baby on her lap and her 2-year-old son strumming a guitar in the background, Nichole Mossalam ticks through her hypothetical platform as a candidate for Malden School Committee.

Sitting around a cluttered table in the shared office space of a Cambridge-based nonprofit, Mossalam learns the ins and outs of running for public office.

The nonprofit, Jetpac, trains potential candidates regardless of party affiliation, with a goal of increasing civic engagement within Muslim communities.

Mossalam is 34, lives in Malden, and is a director at her local mosque. She’s been working with the political training group for over a month and admits she’s got a way to go before she launches her run in June.

“Oh, there’s so much to learn,” she says with wide eyes and a grin. “But it’s definitely exciting. The Islamic community is excited because if elected, I would be the first Muslim elected in the city of Malden, and they really want to see that for the community. Some of the parent groups that I’m involved in, they want a voice on the school committee as well.”

Part of Jetpac’s mission is to help potential Muslim candidates identify opportunities for civic engagement and then to empower them.

Another candidate-in-training is 41-year-old Sarah Khatib of Walpole, who says the current political climate is somewhat of a motivator.

“You know we are a target of a lot of unfortunate rhetoric and even physical assaults,” Khatib says, “and I think, yeah, it can be a catalyst, you know.”

With a master’s degree in structural engineering, Khatib has her sights set on the Walpole Planning Board. But why is this mother of four and political newbie gearing up for a campaign now? Well, she says it’s time for Muslim community members to engage.

“As the community sees more and more people who are able [to] step up and try to run, then it will give them confidence,” she says. “Jetpac, it’s just a wonderful resource so that, like, somebody [like] myself who maybe has that inclination to run, this gives you the extra boost that you need to see it through.”

Muslims Have Been On The ‘Defensive’

Providing this “extra boost” to people thinking about a bid for office is part of what Jetpac’s cofounder and Cambridge City Councilor Nadeem Mazen had in mind.

“In my opinion, organizing in the community is the best way to get started thinking about running for office,” Mazen says, “and running for office is one of the best ways to impact the local or state level community on issues of great, important value to our everyday lives.”

As Massachusetts’ first Muslim city councilor, Mazen wants to encourage other American Muslims to enter politics.

But putting your name on a ballot means opening your life up to the public, and that’s a tall task for anyone.

For Muslims, Mazen says, it’s just not something that communities have been focused on in the past.

“Muslims to a great extent have been on the defensive for the last couple of decades,” he says. “When you are spending so much of your life on the defensive, it makes it difficult to do the work that is community-oriented.”

In New England, there are only a handful of Muslim elected officials. But Mazen sees plenty of potential. Jetpac had only three Massachusetts participants earlier this month. After the launch, more than 100 people nationwide responded.

Mazen says political organizing in communities has the potential to translate into voters at the polls but, he adds, tipping political scales is not the sole motivation.

“Let’s go beyond that, to the fact that it’s incumbent upon Muslims to achieve justice in the community, to protect people’s housing, to visit the sick,” Mazen says. “It’s incumbent upon Muslims to be part of that discussion. All of that comes out of community solidarity, community organizing.”

‘This Is The Time That We Cannot Shy Away’

Deeqo Jibril has been living a page out of the community organizer playbook for decades now.

“I am [an] activist, a lot of politicians come to me to mobilize this community,” Jibril says. “And this year I said, well, the community wants to see somebody that look[s] like us.”

Jibril is Somali and came to the U.S. as a refugee when she was 12 years old. She and her family have called Roxbury home ever since, and soon she hopes to represent the district as the first Muslim elected to the Boston City Council.

“We are underrepresented,” she says, “and I encourage always to civically get engaged [in] the community, and now I encourage them more to get engaged, because this is the time that we cannot shy away.”

Jibril is running for the seat currently held by Tito Jackson, who earlier this year began a campaign for mayor. When asked about her chances of winning, she pauses and says: “I don’t know, we’ll see. It’s uphill battle, but, um, regardless [of] what happens, this campaign will inspire others to get more engaged.”

Even if it that engagement happens one candidate at a time.

This report is part of a series called “Facing Change.” The series comes from the New England News Collaborative, eight public media companies coming together to tell the story of a changing region, with support from the Corporation for Public Broadcasting.