Miragedriver
Brigadier
Part 3
Rx for Prosperity: German Companies See Refugees as Opportunity
'Very Skillful'
Leila Moghadam filed her asylum application in October 2013, but then had to wait nine months before being allowed to attend a German language course. Now she is standing in front of large loaves of bread, small chocolates and sheet cakes. The Iranian native has been kneading, baking and decorating since 3:30 a.m., when her workday begins. The Wippler Bakery, where she works, opens at 6:00 a.m.
Moghadam managed to find work and something resembling a family 30 minutes from downtown Dresden.
She studied political science in her native Iran. She also owned a shop in Tehran, where she made and sold gift packaging, before fleeing the country for religious reasons. Her journey to a new life in Germany cost her about €8,000 ($9,070). In return, she received a visa and an airline ticket to Dortmund, in western Germany. From there, the authorities sent her from one refugee hostel to the next, in Unna, Burbach, Chemnitz and Kamenz. She still doesn't know why.
Since the beginning of the year, she has been living above the bakery, in an apartment she shares with other trainees. The four-room apartment has a shared bath and a shared kitchen. After completing a German course, she was offered a training position at the Wippler Bakery last November. The 33-year-old completed an internship in one month.
Even though she had no residency permit and didn't speak German very well, bakery owner Michael Wippler offered her a traineeship as a pastry chef. "She is very skillful," says Wippler. He believes that work is the best form of integration. "Leila is learning the language and is integrated into society, and the business has a skilled employee."
It has been getting more and more difficult to find people who appreciate the profession, says Wippler. In Moghadam's case, he noticed immediately that she enjoyed the work. This is one reason he wants to see clear decisions coming from the authorities, "because that would encourage other businesses to hire a refugee, as well." Everyone deserves a chance, he says, "whether or not they are refugees."
Moghadam knows she was lucky. "Other refugees spend four or five years looking for work and never find a job," she says, shedding a few tears. Wippler hands her a napkin and gives her a fatherly pat on the back. Her greatest wish is to remain in Germany forever, she says. But at this point she is only in "tolerated" status for half a year, meaning she won't face the possibility of deporation for at least six months. She waited 20 months for a hearing before the immigration authority, and she has been waiting for a decision since July.
But Moghadam isn't willing to simply wait for her future to happen, which is why she attends a German course every day after work. She pays the fees with her meager salary. She would like to open her own small café in downtown Dresden one day, and she says that she only wants to return to Iran when she is very old, "so that I can die there."
The government doesn't know much about people like Leila Moghadam, Dresden hairdresser Jacob Sousani and trainee Said Hashimi in Munich, or about the many foreigners who choose Germany as a safe haven, many of whom want to be German citizens, at least temporarily. It does know that they are younger, on average, than the German and immigrant population already living in the country. In 2014, 32 percent of the people who applied for asylum were under the age of 18, and half of all applicants were between 18 and 35. More men than women are coming to Germany, especially from countries like Syria, countries plagued by war and political persecution. Only a third of all applicants in 2014 were female.
Polarization
But this is where the government's understanding of the refugee situation begins to grow thin. "There are no representative studies on the qualification structure of asylum-seekers and refugees," says Herbert Brücker of the Nuremberg Institute for Employment Research, who has analyzed the existing data. The qualification structure of asylum-seekers and refugees varies. About a fifth apparently have a university degree, but at the same time, 50 to 60 percent have no professional training. "There is hardly anything between these two extremes," says Brücker. "Immigration that falls under asylum law and involving people who come to Germany to join their families leads to polarization." The problem is that the German labor market has a shortage of skilled personnel with moderate qualifications.
For the last four years, the Federal Employment Agency has maintained a "positive list," which is intended to pave the way for labor migration for people from outside the EU. The list includes more than 20 professional groups within 77 professions in which there is a shortage of job applicants, from lightning protection installers to refrigerated warehouse attendants to oncology nurses and aides.
Like most labor market economists, Brücker advocates promoting labor migration more aggressively in the western Balkans and lowering the relevant hurdles. This would make it possible to grant a limited right of residence to people with completed professional training and a guaranteed job at a guaranteed minimum pay level. "The average German language skills in this region are likely to be higher than in many other countries," says Brücker.
There are still many opportunities to improve the situation of refugees and migrants, while easing pressures on the labor market at the same time. People who already live in Germany can be removed from the asylum process and given a right of residence if they have a guaranteed job. People who are highly likely to remain in Germany can be obligated to attend integration courses immediately upon arrival, in order to accelerate integration. There are also other adjustments that can be made when it comes to recognizing professional qualifications, job placement, education and training.
'I Have a Dream'
Promoting labor migration and recruiting intensively for it will not solve the current refugee problem. But it can provide some relief. Above all, labor migration is the key to future-oriented, controlled immigration, which is inevitable in Germany.
Until half a year ago, Said Hashimi had to report to the immigration authority in Munich once every six months to file an application, wait and then file another application.
Now the trainee from Afghanistan is being allowed to remain in Germany temporarily for three years. He doesn't know what will happen after that, but he would like to stay in Munich.
He also has a particular talent that could help to ensure that his wish will come true more quickly than for most other refugees. Hashimi is a kick-boxer, and this year he became the German junior champion for the second time. However, because he has no passport he is unable to compete in international competitions abroad. To solve the problem, his kick-boxing club wants to support him in his bid for naturalization.
Hashimi, the boy who traveled alone from Afghanistan to Munich at the age of 15, wants to compete for the German national team at the European Championship.
He says something that sounds familiar: "I have a dream."
Link:
Back to bottling my Grenache
Rx for Prosperity: German Companies See Refugees as Opportunity
'Very Skillful'
Leila Moghadam filed her asylum application in October 2013, but then had to wait nine months before being allowed to attend a German language course. Now she is standing in front of large loaves of bread, small chocolates and sheet cakes. The Iranian native has been kneading, baking and decorating since 3:30 a.m., when her workday begins. The Wippler Bakery, where she works, opens at 6:00 a.m.
Moghadam managed to find work and something resembling a family 30 minutes from downtown Dresden.
She studied political science in her native Iran. She also owned a shop in Tehran, where she made and sold gift packaging, before fleeing the country for religious reasons. Her journey to a new life in Germany cost her about €8,000 ($9,070). In return, she received a visa and an airline ticket to Dortmund, in western Germany. From there, the authorities sent her from one refugee hostel to the next, in Unna, Burbach, Chemnitz and Kamenz. She still doesn't know why.
Since the beginning of the year, she has been living above the bakery, in an apartment she shares with other trainees. The four-room apartment has a shared bath and a shared kitchen. After completing a German course, she was offered a training position at the Wippler Bakery last November. The 33-year-old completed an internship in one month.
Even though she had no residency permit and didn't speak German very well, bakery owner Michael Wippler offered her a traineeship as a pastry chef. "She is very skillful," says Wippler. He believes that work is the best form of integration. "Leila is learning the language and is integrated into society, and the business has a skilled employee."
It has been getting more and more difficult to find people who appreciate the profession, says Wippler. In Moghadam's case, he noticed immediately that she enjoyed the work. This is one reason he wants to see clear decisions coming from the authorities, "because that would encourage other businesses to hire a refugee, as well." Everyone deserves a chance, he says, "whether or not they are refugees."
Moghadam knows she was lucky. "Other refugees spend four or five years looking for work and never find a job," she says, shedding a few tears. Wippler hands her a napkin and gives her a fatherly pat on the back. Her greatest wish is to remain in Germany forever, she says. But at this point she is only in "tolerated" status for half a year, meaning she won't face the possibility of deporation for at least six months. She waited 20 months for a hearing before the immigration authority, and she has been waiting for a decision since July.
But Moghadam isn't willing to simply wait for her future to happen, which is why she attends a German course every day after work. She pays the fees with her meager salary. She would like to open her own small café in downtown Dresden one day, and she says that she only wants to return to Iran when she is very old, "so that I can die there."
The government doesn't know much about people like Leila Moghadam, Dresden hairdresser Jacob Sousani and trainee Said Hashimi in Munich, or about the many foreigners who choose Germany as a safe haven, many of whom want to be German citizens, at least temporarily. It does know that they are younger, on average, than the German and immigrant population already living in the country. In 2014, 32 percent of the people who applied for asylum were under the age of 18, and half of all applicants were between 18 and 35. More men than women are coming to Germany, especially from countries like Syria, countries plagued by war and political persecution. Only a third of all applicants in 2014 were female.
Polarization
But this is where the government's understanding of the refugee situation begins to grow thin. "There are no representative studies on the qualification structure of asylum-seekers and refugees," says Herbert Brücker of the Nuremberg Institute for Employment Research, who has analyzed the existing data. The qualification structure of asylum-seekers and refugees varies. About a fifth apparently have a university degree, but at the same time, 50 to 60 percent have no professional training. "There is hardly anything between these two extremes," says Brücker. "Immigration that falls under asylum law and involving people who come to Germany to join their families leads to polarization." The problem is that the German labor market has a shortage of skilled personnel with moderate qualifications.
For the last four years, the Federal Employment Agency has maintained a "positive list," which is intended to pave the way for labor migration for people from outside the EU. The list includes more than 20 professional groups within 77 professions in which there is a shortage of job applicants, from lightning protection installers to refrigerated warehouse attendants to oncology nurses and aides.
Like most labor market economists, Brücker advocates promoting labor migration more aggressively in the western Balkans and lowering the relevant hurdles. This would make it possible to grant a limited right of residence to people with completed professional training and a guaranteed job at a guaranteed minimum pay level. "The average German language skills in this region are likely to be higher than in many other countries," says Brücker.
There are still many opportunities to improve the situation of refugees and migrants, while easing pressures on the labor market at the same time. People who already live in Germany can be removed from the asylum process and given a right of residence if they have a guaranteed job. People who are highly likely to remain in Germany can be obligated to attend integration courses immediately upon arrival, in order to accelerate integration. There are also other adjustments that can be made when it comes to recognizing professional qualifications, job placement, education and training.
'I Have a Dream'
Promoting labor migration and recruiting intensively for it will not solve the current refugee problem. But it can provide some relief. Above all, labor migration is the key to future-oriented, controlled immigration, which is inevitable in Germany.
Until half a year ago, Said Hashimi had to report to the immigration authority in Munich once every six months to file an application, wait and then file another application.
Now the trainee from Afghanistan is being allowed to remain in Germany temporarily for three years. He doesn't know what will happen after that, but he would like to stay in Munich.
He also has a particular talent that could help to ensure that his wish will come true more quickly than for most other refugees. Hashimi is a kick-boxer, and this year he became the German junior champion for the second time. However, because he has no passport he is unable to compete in international competitions abroad. To solve the problem, his kick-boxing club wants to support him in his bid for naturalization.
Hashimi, the boy who traveled alone from Afghanistan to Munich at the age of 15, wants to compete for the German national team at the European Championship.
He says something that sounds familiar: "I have a dream."
Link:
Back to bottling my Grenache
