A gift and a curse, asylum seekers face a complex and often challenging journey in their search for safety and refuge. On one hand, seeking asylum is a gift of hope, a chance to escape persecution and violence in their home countries. On the other hand, the asylum process itself can be a curse, filled with bureaucratic hurdles and emotional hardships. For many asylum seekers, leaving their homes and loved ones behind is a difficult decision to make. They may have faced threats, violence, or discrimination in their home countries, forcing them to flee in search of safety and protection. The decision to seek asylum is often the only viable option for survival, making it a gift that offers them a chance at a better future.
Photo: Courtesy of Simon and Schuster
Munson s dimples inspired artists of many stripes, including Beaux Arts-style sculptors like Adolph Alexander Weinman and Daniel Chester French, the Bohemians of MacDougal Alley, and avant-garde painters like Francis Picabia. He tracked down the only surviving copy of her second film, Purity , which was presumed lost until it turned up in a private French pornography collection in the 1990s.
The decision to seek asylum is often the only viable option for survival, making it a gift that offers them a chance at a better future. However, the asylum process can be daunting and complex. Asylum seekers often face long waiting periods, uncertain outcomes, and limited resources.
The cursed island before Rikers: Learning from the story of Blackwell’s Island
With plans to close Rikers Island underway, note that this isn’t the first time New York City’s leaders judged its correctional facilities so hopelessly irredeemable that the only thing to do was start over — or believed that moving cells from one place to another would solve social injustices outside the jail gates.
Over a hundred years ago, when prisons were located on Roosevelt Island, then called Blackwell’s Island, the grim story was much the same. After purchasing the island in 1828, the city built a penitentiary for men and women who’d been convicted of serious crimes. Later came a workhouse for those who committed what today we call quality-of-life offenses, such as disorderly conduct, intoxication or vagrancy.
Then came a lunatic asylum, an almshouse, hospitals. Exiling the poor, the mad and the criminal to the same isolated piece of land reinforced a destructive association that persists to this day — that the mentally ill are dangerous and the poor are criminals in disguise.
New York’s criminal justice system evolved to support these beliefs, and the groups sentenced confirmed this bias. “Disorderly conduct,” for instance, came to mean whatever the police and the courts wanted it to mean, to imprison whichever group they wanted to target. In the 19th century, that was the Irish and women who didn’t know their place. In time, some city courts acquired the nickname “the Poor Men’s Courts,’ because the cases of the wealthy were often dismissed by judges who’d been bought off, or merely paid their fine or bail and went home.
That left the poor, who were taken to a large reception area upon arrival at Blackwell’s, where they were shaved, stripped naked and publicly scrubbed before being doubled up in cells that, at barely seven feet high, three and a half feet wide, and seven feet deep, couldn’t be said to humanely fit one person. Every morning, the inmates were led to the East River to dump their chamberpots.
Quarantining inmates allowed guards to treat their charges however they wanted. These were criminals, after all, and they had it coming.
Although originally intended as institutions of reform, the penitentiary and workhouse became infamous as training grounds for criminals. Inmates weren’t redeemed; they were damned. Teenage girls who’d been sent to Blackwell’s for disorderly conduct were sometimes met upon discharge by a seemingly kind woman. She’d then take them back to a dive, drug them, and thrust them into service as prostitutes. Now “fallen women,” they spent the rest of their lives in and out of prison.
Finally conceding the problem, the city paid $180,000 for Rikers Island in 1884. Commissioners who oversaw Blackwell’s visited prisons all over the country, studying their designs, and confident the modern facilities were going to “return the prisoner to society better than when he entered it, not worse, as is the case today.” It took 52 years to build Rikers Island facilities and move the last inmates from one island to another.
Riker’sRikers is now recognized as one of the worst jail complexes in the U.S. The city simply recreated all the problems it had before, only this time with plumbing, and on an island that was harder to get to than Blackwell’s.
Rikers is beyond redemption and must be shut down, but no matter how state-of-the-art new facilities will be, they won’t fix the underlying inequities.
As almost every group who has studied Rikers has advised, we must stop isolating inmates with limited oversight, where prisoners are cut off from friends, family and other support. The system of bail, blatantly discriminatory against the poor, also has to end.
But to simply relocate the prosecution of poverty isn’t enough. We must reject the bias of criminal justice that lands as squarely on the poor now as it did a century ago. Where are the standing armies of police to investigate the crimes of the elite the way we monitor the crimes of those in poverty? Why a war on drugs and not a war on financial crime? If Rikers Island had been filled with an equal number of bankers and corporate executives, it would never have become the crisis of human misery it is today.
When city officials laid the cornerstone for the Rikers penitentiary, they knew history was not going to look back kindly on what had transpired on Blackwell’s Island, and tried to pre-empt future criticism in a statement that read: “We did the best we knew how in the light of such knowledge and understanding as was given us.” Well, we now have two centuries worth of mistakes to inform us. Let’s not repeat them.
Horn is the author of “Damnation Island: Poor, Sick, Mad, and Criminal in 19th-Century New York.”
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Over a hundred years ago, when prisons were located on Roosevelt Island, then called Blackwell’s Island, the grim story was much the same. After purchasing the island in 1828, the city built a penitentiary for men and women who’d been convicted of serious crimes. Later came a workhouse for those who committed what today we call quality-of-life offenses, such as disorderly conduct, intoxication or vagrancy.
They may be subjected to rigorous interviews, background checks, and numerous legal procedures that can be confusing and overwhelming. The uncertainty and prolonged waiting can take a toll on their mental health and well-being, turning the asylum process into a curse. Furthermore, asylum seekers may face social and economic challenges in the host country. Language barriers, cultural differences, and lack of support systems can increase their vulnerability and isolation. They may struggle to find employment, housing, and access to basic services, adding to the burdens of their already challenging journey. The gift and the curse of seeking asylum is not limited to the asylum seekers themselves but also extends to the host communities and governments. While providing safety and protection to those in need is a noble act, it can strain resources, infrastructure, and local economies. The burden of accommodating and integrating large numbers of asylum seekers can lead to social tensions and political debates, making it a complex issue for both the asylum seekers and the host countries. In conclusion, seeking asylum is both a gift and a curse. It offers hope and protection to those fleeing persecution and violence, but it also presents numerous challenges and uncertainties. The asylum process can be a complex and emotionally draining journey for asylum seekers, testing their resilience and strength. It is essential for host countries and communities to provide support and resources to ensure that the gift of seeking asylum does not turn into an overwhelming curse..
Reviews for "Asylum Seekers: The Journey from Hope to Desperation"
1. John - 2 stars - I had high hopes for "A Gift and a Curse Asylum Sles" based on the intriguing synopsis, but I was sorely disappointed. The characters lacked depth, the plot was predictable, and the writing style was mediocre at best. I found it difficult to connect with any of the characters and the story felt like it was dragging on without any clear direction. Overall, it was a lackluster read that didn't live up to the hype.
2. Sarah - 1 star - I couldn't even finish "A Gift and a Curse Asylum Sles" because it was so poorly written. The grammar and punctuation errors were numerous and distracting. The dialogue felt forced and unnatural, making it difficult to believe in any of the characters or the story they were trying to tell. I had high hopes for this book, but it fell flat in every aspect. I wouldn't recommend wasting your time on this one.
3. Emily - 2 stars - "A Gift and a Curse Asylum Sles" had an interesting premise, but it failed to deliver on its potential. The pacing was off, with long periods of boredom followed by rushed and chaotic action scenes. The world-building was also weak, leaving me with more questions than answers. The main character lacked depth and her motivations were unclear. Overall, the execution of the story fell short of my expectations and I was left feeling unsatisfied.