I am a daughter of Syria. Not in the typical sense; I was born and raised in Chicago, Illinois. But my roots, traced back through my father, anchored me firmly in the rich, historical soil of Aleppo, one of the oldest continuously inhabited cities in the world. My Nana and Jido left their life and family behind when they made the trip to America in the 1970s, but they passed on their stories to me. I vividly recall sitting at my Nana’s kitchen counter as a little girl, begging her to tell me story after story of her life in Aleppo. I absorbed these tales as a child, dreaming of a land I had only visited once at the age of three and barely remember. 

As much as I hoped for an opportunity to go back, the start of the bitter revolution in 2011 meant that chances were slim. Given that a significant number of Syrians displaced by the war fled to Turkiye, my dad and I saw a unique opportunity to learn about Syria through a visit there. In the summer of 2022, as a middle school graduation present, my parents surprised me with a trip. While of course, we did plenty of sightseeing and learning about Turkish culture, my parents had prior knowledge of and involvement with Karam Foundation, so they thought it was an excellent opportunity for me to visit Karam House, community centers in both Istanbul and Reyhanli. Now, a year later, I am writing this piece as a summer intern for Karam– I was so moved by my visit that it inspired me to reach out to see if there were any ways for me to help out their organization while I was free this summer. 

The day after we flew into Istanbul airport, a member of the Karam team came to pick us up and take us to Karam House Istanbul. Even though the name includes the word “house”, I had rather naively anticipated a sterile, corporate facility somewhat like a cross between a hospital and a school. What I saw surprised me: a beautiful, stately house, with an interior that immediately felt “cozy.” On our tour, I especially enjoyed the library filled with books that I either recognized or had read myself; I even contributed a few books I had brought from home to their existing collection. The “makerspace” amazed me even more; a room chock-full of state-of-the-art machines such as 3D printers, Laser Cutters, and quite a few power tools. We also peeked into a few of the studios filled with students learning, working hard, and even having fun. When it came time for lunch, the children and staff gathered in the lower-level kitchen around a long rectangular table to enjoy a delicious meal of traditional Syrian food– the meal and camaraderie created a palpable sense of family and community.

After lunch, we adjourned to the living room area, where I played a board game with a few of the Karam students who were around my age. I couldn’t believe how easily we overcame the obvious language barriers between us and just enjoyed each other’s company. I then sat in on a talk my dad gave about entrepreneurship, and by the time we left, I had experienced a truly amazing day.

After another day of exploring Istanbul, we hopped on a plane to the Turkish city of Antakya, where we took a tour and spent the night in a hotel that doubled as a museum. The next day, Osama, another Karam team member, picked us up and took us to the border town of Reyhanli, home to the second Karam house. On the way, the Turkishpolice pulled us over, which took me by surprise, but Osama handled it perfectly. When we finally arrived at the Reyhanli house – different, but just as cozy as the Istanbul house –  we again started with a tour. This time when we stepped in to watch a little bit of one of the studios – this one about marketing techniques – I found the material so fascinating that I decided to join the studio rather than go back downstairs to listen to my dad give another talk about entrepreneurship. The mentor of the studio spoke English, while a translator repeated the content in Arabic for the local students. Toward the end, they Zoomed in a different Syrian entrepreneur who had fled Syria a few years before, and it was incredibly cool getting to hear his story. Then, for lunch, everyone in the house again gathered together, this time in the beautiful backyard garden. During lunch, a girl named Numi, who is about my age and spoke relatively fluent English, sat next to me. She asked me what it was like living in the United States and told me that it was her dream to live here. At one point, I complimented a ring that she was wearing, and in a moving display of generosity, she gave it to me– I still have it. We exchanged our Snapchat handles and stayed in touch for months afterward.

After leaving the Reyhanli house, we drove as close as possible to the wall separating Turkiye from Syria– an 800-kilometer, 3-meter-high wall topped with razor wire. Even more distressing than that though, was what we could see beyond it. The refugee camp of Atma lay just behind the wall, a maze of ramshackle huts that is home to over 160,000 people. Words cannot express how I felt when looking over that wall– it was a deeply visceral and impactful experience that left an indelible mark on my consciousness. The sheer scale of it was both staggering and heartbreaking, with makeshift tents or temporary shelters crammed together, stretching as far as the eye could see, often lacking even the most basic amenities.

Overall, this trip I took with my dad easily ranks among the best trips of my life– due in large part to our experiences with Karam. Never before had I felt so connected to my heritage, and standing by that wall is likely the closest thing I will ever experience to being in Syria again for the rest of my life. I learned a lot, both about the turbulent situation between Turkiye and Syria, and also about Karam Foundation and just how much impact they have on the lives of Syrian refugees. By investing in their education, Karam Foundation equips them with the knowledge and skills necessary to rebuild their lives and contribute positively to society. Without this vital intervention, many of these children would be deprived of quality education, limiting their opportunities and perpetuating the abhorrent cycle of poverty and displacement. I would even go so far as to say that they transform the entire trajectory of these young lives, ensuring that Syrian refugees have the chance to build a better future.

Margaret Yagan
Age 15
Chicago, IL

About the Author:

Margaret Yagan is a fifteen-year-old rising sophomore at the University of Chicago Laboratory Schools. She was born and raised in Chicago, Illinois, and is currently interning with the Karam Foundation. She is an avid reader and writer who also participates in her school’s Model UN team, and dreams of a career in either law or politics to make a difference in the world. She has been interested in social justice from a young age, especially in refugee politics, as she is a granddaughter of Syrian immigrants herself.