GRAND ISLAND – Ekram Saleh sat in a classroom, surrounded by immigrants from countries like Mexico, Guatemala and Sudan. They listened as the county’s election commissioner talked about voting. 

Here are your rights, the commissioner explained. Here’s how you can register. Here’s who represents your district on the city council. And also – our county, Hall County, needs poll workers to run every election.

Saleh was then a newly minted U.S. citizen, a Sudanese native who didn’t know that being a poll worker was a way she could serve her new country. 

The next day, she went straight to the Department of Motor Vehicles and signed up to be an election volunteer. In her first election, she both helped as a poll worker – and voted, too. 

That’s a story you hear around the offices of Elevate Grand Island, a leadership program geared towards this central Nebraska city’s growing and increasingly diverse immigrant population. 

Think of Elevate as a crash course in getting to know your city – learning your voting rights, connecting with local nonprofits, meeting first responders and police leaders. 

The hope is that it’s helping Grand Island's immigrant communities become more civically engaged, much like Saleh did during the 2022 Election.  

That they'll grow professionally. That they'll feel welcome. Feel they belong here. 

The ultimate goal: That they'll feel emboldened to run for public office, and if elected, help make Grand Island’s board and councils look more like the city they represent. 

Grand Island is now 36% people of color, and 18.5% foreign-born. 

The city of 52,944 has not, to this point, elected a mayor who is a person of color.

The only people of color currently holding any elected office in the city are believed to be two Latino school board members, Eric Garcia-Mendez and Carlos Barcenas, they said, after Sen. Ray Aguilar narrowly lost re-election to the Nebraska Legislature.

"It's not rocket science, right? We're just getting people connected and resourced," Garcia-Mendez said. "But it's kind of life-changing for a lot of participants...We are deciding to include and value community members who have historically just been left in the dark."

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The idea of Elevate began during the pandemic, when workers at Heartland United Way realized there was no leadership program specifically for immigrants in Grand Island. 

They looked to a similar program in Lincoln as inspiration, and asked the Grand Island nonprofit Leadership Unlimited if it could take on another professional development program – a condensed, 7-week course tailored to the immigrant experience. 

Elevate provides childcare during the weekly sessions to make it easier to attend. The program is free. It’s designed to be open to any foreign-born Grand Islander, regardless of whether they have lived in the country for a few months or 25 years. 

The application doesn’t ask immigration status. 

Potential donors questioned that decision, said Jessica Hendricks, executive director of Leadership Unlimited. 

"We don't ask for any of our other programs," she said. "Why would we ask for this one? Just come as you are. Come learn."

The first cohort started in 2022. Since then, Grand Island residents hailing from 12 countries have participated. 

Some of these countries are war-torn and poverty stricken. Some of the participants are caught in immigration red tape and desperately hoping to gain citizenship.

But in this classroom, the outside chaos of the world seems to fade, said Maria Vasquez, the program’s director.

On a recent Tuesday, immigrants from countries like Mexico, the Philippines, Somalia and Cuba sit at long classroom tables, folded name tents before each of them. 

They learn about banking and credit scores. They talk through the details of retirement plans and 401(k)s. They discuss business plans and loan applications, their dreams of starting clothing shops and getting into real estate. 

“We are all affected by what’s going on outside of those doors, but the moment we come into that room, it’s almost like none of that exists,” Vasquez said. “We can create our own world where we are kind to each other, we are respectful of each other’s cultures.” 

When they finish the program, participants get a $1,000 scholarship to use on professional development. 

"We've had people ask, 'Well, can I put this towards my kids' college?'” Hendricks said. “No. It's not for them. It's for you. I want you to continue down this path of…personal advancement." 

One participant, a doctor in his home country, used the money to complete medical certifications in the U.S. Another finished her business degree. 

Before, she worked in a school cafeteria. 

Now she works at the bank, teaching finance classes in Spanish. 

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Elevate Grand Island always starts with a history lesson. 

"This place...has always been inhabited by immigrants," said Chris Hochstetler, executive director of the Stuhr Museum. "And that seems to be forgotten." 

Hochstetler takes each class as far back as the region's first inhabitants – the Pawnee, who migrated here from the Mississippi River Valley. 

He tells them about the German settlers who founded Grand Island in 1857. Shortly after came a wave of Latino and Japanese immigrants, pulled here by the railroad, sugar beet factories and cattle. The museum has records of ranching cowboys from Senegal. 

"It's not like people just came here by accident. They were actively recruited across the world to come here and work those blue collar jobs," Hochstetler said. "I tell them a bit about that story so that folks can understand that this is not something that is isolated to their experience. It's something that has been going on in our community since 1857." 

Hochstetler's history lesson often brings participants to tears. One woman said she’d lived in Grand Island for 20 years, and didn’t feel fully connected until learning its long immigrant history. Melissa Zurcher, an immigrant from Mexico, said it still gives her chills to think about it. 

“When you come here from another country, you don’t feel a part of the (new) country,” Zurcher said. “That first presentation…touched my heart. You feel like I'm a part of something. Not just right now, but from history.” 

Carlos Barcenas, who sits on the school board for Grand Island Public Schools, said it sometimes takes decades for an immigrant to feel comfortable and confident enough to start participating in the city’s civic and political life. Barcenas came to Grand Island as a first-generation immigrant from Mexico 30 years ago. He senses the city changing.  

“We have more and more people that are serving on boards that are bilingual,” Barcenas said. “There are a lot of people that are very involved, whether it’s a PTO or they’re a board member at a nonprofit, or a committee. They’re there. It’s just not such a public position.” 

But it’s those public elected positions that Hendricks hopes Elevate participants will run for one day. 

Grand Island doesn’t track the racial identity of its city council members. But a review of council rosters since 1998 shows only one Latino member – Jose Zapata – besides Aguilar’s short stint on the council after being appointed in 1996. 

Aguilar was also Grand Island’s first and thus far only Latino state senator. He served a total of 15 years in the Legislature before being ousted this fall by Dan Quick, a white Democrat from Grand Island. Aguilar could not be reached for comment. 

In Grand Island Public Schools – a district that’s 67% students of color – there are two Latino members on a nine-member board.

Barcenas was the first Latino elected to that board when he ran in 2012, he said. Garcia-Mendez, the child of Guatemalan and Mexican immigrants, became the second. 

Garcia-Mendez said his experience mirrors that of many Grand Island students. Spanish-speaking parents are more comfortable seeking help from a board member who speaks Spanish. They’re often surprised to see a young Latino man on the board, he said.

Electing a wide range of backgrounds and experiences makes a board more effective, Barcenas said. 

“As a board member, do I represent only my Mexican immigrants? I don’t. I represent the people in my ward,” Barcenas said. “It goes beyond ethnicity…It’s a line of having a diversity of thought, having intercultural competence. And just knowing who’s in your community.” 

But hurdles can keep first-generation immigrants from running for office, like language barriers and learning a new government system and how public meetings are run, he said. The time commitment and hours of work for either a small stipend or no pay can deter working parents from running as well.  

Grand Island reflects national trends – a Harvard University study this year found that people of color are drastically underrepresented in local government. While city council members tend to be slightly more diverse, local elected officials are generally whiter than their communities. 

“We’re really trying to empower and build leaders in our community that come from all over, and that can represent all of the demographics here in Grand Island,” Vasquez said.  

So far, no Elevate participants have run for office. But they have been inspired to get involved in their community in other ways. 

Since participating in Elevate, Zurcher started her own business, and opened a storefront selling charcuterie boards and sandwiches. She wants to create flexible jobs for other moms with small kids.

Naily Mhadji-Issa came to Nebraska feeling sad and isolated, far from her home in France. Elevate helped her meet other immigrant moms. She and other Elevate participants have pulled together a group of about 15 African moms who get together every month. She’s on multiple boards throughout Grand Island. And she tells everyone they should apply for Elevate. 

“Even the cashier at Walmart,” she said. “It should be mandatory. Everybody should do that when you come to America.” 

Saleh has now volunteered as a poll worker in three elections. She helps translate for Arabic speakers, and tells her friends, go vote, I’ll be there. I can help. 

I don’t know what I would do if you weren’t here,” one voter told her. 

She’s convinced three other friends – all Sudanese and Arabic speakers – to volunteer at the polls. 

And she’s not sure when. But one day she wants to run for office.