Monu Chhetri’s early years may seem an unlikely prelude to her leadership in Syracuse. First was the death of her father when she was a child and the death of her brother a year later. Then came civil war and the terror of being forced from home at gunpoint, running away in the night, her family’s possessions burning in a heap. The war led to 19 years in a refugee camp. Next came an arranged marriage that made her feel like a bird in a cage and eventually a sudden and unexplained flight halfway-round the world to Syracuse.
She embraced Syracuse with a deep life-saving love. She realized Deaf new Americans like her were experiencing the tremendous isolation associated with being Deaf in a new land. In September 2012, Chhetri started the Deaf New American Community in her home. She knocked on doors whenever she learned of another Deaf new American.
Her work led her to formally found Deaf New American Advocacy early this year as a 501(c)(3) charitable organization. She serves as CEO. In July, she organized and ran the first Deaf New American National Conference, bringing about 150 people to Syracuse for three days. She said there is no other organization in the U.S. for Deaf new Americans, and she would like her work to become a national model. Next up is a farm for refugees to grow their own healthy food.
What might be helpful to her work? One need is a van to transport Deaf new Americans to the farm plot in Kirkville when spring planting begins. For now, she borrows a van from her church. She’s hoping sale of traditional vegetables will get them going for a down payment.
She’s also hoping for donations at her website, www.Deafnewamerican.org, on Giving Tuesday – or anytime year-round.
Chhetri is grateful for the generosity of her Syracuse Nepali Church and the Serve Syracuse organization for office space on Butternut Street. She hopes the day comes when Deaf New American Advocacy will have a permanent location where she and the other volunteers can do their work.
Zenna Preli, an American Sign Language professional, interpreted Chhetri’s answers to questions about her life, her organization, and her ideas on leadership. What does Chhetri see in effective leadership? Passion. Service. Humility. A willingness to listen. Hard work. You could also mix in her own deep reservoir of faith, hope, and love.
Give me a glimpse into your life’s story, especially your formative years.
Well, sure. My great-grandfather was from Nepal, and went as an immigrant to Bhutan. He was a farmer. It was quite a while ago – I’m not even sure when. He went to an area of Bhutan where there was a growing Nepali community.
My dad (Kharka) was an engineer. He was only like 42 years old when he died. I was very young and vaguely remember his funeral. There were so many people in the house. There were people crying, and I realized that my mother was crying, too. I saw something covered in a white cloth, and I was trying to figure out what that was and what had happened, but I was so young I didn’t really understand.
I don’t remember my father really. I wish I had some memories of him. What did he share with me? What did he think of me? How did we interact? I try to conjure them up, but I can’t. But I am fortunate. I have my mom (Mary). My mother understands me as a Deaf person. My mother is who made me who I am today, and she is with me now in Syracuse.
There started to be a civil war in Bhutan. A lot of the people that were originally from Nepal were killed. My mother and her family and I fled through a cornfield. We had to flee or we would’ve been killed. We became refugees back in Nepal. When we were in Bhutan, we had property, we had homes, we had land, we had livestock, pets, everything.
In Nepal, we were living on a riverside, and then the UNHCR (United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees) set up seven different refugee camps. I stayed in one of them. Life there was very difficult. Every day. We didn’t ever know what tomorrow would bring. We didn’t know if there’d be enough food for the next day. We couldn’t make any future plans. If there was a monsoon, the homes would collapse. We had constant flooding and various difficulties like that.
We had strong faith, and we prayed for safety, but it was very difficult. Here I was a Deaf person. There was language deprivation. There was lack of education. Finally, the Save the Children organization set up a small center in the refugee camp to teach sign language.
Nepali people outside the refugee camp could get an education. But we weren’t able to leave the refugee camp for education. Teachers, all outside of the refugee camp, would come to teach us, and then they would leave. Education in the camp was not provided in Nepali Sign Language.
The Deaf students were bullied, and teachers would punish us for not understanding. I got punished every day because I didn’t understand the question, so therefore I could not give answers. The teachers would speak with their back turned or from behind a book. We couldn’t even utilize lip reading. Some of the Deaf students in the refugee camp tried to escape so they could go to school.
Our parents wanted us to have an education, so they sent us to the refugee camp school. But they didn’t realize what was happening or the experiences that we were facing.
As we got older, our Deaf group decided not to go to the hearing school anymore. Instead, we went to a (Save the Children) disability center and met as a group to try to educate ourselves. We made our own resources. We tried to raise money by selling things. As a matter of fact, that is what we’re doing with our organization now in Syracuse – we’re starting from scratch again.
I have had this dream of a centralized place for Deaf individuals since I was a teenager. Now, I’m getting the chance to set up this organization that I dreamed about so many years ago. I hope that the Deaf New American Advocacy Inc. will be replicated as a model to other states on how to appropriately provide services to Deaf new Americans. That’s our goal.
So that I can include your age in your story, when were you born?
Oh (laughing), actually, I don’t know, because there was no official record keeping. I don’t have a birth certificate. When I came here, someone wrote my birthday as June 15, 1985, on an identification card. I could be older, I could be younger, so that’s a really good question. (Laughter)
I asked my mom when I was born, but she’s not sure. Those things weren’t deemed essential in a developing country – here in America it’s very important. My mom is hearing. We developed kind of a homemade sign language. She worked hard to help me be able to lipread her and to make communication happen. Many families with a Deaf child didn’t work that hard. I was very fortunate. My mom is so precious. I just love her so much.
Did you have leadership roles growing up?
Actually I did. I was very frustrated with what I saw in the refugee camp. I went to the hearing school in the refugee camp, and I saw the other Deaf individuals struggling so hard. We were considered uneducable. We didn’t have any resources. I was determined to change it to support the Deaf people in the refugee camp. From a young age, I was a person of hope and of determination.
When I was 14, the refugee camp started to pick individuals that would be sent to get a more formalized education in India. From all seven camps, they could pick four people who were Deaf or blind. They set up interviews, and I was so excited.
By then, my mom was getting up to go to work at 6 in the morning and coming back at 7 at night, doing day labor.
When the interview was happening, my mom was at work, far from the school. I ran to meet her and bring her to the interview. We had no vehicles and we ran everywhere. That has helped me, a Deaf refugee, to run the Syracuse Half Marathon.
At first, my mom wouldn’t give her consent, but I kept telling her, please say yes, please say yes. Finally my mom very reluctantly said, Yes, I will let my daughter go away to school in India for three years.
I packed everything I had, a few bits of clothing, got in line for the train, and took the train for three days to get to the school. I was thrilled!
You have to remember, there was no technology, no cell phones. So by leaving the refugee camp, I was being cut off for my family for three years. I never had a chance to talk with my mother or my family or my friends. Over those years, twice I got a letter in the mail. I would just read those two letters over and again.
We didn’t have money to pay for the school. In exchange for an education, I took care of the children that were Deaf and blind. I would help them get their showers, make sure they had their food, walk with them to different places, help them make sure they got to bed on time. That was the work that I did in exchange for my education.
That’s how I learned some Braille. It was important for our communication, because I’m Deaf, and they’re Deaf and blind. So I had to learn Braille and tactile communication to work with them. I’m not really good with it any longer.
The school in our refugee camp was large. There were 40 or 50 students in a classroom, and no one’s signing. In India, I was with three or four students at a table, and it was taught in sign language.
I was there for three years, and when I went back to the refugee camp, I was ready! I worked as an assistant director, helping the Deaf refugees at the disability center. Many hearing people applied for it, but I was the only Deaf person that applied. They interviewed the hearing people, but they picked me. It was wonderful.
My boss was hearing and knew only basic sign language. That was a bit of a struggle for communication. It was a difficult time, but I made it through. I think that’s where some of my leadership came from; I was determined to not give up.
I wanted to get more education, but there was no funding. Of course my father had passed away. My mother didn’t have any finances. So, I was set up in an arranged marriage. My husband’s family promised I could continue my education. It gave me hope. But after the marriage, my ex-husband said married woman could not go to school. My job is to cook and clean – all the household responsibilities. That’s it. My in-laws depended on me to be the housekeeper and the cook.
My life became very dark. I was terrified that this was going to be my life forever. I became pregnant. I didn’t even know when I got pregnant, so I had no idea when I was going to give birth. (Her daughter is now 14.) I thought my life was over. I really did. I could see all the things that I dreamed of, all the support I’d hoped to give my community, all the things that I had worked on just crashed to the ground. I received no support while pregnant and I was far from my family and had no opportunity to speak with my mom. As they carried me to the hospital, I had my daughter – no doctor, no nurse.
I came to the United States with my ex-husband’s family; I didn’t have any idea of what was happening. Deaf people were treated as a lesser class. My daughter was about a year old. They just motioned for me to sign a piece of paper. I didn’t know what I was signing or why I was signing it. I just knew that whatever was happening was important. Suddenly, I’m on a plane and arriving in Syracuse, New York.
When I arrived in Syracuse, the family members were still treating me as a household servant, expected to cook, clean, and get pregnant. I was isolated for about six months. I didn’t see any other Deaf people. There was nothing, and I was so isolated. I felt alone.
When I finally and slowly began to meet other Deaf people, they taught me that in the United States, I could be independent. I finally left with my daughter and went to Vera House. Vera House helped me to start anew. I sought a divorce, and I was freed. Now, I was free to do the work that I wanted to do. I could get an education. I went to Onondaga Community College. There wasn’t enough money for food, so I would be hungry all day – one apple for the day. That’s where I started to learn American Sign Language. And that’s why I’m here today. It’s because of that education at Onondaga Community College.
I got my own apartment and the Deaf refugee community started coming to meet in my living room. I could do that once I saved myself from the oppression of my marriage. That’s where this all began. The Deaf New American Advocacy started in 2012. It took us a decade, and we were finally established as an official not-for-profit. In September, we had a celebration of our first decade.
I’m not sure if I answered your question clearly, because I get really emotional when I talk about this. (Laughter)
You have since remarried, right?
Yes, I have. This is Jay. (He is sitting next to her.) Actually, it’s an interesting story. I arrived here in 2011 and was in a very dark place. I started to see that American women were equal; I had no plans of marrying again. A friend from New York City told me about Jay Regmi’s project to support Deaf and disabled children in rural areas of Nepal. He gives of his time and his energy for the Deaf community in Nepal, the same as I have, the same as I do here in America.
My friend said, you know, you should support his project. And I said, sure, I’d be happy to do that. So I supported Jay’s project with $50. He saw that I had donated and sent me a Facebook Message thanking me for my support and that’s kind of where it began. We wound up talking, and we became friends, and then we fell in love. It was a long-distant relationship for two years.
My first marriage, the arranged marriage, didn’t work out obviously. So I wanted to first learn and grow and make sure that it was a strong relationship before I married again. I could see that Jay and I had the same passion, the same vision, the same goals. We knew that we’d be able to work well as a team. We’re a family, but we also worked together as a team to support our community. I never imagined that I’d have an opportunity to find someone that I loved and who loved me as much as the two of us do. I never knew what real love was like. And then I met Jay and I saw pureness in his love.
From what I had known of relationships, I thought that all men were the same as my ex-husband. When I met Jay, I learned not all the men are the same. There are men with gentle, soft hearts like Jay, and here he is. On Nov. 19, we celebrated six years of marriage.
And that’s another thing about leadership – don’t assume preconceived notions are correct.
Give me more advice to be an effective leader.
It can’t be as simple as saying I want to become a leader, and then it’ll just happen. Instead, you have to really have a passion. You have to look at your life experiences and the experiences of your community. Growing up, I suffered a great deal and went through a lot to become who I am today.
It’s not easy to be a good leader. You have to give up things. You have to be committed.
Some days you feel like the goals you have are like climbing Everest. Sometimes you’re exhausted and you’re thinking I can’t keep going on this rocky and arduous journey. Some days I feel like there are too many barriers. Sometimes I cry. But I’m not going to give up. I know that those barriers won’t be there forever. And now we’re established as a not for profit. The work has just begun.
A good leader has to be willing to serve your community, whatever they need, whatever their interests are. Find out what those things are so you can address them correctly.
As a Deaf person and as a refugee, those are the people that I know best because we’ve had similar struggles. It’s best when a leader understands the people in the group.
It’s important to bring together a team of leaders that you trust and feel comfortable with. The team needs to understand each other, trust each other, and understand the community well.
I’ll give you an example. In American culture, organizations tend to have a CEO and the vice presidents. There is a hierarchy of people in command. However, for our organization, we don’t have that at all. You know, someone has to be put down as the quote-unquote leader. But everything we do is cooperative. The four of us leading this organization work together. We don’t make decisions without each other. I have skills, and other individuals have skills in their areas. So we talk together and whenever there’s a decision that needs to be made, we give everyone an opportunity to have input. It’s not just a person at the top making the decision. Teamwork is very important.
What qualities do you see in an admirable leader?
A good leader has passion. A good leader is willing to work very hard, not just give lip service. A good leader is there for the hard stuff.
They need to have the heart for the community. They need to be willing to listen carefully and always consider the different cultures that are involved in the group and be respectful of that. They need to be accepting of different cultures and different ideas and different diversity. They need to be willing to understand different groups of individuals. They have to be willing to ask hard questions.
They involve people in the decision-making process so that you can create something healthy and vibrant. By listening and respecting the views of others, you build a great deal of trust.
Any organization that believes in diversity and inclusion should include a budget line for an interpreter.
What attributes do you see in poor leaders?
Well, you can spot poor leaders by what they produce. They ignore the people that they’re supposed to be serving. They see people suffering, but don’t address it. When people try to voice their concerns to them, they ignore them. They don’t listen to the people that they’re serving. They don’t include the group that they’re trying to serve when they make decisions.
Those are the kind of leaders that people don’t want to work with.
If they’re not honest, or if they say one thing, but it never comes to fruition, then we lose trust with them. You have to be able to keep your word.
The weekly “Conversation on Leadership” features Q&A interviews about leadership, success, and innovation. The conversations are condensed and edited. Last week featured Linda Lopez, who talked about the Hallmark movie story of her life.
