Community planning

Each of these photos represents a person with skills, talents, obstacles and dreams just like everyone else. That’s the way Åre municipality views refugees coming to their region. “We refer to everyone as newcomers. These people have been through so much as refugees before they get here so once they arrive, they are no longer a refugee and their next chapter begins”, Mattias Sjölundh the head of Åre Kommun’s Newcomer Service told me.

Åre Kommun (Municipal Government), in charge of providing on arrival settlement services, uses this board to track each person’s journey for the first couple of years after arriving in the region. People move between different categories which include the orientation program, Swedish classes, education and training courses, and employment in different companies. Vacant jobs are listed in the right column as they arise to help match potential employees.

It’s a simple yet effective technique which allows staff to retain an individual focus and make sure no-one slips through the cracks. That’s the benefit of coming to a small municipality like Åre as a refugee. “Last year we went through the 400 faces and there were only a handful of people we weren’t sure what they were doing”, Mattias told me.

The friendly team at Åre Kommun takes every opportunity to get to know their new neighbours. Monthly outdoor recreational activities such as cross-country skiing are not only a way to teach newcomers to enjoy (and stay warm!) in Åre’s magnificent nature, but also a way for staff and newcomers get to know one another in a relaxed setting. This is important when it comes to finding the right match for a job.

The team also spends a lot of time working with employers to identify vacancies and understand exactly what kind of employee they are looking for. Knowing the newcomers’ characters and personalities helps place the best person for the job. Thanks to the region’s reputation as a world-renowned ski destination and the growing crowd of mountain bike enthusiasts in the summer, there is no shortage of jobs. While the seasonal nature of work makes it difficult to find year-round employment with one company, the board system helps to coordinate different jobs for people at different times of the year.

“We want them to feel like we’ve been waiting for them, and that we want them here”, Mattias Sjölundh.

The whole system of support for newcomers in Åre is geared toward making an individual welcome which builds on strengths. ‘Former refugees’ aren’t people to be ‘helped’, but a vital part of the region’s growth and prosperity. In 2010 Åre’s population was steadily declining with 10,300 residents, but now thanks to the newcomers it has grown to over 11,200 people.

In Åre, welcoming people means valuing what each and every individual has to offer and finding ways to put this into practice. It’s intensive work, but you can now find a newcomer working within almost every business across the region. And the relationships formed between newcomers, their employers and colleagues pay dividends at a social level and boosts the community’s overall acceptance of newcomers.

Of the many newcomers that have arrived in Åre over the past couple of years, 8 out of 10 people are in employment and 90% have stayed in the town.

When I visited an Intensive Swedish for Immigrants class in Järpen I asked how many people had a Swedish neighbour they are friends with. I was surprised to see 2/3 of the class raise their hands!
A ‘welcoming community’ is a concept that’s difficult to measure but if the students’ response is any indication, Åre’s got something pretty special going on.

Lofoten depends on its fisheries for its livelihood. Ever since the Viking Age, the chain of islands has played an important role in fishing for Norwegian Arctic cod which spawn in their millions during the Winter months. Even today, the industry follows an ancient preservation technique which involves gutting, heading and cleaning the fish, tying them together in pairs by the tail and hanging them up to dry naturally on wooden racks for about 3 months.

The historical significance of the cod extends far beyond Lofoten. Since the 11^th Century it was the cod that gave Norway the power and money necessary to establish the church, an administration, monarchy and government, and eventually their own parliament. It is said that the most important weapon of the Vikings was the cod, which not only served as a commodity but also a nutritious food with no expiry date that made it possible to survive on long voyages.

The picturesque, rural municipality of Flakstad was built on fishing and it continues to be the main employer. The region is also rapidly becoming a popular destination for tourists attracted to the northern aurora lights, outdoor activities and spectacular scenery.  

The trouble is there’s not enough people to do the jobs. Most of the work available is lower level factory or trade-related work. But as society has developed, Norwegian people are no longer interested in these jobs. It’s a vicious circle – with few professional jobs available, educated young people see no alternative but to move to the mainland. This stops new jobs from being created and also leads to a declining population. In the year 2000, Flakstad had around 1500 inhabitants spread across 20 villages, but now there’s only 1292.

Bringing in seasonal workers from Eastern Europe has offered a short-term fix. Temporary workers, mostly from Poland and Lithuania, are flown in by recruitment agencies for 3-4 months at a time. But the local community wants them to stay. With only 90 children in the primary and secondary school they are struggling to stay afloat. The shrinking tax base is compromising the local economy. And the employers need a reliable workforce that they can depend upon.

Part of the challenge is the seasonality of the work, which means employers can only guarantee employment for a short part of the year. So some of the companies came up with the idea that the fishery and tourism-related businesses could get together alongside other businesses to map out a year’s worth of work which could be offered to workers who are interested to stay.

And this turned into the immigrant retention project “From Seasonal Worker to Flakstad Inhabitants”. They started by speaking with the seasonal workers to understand their experiences. Seasonal workers who start at a company involved with the project in Flakstad now complete a questionnaire with detailed information about their prior work experience, skills and personal motivations. Ultimately, the goal is to offer each person – and their spouse – meaningful work year-long.

This confirmed there was interest to stay, but that it wasn’t just jobs that was stopping people. “The society has a bigger problem recruiting people than the industry does”, Hilde Rødås Johnsen told me. She works for SALT, a consultancy working with the municipal government on the project. “We found out that an important factor for people to want to make a life in Flakstad and bring their family to join them is feeling part of the community”. And at the moment they are very much on the outside. As a seasonal worker there is little opportunity to learn the Norwegian language or join any social and community activities.

The findings have been incorporated as a key part of Flakstad Municipality’s 2019-2031 Community Plan. While the need started with stable employment, the focus is now just as much on how to make sure people feel included in the community. This has spurred on a number of smaller projects such as ‘The Meeting Place’, initiated by the municipality. A new space where amongst other activities, locals and immigrants can meet to get to know each other. It’s a smart idea. Start with the newcomers already in the community and focus on keeping them. And what better way to do this than by asking the newcomers themselves. 

While the project is in its early days, if early progress is any indication, immigrants might just be the answer to keeping Norway’s treasured cod fishing industry alive.

Legend has it that the population explosion which took Brooks, Alberta by surprise in the 1990s was all predicted by one man who was chased out of town!

When the owners of the town’s meat processing plant sold to a multinational company in 1994, a University Professor from the US who had heard about the sale arrived in town. He went to talk with locals, the Chamber of Commerce – really anyone who would listen – and ended up in a meeting with City Council.

The man gave a cautionary message. He told them that he had been studying meat processing plants for the last 30 years of his life and warned them of the significant change about to happen within their community. He advised that it was impossible to predict exactly what this would look like but that the population was likely to double in size, and that there would be many people arriving who look different, talk different and come from different backgrounds. “One thing is clear”, he said, “you will have to adapt and change”. City Council quickly dismissed the man’s message as fear mongering and chased him out of town.

St Cloud, Minnesota shares a similar past. When PM Beef processing plant in the nearby town of Marshall closed down in 2015, over 250 employees found themselves suddenly without work. Many of these were Somali refugees who, in urgent need of a job, moved to St Cloud which was the closest major town. Since then the population of Somalis in St Cloud has boomed and is at just over 10,000 in a city of 100,000 people. Locals credit this to the initial critical mass of Somalis that moved there following PM Beef’s closure, which then sparked others to relocate from different parts of the US. St Cloud is doing well in terms of settling its new residents but there is still a real sense of concern amongst some people about the rapid pace of change. And this has caused divisions within the community.

You will see this trend no matter where you go in the world, Australia included. Meat processing companies are a major employer of low or semi-skilled workers, jobs often filled by migrants or refugees. The companies are usually pretty switched on at how to recruit and retain refugee employees. Working in an abattoir is not the most appealing job, so offering incentives like accommodation, transport to-and-from work and English language classes in the workplace can help sweeten the deal.

This impacts on communities. And when business can be the trigger for large scale demographic changes, how can community members be brought along as key stakeholders to plan and prepare? Trends like those associated with the meat processing industry are well documented, so the worst thing we can do is stick our head in the sand and ignore possible impacts. Surprises for any community will lead to conflict, so careful planning and community involvement is key.