As yet another deadly airstrike bombed a village in the Southeast Asian country of Myanmar in mid-August, a young woman named Noreen sat in her Clarkston, GA apartment and cried. She had grown up in the village and lived there with her family until the military overthrew the country’s democratically elected ruling party in February 2021. Homes and temples were destroyed, and children were killed by the bombing. Noreen has no idea when or how she’ll learn if family members are safe.
As independent journalists in Myanmar, Noreen and her husband wrote about the military’s brutal killings and atrocities against civilians and ethnic minority groups. She told me that she wanted to “report the truth and give a voice to the hurt people.” The military, in one form or another, has ruled the country much of the time since Myanmar (also known as Burma) gained its independence in 1948 from British colonizers who ruled for more than a century.
Not long after the coup four years ago, Noreen and her family—her husband, mother, and two young children—fled to a neighboring country. The military had begun its campaign of terror against journalists reporting on human rights abuses. The army was looking for her.
Last December, with resettlement papers in hand, Noreen’s family finally arrived in Atlanta as refugees. They were some of the lucky ones. The suspension of refugee resettlement by a Trump executive order came only weeks later on Inauguration Day, January 20, 2025. The action left more than 100,000 people stranded, some in airports with tickets in hand. These refugees had been conditionally approved for resettlement through the most rigorous screening of any foreign citizen coming to the United States.
For decades, refugees have moved to Atlanta for a better life. The UN Refugee Agency says that Georgia “regularly ranks as one of the top ten most welcoming states in America, resettling about 2500-3500 refugees each year.” We are fortunate to have excellent nonprofit organizations, many faith-based, that help families transition to their new lives. However, their ability to provide refugees with educational, medical, and cultural resources is being severely constrained by Trump’s directives and budget cuts.
Serving Refugee Women
A volunteer with All Saints’ Refugee Ministries suggested that Noreen contact Refugee Women’s Network, when she expressed an interest in hiking. RWN is the only nonprofit in Georgia specifically serving refugee women, as it has for the past 25 years. It helps them become leaders in their homes, businesses, and communities. Through the organization’s popular outdoors and wellness educational programs, the women can build confidence, make friends, develop new skills, and find ways to heal in nature.
I met Noreen on a warm morning in July, when I joined an RWN hiking group of two dozen women in the Chattahoochee River National Recreation Area. They were from Afghanistan, Syria, Iraq, Mexico, Burma, and the Democratic Republic of the Congo. As we walked along the riverside trail together, Noreen told me her story in a calm, lilting voice. Her pleasure in being outside in nature was obvious. It was unsafe for her to walk anywhere alone in Burma—her preferred name for her country—but she loved walking in her village with her friends. Through RWN, she has found similar comfort in meeting other refugee women: survivors of war, persecution, and violence in their countries.
Leadership Training
Temple Moore’s friendly smile immediately conveys confidence and warmth. She is tall, athletic, and loves different cultures. After decades of working with refugees and asylum seekers in the United States and other countries, she has found her professional home as the director of RWN’s community health programs. She told me she was privileged to grow up in Atlanta—able to swim, bike, camp, and hike—and wants to share these skills with the refugee women who find their way to RWN.
Five years ago, Temple created RWN’s first outdoor wellness initiative with classes and group events in safe spaces. The program now serves 120 women annually—providing transportation, gear, interpretation, meals, and childcare: everything they need to participate. As she told me, “Once you take away the barriers, people can find their own healing outdoors. They discover you don’t have to speak the same language to learn new skills, gain confidence, and bond in nature.”
Earlier this year, I attended a dinner where RWN celebrated the bravery and competence of dozens of new hikers, swimmers, bikers, campers, and kayakers. Based on the high rate of success and participant enthusiasm, RWN plans to expand the program this fall. Temple is excited about promoting physical health, mental well-being, and leadership training for more refugee women and youth, including those with mobility challenges. By leveraging the resources and expertise of local leaders in Georgia’s outdoor industry and environmental groups, she is sure to accomplish her goals.
During our hike along the Chattahoochee, Temple urged each of us to “take sips of gratitude” from our water bottles and, if comfortable, voice our appreciation for the good things in our lives. It was an inspiring moment. I saw Noreen smiling; in a few weeks, she and I will meet again on a kayaking adventure organized by RWN and Georgia Rivers. While bombs fall and national governmental officials refuse to give safe harbor to other humans fleeing unspeakable atrocities, nonprofits like RWN offer welcoming embraces and safety.
For more information, visit refugeewomensnetworkinc.org.