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REMARKS BY:	DONNA E. SHALALA, SECRETARY OF HEALTH AND HUMAN SERVICES
PLACE:		The National Office of Refugee Resettlement Conference, Washington, D.C.
DATE:		November 15, 1999

I have a few speechmaking rules, and one of them is: Do not bore the audience with football cliches. But I hope you'll indulge me just this one time. For those of you who have been following the legislative process, we are now in our version of the "two minute drill." That means we're getting lot done in a very short time.

Today, I'm very pleased to announce that last week Congress passed and sent to the President a three-year extension of the Refugee and Entrant Assistance program. The President signed this lifesaving bill on Saturday. Now, the Office of Refugee Resettlement will be able to continue to fund critical services for the Kosovar refugees and other victims of persecution.

With that thought, I want to take a moment to thank Lavinia for her extraordinary leadership of ORR. Lavinia was essentially our Supreme Allied Commander at Fort Dix - coordinating the work of many agencies, and doing it with a firm hand and a sense of humor. She even kept the real generals hopping.

It goes without saying that this has been an extraordinary year for ORR, and all of the national and local volunteer organizations that have literally been a lifeline for the refugees from Kosovo. So I also want to thank to each and every one of you. Who says we live in an age without heroes? You are all heroes to me - and to the forsaken in every corner of the globe.

Refugees are more often than not born amidst the furies of war. But out of tragedy comes triumph - as one generation's war becomes the next generation's newest flock of American children. I mention this because in 1944 - during a war that displaced millions - the great American jurist, Learned Hand, gave a speech honoring the spirit of liberty. Hand said: "Some of us have chosen America as the land of our adoption; the rest have come from those who did the same . . . What was the object that nerved us to this choice? We sought liberty; freedom from oppression; freedom from want; freedom to be ourselves."

Those freedoms, of course, are what drove the Kosovars to risk hardship, separation from their families - and even death - to reach Fort Dix. But the will to find freedom must be matched by the will to live in freedom - which is not always easy when you are a stranger in a strange land, overwhelmed by confusion, loneliness and grief.

So I know I echo the words of Vietnamese in 1975. Cubans in 1980. Kurds in 1995. And Kosovars this year when I say simply - and with deep appreciation: Thank God for the Office of Refugee Resettlement, and for all of its partners - from the Public Health Service and CDC to SAMHSA and the Office of Emergency Preparedness. And from the U.S. Military to the Red Cross and all of the private and international organizations still working on the front lines. Together, you kept this humanitarian crisis from becoming a humanitarian catastrophe.

At last year's ORR conference, I talked about the three paramount challenges we face in protecting refugees. My remarks today will be less programmatic. But I just want to remind you what those three challenges are. Prevention - using our military, political and moral authority to keep the peace and stop the cruel conflicts - and ethnic cleansing - that drive the innocent to flee. Innovation - tailoring resettlement services to meet the special needs of each wave of refugees. And Inclusion - making sure that refugees receive all the help they need.

Almost as if on cue this year - and with very little warning - we proved we had what it takes to meet all these challenges. The President took the lead on prevention by telling the world - and backing up his words with force - that we would not stand by while over a million Kosovars where threatened with annihilation.

The President's tough actions won the day. NATO prevailed - and a wider conflict that could have engulfed much of Europe was prevented. But while the conflict was ongoing, tens of thousands of Kosovars found themselves stranded on the border between desperation and hope.

You helped carry them across.

Vice President Gore made a commitment that the United States would take up to 20,000 of the refugees. Because the war ended quickly, we did not need to bring all 20,000 here. Still, in just over two months, the team at Fort Dix - working with refugee organizations around the world - resettled over 4,000 refugees. But not before delivering the wonderful Baby American and six other babies. There were literally women getting off the plane at Fort Dix and going into labor.

That's what I mean about being innovative and inclusive in the delivery of services to the refugees. Not only were expectant mothers taken care of, every refugee received a health screening. Some of the refugees had not seen a doctor in ten years, so primary care was available. Prescription drugs were available. There was dentist - and a 24-hour emergency room.

I had the privilege of seeing the miracles you worked when I twice visited the Kosovar refugees at Fort Dix. The first time with the First Lady. As you know, the stories the Kosovar refugees told almost defy imagination. Families forcibly separated. Husbands and sons murdered. Women raped. Children forced to watch their parents killed and then left to flee on their own. Houses burned to the ground. Identity papers stolen.

But let me say this loud and clear: If I learned one thing on my trips to Fort Dix, I learned that tyrants can murder you - but they cannot murder the memory of you. They can steal your identity papers, but they cannot steal your will to live. And they can force you into exile, but they cannot stop the world from responding with an open heart and an extended hand. That's what I saw when I went to Fort Dix.

Amid the tears and sorrow. Amid the confusion and pain - everywhere there were open hearts and extended hands. I saw them at a town meeting of the refugees. I saw them at the health clinic - which, by the way, our military built in just three days. I saw them when I held a private meeting with about ten refugee women. And most of all I saw them in the faces of the children.

Since the theme of this conference is "Resettlement Through the Eyes of a Refugee Child," let me say a few words about children.

As you know, one of the reasons President Clinton was determined to fight the war in Kosovo was his passionate belief that ethnic hatred - the curse of 20th century - must not become the curse of the 21st century. Well, let me tell you, anyone who doubts our common humanity need look no further than the children of Kosovo.

Despite their long journey. Despite their inability to speak English. And despite finding themselves in an unfamiliar place surrounded by unfamiliar people - these children insisted on, you guessed it: Acting like children.

They played. They laughed. They hugged. And they never stopped loving life.

When I was coming out of the clinic, I noticed one little boy - around 6 or 7 - kneeling down paying attention to a bird. I asked him what he was doing. He picked up the bird and handed it to me. Its wing was broken. The boy wanted me to help heal the bird. One of the military officers took the bird.

I told the little boy we would try our best to help.

What I found so moving about this moment was that boy clearly empathized with the bird. He was feeling wounded too. But not so much that he had lost his compassion or humanity. At that moment, I was also struck by the fact that the boy was out exploring on his own. Once again the Fort Dix team was being innovative and inclusive by creating an environment that was safe for children. I don't mean just safe enough to let them play - I mean safe enough that their parents felt comfortable letting them play.

Given what these parents had been through, I think we all half-expected they would not let their children out their sights. But because everyone involved with this effort was looking at resettlement through the eyes of children, a playground was built. There were soccer matches - some with other school children from the Fort Dix area. There was also singing, therapeutic art classes - and help with English.

I attended one of the ESL classes for children. It was one of my favorite moments. All of the children were writing out thank you messages to the President in crayon. I told them I was going to be seeing the President soon and I would give him their notes - which I did.

The fact is, we probably did a better job caring for the needs of the Kosovo children than any other group of refugee children in history. That's because we now have more research about what these children need, and because we've been guided by advocates for refugee children who have spoken loud and clear at previous resettlement conferences.

Now I want to be clear myself: We did more than just provide health care and a safe place for these children to play. When they came to Fort Dix they found something else. Something we really didn't plan, but which may have a more profound impact on their lives than anything else.

They saw a microcosm of America.

Women and men. Military and civilian. Professional and volunteer. All races. All sizes. All ages. And all working together - for the love of them, and for the love of each other. For a group of children who had just been lifted from the fires of ethnic cleansing - there could be no better message.

Looking at resettlement through the eyes of refugee children cannot - and does not - mean we forget about their parents. Just the opposite. When we strengthen parents - especially women who have lost their husbands - we are strengthening the sustaining bond of love and nurturing that every refugee child depends on.

We helped parents by assuring them that their children were safe. We helped parents by offering mental health services. And we helped parents by working 24 hours 7 days a week to get them out Fort Dix and into their new homes as quickly as possible.

I have to tell you about one young Kosovar woman I met at Fort Dix who helped make those 7-day workweeks so productive. Her name is - I love this - Lilly Shala. One more "la" and she could be HHS Secretary. Lilly spoke fluent English and acted as an interpreter for me when I spoke privately with Kosovo women - helping me understand the depths of their sorrow, and the hopes they felt for their children.

Lilly was resettled in Alexandria, Virginia - and was hired by Catholic Charities. She has also joined our Refugee Women's Network. This extraordinary Network is now a public-private partnership dedicated to helping refugee women - like Lilly - identify their strengths, and become leaders in the refugee community.

Lilly Shala is with us today - and I would like to recognize her at this time.

Since Veterans Day was just last Thursday, I want to say a few words about why so many of these refugees wanted to come to America in the first place. When I went to Fort Dix, I couldn't help thinking about my own grandfather coming through Ellis Island from his native Lebanon. He understood the meaning of America - that for 223 years this has been the new Promised Land. The courage of his decision to find his way here - no matter how difficult the journey - made the life I've lived possible. Today, there are young Kosovar children who will grow up in freedom and achieve their full potential because of the courage their parents and grandparents showed in coming to Fort Dix. They will be blessed with the same freedom my family has been blessed with.

And perhaps some day in the next century, one of those children - having reached adulthood and a position of trust - will travel to Fort Dix - or another safe haven on our shores - and greet a new group of refugees. In this country, that can happen.

Again, I want to thank you for your service. Your courage. And your compassion. The terrible images are no longer on our television screens. The sounds of children laughing are no longer ringing through Fort Dix. But your invaluable work goes on.

And so does the American dream.

Thank you.