Episode #298: Coming To America
“I get 100% of my clients through referrals. Somebody has already been referred to me by somebody who’s learned to trust me, and so that’s how you stay long enough inside a community, then you establish a level of trust."
Maia Storm is an immigration attorney with nearly 25 years of experience who specializes in asylum cases. She is now playing a role in helping refugees fleeing political violence in Myanmar to navigate the often-overwhelming U.S. immigration system. And as her quote indicates, she has established a fair degree of trust within that community. “Most of these people have been active in some kind of anti-coup activity,” she says. “They may even have warrants out for their arrest! So I try to help as many people as I can."
Maia’s journey began working with Burmese refugees in Michigan. She initially assisted them with green cards, citizenship, and family petitions. There was a significant population of Burmese in the area, particularly from Chin State, and as Maia became more involved, she found herself drawn to the country’s culture and complexity. “Since the coup, I’ve gotten even more involved in trying to help people get out of Burma, and once they’re here, to try to help them stay,” she says. “Some of [those we help] are students, and so we apply for political asylum for them. Some come on a visitor's visa, and again, we apply for asylum.”
Before going in the U.S., Thailand is a common first stop for many Burmese refugees. But it is no easy stay. Many face abuse from Thai authorities, and sometimes they are forcibly repatriated back into Myanmar, landing them back in the same peril from which they had fled. For those who manage to evade being sent back, a different set of challenges remain. “I have quite a few clients in Mae Sot, and it’s such a worrisome, horrifying situation” she says. “People there are living hand-to-mouth, frightened, having a horrible time. Those who’ve been forced back can be conscripted. Conscription is another horror—one I make sure is part of my asylum claims for those at risk.”
For those going the asylum route, Maia notes that it is “a process that can take years—it’s complicated, and can be painful because people don’t want to feel like they’re abandoning Burma. They just need to be safe." While seeking asylum in the US remains the most attractive option, refugees also seek help from the UNHCR (United National High Commission for Refugees), which has its own extended process, and one that comes with no guarantees.
In seeking US asylum, obtaining a visa is just the first hurdle, and one that is increasingly getting harder. Even individuals with valid reasons, such as students with full scholarships, are often denied, despite the U.S. government's rhetoric about supporting the Burmese people. Many Burmese must apply repeatedly, sometimes needing to travel to neighboring countries like Vietnam because the Yangon Embassy has frequent closures and has been stingier in issuing visas; but this often only means that applicants get to face rejection somewhere else. Although rarely granted in practice, an option for those who cannot secure a visa is “humanitarian parole,” a mechanism under U.S. law that allows individuals to enter the country temporarily for urgent humanitarian reasons or significant public benefit.
However, for those who are finally able to reach the U.S., the challenges are still immense. Asylum seekers do not have access to government-appointed lawyers, unlike criminal defendants, and without representation, asylum seekers are five times more likely to lose their case! Moreover, immigration court is grueling: judges are overworked, prosecutors aggressive, and the rules opaque. Maia describes the preparation process as exhausting, requiring hours of rehearsal, consistency, and dealing with the trauma that retelling their harrowing stories brings. One thing that is quite helpful to winning their case is good storytelling, as often, the success of a case hinges on these details—minutiae that might seem irrelevant in the big picture but are crucial to establishing credibility. "So much depends on looking the judge or interviewer in the eye and explaining your story. I send it back to the client—'No, I need more details. What was this person's name? The date? How many times did the policeman hit you? Was it sticks, batons, or fists? How many men were there?' Detail after detail, because that’s what makes your story credible.” Maia values authenticity, emphasizing natural language over excessive revisions. "What I love in a statement is mistakes—grammatical mistakes, spelling mistakes, awkward phrasing—because you know what? That person wrote that story from their heart, and that’s what I’m looking for.” Over-polished narratives lose their credibility, especially when created using generative tools like ChatGPT.
If they finally are granted a visa, many Burmese asylum seekers apply for Temporary Protected Status (TPS). This is a designation that provides temporary protection without a clear path to citizenship. Maia elaborates: “We call it TPS, and it doesn't have to be specific to an individual, like 'Oh, if you send me back, they'll arrest me.' No, something has made the country unlivable—be it a hurricane, a coup, or political upheaval. As long as you're from that country, you can be granted TPS.” However, TPS is not a long-term solution, and its temporary nature means many Burmese remain in limbo.
Finally, even making it through the process with at least a minimum positive outcome like TPS or asylum or a visa of some sort, a new set of difficulties kicks in. Many end up in hazardous, low-wage jobs, such as meatpacking, that strip away the illusion of the “American Dream.” Unlike resettled refugees, asylum seekers receive no support and must fend for themselves.
Yet despite the ordeal, time and again, Maia emphasizes the resilience of the Burmese people. “I have not met a Burmese person I’ve worked with who says they don’t want to go back to Burma when this is over. They all want to go back. Sometimes I have to almost literally twist their arms to say, ‘Yes, we will do TPS! Yes, we will do asylum!’ It’s okay to take these protections, and then, when Myanmar is peaceful again, thank America and go home."
Beyond her individual work with clients, Maia runs Mingalabar, an organization that provides immigration aid and advocacy specifically for Burmese people. It also advocates for the release of wrongfully detained individuals, improved prison conditions, and a democratic future for Myanmar, while raising awareness of socio-political challenges.
Maia concludes by stressing again that asylum is more than just a legal process: it’s a fight for dignity, for the right to be heard and seen. Refugees face a system designed to doubt them, one that demands they prove their worthiness of safety. And yet, they persist. They tell their stories, gather their evidence, and confront the future with courage. For many, the journey to safety is far from over, but they continue to hope that one day they will return to a Myanmar that is free and at peace.
If you enjoyed this interview, please consider the following past episodes which you may also find relevant:
· Jake Snyder and Thiri highlight the profound and healing impact of solidarity. Jake, moved by Thiri's harrowing stories on a prior podcast, took action to support her work, demonstrating how empathy and generosity can bridge cultures, time and distances. His commitment helped provide Thiri not only with essential resources, but also a sense of connection and hope, affirming that even distant allies can play a meaningful role in Myanmar’s resistance.
· Kenneth Wong addressed the topic of Burmese refugees, who are struggling with restrictive residency and immigration processes in foreign countries, particularly Thailand. He notes how limited support and the pervasive corruption of Thai authorities trap Burmese migrants in cycles of poverty, and the fear of deportation.
· Su Thit explores the various barriers that Burmese refugees face. In particular, she describes the plight of Burmese military families who have left the regime, and now live in oppressive conditions in Thailand.
· Helene Maria Kyed highlights how defectors struggle to gain legal status or protection abroad, facing bureaucratic and logistical obstacles that make starting anew especially challenging. These barriers create continual hardship for defectors as they navigate uncertain futures, often in border regions without formal status.
· Davin Hartanto discusses how Australian immigration policies impose stringent requirements on Burmese applicants, particularly student and visitor visas. Applicants must prove an intent to return despite the crisis in Myanmar. The policies seem arbitrary, with frequent copy-paste rejections and a high refusal rate, underscoring how bureaucratic obstacles hinder those most in need of safety and stability, ultimately limiting their ability to escape conflict and build new lives elsewhere.