America’s Only School for Refugee Girls Offers Hope
Shahida, 15, wears a bright blue dress and a tightly wrapped black hijab, radiating a gentle calmness. Seated at a table in her school library, she inhales deeply as she begins to reflect on her story.
“When we came to America, it was hard for us because there were a lot of people,” she says. Her family was among the more than 100,000 Afghans airlifted to safety by the U.S. military after the fall of Kabul in 2021.
“In the plane, it was not one of those planes that has seats — it was just an empty plane,” says Shahida. She describes sitting on the floor for hours, holding on to others as the plane tilted and swayed.
The journey didn’t end there. Shahida’s father, Lufthullah, recalls spending two weeks at a camp in Qatar, then flying to Germany, then to Washington D.C., then to an air-force base in New Mexico, until finally arriving in Georgia by early November 2021. Due to malnutrition and exhaustion, Shahida remembers getting so sick she “could barely hold [her] eyes open,”
But her father, Lufthullah, doesn’t complain about their experience. “I don’t blame anybody for not providing enough food or the basic necessities of life,” he says, adding that those who made it out of Afghanistan are used to “a life like that” and “being tough.”
After three months in transition, Shahida’s family settled in Clarkston, Georgia, a well-known hub for refugees since the 1970s. She’s now a student at the only school in the United States dedicated exclusively to refugee girls, Global Village Project (GVP), where 75 percent of students are refugees from Afghanistan. The remaining students hail from Guatemala, the Democratic Republic of Congo, the Central African Republic, Chad, Syria, Myanmar, Sudan, Rwanda, and Ethiopia, collectively speaking at least 15 different languages.
“I’m very happy that I’m here now,” says Shahida. She contrasts her current life today with the difficulties faced at the DeKalb County International Student Center, the public school she briefly attended upon arrival. She spoke no English and had little support.
“She struggled so much,” says Lufthullah. But after her father discovered GVP through their family’s resettlement agency, New American Pathways, she transferred and was taught to read, write, and speak English. She is also taking classes in math, science, and leadership skills. She visibly brightens when talking about her favorite class: typing.
While Shahida has found a safe landing after a difficult journey, her story is an outlier among that of other refugee girls across the United States who are forced to navigate an educational system that is fraught with obstacles. Today, just 37 percent of refugee children worldwide in the United States pursue an education beyond primary school, according to the United Nations.
“For many of our students, this is their first time ever being in school,” says Hannah Edber, GVP’s Director of Education. “Our students have experienced either a very interrupted education or never had any kind of formal education before.”
Shahida and her friend Marhab, 17, reflect on the fear they felt while attending school in Afghanistan leading up to the Taliban’s prohibition on girls’ secondary education in September 2021.
“I was not happy going to school in Afghanistan, because I couldn’t read or write in my own language. I was scared to go,” says Marhab. “The teachers were not good. They were not teaching us with kindness or respect.”
Shahida nods and chimes in. “Back in my country, I used to go to school, but I didn’t like the teachers, because if you didn’t do your homework, they would try to hurt you.”
While Marhab and Shahida’s experiences reflect the challenges faced by many Afghan students, teachers themselves bear the brunt of the Taliban’s hardline policies. Under Taliban rule, educators, especially women, have worked under the constant threat of violence and retribution, leaving little room for autonomy or pedagogical freedom. Many are compelled to teach within an oppressive framework, with minimal resources and overwhelming fear shaping their classrooms. This harsh reality compounds the struggles of both students and teachers, creating an environment where education often falls short of its transformative potential.
While many refugee girls enter the United States with little to no previous academic experience or English comprehension, they are also often expected to help run their households by performing domestic duties, providing childcare, and helping their parents navigate American culture. All of these factors can lead to a sense of isolation and helplessness for refugee girls in the average American classroom.
“When there are girls in the back of the class who aren’t speaking or advancing, it can be really easy in an under-resourced school to just kind of move them along. A teacher only has so much energy and time in her day. Then it becomes much more of a systemic problem than a problem with that teacher,” says Edber.
Georgia is one among 39 states that “critically underfunds” its K-12 public schools, according to a 2024 report from the Albert Shanker Institute. The report found that nearly 85 percent of Georgia classrooms lack adequate funding to achieve national average outcomes, which include benchmarks like sufficient per-pupil spending to enable students to meet performance standards and proficiency goals.
Meanwhile, the number of non-native English-speaking students, who often require additional resources and specialized instruction, continues to grow in the state. Although 41 percent of public school teachers in the United States have had English learners in their classrooms, many have not received the training needed to effectively teach them, leaving a critical gap in classroom support. Research shows that classrooms led by trained English as a Second Language (ESL) educators see significant improvements in test scores and overall academic performance among English learners. Despite these benefits, only 24 percent of elementary teacher preparation programs nationwide include training in ESL education, highlighting a critical gap in teacher preparation.
Global Village Project seeks to bridge this gap by creating small classroom environments and keeping a low teacher-to-student ratio, allowing teachers to personalize the academic experience according to each student’s unique needs. Research points to the benefit of small class sizes. Tennessee’s Project STAR found that early-grade students in classes containing 13 to 17 students showed substantial improvements in cognitive skills like reading and arithmetic, with effects persisting into later grades. These benefits are particularly significant for students from disadvantaged backgrounds.
“I think often in schools, we’re measuring students against a perceived norm. And I think often that norm is someone who was born in the U.S., who is neuro-typical, who has resources at home or in their community that the school is not going to be asked to provide — and we see students who deviate from that as aberrant,” says Edber.
When given the necessary support and resources, Edber has seen refugee girls thrive beyond the classroom. “Our students are phenomenal people,” she says. “They are funny and brave and resilient and full of life and hope. They also have significant academic needs and often significant emotional needs, and we are poised to meet that.”
GVP faculty encourage students to draw from what they already know from their home language and experiences as they teach them the English language and American culture. They want the girls to feel inspired to see their heritage as a source of pride rather than something to be hidden. Edber says some students feel more attached to their home culture while others are eager to embody an American identity.
“Many of our students come from very collective cultures where they make all their decisions as a family, and that feels right to them,” says Edber. “While other students will be quite interested in adopting some of the more American individualized way of being, where they say ‘you know what, I want to make my own decisions.’”
Rather than forcefully directing a student down any one path, GVP works alongside each girl to help her discover the path that makes the most sense for her, protecting and preserving her heritage and paving the way for her future. For some, this could mean not pursuing higher education, opting to stay home to help her family after graduating from GVP’s program, while others go on to pursue distinguished careers.
The re-emergence of president-elect Donald Trump punctuates persistent fears among some Americans about migrants and refugees in the United States, including concerns over how non-native English speakers might affect classrooms. Though grievances surrounding immigration have dramatically risen among Americans in the past three years, recent evidence has suggested that refugee and immigrant students can enhance academic environments when given the resources to thrive.
“There are a lot of myths around immigration, and around immigrants, that scapegoat newcomers to our country who are very vulnerable and blame them for our country’s economic failures,” says Edber. She sees her students not as obstacles for their American-born peers, but as determined contributors to society.
“Welcoming refugees is an opportunity for all of us born here [in America] to connect our values to the lives of others, expanding what sociologist Helen Fein would call our ‘universe of obligation,’” says Edber.
Shahida dreams of becoming a teacher or perhaps a nurse. “I want to be a nurse because in my country; we don’t have women nurses or doctors. So I want to help my country,” she says, with resolute conviction. She imagines training in the United States and returning home to inspire other Afghan women to see their potential and rise to meet it, reshaping their futures and their communities.