“He’s the coolest dude on the north side!”
Gary Wyatt yelled it into a microphone from a box truck converted into a portable stage — parked Tuesday evening in front of roving kids and families at Patterson Park.
Wyatt, a North Hill neighborhood mainstay, was introducing Akron Police Department Sergeant Damber Subba at one of the city’s National Night Out events before presenting him with a Woodson Center Good Cop Award that honors community policing.
“He’s so cool that you could just come up to tell him what you did wrong because he’s just that kind of guy!”
Subba, 38, told Signal Akron earlier in the day that he is uncomfortable with the recognition but proud of his efforts in the community, particularly as a native Nepali speaker in a city that’s an adopted home to so many Bhutanese refugees like himself.
Subba and his family spent the early years of his life fleeing oppressive government crackdowns on the Lhothshampa people of southern Bhutan before spending 17 years in a refugee camp in Nepal.
When his family was offered the chance to resettle in one of a handful of countries, Subba picked the United States — inspired by a few movies he watched in the refugee camp.
He picked Akron because, well, he didn’t really know why at the time. But it’s a place he’s grateful to now call home.
In his Tuesday interview with Signal Akron, Subba discussed his early life as a refugee, how he became part of the first group of Bhutanese refugees to arrive here in 2008, and how he settled into his career in law enforcement.
‘I never wanted to be a police officer’
Signal Akron: You’ve written a little bit about your experience back in Bhutan and in the refugee camp before you came to the United States. What was your personal experience or perception of law enforcement?
Subba: (laughs) Well, I can tell you this: I never wanted to be a police officer. That wasn’t my thing. Not great.
SA: Why?
Subba: Because I was on one side of the fence. On the other side you have police officers and they love police officers, they love law enforcement, they have a lot of authority and they love it. But on the other side of the fence, you don’t trust them. The reason behind that is because of the systemic segregation that happened to all of us in Bhutan — and that was from the government. It was a small step, and at times it didn’t feel like a big deal, but then the threshold kept moving further and further and it became normalcy at some point. And all that happened there.
Mainly, we were extremely fearful because, over there, the consequences would be, like, physical punishment right away. There was no like going in front of judges or jury — all those things. So basically, the one police officer could pretty much decide how they want to take care of business as far as that goes. For instance, if someone actually gets caught back then — you are not supposed to get out of the barbed wire fence you have to get some paperwork and whatnot — but if you get caught outside, asking for work because you have to feed your family, then you would get in trouble. All this kind of stuff.
SA: This is in the camp?
Subba: In the camp. I can go on and on about a lot of the stuff that went on over there. We were just afraid; I was afraid of the uniform, of police officers, law enforcement or military and never envisioned myself joining that kind of profession. Also, over there, there was this thing called a height requirement and I was shorter than the average Nepali male. The average Nepali male was like 5’3, and I’m 5’1”, so I didn’t quite admit that. But I didn’t have [Nepali] citizenship so I couldn’t even join. But there was a lot of other things that factored in so I never envisioned becoming law enforcement.
‘We lived alongside the bank of a river. Literally … with a tarp’
SA: So you spent 17 years in the camp. When you were in there, did you believe that this was what the rest of your life would be like because you were so young when you went in?
Subba: Yes, so I grew up in camp. I’ve seen people dying from malnutrition, illnesses can come and go, but that was a big deal over there because of the other lack of nutrition, malnutrition, sanitation issues and whatnot. People sacrificed, lost their loved ones in every single family.
If you look at North Hill here and you talk to every single family, most of them, I would say 90 percent of them, lost someone in their family. Like my siblings – I lost a sister and brother just from small stuff. Because we didn’t have a healthcare system and the resources weren’t there.
That six-month period when we fled our country, Bhutan, and went to refuge in Nepal, we lived alongside the bank of a river. Literally in the river, alongside the river, with a tarp. That’s how we lived. That was the time, every single day, you see dead bodies — taking that to the river and cremating them. The way they cremate them back then was basically you’d gather firewood and burn bodies. Back then, you would have at least five or six families in a household and sometimes not a single person would survive and you literally had to shut the door — hypothetical door; it was a tent. So there was a lot of struggle.
I still remember the storms; you know, the wind blowing, and climbing on and clinging on the side of every corner of the tarp with siblings. And I’ve seen people like, you know, committing suicide and fighting all those kinds of things and then at times, there’s a disaster like fire. The whole camp basically burned down to the ground — ashes, nothing left. There is no saving grace, there is no fire department to save you. So all you have is bamboo, banana trees that you chop to try to put out the fire.
I could go on and on, and I’ve seen that. And I’ve seen there was no future there. As I get a little bit older, I started to recognize and realize this wasn’t normal.
SA: So this was how life was for so much of your young life, but you realized it wasn’t normal?
Subba: Yes, this is not the normal thing to experience. And I was pretty smart — people say I was pretty smart, but I don’t know about that — but I feel like I learned, matured pretty early because I also had to take care of siblings and whatnot. So, at the time, I’ve seen people like suffering, committing suicide, hanging themselves, dying from diseases, lack of food, all those kinds of things. So you see your older siblings, your older neighbors growing up there seeing the same situation did not get better — or got worse.
You didn’t even have a right to dream of who you want to become when you grew up. So no, I never thought I would be living in this nice, beautiful place with a roof on top, even having a toilet inside the house, even having nice AC and heat. No, I never dreamed about it. This is really a blessing to me every single day because I never expected to be where I am right now.
‘Rocky,’ ‘Rambo’ and ‘Commando’ movies drew Subba to America
SA: I know you wrote that eventually your family was given an option to choose from some countries to live in, but did your family choose to come to Akron? How did you end up specifically here?
So in early 2008, the resettlement agencies from seven different western countries came to our camp to offer us new life. It was called IOM — International Organization for Migration — they came to our camp and offered us to be part of their community back then and provided us an application. We absolutely did not want to come.
SA: Why?
Subba: Uncertainty. You don’t know — you know no one over there. They speak different languages, they have different cultures, they are different and there are so many other rumors out there back then. But again, a lot of people actually still wanted to go back to Bhutan. That’s our motherland, it’s a patriotic feeling, you left everything there, it’s your forefathers’ place, your place. And there were rumors saying that over there, once you go there, they always basically snatch your kids, your wife, husbands and you never see them again. And all those things are terrifying, right? Petrified. And you don’t know what to believe or don’t believe.
Let alone it was scary. And therefore my parents, my dad, and like many others, especially if they were older … they didn’t want to leave camp because they knew what was happening there, and they could — you know, by then, they already knew how to survive in that way. But coming here, it was a lot of unknown, uncertain. That was the reason people didn’t want to come.
SA: So how did…
Subba: I’ll tell you that (laughs). So then, for me and my older brother — he’s my mentor, my role model. I look up to him. Deep down, like I said, I knew there was no future there. So my mind was, “What could be as bad as this? I’m already at zero level, so I can only go up from here.” So that’s why I actually secretly filled out an application without notifying my dad.
SA: Oh wow.
Subba: Because he was going to be upset. So that’s how I filled out the application to come here…
SA: Did you forge a signature, or …
Subba: No, so I was at the time 20. So by then, I could fill out the application for the family, but my dad had to give us the green light. So it took like a month and a half, two months, to convince him, and he would be drinking every single day because he was so stressed out. And that was the time I took advantage of being able to convince him because he wasn’t really “there” entirely. But, well, every morning I would actually convince him and he’d be like, “OK.” … But later on, when he gets stressed out, he’s drinking a little bit and he would be like, “No, we’re not going there.”
But as far as choosing the U.S., yeah, we could have gone to Canada, Netherlands, Norway, Denmark, New Zealand, England, Australia. But I chose the U.S.
SA: You had the choice of those countries?
Subba: Yes, so I chose the U.S. so I’m here. Somehow, watching movies — like, you know, “Rocky,” “Rambo,” “Commando” — that would slip into camp once in a while, like once a year, you would have to go to a video place and pay some money once a year and that’s how you watch a VCR on a small black-and-white TV. I thought it was a beautiful country back then. I still believe it’s a beautiful country. And I knew somehow, I heard the U.S. was the land of opportunity. Land of the immigrant people. So that’s how I actually applied.
And now, to your question, coming specifically to Akron, Ohio, I’m just an idiot. So what happened was they gave me a map and asked “Where do you want to go?” I could have gone to California, a nice place. I knew nothing. I’m like yeah, I’m going to go over there. And that happened to be Ohio. And here I am still in Akron, Ohio.
Subba: His family was one of Akron’s first Bhutanese refugees to move here in 2008
SA: Were there other Bhutanese refugees in town at the time? Did you know there was a community here?
Subba: No because we were like the first swing, basically, in 2008. The first family came in March 2008, and we came in July 2008.
SA: So that couldn’t have factored into your choice to come here, then?
Subba: No, no — there were like two or three families. We were the first movement, the first wave of immigrant people from our community. So we basically, people actually waited there for us to actually come here and then see how things were, and they would come after us. So we were basically trial and error, repeated. So I jumped there, and that’s how I took a lead.
I started by default helping the community because I already spoke English because we went to [English] school in camp. So people looked up to me because I always, when it comes to my moral character, I was always a good kid with strong values and whatnot. So I started to help in the community and by default, I guess, I became a leader in the community even though I was 20, 21 years old and that’s how really my career started here, and that’s how I became a professional translator, an interpreter, after going to college.
SA: I’m wondering your impression when you first arrived in Akron, specifically because, in college, I spent a month or so in these small, old villages in Bhutan and came back to Northeast Ohio and particularly noticed, like, the Burger King, McDonald’s, McDonald’s, traffic, construction. What was your impression?
Subba: When I landed at JFK airport (near New York City) — it’s one thing to watch movies and see big buildings and towers, but it’s a whole different ballgame when you see them right in front of you. The building and streets, everything is massive here. But then I saw the people like freaking Mount Everest. Pardon my language, I was like, they are also Mount Everest — huge, tall, big. What do they eat? The first impression I had was everything is massive here. Even the chickens are massive, but I found out later it was actually a turkey — that was a funny story right there.
SA: So when you arrived, there were not that many other families in your situation. What’s it been like seeing more and more people come?
Subba: People started to come in 2008 and after 2009 — ‘10, we had more influx. More and more. They started from Nepal and, you know, they started to ask about here and we provided the information they needed and that’s how they, they trusted and how the influx started to happen here. We needed a community, we needed a priest, we needed a shaman — all those things. So that’s how we formed the community here.
SA: I know you became a translator at Akron Children’s — I’m assuming it felt good to have your skills be helpful to these people, right? Did that translate into your desire to at least pursue this career?
Subba: So, going back to [refugee] camp, we had a strong sense of community. We still have it, but not as strong as back then because back then you literally had to rely on each other to survive. But here, you don’t necessarily have to do that, because we have resources. But [translating for refugees at the hospital] gave me a strong sense of community no matter where you go — you gotta be respectful, you gotta rely on people, you gotta be helpful to people. Most importantly, you gotta have empathy for people because everyone has different stories.
So coming here, I’ve seen people have to suffer because of the language barrier, cultural differences. So I just became a translator, an interpreter — really, a cultural broker, navigator pretty much. That gave me so much joy when I saw the grateful, thankful faces. The people, when you help them, they would be so thankful and appreciate it. All you had to do is just go with them, help them out. That’s all you had to do — it would not cost me that much, really, besides your time and just intellectual ability. So that kind of became a profession.
But then also, when I saw in the community, as we started to live here longer, folks started getting in trouble with laws and whatnot, like domestic violence, driving, hunting in the metro park because over there [in Bhutan] it was free game, that kind of stuff. So it’s a piece of education. So my goal was to, in the community — to change the game, you gotta be playing in the field, you cannot be outside of it and cheering and whatnot. You gotta be playing. So I always knew that you gotta take part to make any kind of difference. My goal at the time was purely I always enjoyed helping people.
In a different capacity [as police officer] the plan was still, is still, to be a cultural broker. How can I teach our department and also teach the community about the differences and how we can cohesively, collaboratively [be] able [to] do our job better as a whole? So that’s why I applied.
SA: My understanding is you joined the APD in 2018? How has what you were doing then evolved into what you’re doing now?
Subba: Yes, in 2017 I got a conditional job, but in 2018 I actually hit the road. When I came here initially, I would get a phone call every single day. Some folks, first of all, people in the community would not call police because there was always fear there. Even though you’d be a victim of violence, you would still be fearful [to talk to police].
First of all, you don’t have the language — what do you say? What do you say when police shows up? That’s nerve-wracking. Even as I joined the police it was nerve-wracking for me, too, because that trauma never goes away. That beast always remains there. Then I started going to community events, which they actually invited me as a guest, to explain about law enforcement, explain about APD, what we do.
And gradually they started to realize — once people live longer here, they started to realize, OK, these are people here to help us and I guess they were more empowered. That’s why we have more numbers of [applicants] from immigrant communities to be a police officer; because they gotta see someone up there. Seeing is believing, and that’s absolutely true. And those kinds of things, there are all different incidents that happen in the community and I had to be there to console them, to carry them for that journey, or, at the very least, be there to have a shoulder to cry on for them, someone who could understand and listen. It’s been a journey for me.
SA: What’s your assignment now?
Subba: Until last year I was a patrol sergeant, and now I am a community relations sergeant, which means I take care of community events, and recruiting, and backgrounds.
When he was on patrol, he spoke Nepali ‘every single day’
SA: Your first language is Nepali? How often are you speaking that on the job?
Subba: When it comes to Nepali language, when I was on patrol, every single day. I would be floating around up in North Hill communicating with people. They would call police and officers would call me because of the language barrier out there pretty much every single day. But it could be some small stuff, education purposes, not always like a crime happened. Or sometimes I’ll always be going to a community event and talking to them. So [now], I would say at least twice a week.
SA: I can imagine a person feeling, whether external or internal, extreme pressure because there’s probably more people than you can help … from people in the circumstances you knew so well.
Subba: Sure, you’re right; it’s the obligation part. I think the pressure itself, I think I learned how to handle the pressure. I never actually knew how to opt out — I was always there, right?
SA: So you’d always say yes?
Subba: Yes, yeah, no matter what. And sometimes, I gotta — I’m still struggling how to say no, a life-work balance kind of deal. But then also, it’s my family who supports me a lot, my wife and everyone. They are so honest because they’re from that community.
So my two minutes may not mean that much to me, but that means a lot for someone going through that kind of experience. So at times, it’s definitely challenging, especially when you have to go and do a death notification, especially the ones that go through tragic incidents because that does not just go away. That trauma stays. I’m exposed to a lot because I can be the only one there for like a savior, almost like a beacon of hope in a way; that’s what they believe, and I’m just thankful to be in a situation where I can help the department, city, community.
Suggested Reading
SA: I’m trying to put myself in your shoes, but I feel like I would get burnt out pretty quickly.
Subba: Well you have some folks, this is not for everyone. And I don’t blame them, either, because you have your life …I’m not any kind of special, anything like that; I’m just a normal guy just like anyone else. But it does require, really, I think, you just have to have that kind of empathy and discipline. And you really got to be passionate and have compassion toward human beings, humanity. I think my life experience is really the driving force. And my family, obviously, my mom, that ultimately gives me the energy to keep going, to not turn down anyone who calls me for help, which I get all the time.
‘I came from the jungle and I’m here right now, so I think I did all right’
SA: Where do you imagine your career going from here? What do you want to do professionally?
Subba: Hopefully, I will get promoted as lieutenant. Right now, I’m [a] sergeant. So I would like to see how far I can go as far as moving up the ladder. The reason is, first of all, I want to challenge myself so that one day, when I can tell this story when I get older to my kids that, hey, I came from the jungle and I’m here right now, so I think I did all right. So that’s so motivation.
So really for selfish reasons I want to challenge myself and, also, not that I’m saying that I would be a great leader, anything like that, but I would try to be a good leader, I think I would do a good job in leadership positions where I can —because I always believe in a servant-leadership mindset. People come first, community comes first. So policy wise, the community, society and law enforcement, this department has to evolve. This profession also has to evolve, and I think I’m pretty adaptable and I’m a really forward-looking guy.
SA: If the 15-year-old version of yourself, inside the refugee camp, saw a snapshot of you now, what would he say?
Subba: If I had a time machine to be able to go back to 15-year-old me, Damber Subba, he would not believe me right now. The things that I’ve accomplished — and I have not accomplished that much by the way, but living in the U.S. is an accomplishment and that’s a blessing from the U.S. government actually, that I’m right here, in a beautiful house, beautiful community, beautiful country, living a life. That would be, basically, a movie kind of thing. I could not even have imagined because you have to have perspective to imagine.
