"It takes a certain amount of love for humanity."

Jakob Keel is one of the founding members of Focus Refugees, Queeramnesty's mentoring program that supports queer refugees on a personal and legal level. In this interview, he talks about the challenges this volunteer work entails and what motivates him to continue even after so many years.

Text: Irene Müller

Jakob Keel, how did you get involved with Queeramnesty?

When I learned about Queeramnesty and its work with refugees in 2012, I knew immediately that I wanted to get involved. I had lived abroad for a long time and traveled extensively. During that time, I realized how fortunate I was to have grown up in Zurich in the 1970s and 80s – and in a very liberal family, no less. My homosexuality was never an issue. When I ventured out into the world, I saw that it was anything but a given and how terribly many people suffer because of it. And not just in countries that still have the death penalty. That's why it clicked for me right away.

Since then, you've been an active mentor in the Focus Refugees subgroup and have already supported dozens of people through the asylum process. What specific impact do you have?

When I talk to people about the beginnings of their mentoring, they often say: "The best thing was that someone finally listened, without any mistrust or hostility." This human, mental, and emotional support is invaluable. On a practical level, I act as a liaison between them and lawyers, social workers, and so on—especially when there are communication barriers. The problem isn't always language. There are also people who struggle to express themselves clearly or are very shy. It's particularly valuable when I can help someone prepare for their hearing at the State Secretariat for Migration (SEM)—the most crucial day of an asylum process. Because even if people had compelling reasons to flee, many don't know how to present them convincingly and understandably.

Jakob Keel ist seit über zehn Jahren Mentor aus Überzeugung. (Bild: Shubham Misra)

What were the most rewarding successes where you thought: Now I could really make a difference?

When someone is granted asylum, and this was made possible through my support, it fills me with satisfaction. Even when things don't turn out so well, but the person is still grateful, those are equally encouraging moments.

What are difficult moments?

The asylum process is an incredibly complex system, and its impact on asylum seekers is far more brutal than most people can imagine. It's incredibly frustrating when truly unjust situations arise, and you have to explain this to a vulnerable person, seeing the misery in their face. It's also terrible how many people I've accompanied who arrived here healthy only to be made ill by the system. They had experienced terrible things, but they were able to process the trauma and arrived with hope. However, the often years-long wait without being allowed to work, the feeling of being crammed together with complete strangers united only by the hope of asylum, the constant fear of not receiving it and being deported – all of this, unfortunately, far too often leads to mental illness. Over time, I've had to visit many people in psychiatric clinics who arrived in Switzerland mentally healthy.

"However, if a person arrives here healthy and becomes so mentally ill as a result of our system that they no longer see any meaning in life, then this is downplayed or even denied."

How does that make you feel?

It frustrates and angers me. We live in a society where it's constantly emphasized that mental health is just as valuable as physical health. People who say, "I can't go on anymore," and are despairing about their work or family life are no longer laughed at. Because burnout, for example, is recognized as a medical condition. However, if someone arrives here healthy and is then made so mentally ill by our system that they see no meaning in life anymore, it's downplayed or even denied. More often than I care to remember, I've received messages like, "Thank you for everything you've done for me, but I don't want to live anymore, I can't take it anymore." These people then end up in psychiatric care because of their suicide attempts. That's the worst thing for me.

What are Queeramnesty's chances of changing anything here in the future?

Due to the complex asylum process, it is often very difficult to influence the procedures. But we are working on it and have already made significant progress over the years. The fact that more than 70 people volunteer their time and do fantastic work without earning a single franc is already remarkable. However, the rapid growth of Focus Refugees is also somewhat overwhelming for us as an organization. One challenge now is how to define our services so that they are of the greatest possible benefit to everyone who seeks our help. Even if we ultimately cannot support everyone in exactly the same way, we must provide a fair service that does not discriminate against anyone through unequal treatment.

Does the job as a mentor ever become too much?

Yes, that can happen. There are extreme examples of refugees who become aggressive. Often they aren't even aware of it. But they are in such a miserable situation that they start messaging you day and night. In such cases, you have to set boundaries and, for example, introduce something like office hours.

"The more knowledge of human nature one has gained through one's own life or professional experience, the more helpful that is."

How much time and emotional resources does volunteering as a mentor require?

I find it difficult to quantify. You have to ask yourself: Do I want to and can I dedicate myself to volunteering for extremely vulnerable people? Anyone who thinks this through carefully quickly realizes that it can't be measured in a specific number of hours per week, nor in some kind of " unit of measurement " of emotions. You have to be prepared to commit to something that might involve ten hours of work a week, depending on the urgency of a situation. For the next three months, a quick WhatsApp message to check in and see if everything is alright might suffice. This kind of volunteer work isn't as predictable or calculable as, say, meeting every Saturday morning from 10 a.m. to noon to clean up the forest. And if this unpredictability doesn't suit you, it's probably not the right thing for you in the first place.

What else should one bring to such a mentoring program?

It requires a certain amount of empathy. Because many unpleasant things can happen. Someone might react negatively to something that was well-intentioned. You have to be able to handle that. Generally speaking, I would say: the more understanding of human nature you have through your own life or professional experience, the more helpful it is. Because such mentoring can involve a great deal of unpredictability on a purely human and emotional level.

Have you ever had moments where you reached your limits?

Sometimes I have to pull myself together to keep going. Like with everything, my motivation fluctuates. But generally, I still do this work with great passion because I see the impact it has. And that inspires me time and time again.