{"id":7747,"date":"2025-07-28T12:24:23","date_gmt":"2025-07-28T12:24:23","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/musineinstitute.org\/normalization-between-kosovo-and-serbia-as-a-development-opportunity-also-for-non-serbs-and-non-albanians\/"},"modified":"2025-07-28T12:24:44","modified_gmt":"2025-07-28T12:24:44","slug":"normalization-between-kosovo-and-serbia-as-a-development-opportunity-also-for-non-serbs-and-non-albanians","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/musineinstitute.org\/en\/normalization-between-kosovo-and-serbia-as-a-development-opportunity-also-for-non-serbs-and-non-albanians\/","title":{"rendered":"Normalization between Kosovo and Serbia as a Development Opportunity also for Non-Serbs and Non-Albanians"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

The more normalization, both social and neighborly, the more we can have intercommunity normalization as well. More development and employment. Especially for the Ashkali community. Especially from the normalization between Kosovo and Serbia.<\/strong><\/p>\n\n

Written by: Selamir Qerimi<\/strong><\/p>\n\n

\u201cSelamir, you are not like the others, you are like us.\u201d This is a sentence I often heard in elementary and secondary school. It was as if they were telling me that I was not like the other members of my Ashkali community, that I was \u201cbetter\u201d.<\/p>\n\n

I don\u2019t deny that this made me proud and relieved. I believed I was different. That I had crossed the boundaries of my community and had a special status. What a joy! I was accepted by others who saw me as \u201cone of their own\u201d.<\/p>\n\n

But now, when I remember it, I feel ashamed. I realize that this kind of distinction was not an honor, but a clear expression of racism.<\/p>\n\n

This experience was a bitter awakening. I realized that what had seemed like appreciation was actually a form of internalized discrimination. I had unknowingly accepted the narrative that my community was “inferior” and that my success was measured by how far I distanced myself from it.<\/p>\n\n

This made me distance myself and try to conform to the expectations of the \u201csuperiors,\u201d unintentionally rejecting a part of my identity. This internalized discrimination was not harmless. It influenced my decisions, the way I saw myself, and my ambitions.<\/p>\n\n

A similar experience is also lived by the Ashkali community in areas with a Serb majority\u2014among other \u201csuperiors\u201d.<\/p>\n\n

To live as an \u201cinferior\u201d caught between two antagonistic \u201csuperiorities\u201d seeking normalization of their relations. This is almost the daily reality for the Ashkali people. Or at least, it was mine.<\/p>\n\n

But no matter how much I tried to erase my distinctiveness in the eyes of the \u201csuperiors,\u201d it was still there. I could feel it. Especially when it came to the public, social, and state spheres \u2014 integration, representation, inclusion in the common. That was where I didn\u2019t feel \u201cbetter\u201d than other members of my community. That was where I was simply Selamir, the Ashkali.<\/p>\n\n

I experienced how stigma and prejudice, even when subjective, lead to self-exclusion already in high school. I dreamed of enrolling in the Military Academy. It was a calling I felt deeply\u2014a desire for discipline and to serve my country. But every time I thought about taking that step, I hesitated and felt afraid. Not because of physical or intellectual challenges, but because of the prejudice about the prejudice\u2014that I would be seen as Ashkali. The idea of being judged terrified me. I feared that sooner or later I would have to face how I was truly seen.<\/p>\n\n

I didn\u2019t have the courage to apply. I convinced myself that maybe it wasn\u2019t the right path, that maybe I didn\u2019t love the profession that much. It was an escape fueled by fear.<\/p>\n\n

The deep internalization of prejudice made me my own biggest obstacle. When I realized I couldn\u2019t continue like that, I had to find a way to break this chain and reclaim what had been denied to me\u2014not by others, but by myself.<\/p>\n\n

I began working on rebuilding my self-confidence. In fact, I realized quite late that success isn\u2019t measured by how far I distance myself from my culture, but by how much I can leverage what it offers me to enhance my potential.<\/p>\n\n

This was the moment I began seeking opportunities that connected me with my passion, with what truly belonged to me. While trying to develop myself and challenge the norms, I learned that the opportunities available are endless for those who dare to break the barriers set by others.<\/p>\n\n

I chose journalism. I knew it was a bold step, but also an opportunity to express myself and challenge the perceptions I had about myself. Journalism gave me the chance to change my approach and to fight for the rights of those who often don\u2019t have the opportunity to speak up for themselves.<\/p>\n\n

During my professional journey, I have faced challenging moments, but also moments that helped me better understand myself as a journalist, and above all, as an individual.<\/p>\n\n

One experience I must highlight was a job interview at a media outlet. After a long conversation, the person in charge reviewed my application and told me, “I’m glad you are part of the Ashkali community and I want you on the team.” At first, his words seemed like a welcoming door. But the longer I thought about them, the more I felt an invisible weight, a shadow of doubt hanging over those words.<\/p>\n\n

It was clear \u2014 he didn\u2019t see me for what I had built with dedication, but for what I represented in his eyes. It wasn\u2019t my skills that weighed on his decision, but my ethnic identity, a label that, instead of affirming me, confined me within a preconceived framework.<\/p>\n\n

At that moment, I felt an urgent need to set a boundary, a line that should not be crossed. Calmly, but with determination, I told him: \u201cIf this offer comes solely because of my ethnic background, then I cannot accept it. Above all else, I want to be valued for my professionalism, my skills, and my dedication \u2014 not for something that has nothing to do with the work I know and want to do\u201d.<\/p>\n\n

He was silent for a moment. Then, after reflecting, he said: “I understand, and you are right.” At that moment, I knew \u2014 I was not rejecting an opportunity, but affirming my value as a professional.<\/p>\n\n

This is my personal experience of the benefit of the normalization of an individual from a community that tends to be stigmatized collectively. A normalization that creates opportunities for everyone and should be encouraged by all.<\/p>\n\n

The more normalization there is both socially and between neighbors the more intercommunity normalization we can achieve. More development and employment, especially for the Ashkali community. Particularly from the normalization between Kosovo and Serbia.<\/p>\n\n

(The author is a journalist at T7 television based in Prishtina, Kosovo. This publication was made possible within the framework of the project \u201cDialogue, Solution, Future,\u201d supported by the Federal Foreign Office of the Federal Republic of Germany, implemented by the New Social Initiative (NSI) and the Musine Kokalari Institute for Social Policies. Its content is the sole responsibility of the New Social Initiative (NSI) and the Musine Kokalari Institute for Social Policies. It does not necessarily reflect the views of the Federal Foreign Office of the Federal Republic of Germany).<\/strong><\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

The more normalization, both social and neighborly, the more we can have intercommunity normalization as well. More development and employment. Especially for the Ashkali community. Especially through the normalization between Kosovo and Serbia.<\/p>\n

Written by: Selamir Qerimi<\/p>\n

\u201cSelamir, you are not like the others, you are like us.\u201d This is a sentence I often heard in elementary and high school. It was as if I was being told that I was not like the other members of my Ashkali community, that I was \u201cbetter.\u201d<\/p>\n

I do not deny that this made me proud and relieved. I believed I was different. That I had crossed the boundaries of my community and had a special status. What a joy! I was accepted by others who saw me as \u201cone of their own.\u201d<\/p>\n

But now, when I remember it, I feel shame. I understand that this kind of differentiation was not a compliment but a clear expression of racism.<\/p>\n

This experience was a bitter awakening. I realized that what I thought was appreciation was actually an internalized form of discrimination. I had unknowingly accepted the narrative that my community was \u201cinferior\u201d and that my success was measured by how far I distanced myself from it.<\/p>\n

This made me distance myself and try to conform to the expectations of the \u201csuperiors,\u201d unintentionally rejecting a part of my identity. This internalized discrimination was not harmless. It affected my decisions, how I saw myself, and my ambitions.<\/p>\n

Such experiences are also felt by Ashkali people living in Serb-majority areas. Among other \u201csuperiors.\u201d<\/p>\n

Living as an \u201cinferior\u201d between two antagonistic \u201csuperiorities\u201d who seek to normalize their relations \u2013 this is almost the everyday reality of Ashkali people. Or at least it was mine.<\/p>\n

But no matter how much I tried to erase my distinctiveness in the eyes of the \u201csuperiors,\u201d it was there. I felt it. Especially when it came to public, social, state matters. Regarding integration, representation, inclusion in the common good. There, I was not \u201cbetter\u201d than other members of my community. I was Selamir, the Ashkali.<\/p>\n

I experienced stigmatization and prejudice leading to (self-)exclusion already in high school. When I dreamed of enrolling in the Military Academy. It was a call I felt deeply. A desire for discipline and to serve my country. But whenever I thought about this step, I hesitated and feared. Not because of physical or intellectual challenges, but because of the prejudice on top of prejudice. That I would be seen as an Ashkali. The idea of prejudice terrified me. That one day, sooner or later, I would confront how I was really seen.<\/p>\n

I did not have the courage to apply. I convinced myself that maybe it was not the right path, that maybe I did not want this profession that much. A flight from fear.<\/p>\n

This deep internalization of prejudice made me my own biggest obstacle. When I realized it was impossible to continue, I had to find a way to break this chain and reclaim what had been denied to me \u2013 not by others, but by myself.<\/p>\n

I began working on rebuilding my self-confidence. Only much later did I realize that success is not measured by distancing oneself from one\u2019s culture, but by how much one can use what it offers to grow one\u2019s potential.<\/p>\n

That was the moment I started looking for opportunities that connected me to my passion, to what belonged to me. While trying to develop myself and challenge norms, I learned that the opportunities offered are endless for those who dare to break the barriers set by others.<\/p>\n

I chose journalism. I knew it was a bold step, but also an opportunity to express myself and challenge the perceptions I had of myself. Journalism gave me a chance to change the approach and fight for the rights of those who often have no voice.<\/p>\n

During my professional journey, I faced challenging moments, but also moments that helped me understand myself better as a journalist, but above all, as an individual.<\/p>\n

One experience I must highlight was a job interview at a media outlet. After a long conversation, the person in charge reviewed my application and said: \u201cI\u2019m glad you are part of the Ashkali community and I want you on the team.\u201d At first, his words seemed like a welcoming door. But the longer I thought about them, the more I felt an invisible weight, a shadow of doubt hanging over them.<\/p>\n

It was clear \u2013 he did not see me for what I had built with dedication, but for what I represented in his eyes. It was not my ability that gave weight to his decision, but my ethnic identity, a label that, instead of affirming me, confined me to a preconceived frame.<\/p>\n

At that moment, I felt the urgent need to set a boundary, a line that should not be crossed. Calmly but firmly, I said: \u201cIf this offer comes only because of my ethnic affiliation, then I cannot accept it. Above all else, I want to be valued for my professionalism, my skills, and my dedication \u2013 not for something unrelated to the work I know and want to do.\u201d<\/p>\n

He was silent for a moment. Then reflecting, he said: \u201cI understand and you\u2019re right.\u201d At that moment I knew \u2013 I was not refusing an opportunity, but affirming my value as a professional.<\/p>\n

This is my personal experience of the benefit of normalization of an individual from a community prone to collective stigmatization. A normalization that creates opportunities for all and should be encouraged by everyone.<\/p>\n

The more normalization, both social and neighborly, the more we can have intercommunity normalization. More development and employment. Especially for Ashkali people. Especially through the normalization between Kosovo and Serbia.<\/p>\n

(The author is a journalist at T7 television headquartered in Prishtina, Kosovo. This publication was made possible under the project \u201cDialogue, Solution, Future,\u201d supported by the Federal Ministry of Foreign Affairs of the Federal Republic of Germany, implemented by the New Social Initiative (NSI) and the Institute for Social Policies Musine Kokalari. Its content is the sole responsibility of NSI and the Institute for Social Policies Musine Kokalari. It does not necessarily reflect the views of the Federal Ministry of Foreign Affairs of the Federal Republic of Germany.)<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4,"featured_media":7621,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[46],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-7747","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-news"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/musineinstitute.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/7747","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/musineinstitute.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/musineinstitute.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/musineinstitute.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/4"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/musineinstitute.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=7747"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/musineinstitute.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/7747\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":7750,"href":"https:\/\/musineinstitute.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/7747\/revisions\/7750"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/musineinstitute.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/7621"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/musineinstitute.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=7747"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/musineinstitute.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=7747"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/musineinstitute.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=7747"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}