My dream is to study at the university. But when you go to [the caseworkers], they do not listen to your ambitions and dreams. They make you believe that you can tell them what you want. In the end they will write in their plans what they want. You want to study? Okay, you are going to study. They write 'Amir wants to continue his education. Amir wants to study Swedish. Amir is going to take the social integration course. And this basically means that according to this [action] plan, you should show us that you have attended [language] school.' (Amir) This chapter discusses the experiences of young Palestinian men in an introductory programme for refugees in Sweden. The programme was designed to support people who had been accepted for asylum in learning Swedish and introducing them to the labour market (Larsson, 2015; Ennerberg, 2017). Despite the good intentions of policy-makers, my interlocutors, like Amir who is quoted above, often feel that it is a waste of time to follow the programme. The programme is not adjusted to their individual aspirations, and they have few possibilities of deciding what to do with their own lives while being enrolled in it. In this chapter, I argue that their frustrations can be understood primarily as reactions to a bureaucratisation of daily life and to the institutional requirements that limit their sense of agency. Bureaucratisation in this case leads to resistance but also to hopelessness and readjustments of personal ambitions. Many migrants from war-torn and poor countries are well prepared for multiple losses in life and for enduring hardships (Jackson, 2008). Among Palestinians, there is even a frequently used term, sumud, for patience or endurance, which means to keep going despite all (Peteet, 2005, pp. 148ff.). However, migrants are seldom prepared for the bureaucratisation of everyday life that is set in motion in Northern European welfare states when dealing with different institutions and authorities as asylum-seekers or refugees (see also chapter 10). 1 The Swedish street-level bureaucrats are, in general, described as friendly and caring by my interlocutors; still, their practices are, as we will learn, experienced as constraining and excluding.