I really don’t want to eat a plateful of salty, greasy fried eggs with my hands at 10:00 in the morning, not that long after I had a bowl of healthy cereal and a large cup of really strong coffee (black). But I do. I dig in, tearing off bits of thin wheat flatbread and segments of American cheese (known in our house as plastic cheese, because of both its wrapping and flavour). I sip at sweet black tea, a tiny glass brimming with hot tea with about 4 teaspoons of sugar stirred in. It is so over-the-top that I start an instant sugar headache.
I’m not losing any weight these days.
What I am doing is working with an organization that assists newly arrived Iraqi refugees. Who knew there were so many of them in the Portland area? Within about 3 miles of my house, there are over 30 families in various stages of culture shock, possession of the English language, and basic, overall adjustment. And I need to respect them, and their culture. I am helping them and they are returning the favor as best they can, by feeding me. I am their guest, so they must feed me. I know the rules, unspoken but binding, and so I eat eggs and cheese even though I’m not in the least bit hungry.
I am sitting in a spotless but mostly empty apartment. This family has only beds, one couch, a table and some mismatched chairs to their names, yet every day that carpet is vacuumed when I arrive. The 13 year old son goes out in a t-shirt, and his father tells me he’s always hot—the truth is he doesn’t have a coat yet. The 12 year old daughter wears sandals through the sodden puddles of a bitter November day.
I have been helping them get their kids registered in school, a process made more complicated by the fact that they don’t speak English or French, and my Arabic is minimal and from a completely different part of the world. The first day, we registered the 15 year old and the 13 year old at a middle school, but the next day the school phones me and asks to set up an appointment with an interpreter; they are going to put the 15 year old in high school, and move the 12 year old up to middle school. When I tell the children this, they get incredulous grins. “Me…high school?” says the boy. When I say yes, he gives me a huge smile then asks again, just to make sure he got it right.
So on Wednesday, we all set off—6 kids, 2 parents, and me—and arrived only 20 minutes late for our appointment, which I considered a job well done.
Now I’m going to back up a minute. You might remember how, here and here, and kind of here, I was sort of griping about the American schools. I haven’t become their biggest fan, but I’m definitely doing better. I was impressed, at parent-teacher conferences several weeks ago, how well the teachers actually knew my kids, and how much they are doing to push them in the right direction. (Sorry, my diction is off. I meant “how much they are encouraging them to reach their full potential.” Now wouldn’t that sound better on a website?)
But this meeting. There’s the refugee family and the interpreter and me and the counselor and ESL coordinator, all in a windowless room with brightly-coloured posters and industrial table and chairs. The counselor starts off. He gestures widely. “Please tell them,” he says to the interpreter, “how very happy we are that they are here. We hope they will feel welcome. They are safe here. We want to help each of them succeed at learning and becoming who they want to be.”
The whole meeting has this tone. It comes out that the children haven’t really ever gone to school, except the 15 year old who only went to grades 1 and 2. With the war, it just wasn’t safe. The parents were worried about roadside bombs, shootings, kidnappings, and kept their kids home. Every night their sleep was disturbed. Every day the father was threatened because he worked security for an American company.
The interpreter is an Arabic woman who lived in France for several years, and you can tell from her outlook. “So they know nothing,” she tells the counselor, somewhat dismissively. “They can’t even read and write in Arabic. They will have to start at the beginning.” I suppress a tiny grin at this. I know my cultures a bit, and this way of expressing things reflects her background perfectly. I suppress another grin as the school counselor tells the kids, “It will be overwhelming at first but don’t worry—soon you’ll get it and we will make it as fun as possible.” I doubt that “having fun at school” is a concept they’ve been introduced to before.
Throughout the whole (long) meeting, the school expresses hope, that learning can happen and that it can be fun. The kids are all given new backpacks stuffed with school supplies, and the 6 year old just freezes onto her backpack, too overwhelmed to even smile. “Does she like it?” asks the school secretary, and I assure her. I doubt this child has ever had anything like this pink Disney princess backpack to call her own before, much less the brand-new packs of crayons and pencils inside it.
Everyone is welcoming and reassuring. It can’t be easy, taking in older children who don’t read or write English and don’t know math or science or history and hoping to get them through high school in a semi-timely manner, but you wouldn’t know it from how they smile, how they effuse, how they make comments like “You can just tell they are bright kids.” They have researched their files to find other students who speak Arabic, who can help the kids adjust. They are pulling in all the resources they can to help with ESL and math tutoring and everything that will be needed.
And in my cantankerous grumpy old heart, I’m glad. Oh sure, one can complain at the excess of self-esteem classes, and I do and will continue to do so. But the belief that each child can succeed is going to go a long way with this family.
22 comments
November 19, 2010 at 12:35 am
Laural Out Loud
What a wonderful thing to be a part of. Thank you so much for helping these families. I’ve been a bit frustrated with the school system in California, and hearing what your school is doing makes me feel so much more thankful for the education my daughter is receiving. The people here DO care.
November 19, 2010 at 12:41 am
Leslie Gould
Well, this one made me cry. Blessing on your work. My prayers are with you, those kids, and their parents.
November 19, 2010 at 8:07 am
meredith
I wonder about families like these: Are they better off in America where no one speaks Arab but the school system is full of hope for their futures? Or what would happen if they ended up in France where lots of people speak Arab but the kids would probably quickly get lost/dropped out of the school system designed for quick successes only?
November 19, 2010 at 10:13 am
Susan
I love this post. A close friend of mine in Illinois works with refugees from Iraq and other countries; another close friend hosted a family for their first month in the ‘burbs. Fortunately they had a fair knowledge of English before arriving in the U.S., and 3 years later have settled in very well.
Bless you for your efforts, and God bless this family, too.
November 19, 2010 at 10:17 am
World Spinner
in which i make my peace with the american school system « Planet ……
Here at World Spinner we are debating the same thing……
November 19, 2010 at 11:36 am
Antique Mommy
Sweet story. God bless your efforts. I hope they do well.
The “school must be fun” concept is getting old with me. This week at our school they had party after party and today a bounce house. At school. But no math or spelling this week. At some point I will have to explain to 7YO that when he grows up and goes off to work, there will be no bounce house.
November 19, 2010 at 3:11 pm
Rae
I love it. I love this post, I love that you are doing this. (At first I thought the post was going to be about how being back in America drives you to eat compulsively, and I was relieved to find out it was not the case. Not that that’s ever happened to anyone I know or anything.)
November 19, 2010 at 3:45 pm
LIB
What great work you’re doing! I’m so glad to hear that the school staff was welcoming. I’m hoping those kids DO learn and DO have fun.
November 19, 2010 at 4:12 pm
Nan
That is really good to know. I hope the kids manage to catch up! Chas was a ‘buddy’ to a new kid here who spoke no English, at his old school… of course Chas spoke no Arabic either (or barely any), but it didn’t seem to matter, just some cultural understanding was helpful. The buddy system is good.
November 19, 2010 at 7:42 pm
planetnomad
Meredith, I’m sure there are plusses and minuses to each. The community here is large enough that they will know other Arabic speakers, and yet small enough that they stand a better chance at actually integrating into American society.
Nan, I think the buddy system is great too! I took the oldest kid to the high school and they’d managed to find another Iraqi boy for him to talk to. I’m sure that help will be invaluable.
And AM, I agree–the “school must be fun” concept isn’t a big hit with me either. Ideally, schools would be able to encourage each child to succeed without it denigrating into bouncy houses and watching movies instead of learning the basics. But in this one case, I could really see the positive side of the emphasis, instead of my normal more negative view.
November 19, 2010 at 8:04 pm
LG
Blessings on you, Mrs. P. Nomad! May all those eggs and glasses of tea bring you showers of blessings!
November 20, 2010 at 4:10 am
Kimberlie
I get a bit grumpy with the school system too. It’s good for me to hear these stories on the one hand. It does seem like they do a very good job in America of teaching the “exceptions.” I think it really is something we do well. There are not many countries that have education systems that would go to such lengths to help children integrate into the culture and to help them strive for reaching their full potential. I hope this family does feel welcome in America. Sometimes I get super grumpy about the acceptance of mediocrity and then I hear a story like this that reminds me that this is still a country where people can make their own future, can pursue their dreams with nothing more than the determination. It is still the land of opportunity and I am glad to hear it is so.
November 20, 2010 at 4:47 pm
Tonggu Momma
This brings tears to my eyes, in a good way. I am so glad they are working hard to make this transition as easy as possible. And I am glad the family has you as part of their support network.
November 20, 2010 at 4:56 pm
sarah
A very interesting and informative post. It is wonderful that you can be part of a project like this. How different it was for the immigrants that arrived many years ago without the help of someone like you.
November 21, 2010 at 2:32 am
Kelly @ Love Well
I love all the cultural snapshots in this post, E. For all our faults, I do believe Americans have a sense of optimism and positivity that is unmatched. I like that about us.
I pray the family you are coming alongside feel welcomed here.
November 21, 2010 at 9:02 am
jeanne A
In 2005, I adopted an 8 year old from Ethiopia. At that time, she spoke no English. I should have written it down at the time…..there were 3 things she liked about school. One was the playground, one was that she didn’t get “beaten” at school and the third escapes me. She had a buddy, who remains her best friend these many years later. And this year she was inducted into the Jr. National Honor Society! Proud momma moment!
Immigrant families and “immigrant-adopted kids” are very different from each other—despite the similarities. I’d love your job. And I love that it uses your past skills-the nomadic part. God has a plan!
November 21, 2010 at 11:15 am
in which i make my peace with the american school system | ExpatNode.com
[…] https://planetnomad.wordpress.com/ […]
November 21, 2010 at 3:11 pm
Debbie
Great post! Glad to see how things are going and get a glimpse of what you do with these foilks.
November 21, 2010 at 8:45 pm
Jennifer, Snapshot
How wonderful. It’s great that you’ve taken your experiences and are helping others (I know that’s not why you wrote this post, but I will still say it).
I met with my kids’ schools when I visited Houston last week. Even though New England has a great reputation for education, I think that they will be behind when we move. I was very impressed, but a little concerned too — why the big push??? You wouldn’t believe (or maybe you would) the amount of high school credits that they are getting in middle school. . . .
November 22, 2010 at 12:40 pm
Susan
Thanks for the post – hope you don’t mind a linked on my page. We’re moving back to the States next summer so of course, part of the journey is to see what will happen with schools. I read this post and decided not to worry so much – my kids have had every advantage in their short lifetime and there are many who haven’t. Put’s it in perspective a bit.
December 23, 2010 at 3:03 am
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