McKay School of Education > News > McKay Today Magazine > Academic Quests--Human Stories
Academic Quests-Human Stories
Alfredo has been his family’s interpreter since he was six. He was born in the States but did not know any English until he entered kindergarten. Maria, his mother, came to the U.S. when she was 14. But her father refused to let Maria attend school. Years later Maria and her husband have a different view. Alfredo explains, “They have taught me that education is really important, that without a good education you are going to have a hard time in life.”
Now an A student taking difficult classes, Alfredo remembers feeling “dumb.” He has been able to overcome that notion but admits it still pops up in his chemistry class occasionally when it seems like the other students catch on faster. Yet Alfredo is quick to say that students learning English should take pride that they are becoming bilingual and should not be afraid to ask questions.
Maria has continued to coach her son in his academics by helping him learn to make good decisions. Not being able to help Alfredo with English has been very hard on her.
Alfredo says students learning English should not feel dumb when they don’t understand. He suggests, “Try your hardest to understand. Participate. Ask questions.” Alfredo adds, “There are classmates who are timid. When you raise your hand, you may be asking for the answer to the question the guy next to you has.”
Pu Lay D was born in the Mae La refugee camp in Thailand. He remembers hiding from Burmese soldiers when he was only three as they fired on the camp. He also remembers not having enough money to buy necessities. Using his limited English, Pu Lay uses the word scary to describe aspects of his former life. When he was 15 the International Refugee Committee brought Pu Lay’s family to Utah. The family continues to receive assistance and support through the Asian Society as they acclimate to life in the U.S.
“I have been here for one year and 21 days,” explains Pu Lay. He loves computers and the Internet and, like all teenagers, fusses with his hair before being photographed. Asked about a career, Pu Lay says he wants to translate for Karen-speaking refugees like his family.
Pu Lay’s family has no car, though he recently passed his driver’s test. Through support from caseworkers and the school system, he has learned to use public transportation. He takes the bus across town to a Cambodian market to purchase the ingredients for his favorite Thai dishes. He often looks for Thai recipes on the Internet.
“Pu Lay is really smart,” says Miss Susana, his ESL teacher. His English is very limited, but he is passing all his high school classes. Miss Susana notes that Pu Lay’s outgoing personality may be an important source of his resiliency. But immigrant parents are older and are not as flexible. Says Miss Susana of the many immigrant parents she visits, including Pu Lay’s: “The parents miss their homelands. But they want their children to be here. They want their children to be educated, to read and to write in English—that’s power for them to go on.”
Sarah B is part of a large family from Eritrea. After the war between Eritrea and Ethiopia ended in the late 1990s, large numbers of the Kunama—the heritage of Sarah’s family—fled to avoid possible reprisals from the Eritrean government for staying in the area invaded by Ethiopia. Sarah’s family spent years in the Shimelba Refugee Camp in Ethiopia. About two years ago an international agency brought the family to Dallas, Texas. However, the American dream soon became a nightmare. Cultural and language differences contributed to the death of Sarah’s father, who was hit by a car as he crossed a freeway walking home from his job because he had missed the last bus. Destitute and isolated, the family moved to the Rocky Mountains in order to be close to extended family members.
Sarah has a glowing smile but says she does not have friends. It is obvious that she struggles with English, but she is learning. She nods hard when asked if teachers help her. “They stop and explain words,” she says. Despite being shy, Sarah says she will ask questions when she does not understand.
At home Sarah helps to take care of several younger siblings, including a one-year-old. She cleans and cooks—but only dishes from her home country. She takes the bus to an African market several miles away. Hearing this, her ESL teacher’s eyes light up. “Sarah’s cooking is delicious,” she says. “Sarah brought some to school to share.”
To read more about Sarah’s family, please visit http://www.dallasnews.com/sharedcontent/dws/dn/latestnews/stories/050408dnmeteritreans.2e72b0d.html.
Carina A is in the fourth grade. When she was two her family immigrated to the U.S. with the hope of increasing their opportunities for education. When she was three, Carina’s parents enrolled her in a preschool for English speakers. Introduced to English, Carina first stopped speaking altogether. “We thought we made a big mistake, that we should go back to Venezuela,” says her father, Paolo. He and his wife, Meiver, took Carina to be assessed by language experts at BYU. “They said it was normal and that she would get over it herself,” explains Paolo. At four years of age, Carina began speaking again. This time she spoke in both languages.
“We came to America because we wanted a better life for our children and more freedom,” explains Paolo. “In our country, if you are poor, your children will be poor. In America you have a chance to improve yourself.” He adds that they wanted their children to be able to follow their dreams. “In Venezuela there is too little chance to be what they want to be—a writer, a baseball player, or an actor.”
Carina continues to be bilingual and is also excelling in school. Both parents speak at least conversational English, and Paolo is currently enrolled in an electrical apprenticeship program. Spanish is still spoken in their home, and Paolo and Meiver say that Spanish translations are available at every turn. This was a blessing when they arrived, but as the years go on, they say that having fewer Spanish resources would spur them to speak English better. “When we first came, we thought it was a blessing. Now we think it is a handicap,” says Paolo.
The couple have two other children. They say their experiences with public school have been positive. Meiver says, “They accommodate children. In our country the schools won’t do that. In the U.S. it is education for everybody. I feel grateful for that.”
Myunghee’s A family emigrated to the U.S. from Korea in 2006 on an education visa for her parents. Myunghee is a junior in high school and already receives A’s in all her classes. Much of her motivation comes from her mother: “I tell my children, ‘You are not American—you have to try harder.’”
Myunghee took her mom’s advice literally. She is on her school’s cheer squad and excels in her two AP classes. She loves math and says she wants to be an accountant.
Fellow students helped her at first when the language difference was most noticeable, explains Myunghee. Teachers were also helpful, but she has had two who stand out in her mind. “My freshman year, my biology teacher knew I had English problems, and we had to read a lot of books with hard vocabulary words,” recalls Myunghee. “She let me use the book for some assignments.“
Her ESL teacher was especially instrumental in helping Myunghee adapt culturally. “When I tried out for cheer, I asked about the program requirements,” Myunghee says. “My ESL teacher found out the details and information and then explained the process to me. She would do that for every question I had about school life.”
Rebecca Richardson D recently talked to her students about how to go to college. She advised them to apply for scholarships and also said that they would need to earn A grades to receive funding for college. “This is the time that you need to think about college,” Richardson told the students.
While her situation may seem like a typical high school classroom, it is not. Richardson was teaching one of the four Level-II ESL language arts classes assigned to her. Her students range from ninth through 12th grade and include Bolis from Sudan, Hussein from Kenya, Augustin from Mexico, and Mohamad from Somalia. There are also students from the Dominican Republic, Thailand, Liberia, and various South American and African nations.
Each day hundreds of classes like this one convene in America’s junior and senior high schools where students from several grade levels and all nationalities learn together to become fluent in reading and writing English. These students come to the United States needing to finish their education so they can compete in an international job market.
Richardson is animated and optimistic when she speaks. She uses gestures, switches languages, and praises the students with skill and grace. Expecting compliance, she says, “All eyes up here,” and then adds, “That was perfect.”
The day’s objectives are on the board. There is a class discussion on the word, "community." Positive traits of a community are listed: people who help each other, people who work together to solve issues, people who are friendly to each other, people who are not racist. After writing this last response, Richardson acknowledges that some communities struggle to be respectful and kind. She now asks her students, “How do we build good communities?”
A student named Mario answers with wisdom that would benefit the whole world. He says, “First you need to look at yourself.”

