Customer Service

(Here is what I wish I had overheard and seen in the main office this morning, when a young mother came to pick up her child from school.)

Good Morning! How can I help you? (Smile...)

You're here to sign your child out? May I ask the reason? (Nod politely...)

Alright then. May I ask your child's name?

And what room is your child in? Teacher's name? (Prod patiently...)

You're not sure? Well, if you tell me what grade your child is in, I can help you with that.

Please sign here while I call for your child. (Point, provide a pen...)

You're not sure where to sign? Here, please sign here. (Smile...)

Now, please have a seat while you wait for your child to come down. Can I help you with anything else? (Smile...)

Here is your child! Do you have everything? It was nice to meet you - have a lovely day! (Smile and wave...)

Dear mother-in-the-office,
I am sorry your experience in our school was so uncomfortable this morning. I wish I had stepped in to take over. Unfortunately there are certain "territories" that must not be invaded and I've been told not to get involved when I see this happening.

You were spoken to disrespectfully. The person whose job it was to assist you was rude and impatient. I would not be surprised if you avoid coming to our school in the future and if you speak poorly about our staff.

Bilingual Book Review - Super Cilantro Girl

Stop on over to Latin Baby Book Club for my review of Super Cilantro Girl – La Superniña del cilantro. It's a story about the fears of 1st generation children and overcoming obstacles.

I use this book in my 4th grade bilingual classroom as a springboard for lessons about immigration, discussions about being separated from loved ones, and to inspire creative writing.

Diversity Book Review: China Boy

I’ve finished reading China Boy, which I selected for the Diversity Rocks Reading Challenge. This autobiographical novel by Chinese-American Gus Lee caused me to tear up a couple of times. I recognized the experiences of immigrant children in Lee’s story, and made a more real connection now, as one of my students is growing up without a mother’s love.

In this novel, Kai-Ting is the prized and only son in a Chinese family, who has arrived to 1950s San Francisco, after an escape from civil war in China. Small and treasured, Kai-Ting enjoys the indulgent love of his doting mother, who succumbs to cancer when the boy is still small. Left with his inattentive father and three older sisters, Kai-Ting is unaware that his mother has died, as it is custom for this news to be kept from small children.

Soon after this loss, Kai-Ting's father takes a new wife. She is cruel and hostile, and she is American. Edna does everything possible to erase all memory of Kai-Ting’s real mother, and physically disposes of all things Chinese that remain in the home. She forbids the children to speak their native language. To make matters worse, she locks Kai-Ting out of his house daily. He is to remain outside until she calls for him. This places him in harm’s way, as the boy gangs in the neighborhood see him as an easy target and beat him daily. Bloodied and vulnerable, Kai-Ting gets no sympathy from Edna, who steadfastly refuses him safe harbor.

Kai-Ting seeks his mother in the faces of several characters in the story, who in their own ways supply what is missing in the boy’s life. Kai-Ting also goes to the YMCA for boxing lessons, with the hope of learning how to defend his puny frame against the bullies in the street.

You can't help but wonder why Kai-Ting's father appears to be so inattentive, unwilling to protect and nurture his only son. The reader feels like reaching in and rescuing poor, pathetic Kai-Ting. In the story, many characters outside the family are concerned for Kai-Ting, but none of them intervene. I suppose it was the way things were back then. I also noticed that Kai-Ting had an incredible time learning English, while at the same time losing his native Songhai, language of Shanghai. His garbled, mixed-up attempts to communicate were often humorous. As a bilingual teacher, I'm pretty sure Kai-Ting did not have access to ESL services.

I enjoyed this book very much, and highly recommend it.

Diversity Rocks! Reading Challenge

I love going in to the New Year with a plan. So I've signed up for the 2009 Diversity Rocks! Challenge.

I'm committing to reading 12 books by authors of color; at least six of these will be children's and young adult books, and the others will be adult selections. While I already read diverse authors (check out my bookshelf at the bottom of my blog) I welcome the challenge to read even more. I'm looking forward to seeking out diverse children's and YA authors in particular, as it will also benefit my students.

Thanks Ali, at Worducopia, for an exciting project for the New Year! Read On!

Educating Ourselves About ELLs

This past Thursday, I met with an awesome group of proactive and professional people who work as advocates for English Language Learners. This group, the ELL Educator Cadre, is comprised of 16 educators from across the United States. We meet in Washington DC at the AFT (American Federation of Teachers) headquarters twice a year. Our team discusses issues in the field of English language acquisition, such as testing, equitable access to programs and materials, professional training, research, and best practices. This effort, coordinated by the AFT, is an opportunity for real practitioners to contribute expertise and knowledge to policy-makers, public relations specialists, and elected representatives at the state and national level.

Today, one in five students in this country is Hispanic. This fact is an obvious indicator of the changes our country is experiencing. Whether we look at this fact as an “issue” or an opportunity says a lot about how we approach the education of our children. We certainly have to make many adjustments as we plan for and deliver instruction.

While talking with my colleagues in Washington, it became apparent that great strides are being made in the areas of English language learning, bilingual education, and ESL instruction. However, I also see how a lot of this progress is overshadowed by the impossible demands of NCLB, accompanied by a lingering resentment toward immigrants and a clear resistance to becoming more appreciative of that which is “different”.

I wonder, are all of my brothers and sisters in teaching ready to look at things differently? Are you ready to experience a paradigm shift? As the numbers of English Language Learners grow in your schools, will you stand up for the rights of all children to receive the very BEST that you have to offer?

A funny topping to write about

My fourth graders, who are English Language Learners (ELLs), are accustomed to writing daily in every subject. On most mornings, I post a few journal prompts at the board, from which they may select one to get them started. Every now and then though, between the morning routines and the hundred things that happen simultaneously before first period, I neglect to write a topic at the board.

This morning, one of the boys raised his hand and asked, “Mrs. L? What are the toppings?”

“The toppings?”

“The toppings Miss. What are we supposed to write about today?”

“OH! The toppings! Well let me write them for you right this minute! I’m sorry about that!” I replied, trying to hide my amusement. I approached the board, and wrote the following:

pepperoni
mushrooms
extra cheese
sausage
anchovies

(I couldn’t help myself.)

“That’s for a pizza!” he giggled, as his classmates caught on and laughed.

I then took advantage of that teachable moment to display two words I hadn’t realized might cause some confusion. Toppings and topics sound different to you and me, being native speakers of English. However, for those who are learning this language, these words may be difficult to differentiate.

Once we all got over a case of the giggles, we discussed the different spellings and meanings of these words. For homework, they will write a couple of sentences using each of the words, showing they know the difference between the two.

After 18 years in the classroom, I’m still learning not to take anything for granted, and I’m reminded about how much fun I’m still having

School shoes shined up and ready to go!

Tomorrow will be the start of a full week of school. It will be grueling and intense. The body and mind are still in summer mode; my feet fight the confines of real shoes, begging for flip-flops, and my mind just wants to sit back with an iced coffee and a book.

I did say though, how excited I was to start school again. And I am. I've got a class of 18 beautiful, eager kids from Argentina, Cuba, Dominican Republic, Peru, and Puerto Rico.

They've all been in this country a little over a year, so they have plenty of what we refer to in my field as BICS or Basic Interpersonal Communication Skills. In other words, they have the kind of social and survival English that develops in a couple of years. It will be my job this school year to help them develop their CALP or Cognitive Academic Language Proficiency, which we understand can take from five to seven years.

BICS and CALP are a large part of what bilingual and ESL teachers take into account while developing lessons. To the untrained ear, any of my students may appear to have already acquired enough English to function in a general program class. These students, however, are still developing necessary academic language, the language of the content areas.

It's one thing to be able to say, for example "I went to my friend's house this weekend" and another to have the language to express "Precipitation is the term for the falling, condensed water molecules, which come down as rain, snow, sleet, or hail--depending on conditions in the atmosphere." I know that when I see my students tomorrow morning, they'll be able to tell me in English what they did this past weekend. I also know they don't quite have the English vocabulary to discuss Scientific Method and safety, which I must teach this week.

Luckily, I'm prepared to make it happen. Eighteen years as a bilingual teacher has made me examine constantly what I believe about culture, language, learning, good teaching, and expectations.

I'm still learning. I'm still excited. I'm ready to put my school shoes on.

Book Review: Digging to America

Digging to America, by Anne Tyler, explores family, adoption, culture, and what it means to be “American”. Two very different families, one American and the other Iranian, gather at an airport to welcome their adopted babies from Korea. The arrival of the infants is the beginning of a life-long relationship for these two families, one that takes them through politeness, curiosity, comfort, bonding, and explorations of differentness and belonging.

Very often, Americans and newcomers attempt to interact at social gatherings, sharing information about each other via food tasting, invitations to partake in customs, and general exchanges of cultural details. However well-intentioned these efforts may be, both groups sometimes assume that the work of getting to know one another ends there.

Tyler, I think, intends for the reader to see that there is much more below the surface; it is too easy to get caught up in the way people look, the way they speak, the way they behave. Some characters in Tyler’s book fall into the trap of ethnocentrism, while others are politically correct to the point of being offensive. This book examines the opportunities that are lost when we make assumptions and when we believe that our way is the only way.

I enjoyed this book. It reminded me of times as a child, when I watched my mother fuss over perfect party preparations. She was eager to please and impress, as the guest list was a "mixed" crowd, including my father's American colleagues, and our Bolivian family and friends. Quite naturally, both groups gravitated to separate areas of the room. Fortunately, food, drinks, and music eventually got everyone to mingle.

Are you interested in this book? I'd be glad to send it to you. Comment on this post by Wednesday, August 20, and mention that you're interested in the book. I will select a winner and mail it to you.

Latina Book Review: Border-Line Personalities

Border-line Personalities proved to be a great read. Topics such as mother-daughter relationships, family secrets, being bilingual, ethnic pride and denial, raising kids, sexuality, love, and careers are all discussed by 20 different Latina writers. Although the viewpoints presented in this collection of essays are varied, there is a clear sense of some commonality among Latinos.

Several points hit home for me in this book. One of them, el qué dirán (the "what will they think/say") is so prevalent in the lives of Latinas; many of us are raised by a mami who warns us not to embarrass her, the family, and ourselves by "non-traditional" or "unacceptable" behaviors and decisions. This proves to be a source of internal conflict for Latinas who struggle to be true to their more modern and independent, American selves.

Another topic that emerged in these selections was that of labeling and stereotypes. Often, we are incorrectly called Spanish, when in fact some of us are immigrants from or descendants of Mexico, Cuba, Puerto Rico, Chile, Argentina, and all of the other Spanish-speaking countries that form Central and South America. Many of us are born in the United States. When I'm asked "what are you?" (yes, people do ask) I reply that I am American-born, and that my parents are Bolivian. I identify with both cultures. I speak Spanish, but I am not Spanish.

One of the essays reminded me of a disappointing conversation I suffered with my college roommate many years ago. She seemed to think I was a "good" Hispanic because I did not "act like one". I remember her saying something about "those people", and how I didn't look like them, or "talk fast" like them.

So what is this term Latina all about? For me, and the writers in Border-Line Personalities, it's a feeling, an outlook, an attitude, a way of life, a source of pride. Latinas relate to each other on another level because of the way we've been raised, the similarities in our different cultures, because of what is expected of us, and because of the way we're perceived in the greater picture of American life. Latinas continue to redefine themselves while also contributing positively to the forward movement of their families and their communities.

Want to read this book? I'll be glad to send it to you. Comment on this post by Monday, August 4, and mention if you are interested in receiving my well-kept copy. I will select a winner and mail the book to you.

Servidores

The servers whisper to each other
as they scurry to every table
and squint worried eyes while
scrutinizing each and every ice-tea glass,
raising them to eye-level,
or kneeling to better see,
searching for something.
“Has someone lost a tooth?”
I joke, offending a woman who happens to hear.
“Or a contact lens?”
I add, to get a rise out of her.
She is not amused.
The concerned crew just smiles and
continues their search.
As they chat and call out to each other
I envy their camaraderie
and wanting to join them
comment in the language that will let me in –
“No se preocupen – no pasa nada”
annoying the lady with the napkin
properly spread across her lap.
She winces
and calls out exaggeratedly
“You should be speaking English to them!”

Barely distracted by the remark,
Martina raises up the sought after glass,
Gonzalo rushes to examine
the slightest hairline crack along the edge,
and Javier takes it to the kitchen,
tossing it in the trash.

Identity Theft

I once overheard a couple of teachers talking about a little girl. Her name, I knew, was Luz (pronounced “loose”) and means “light” – it’s quite a pretty name. However, they were referring to her as Luz (pronounced “was”) and I thought the little girl could not be happy with her name being pronounced that way. And then there was a teacher who complained a boy was not paying attention, even when she called to him. I wanted to say to her, “But you’re not calling him by his name!” I kept quiet, though, because people often don’t want to admit that they are not as culturally sensitive as they should be.

Let’s look at this name thing like this. When I was born, my father kissed my little forehead and named me. He and my mother completed and signed an official form, as new parents do, declaring my complete name – first, middle, and last. A few months later, a priest confirmed this name to relatives, friends, and the community – in a church, with oil and water, and a prayer.

There are official and ceremonial events by which we are named. Most cultures celebrate, in some manner, the naming of a child. Many Americans spend a great deal of time choosing just the right name for their children – it has to sound right, it has to “go with” the last name, it has to be special, or different. We name our children after loved ones, leaders, people we admire.

And once we are named, we are that name. I once read somewhere that one’s name is the sweetest sound to them. Want to make sure someone is paying attention to you? Start by saying their name. Indeed, the first thing we do at a social gathering is tell people our name, and find out theirs. When we bump into someone we haven’t seen in a while, we struggle a bit to remember his or her name, don’t we? We don’t want to embarrass ourselves by saying the wrong name, and certainly don’t want the person to think we have forgotten who they are!

I have never given anyone permission to change my name. And I know for a fact that most people around me feel the same. It’s evident when we correct those who mispronounce our name, or spell it incorrectly. Or when we cringe as someone totally butchers our name.

Out of respect for you, I make a conscious effort to say your name correctly. And only when you and I become more familiar, do I use your nickname. But I don’t change your name because it’s hard to say, I can’t pronounce it, or it’s different. It is good manners, proper social behavior, and just plain right to say your name, your real name, your true name, the name that you want to be known by.

I don’t understand why teachers (or other school staff) change students’ names. Who are we to do that? Who has given the school the right to alter a child’s identity? The community I teach in is made up of predominantly Hispanics, or Latinos, who for the most part, have Spanish names. Sure, for some, these names may pose a level of linguistic difficulty or discomfort. Many professionals resort to altering, adjusting, shortening, or just plain changing children’s names. What’s wrong with Juan and Miguel? And how did Marisol Jimenez become Mary Jim-in-ess?

Although trivial to some, this name thing worries me. I urge everyone to make the effort to know their students and use their real names. Remember that your name is part of your identity. As educators, we should be supporting a student’s identity, rather than taking parts of it away. We may find that, as we pay respect to a child or an adult by saying their name correctly as it was intended to be said, we will have won for ourselves that person’s respect, admiration, and heart. And they will most certainly pay attention.