She couldn’t speak English. For the last three of her twelve years she had lived with her abuela in a rural part of their tropical country. Elata’s single mother had married an American soldier stationed in their country. When he left to return to the USA, Elata’s mother went with him. They promised to send for Elata once they were settled. Finally, the invitation had arrived. Abuela shed tears but made no sound as they walked into the sprawling transcontinental airport. Neither of them could guess if they would see one another again.

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            On a Friday late in September, when Elata arrived at Newark International Airport, her mom and stepdad met her. They both spoke easily to her in Spanish and assured her she would enjoy her life in the United States. They had registered her for school, and she could start on Monday. For this weekend, they would just have her enjoy time with them and learn about their town, neighborhood, and meet some neighbors. They gave Elata lots of attention and introduced her to people, translating for her and the neighbors.

            On Monday, Elata came to Elementary 2, a public elementary school for grades 3-5. Elata’s Mom was allowed to walk her to the classroom that would be the homeroom class. Her homeroom teacher knew a little Spanish. Only a few other teachers in the school had some basic Spanish. No other child in the school spoke Spanish. This school served a peninsula county in south Jersey that in the early 1990s had few residents who had moved any distance. Only from Memorial Day to Labor Day did thousands of workers and tourists flood into the towns of the county.

           In the elementary school, students did not change rooms for every class. Students in grades 3-5 stayed with their homeroom teacher at least for social studies, science. For other subjects, they changed to other classrooms. The administrator had tried to schedule Elata’s classes with the few teachers who knew some Spanish, but the language, rarely used by those teachers had a rusty ragged sound to it.

          Elata knew only a half dozen words in English when she heard them or read them. No. Yes. Hello. Exit. Entrance. Women. Men. Her homeroom teacher introduced Elata to a partner who would walk her to the other classrooms until Elata felt comfortable going on their own. This partner, a kind and bright student, would also be in those classes with Elata, but the girl didn’t know any Spanish. They walked together like a pair of owlets. Elata was two years older than her girl guide but so petite that anyone would guess Elata was the younger of the two girls.

          Elata’s schedule had her spending almost three hours a day in my classroom with fifth graders for reading, writing, and math. Placement tests showed that she could easily do computation, but our texts were filled with word problems. She could not decipher what they asked students to do.

Years earlier, I had purchased Hooked on Phonics for a friend who had a child with a reluctance to reading with someone. The child insisted he would read alone.  With Hooked on Phonics he learned quickly to read on his own, and his family modeled a love of reading. He read like a champion now, so I asked to borrow the Hooked on Phonics for the school year.

           Students mature enough to understand how far she had traveled were fascinated by her, a person their age from another country, someone who didn’t speak any English sentences. How would she learn?

           I explained the basics of Hooked on Phonics to the class and told them I need some volunteers to partner with Elata. They would need to do the reading activities alongside her until she understood how to use the Hooked-on-Phonics reading material on her own. Seven hands went up immediately, and they all took the helper responsibility seriously. Partners for Elata changed each day. Their personalities were as unique as diamonds, but they all sparkled with warmth in their personalities that encouraged Elata.

           Each day during her time in our classes, Elata watched and listened with the classmate who sat near her pointing at words, turning pages when the signal was given and helping with alphabet, vocabulary, and reading comprehension activities. Even the class members, all 10 and 11 years old, who had not volunteered to help Elata as a partner encouraged her.

“You read a lot of pages today!”

“That was a good story you read today.”

“You have better cursive writing than me.”

“You’re learning lots of words.”

"Good job!"

“How do you say that in Spanish?”

“English spelling is hard. It doesn’t follow all the rules.”
 

These young students on their own came up with compliments, and Elata bloomed. Before Thanksgiving, Elata could read on a first-grade level. When the other students did math with word problems, Elata used a first-grade math book and did those word problems. I gave her an A or B as she got most of those problems correct.

          “Why does Elata get an A when she can’t do our fifth-grade work?” one of the competitive class members asked as I returned graded quizzes to the class.

          “That’s a good question. Let’s talk about that. Everyone sit back comfortably on your chair.” They did. From their attention, I realized they had watched carefully every interaction I had with Elata. Many students had wondered about the grading though only this one young man had asked.

           I looked into the reading corner where Elata now worked diligently on her own. She no longer needed a partner to complete every activity, and since she wore headphones listening to a story, I took some time to talk to the rest of the class.

          “What if I gave you all word problems for fifth-graders in Spanish today?”

A few students' eyebrows disappeared up under their bangs. Others looking at me laughed out loud.“How well do you think you would do?”

“Bad.”

“Not very.”

“I’d flunk.”

“Awful.”

“Well, let’s change that, I could make it easier. What if I gave you word problems in Spanish for first graders?”

“Still bad.”

“Terrible.”

“Still flunking.”

“I’d stink.”

“I wouldn’t even try.”

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“So why do you think I give Elata an A or B on her word problem work?

“She’s really trying to do the work.”

“Cause she’s just learning English?”

“It is hard to learn another language.”

“She’s good at math but the words mess her up.”

“It’s like you’re giving her extra credit because she has to work in

a new language.”

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         “You are understanding pretty well. Now I want you to close your eyes and think about something I will tell you, like a story.” They were such a good group. They all closed their eyes. Only a few opened one eye just to check and see if others had closed their eyes.

        “To keep a good job, your parents have to move to another country where the language is not English. When they are settled, they bring you to that country and show you around the new house. Everything in the house and neighborhood is totally different from where you lived with your grandmother when you were waiting to join your mom and dad. Then, just two days after you get there, you have to go to school.

         “None of the kids in the school speak English. They look at you. Some of them are helpful. Some seem kind, but you think they feel sorry for you. Some laugh at you, point at you, or you just know they are talking about you, but you do not know what they are saying. Everything is different in this school than back in your school. And everyone, the teachers, the people in the office, and the students speak English so fast you hardly can hear words you do know.

          “You follow the helpful people as much as you can because every day there is so much to learn. You miss your old friends and wonder if they miss you. You miss your family back in your home country. Every day, you wonder if you can ever learn everything you need to learn. You wonder when you will know enough of the new language to feel comfortable in this different place. You try hard, but because you don’t know the language you mainly get Ds and Fs when teachers give you a grade. Open your eyes and tell me how you feel.”

“Lonely.”

“Mad.”

“Sad.”

“Worried.”

“Angry.”

“Frustrated.”

“Miserable.”

The answers stopped.  Then the boy who had asked the question said, “So that’s why Elata gets As and Bs for her work?”

         “Yes. If a person who works very hard every day, and feels alone, doesn’t get encouragement, they might give up. Elata has to learn a lot as fast as possible. You have had years to learn all of the subjects you study and you know this is your home. You have many friends.”

         The group in front of me had good minds and hearts. There were nods, and then we all went back to work.

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In the new year, January to June, the school offered enrichment classes after school. We did not have much diversity in demographics, but we did have many latch key kids. The enrichment programs filled up quickly, and one of the classes was for learning Spanish. I was not surprised to see quite a few of my students in that class. They also started to try to speak some Spanish to Elata in our class. She responded with smiles and answers and used more English. We all could see that she wanted to fit in, to be friendly.

          In our reading corner, I added bilingual versions of classics from fairy tales to Dr. Seuss to the reading corner in our classroom. We also added books about her country and central America. Sometimes I would hear Elata reading one of the well-known children’s stories in Spanish to her partner for the day.

By June, Elata could read at a third-grade level and she seemed to have made some friends. I thought it was amazing she had gone so far but was sad that she would now go on to the middle school. She had passed all her classes, most with Cs and Ds.

          Now she would go on to another new school experience. In our school, she did get an A in physical education, art, and music, and maybe she could do that in the middle school too if teachers did not talk fast, if they took time to clarify procedures taken for granted each day, if they didn't assume basic knowledge, if they taught for the students and not for test scores. How likely were any of these concerns? 

         The middle school presented the most rugged transition, not surprising when students are caught in the stage between being children and young adults. Students changed for every class, were assigned to levels and classes based on state test scores. Elata had scored very low on the state test so she would be in classes with students who struggled as much or more than she did, and they were native speakers of English. Many had a disaffection for school, used up time in any class with inappropriate behavior, and had a sad and sour aura because they felt like they were losers. If Elata was assigned to a resource room, it would not focus on transitions from Spanish to English. Our school system had not identified enough students who needed English language classes to have a full program for them.  Elata would go forward with total immersion like it or not. The state had a set number requirement for when public schools needed to have a class for English Language Learners.

            Hormones, insecurities, and cliques grew like weeds in middle school. I knew about the bullying, discipline problems, and far less personal attention for students unless they or their parents spoke up for the help. Every school has teachers who care and do extra for students, but they also have teachers who go through the motions avoiding any extra responsibility, and teachers overwhelmed by too many responsibilities, health problems, frustrations and disappointments.   How would Elata do in the middle school environment? She was so shy. I could not imagine her asking for extra help from a teacher. I couldn't imagine her parents demanding it. In the elementary school, extra help had been offered to her; she’d never had to ask.

          Would students who had been friendly to her in Elementary 2, still be friendly to her in the middle school? Would they even get to see her? The days were scheduled based on keeping students together with others of like abilities, and just because they had multiple seatings in the cafeteria didn’t mean Elata would see anyone she knew even during her lunchtime.

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            The next time I had a chance to see Elata was at her quinceaños party, a celebration for girls from her country who turn 15. Her parents had planned this special day for her and spent a lot of time and money to make it wonderful. Like a Bat Mitzvah, a quinceanera marked a move from childhood to womanhood. She had invited me and a few other teachers from her time in our elementary school.

          What a delight to see Elata with so many people happy for her. She had burnished copper brown skin suited to her warm personality. No matter what color she wore, she stood out like a petite bird of the tropics. With the Quinceañera dress, a special dress, full-skirted, ethereal, and long equaled the looks of a Disney princess. The little tiara she wore completed the effect. Her coffee brown eyes sparkled with the observant intelligence look I remembered, and her hair, dark as ebony created a soft wavy frame around her sweet square-shaped face. Like dark silk crimped perfectly, it fell below her shoulders. Elata was pretty in fifth grade. Now glowing with happiness at her special celebration, she was gorgeous. Among the guests, my heart and mind took note of three students who had also been in classes with Elata in fifth grade.

 

          A couple of years after Elata’s quinceaños, I saw her again.  After 12 years of working with elementary grades, I had put in for a transfer to teach English at the high school. When I first started teaching, it was with high school students. Now, I knew that I had learned a lot from seeing the stages of elementary education. Understanding what students encountered in curriculum and social skills in each grade level would help me be better at working with high school students.

          Students I’d had in elementary grades showed great surprise seeing me in the high school. For them, I was a living anachronism.

            “Mrs. H, what are you doing here?”

            “They finally let me graduate to high school.”

            Something of a low tone buzz went through the high school about this teacher from their childhood who had shown up again. Once they got past the dissonance of seeing me in the high school, we adjusted, though many days I felt like a beekeeper. With some of the long-time high school teachers and some students, stings could come in unexpected comments and actions.

            Elata found my room one day. Although the teachers’ union warned against hugging students, we were so happy to see one another that a hug formed our greeting.

            “It is wonderful to see you Elata! I haven’t seen you since your wonderful Quinceañera. You looked like a princess! It was so good to celebrate with you, and soon you will have another reason to celebrate. You will graduate from high school.”

            With my last statement, her smile disappeared. Tears filled her eyes.

            “I hope I graduate. Since that first year in school, I have to work so hard and still just get Ds in so many subjects. This year has not had a good start.”

            “I’m so sorry. How can I help? Would you like to come to this room after school for some help?”

            We found times when she could come for extra help with tasks like interpretations, research, citations, and paragraphing. Her grades improved in the subjects that required research, analysis, and more formal writing than free writing. Most of us can improve with some one-on-one help in areas where we struggle.

            Elata not only graduated but she was also accepted at a college and she managed to do well in her work there. Most of the courses required reading of dense material, analysis, research, and writing in an academic style. She sent me a copy of one of the essays she had received back marked with an A.

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           I have moved far away from that Jersey shore county, but Elata still lives there and has her own family. She has a broad set of friends and many of them speak Spanish. The county she came to as a non-English speaking child has become her home. Elata has helped her own children with their school work

and they have made the honor roll.

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