I dreaded going to the Phans to tutor them in English. I felt so unprepared and overwhelmed with the unfamiliar situation I had signed up for, that all night I woke up having stress-dreams of possible bad or embarrassing situations that could happen. When it was finally time to actually get out of bed and face the morning, I was feeling like I was starting a new job and had all the anxiety that goes along with that. I have not tutored anyone other than my own children and at times their friends. Why did I sign up for something that was so hard? If I wanted to do volunteer work, why didn’t I sign up for just serving food in a soup kitchen? At least I would be with others and not have to face a foreign situation on my own. I know I will never sign up for soup kitchen work because I have a hard time dealing with the smell of homeless people. It makes me gag.
Before I left the house, I grabbed a handful of pennies and other coins and a packet of sticky-notes. I thought I could at least label all the furniture with the sticky-notes and get them familiar with American coins. But would this be enough to take up two hours? Probably not. I was worried that the scenarios in my dreams were going to come true.
I knocked on the door and both parents greeted with me with large smiles. They moved the old desk into the middle of the living room and set a white plastic lawn chair at it, then brought in a smaller table and set it next to the desk, with a smaller chair. When they asked me to sit at the big desk, it hit me that they were setting up a classroom. That felt wrong, since I was not really a teacher, I wanted to be more of a friend that has something to offer. May, the mother, placed plastic platters of small bananas, grapes, lichis and apples on the desk, then got out her binder from her ESL class. I looked at it and asked her a few questions from it. Tomtom, who will be 10 years old next week, handed me an envelope that was addressed to “The Parents of Tomtom.” I opened it and read it. It was a notice that Tomtom would be given a questionnaire to collect student data. It would not affect his grade and parents could choose to have their children opt out of it. It took a while, but I explained to Sonny, the fourteen-year old son that I would call the school so he did not have to do it. It would only stress him out and would not affect him in anyway so there was no use in him taking it.
Sonny went off with some friends. Tomtom got out a sheet of homework that he needed help completing. He sat on the floor, so I joined him. The big “teacher desk” was not used as we spent the next hour and 45 minutes on the floor, using a kitchen chair that had the back broken off as a makeshift writing surface. Tomtom’s homework sheet had a handful of questions on it. We started at the top, with “What is your full name?” Somehow, in the few months that he has been here, he has learned how to print letters, but he could not sound out words very well. The next question asked when he was born. That was the last of the sensible questions, because the next question was “When did you finish high school?” followed by “How long have you been married?” and “What major events have affected your life?” I wondered why a fourth grader would get these questions. He put “No” on the high school one and the marriage one. I had him put “I went on an airplane” for the major event question. Moving from the refugee camp to San Diego by airplane was a major event. I want to be able to ask him what it was like, but am stuck behind the language-barrier wall. This alone is incentive to continue to help them with English.
I brought out the sticky-notes and started to write “desk” or “table” or “calendar” and asked them what I wrote. Sometimes they knew, and most of the time they did not. Once it was determined what the word was, I asked them to write the word in their own language on the back. They would write it in Burmese and in Karen. Then I directed them to put the note on the item. After that, I asked them, “Where is the table?” We spent a lot of time on the difference between “The table is here” vs. “The table is there.” They took turns writing on the backs of the sticky-notes and putting them where they belonged. Both parents and Tomtom were engaged. It felt more like a game, than formal teaching and it was fun. We also learned “near” and “far.” The father, Ser, said, “Teecha live far.” At first I didn’t catch his meaning, but then realized that he was referring to me. I am Teacher (Teecha). It is kind of fun that they call me that. They all called me that, and I learned that it is my new name.
While we were learning, Noah, the youngest son, and Kay Lee, the little girl, quietly played with the menagerie of stuffed animals that populated their house. There very well could be a moratorium on producing any more stuffed animals in the world. Rich or poor, children seem to have dozens of them.
When we started feeling tired of the sticky-notes game, I brought out the small sack of coins and we counted the money and named the coins. I would grab a handful and ask them how much money I had. Then I would ask them to give me 56 cents, or 29 cents. May, the mother, had the most difficulty with the money. Ser, had the easiest time. I was glad, since he is going to start working soon, at Ranch 99, an Asian supermarket. I have so many questions: did he have a job in the refugee camp? Is this his first job in 15 years? How will he get there since it is across town? What kind of work will he do?
Ser said that tomorrow they go to church. I asked what kind and was surprised when he said Baptist. I said, “Not Buddhist?” I think he said that they were Buddhist before, but now they are Baptist. More questions popped in my head: Did the Baptists go to the camps and convert the refugees? How does Jesus and a Western religion like Baptist fit with them, who first and foremost identify themselves as being part of the Karen tribe, and second call themselves Burmese. How does it all fit together?
By the time we had finished playing with the money, two hours had gone by and it was time for me to leave. I felt like it was a successful morning because not only had we worked on English, but I had become much more comfortable with the family and with myself as “Teecha.” All my dread had dissipated. All my insecurity at not knowing what to do melted as we played the sticky-note game and the money game. I look forward to going back. I want to get my questions answered. Someday.
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