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Coming to America: ELL students share their stories


BY KATELYN KASELLA

Najla Amundson, a North Dakota State University speech coach, faced an antsy class of six at Fargo South High School on a chilly, January morning.

 

She had been invited by Leah Juelke to assist the students in improving their public speaking skills. These kids, along with all others in Juelke’s Advanced English Language Learners classes, would be sharing their stories of coming to America at NDSU the following week.

 

In this particular class, the students were between 15 and 20 years old and most came from refugee camps in Nepal. Some came without parents, brothers or sisters. Most grew up in bamboo huts, and attended schools where their teachers physically mistreated them. While every student had different memories, each story ended the same. They arrived in America happy for new opportunities, mostly better education, but sad about the memories and people that were left behind.

 

Amundson led the students through breathing exercises and cheers to loosen their nerves. Then, she asked them to stand up and practice speaking. She asked three questions.

 

The first: What is the weirdest thing about Fargo?

 

“In the morning when you wake up, you don’t say hi to each other,” said 20-year-old Majda Hussein, from Nepal. A scarf, featuring bright yellow, cartoon minions, covered most of her face, but you could clearly make out her surprise. “In my culture, we greet our neighbors – north, east, south, west.”

 

Another girl agreed. People are not as friendly here, she said. They do not ask you where you are from or if you need help. “Here you are on your own,” she said.

 

After the students finished answering, Amundson gave them some tips for public speaking – try not to touch the table or your face – and then shared her own story about her parents coming from Syria. She explained how it was difficult for her to be olive skinned with curly hair among pale, blonde students, and how it felt odd to practice a different culture and speak Arabic at home and then come to school.

 

HELPING THEM FIND THEIR VOICES

 

The students looked surprised to find out that Amundson was a second-generation immigrant. The room fell quiet until Amundson asked the second question: What is one thing you really like about Fargo?

 

The room remained quiet. “School lunches?” Amundson asked jokingly.

 

The students laughed and groaned. After a few beats, Majda piped up.

 

“Shopping for clothes or groceries,” Majda said. “We don’t have food laying around like that.”

 

Having good education, one boy said. Christmas, another girl said with a smile. They don’t have a lot of crime and fight, another said. 

 

“I like that they show their respect,” one boy, who hadn’t spoken much during the class, said. He struggled to find the right words. “It doesn’t matter if they’re old or young, they respect.”

 

For the last question, Amundson asked the students what they would like to share. After a bit of silence, a student suggested that they share their journey.

 

Amundson agreed. She asked them to share one part – any part – of their journey to America.

 

Nobody spoke and nobody smiled.

 

Amundson explained that is could be anything - the airplane ride, coming into Fargo, the food. It didn’t have to be a bad memory with hard details.

 

Still, nobody spoke.

 

Juelke spoke up. She asked Majda to share, noting that Majda had recently shared her story on the radio.

 

Majda sighed and looked away.

 

“Sometimes, it takes you back to a soft place,” she said.

 

She had married at 14 in a refugee camp and now had a 6-year-old son. When her family was accepted into the United States, she was forced to leave her husband behind.

 

“Another question,” Majda said. And the subject was dropped.

 

10 PERCENT OF SOUTH STUDENTS ENROLLED IN ELL

 

At Fargo South, 110 students - or 10 percent of the school’s population – are enrolled in ELL classes,  the highest population of ELL students in all the Fargo school districts.

 

Affordable housing near Fargo South is a contributing factor of the high ELL population, according to Fargo’s ELL Director Vonnie Sanders. Refugees in the area, who are roughly 80 percent new Americans and 20 percent second or third generation refugees who have come to Fargo for job opportunities, tend to live in affordable apartments.

 

In the school, there are six full-time ELL teachers; two teach English, two teach math, one teaches science and one teaches social studies.

 

Juelke teaches English. Over the school year, Juelke’s Advanced ELL students prepared short stories about their journeys to America.

 

Kalai Laizer, a senior at Concordia, student taught for Juelke from September to December. Laizer is from Tanzania and was invited to study at Concordia in 2011. She wrote her short story about coming to America as an example for Juelke’s advanced ELL class.

 

“A male speaker from Sudan, a lost boy, visited class. He came to talk to them and tell his story and then after that I read mine to them, then they drafted,” Laizer said.

 

Laizer said that sharing her story helped the class not to feel inferior as refugees, and feel more comfortable about writing their own stories.

 

“Mine was not a refugee story but it helped them to relate,” Laizer said. “We told them to just say what made them comfortable.”

 

The lost boy’s tale, along with Laizer’s, proved to influence the class into writing their personal, bittersweet tales. Over the semester, Juelke and Laizer read and edited the students’ stories. In late January, the students were ready to present.

 

"I NEVER SAW MY PARENTS AGAIN"

 

The Prairie Room at NDSU was crowded on the day of their presentations. Students, professors, teachers and other community members struggled to find seats, and there was a constant flow of people entering and exiting the room between speeches.

A young woman wearing a pink and brown dress with a matching headband took the stage. Her hair lay in a neat bun on the top of her head.

 

“Some things change forever by Nakafu Kahasha,” she said.  Her slow, confident speaking voice proved the class spent with Amundson to be beneficial.

 

“Shhhhh, my mom whispered. I was shaking uncontrollably. My two brothers, parents and I were hiding under the bed. We heard people screaming outside, women, men and children. I was scared and I started to cry. My mom told me to be quiet so that they wouldn’t hear us. After about five or six hours, it was dark outside and we came out from under the bed.” Kahasha said.

 

Kahasha continued to tell how her family and her were able to escape from Congo to Kigoma, Tanzania. They were there for one year when they received word that Kahasha’s grandfather had died, so her parents returned to Congo. One month later her grandmother passed away, so her parents expanded their stay. The stay turned into months.

 

After receiving a terrifying phone call from their uncle that people wanted to kill them, Kahasha and her brothers escaped to Kanembaw refugee camp six months after their parents had returned to Congo.

 

“I never saw my parents again,” Kahasha said. “I never got a chance to say goodbye to my parents in person.”

 

Kahasha spent the first week in the camp sobbing and missing her parents. A few months after arriving, she got extremely sick with malaria.

 

“My whole refugee life was spent sick in the hospital,” Kahasha said.

 

After two-and-a-half years in the camp, Kahasha’s brothers and her saw a light at the end of their tunnel when they were accepted into the United States. She wrote about meeting a man named Chris at the Fargo airport, and smiling at him because she had no idea what he was saying. She remembered the excitement she felt when seeing her new home.

 

“I smiled thinking about our wonderful new place, but deep down I still felt sad because I knew my parents would never be able to share this life with us.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

After a few months and a turbulent plane ride, Dahal arrived in Fargo in May of 2012.

 

“My journey had brought me to America and I was planning on staying far away from any rivers while living there.”

 

Dahal walked off stage with a smile. One by one, the rest of Juelke’s students shared their heartwarming, tear jerking and inspiring stories. 

 

 

 

Read the short stories written by Juelke's Advanced ELL students here.

 

 

 

KATELYN KASELLA is a sophomore at Concordia. She writes for the campus newspaper, The Concordian, and plans to travel as much as possible before and after graduation. She hopes to write for a reputable newspaper or magazine one day.

 

kkasella@cord.edu

Kahasha exited the stage and the audience erupted into applause. A few minutes later, a girl in a flower patterned dress, introduced as Karisma Dahal, walked on. Her story began with almost drowning in a river near Goldnap refugee camp in Nepal, where she lived.

 

“It was common for kids to drown in the river,” Dahal said. “It happened almost every day.”

 

She lived with her parents. In 2010, her grandmother brought up the fact that other people in their village were moving to America. ‘It’s not good idea. We don’t know English,’ her grandmother had said.

 

Still, Dahal felt that moving to America would be best for her future. In January of 2012, she brought up the possibility to her parents during a trip to the market. To her surprise, her parents agreed that it would be best.

 

A student from Leah Juelke's advanced ELL class speaks at NDSU. Photo by Katelyn Kasella.

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