All posts by Nora Ulloa

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Sisters

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I am a firm believer in storytelling as a way to bond, build connections and develop a sense of community.  In my elementary teaching days, there were few things as powerful as “Question of the Day”, which was a time when we would sit in a circle and have our morning meeting.   If they were not in a verbal mood, or simply did not feel like addressing the question they passed.  In grade school, the students were so eager that I added a tangible component in the form of a stuffed animal. The student in charge of the question of the day would select that day’s mascot, read the question, and then select the student who would share first.  When a student was in possession of the mascot they could share.  If it was not in their hands they were in listening mode.  In this way, I learned a lot about “my kids,” what they liked, their fears and their interests.  Children are beautiful in that you usually know what you are getting.  Their top layer of self-protection has not fully formed.  They are open with their comments and eager to share.  They tend not to hold back or filter too much.

Naturally, in my current E.S.L. adult classes I look for ways to build-in storytelling.  Until the community is strong, adult students are understandably a bit more guarded.  A lot of their storytelling first evolves through their writing.  In my Writing with Oral Practice class, I gave the students open-ended writing assignments.   Most of my students were beyond the book in their mastery of skills and grammar.  When they were given open-ended questions they wrote with abandon.   Some of the writing assignments I gave them were, to write about a person they admired, to write about a special memory, or a write about a time they were afraid.  The stories they produced were poetic and worthy of publication, often deeply personal and wrought with emotion.

Zayra, a very well put together woman who worked in an upscale retail store was sassy and direct. Once she told Leticia, one of her classmates, that her tote bag didn’t look good on her and that she would bring her a better one.  When Zayra said this to Leticia, it was not taken as an insult, it was simply a statement of fact and a sincere offer.  Several of us chimed in, “Bring me one too!”  Zayra was usually rushing to and from class, coming from work or from dropping her children off.  Often one of her children would call her, either needing to be picked up, just checking in or to ask her a question.  She was always well-mannered, excusing herself, calling me aside at some point to apologize for the interruption and explaining the urgency of her situation.

When present in class she was happy, enthusiastic and in good spirits.  Occasionally she brought in homemade dishes to share.  She was a giving person and it was evident that she received joy from sharing her cooking skills.  Her food was delicious and well- received.  For some, it was a taste of the home-made cooking which they missed.  For others, it was a special treat that we would then compare to food from our own culture.  This led to many discussions about the differences and similarities in different ways of preparing food. At times Zayra was quite exhausted, a few times she arrived at class, and I had to ask her if she needed to go home because she did not her beautiful polished self and looked either tired or ill.  One evening her work was completed in her usual manner of writing, a bit sloppy and appearing carelessly done. I did not comment on it, but it stuck in my mind.

In one of her later writings, she revealed that she had separated from her husband, who had been unfaithful to her.  She addressed the pain of his actions and the courage it took for her to move forward without him.  She was now the single parent of several children.   When I read her essay, I reprimanded myself for my unkind thoughts and then suddenly understood so much more about her story.  I now knew why she was exhausted, why her presentation about her family trip had included no pictures of her husband, and why she was always on call for her children.

One of the habits I developed was never to write comments on their original papers. I attached comments on another sheet, or I photocopied their writing and made comments on the copy.  Their writing felt sacred.  I was honored that they opted to share such personal stories and I did not want to be disrespectful by writing comments on their original documents.  I found ways to comment on what they wrote to let them know that they were special and that I valued their trust.  Whether it was an acknowledgment of something they shared, “The necklace that your mother gave to you is beautiful.” or “Thank you for sharing that picture of your children, they look like they had a good time playing in the snow.”

In a setting that can feel overly formal, we enjoyed hearing stories about each other’s lives outside of the classroom.  I included myself in the storytelling by sharing appropriate stories of my own when it was relevant.  This more than anything seemed to help the students feel at ease with me.  When they knew a little more about me they felt more comfortable.  I was surprised at the many commonalities between us.

Towards the end of the semester, Zayra and a classmate, Milla, one from Iraq and one from Iran, said to me, “Teacher you are like a sister to us” and they hugged me.  A trio of sisters from around the globe, brought together at a night class on the campus of GCC – just another night in adult education.

food salad restaurant person
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In one of her later writings, she revealed that she had separated from her husband, who had been unfaithful to her.  She addressed the pain of his actions and the courage it took for her to move forward without him.  She was now the single parent of several children.   When I read her essay, I reprimanded myself for my unkind thoughts and then suddenly understood so much more about her story.  I now knew why she was exhausted, why her presentation about her family trip had included no pictures of her husband, and why she was always on call for her children.

One of the habits I developed was never to write comments on their original papers. I attached comments on another sheet, or I photocopied their writing and made comments on the copy.  Their writing felt sacred.  I was honored that they opted to share such personal stories and I did not want to be disrespectful by writing comments on their original documents.  I found ways to comment on what they wrote to let them know that they were special and that I valued their trust.  Whether it was an acknowledgment of something they shared, “The necklace that your mother gave to you is beautiful.” or “Thank you for sharing that picture of your children, they look like they had a good time playing in the snow.”

Towards the end of the semester, Zayra and a classmate, Milla, one from Iraq and one from Iran, said to me, “Teacher you are like a sister to us” and they hugged me.  A trio of sisters from around the globe, brought together at a night class on the campus of GCC – just another night in adult education.

 
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I Was Here First

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My adult E.S.L. students were assigned presentations to help them with their verbal fluency.  Through those presentations, I learned about a range of new topics including cooking native dishes such as Persian Potatoes Kuku, growing bean sprouts in the manner which Vi, a Vietnamese woman, learned from her mother.  Teresa brought her binder of coupons and several large bottles of shampoo and explained to the class how she had purchased those bottles at no cost using manufactures coupons as well as store discounts.  She immediately had their attention when she explained that she spent no money to buy the large bottles covering the desk. When asked why she needed so much shampoo she explained that her purchases were very much appreciated when given to friends and family in Mexico. Her presentation was among the most appreciated by the students, most of whom had no idea how to use coupons.

Asal, a young Afghani woman, shared with us about the beauty of her hometown in the Bamiyan Valley of central Afghanistan where ancient giant Buddha statues destroyed in 2001.  Many of us in the class had followed that event when it happened but listening to someone from that geographic area speak about the devastation to her country with such deep sorrow was moving.

Mateo shared about his travels from Cuba to Ecuador and then up north through Central America to Texas.  He brought in a handmade map drawn for the purpose of showing us his journey. He told us about the challenges of working as an immigrant in Ecuador and the difficulty of earning enough income to survive.  Mateo spoke about the generosity of strangers who provided him with food and invited him into their homes during the long journey.

Unfortunately, when he finally arrived at the American border in Texas, he was astounded at the poor treatment he received from American border patrol agents.  Their accent and appearance indicated that these border agents were Latino and definitely they were native Spanish speakers.  They were rude and seemed to go out of their way to make it clear that they were not impressed by his pursuit of American citizenship. They treated him as if they were not themselves first generation children of immigrants.  He left us speechless and brought us to tears.  Those who were of Latino origin knew exactly the cultural experience Mateo described.

He shared the interactions that transpired between himself, an immigrant who quite literally sacrificed his life to get to this country, and the first Americans he met in the United States, descended from Latino immigrants.  He was treated as an inferior, not worthy of respect.  His will, his sacrifices and his steadfast focus on attaining his goals demonstrated a strength of character that thankfully most of us will never have to draw upon.  Mateo saw the irony of the border agents who were treating those who followed in their fathers’ footsteps as if by negating the experiences of their parents they were more virtuous than someone recently arrived.  Despite politics, immigration laws, and job duties, there are ways to treat others with civility and kindness.   Mateo asked, “Why they cannot have compassion for someone who is like their parents?”   It was a question to which there could be no satisfactory answer.

 
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Never Underestimate the Value of a Good Laugh

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Last semester I taught my first adult class ESL at GCC. My students’ English was quite good. After a few classes, I was passionate about my teaching assignment and bonded to this group of adults from around the world. There were students in the class from Peru, Viet Nam, Columbia, Cuba, Iraq, Iran, Afghanistan, Venezuela, and Mexico.

Working with adults who are educated professionals in their home countries, but who are working on mastering a second, third or in the case of one gentleman,  a fourth language was a privilege. I know through family stories the sacrifices that individuals make when they decide to risk it all, for a better and safer life for themselves and their children. However, I had never heard those types of personal stories from “strangers.” The world immediately became a smaller place. I never missed a class, and I looked forward to the motivation they gave me at each class meeting. If I dared arrive late, they expressed their unhappiness, “Teacher, why you are late?” Being inflexible was not something I modeled, but they valued every minute of their classroom time and wanted to start class on time –every time!

When any one of them told a story about their home country, their family or shared their emotions at the trauma of leaving beloved family members behind, their classmates were silent and respectful. Their silence was indicative of their compassion. Afterward they often quietly went up to their peer and offered comfort. Most of my students began learning English in their home countries and most had taken several lower level classes at GCC. Their fluency, significant vocabulary, and commitment to learning all the rules and exceptions exceeded my expectations. They were very knowledgeable of grammar, but they lacked confidence and experience speaking.

As a result, I revised my teaching format to be more small-group based and to mandate class participation with the goal of increasing the opportunities to practice speaking.   I gave an assignment that involved making a short presentation.  Students were asked to prepare a presentation of between three and five minutes in length. At first, it was clear that they were nervous and for the first time, they lacked overt confidence.  However, once the first two presentations had been completed it became slightly competitive, with students striving to add a new approach to their own session.  Students quickly assumed several helping roles.  A couple who sat near the front were the technology assistants, one took charge of the lights and at the end of class at least one person would ask, “Who will share next class?”

Several times the class unanimously requested to hear a presentation again. I never protested the request, without fail the second time was a stronger presentation. If their peers felt that the presenter needed additional practice or that they wanted to hear the information again that meant they found value in the experience. At times the request was accompanied by an explanation such as, “You spoke too fast, can you do it again slower?” Not one person declined to repeat their presentation. They looked upon the request as an opportunity to practice their English and accepted the invitation as an honor.

Jovan asked what would happen if the presentation exceeded five minutes. I jokingly replied that I would have to gong them. “What means to gong?” one of his classmates asked. I started explaining about an old TV show called “The Gong Show.” Jovan immediately reenacted a hand gesture hat Chuck Berris, the host of this late 70s TV show, made on every episode while he danced away on the sidelines of the stage. I laughed and asked him how he knew about the Gong Show. He informed me about his online English teacher, “YouTube.” I would never have been able to reenact that physical gesture. However, as soon as Jovan mimicked it, I instantly recognized it.

Jovan smiled gleefully with a special twinkle in his eye,  he knew that he had impressed me with his knowledge of  an iconic American form of entertainment, the game show.  For the rest of that class session he would look at me periodically and make the dancing hand motions and he would laugh.  Jovan is a very perceptive student with an amazing sense of humor.    Never underestimate the value of a good laugh!