At Homestretch, students learn to live the American Dream — and how to say it
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Version 0 of 1. They’ve been through so much, these four women: fled war zones, come to a foreign land, been poor, been homeless, been worried — always — about their children. Somehow, they’ve survived. And here is a two-letter word, trying to trip them up. Do. “I do talk to customers,” some say. “I don’t talk to customers,” others say. “She does talk to customers.” “She doesn’t talk to customers.” Four versions of this simple word, and that’s not even getting beyond the present tense. We’re at an English as a second language class at the Falls Church, Va., office of Homestretch, a charity and partner in The Washington Post Helping Hand. The women come from Afghanistan, Sudan, Somalia and Ethiopia. They speak Pashto, Urdu, Arabic, Amharic — and now, haltingly, English. The two Homestretch teachers are Risham Tariq and Faryal Nasir. They’ve known each other since high school, at J.E.B. Stuart in Fairfax County. They both went to George Mason University — Faryal, 27, studying education and Risham, 25, international relations. Some of the women in the class have already completed the two-year Homestretch program, which sets homeless families up in apartments and bombards them with support: classes in life skills and finances, job counseling, tutoring for the kids. Clients who aren’t proficient in English are required to take ESL classes. They can continue taking those classes — free — even after they leave Homestretch. “The fact that they are committed and they are wanting to learn and immerse themselves in this culture shows how much this program means to them,” Risham says, “and how much the American Dream means to these women.” Though Risham and Faryal speak several foreign languages between them, they don’t need to speak to the students in anything other than English. “Through pictures, through role playing, through acting, through a variety of ways, you’re teaching them a new language,” Risham says. “I think that’s where our inner child comes out.” During the class, the students toss a plush zebra toy back and forth. Whoever holds it must form a sentence that matches a profession with a skill: “A chef knows how to cook.” The women already have jobs — home health aide, babysitter, shampooer in a salon — but they see better English as a way to better opportunities. Many want to be able to pass an exam for a GED. Others want to be CNAs, or certified nursing assistants. “One of the goals we have in this ESL program is to help make our clients not just survive, but thrive in the larger community,” Risham says. “So we want them to be ready to contribute in their workplace, in their community, in their children’s schools, so that every day-to-day life interaction they can complete on their own. It’s survival English at the beginning, then we want them to thrive.” And the women — Homestretch’s clients are largely female; many are victims of domestic abuse — want to be able to speak with their children, who, being young, pick up English as easily as a sponge soaks up water. (And who, the mothers lament, seem to shun their native tongues.) Learning English can be a painfully slow process. “Some of these clients have never even gone to school in their own country,” Risham says. “They do not even have a literacy knowledge in their own language.” It makes the task harder, but the achievement more impressive. The women may come from different countries, but they share the challenges that confront any immigrant. There’s the speed at which native English speakers talk. The impatience others often show with their halting speech. There are words that pop up that they haven’t encountered in class. “What does ‘sued’ mean?” asks one student. Risham and Faryal act it out. “Let’s say I hit Faryal with my car and didn’t pay her,” Risham says. “She could sue me to get the money.” As class ends — there are children to pick up from tutoring downstairs, buses to catch to get home — the teachers remind the students of an upcoming Christmas party. They can bring cuisine from their countries: qabuli palaw, the rice-and-lamb staple from Afghanistan, perhaps, or injera, an Ethiopian flatbread. The women say their goodbyes, remembering the comforts of their old homes while striving to become comfortable in their new one. Homestretch is one of the nonprofits being supported by The Washington Post Helping Hand. Your donation can help other families that face homelessness in Northern Virginia. To give online, visit posthelpinghand.com. To contribute by mail, send a check payable to “Homestretch” to: Homestretch, 303 S. Maple Ave., Falls Church, Va. 22046, Attn: Nan Monday. Twitter: @johnkelly For previous columns, visit washingtonpost.com/johnkelly. |