(Students’ names have been shortened for privacy.)
I was nervous walking into the office—this was going to be my first encounter with one of our potential new students. I’d spent the last couple months reading up on Nepali background and history, yet I still had no idea what to expect. My nerves settled as soon as I saw the boys and I realized how irrational it was to be nervous in the first place. These were kids, just like the kids I had taught before. Their culture may be very different from mine and their experiences beyond anything I could imagine, but the desire to just be playful and inquisitive boys was still there.
The first thing I noticed when entering the office was how short the two boys were. An odd observation I know, but I would have guessed that G, the older of the two boys, was going to be entering Grade 4. I was shocked to find out that he was the one we would be testing for our Grade 9 classroom. I was informed later that, because of the lack of resources in the Nepali refugee camps, the students’ growth is often stunted due to malnutrition.
My second observation was how scared the father looked. He sat in the back of the classroom and clung to his backpack for the entire meeting. Our immigrant services representative was there translating the entire process to him, but he still looked terrified. I can only imagine the stress that he was going through: the fear of dealing with so many unknowns in a completely foreign world; the confusion of language barriers and cultural expectations; the stress of having your sons tested and judged, a process which will drastically affect their fate in this new country. It’s stressful sending your son to school for the first time when you have a solid grasp of the expectations and environment—I can’t begin to grasp what this father was going through.
After some preliminary introductions we jumped right into the testing process. G came with David and me, and his younger brother went with Drew from Wilson to see if he would need to be in the junior high program there. We were using Jerry L. Johns’ Basic Reading Inventory Performance to test his reading grade level. G was off to a strong start—he wrote out his name and the date in very neat, English print. His struggle became immediately apparent once we began the reading clarity and comprehension aspect. He read through the words with great speed and confidence—a clear sign of a boy who wanted to impress us with how much he knew—but the words that were coming out were not the same as those written on the page. He flew through the list in seconds but only managed to properly read out half of the words on the Grade 1 vocabulary list. For the reading comprehension, despite having the opportunity to read the given paragraph both in his head and out loud, when it came time to answer Grade 1 questions on the information, he mostly drew blanks. We finished off the test and thanked him for his time.
It was quite apparent that G was going to need the help of our program—there was no way he would be successful in a mainstream classroom. It was very important for me to see this process. While I had been told our students’ reading level was not great, I had still been basing my lessons on the idea that they were Grade 9 students who struggled with English. I was not expected students with a Grade 1 reading level. It was interesting to note, though, that while G had scored in the Grade 1 level, his brother, who was going in to Grade 6, scored in the Grade 4 reading level. The boys had been in the country for a year and it was apparent that M had benefitted much more from the Grade 5 classroom. Part of this could be attributed to his younger, more malleable brain, but part could also be attributed to being in a classroom more dedicated to the fundamentals of language. In Grade 5 you’re still learning how to read and write, while in Grade 8 you’re expected to have moved on to comprehension and analysis.
My observations today showed me exactly why this program exists. Putting G in a mainstream classroom would do nothing for his education. He would flounder, become frustrated, and ultimately fail. In this program the expectations are much different. He will be assisted on an individual basis and taught the basics of a language that he is still trying to grasp. He will learn the fundamentals of primary education—how to colour a picture, how to hold a traditional conversation, how to hold a pair of scissors. He will learn about the nuances of Canadian culture—how to ride public transit, how to get a library card, how to order food at a restaurant. He will be integrated into Canada in a way that does not automatically label him with an ‘F’, but in an environment that will prepare him for life in his new home. He will be taught in a way that prepares him for his new life without disregarding or diminishing his past life. Here he will not fail as a student, but will succeed as a person.
I was nervous walking into the office—this was going to be my first encounter with one of our potential new students. I’d spent the last couple months reading up on Nepali background and history, yet I still had no idea what to expect. My nerves settled as soon as I saw the boys and I realized how irrational it was to be nervous in the first place. These were kids, just like the kids I had taught before. Their culture may be very different from mine and their experiences beyond anything I could imagine, but the desire to just be playful and inquisitive boys was still there.
The first thing I noticed when entering the office was how short the two boys were. An odd observation I know, but I would have guessed that G, the older of the two boys, was going to be entering Grade 4. I was shocked to find out that he was the one we would be testing for our Grade 9 classroom. I was informed later that, because of the lack of resources in the Nepali refugee camps, the students’ growth is often stunted due to malnutrition.
My second observation was how scared the father looked. He sat in the back of the classroom and clung to his backpack for the entire meeting. Our immigrant services representative was there translating the entire process to him, but he still looked terrified. I can only imagine the stress that he was going through: the fear of dealing with so many unknowns in a completely foreign world; the confusion of language barriers and cultural expectations; the stress of having your sons tested and judged, a process which will drastically affect their fate in this new country. It’s stressful sending your son to school for the first time when you have a solid grasp of the expectations and environment—I can’t begin to grasp what this father was going through.
After some preliminary introductions we jumped right into the testing process. G came with David and me, and his younger brother went with Drew from Wilson to see if he would need to be in the junior high program there. We were using Jerry L. Johns’ Basic Reading Inventory Performance to test his reading grade level. G was off to a strong start—he wrote out his name and the date in very neat, English print. His struggle became immediately apparent once we began the reading clarity and comprehension aspect. He read through the words with great speed and confidence—a clear sign of a boy who wanted to impress us with how much he knew—but the words that were coming out were not the same as those written on the page. He flew through the list in seconds but only managed to properly read out half of the words on the Grade 1 vocabulary list. For the reading comprehension, despite having the opportunity to read the given paragraph both in his head and out loud, when it came time to answer Grade 1 questions on the information, he mostly drew blanks. We finished off the test and thanked him for his time.
It was quite apparent that G was going to need the help of our program—there was no way he would be successful in a mainstream classroom. It was very important for me to see this process. While I had been told our students’ reading level was not great, I had still been basing my lessons on the idea that they were Grade 9 students who struggled with English. I was not expected students with a Grade 1 reading level. It was interesting to note, though, that while G had scored in the Grade 1 level, his brother, who was going in to Grade 6, scored in the Grade 4 reading level. The boys had been in the country for a year and it was apparent that M had benefitted much more from the Grade 5 classroom. Part of this could be attributed to his younger, more malleable brain, but part could also be attributed to being in a classroom more dedicated to the fundamentals of language. In Grade 5 you’re still learning how to read and write, while in Grade 8 you’re expected to have moved on to comprehension and analysis.
My observations today showed me exactly why this program exists. Putting G in a mainstream classroom would do nothing for his education. He would flounder, become frustrated, and ultimately fail. In this program the expectations are much different. He will be assisted on an individual basis and taught the basics of a language that he is still trying to grasp. He will learn the fundamentals of primary education—how to colour a picture, how to hold a traditional conversation, how to hold a pair of scissors. He will learn about the nuances of Canadian culture—how to ride public transit, how to get a library card, how to order food at a restaurant. He will be integrated into Canada in a way that does not automatically label him with an ‘F’, but in an environment that will prepare him for life in his new home. He will be taught in a way that prepares him for his new life without disregarding or diminishing his past life. Here he will not fail as a student, but will succeed as a person.