I've taught English parttime at our local university for about twenty years now, and during that time, I've noticed that the hardest-working and most respectful students are recent immigrants from Vietnam, Cambodia, Korea, Africa, or Eastern Europe. This gradually got me into ESL, where I've tutored or taught adult immigrants over the last two or three years. I love working with these people because nearly every interaction jars me into a new awareness of my own ingrained assumptions, and the resulting reflection always ends with the same conclusion: that I'm extraordinarily lucky to have been born and lived all these years in the U.S. The invisible privileges of peace, freedom, and the rule of law that I've breathed in like air all these years are now tangible at last. I feel the fullness of them pushing out my chest like an inhalation when I drive around in my car - "anywhere you want," in the amazed words of Alim, my Afghani tutee.
He told me this when we parted after a tutoring session this past July 4; he said "You have good Independence Day, Mary Lee. You drive to any place you want in country of law." I drove off realizing that I had hardly been aware it was the fourth of July, that Alim had actually refreshed my memory of high school history by describing the Boston Tea Party during our session. And when my co-tutor, on call for the weekend at the local hospital where she's a physician, had to step out to call in a prescription for a patient, Alim - who had been a physician before having to flee the Taliban - remarked that we're so lucky to have laws. He said that in Afghanistan, no one needs a doctor's prescription to get drugs. All they need is money or a gun.
This past weekend, my husband and I took Alim on a boat trip in the small run-about my husband has for his sailmaking business. We motored down the Royal River, then out into Casco Bay where we picnicked off the rocky shore of an uninhabited island. Alim asked if we were allowed to be there, if we had to have a special license. No, we told him. He asked if there were police on the island, or in boats nearby, or planes overhead, watching us. I said no, but noticing his incredulity, I allowed that there were Coast Guard guys who patrolled these waters.
When we got to Portland, we buzzed in and out of docks along the waterfront, and I pointed out a Coast Guard boat parked at a pier. Alim nodded, tapping his shoulder to indicate he'd caught the insignia on the officer's sleeve. But it was clear as we wove among the piers, pulling up close enough to listen to a live band in an outside restaurant on one, crawling along the base of a high, football-field-length hull of an oil-tanker at another, buzzing across the harbor to watch kites flying off Spring Point Marina, and inching between girders under the bridge to South Portland, that we were free. Turning to follow anything that caught our attention was as easy as breathing in this warm, salty air.
As we left Portland Harbor headed back to Yarmouth, we passed a seal so close that we could see the startle of its big dark eyes as it caught sight of us, the shine of its wet whiskers as it stared. It dove, and Alim said, "Beautiful creature!" My husband explained that seals don't usually come in so close to shore.
When we got back to the dock in Yarmouth, Alim asked about four words we'd used on the boat ride. I dug out the pad and pen I'd brought along and wrote: seal, shell, sail, and hull, and drew pictures to define them. I tore off the sheet and gave it to him, and we said our goodbyes. As my husband and I drove off, Win remarked on how agog at America Alim is. And then we realized that Alim makes us that way too.
You've captured perfectly how I've felt every time I've worked with clients or students who are not natives of this country. I had the extreme good fortune during my college days as an English Lit major and peer tutor to spend much of my tutoring time with students of ESL. Most of the other tutors were somewhat intimidated by the ESL students and, because I enjoyed working with them so much, that became my niche, and most of those students were referred to me. That led me to decide to live in the International dorm during my jr. and sr. years of college. It also led me to work in the International Affairs office of my alma mater after graduation. And finally, it led me to go to law school to become an immigration attorney. I find that being in close contact with these folks (especially, as you mention, those from Africa, the Middle East, Eastern Europe, Southeast Asia, and other economically and politically depressed areas of the world) keeps me constantly in a state of awe about my own environment and good fortune. Not to mention it often results in amazing social outings featuring ethnic celebrations, incredible food, and the kind of hospitality I never have experienced in the homes of American friends. Isn't it great? Don't you wish everyone could get this perspective?
Posted by: Deb | August 31, 2005 at 01:17 PM
I wish all Americans could share your experience. My Persian brother-in- law 25 years ago opened my eyes to the amazing country we were lucky to be borne into. He fled the Shah just before the Shah was deposed.
Posted by: wayne | September 02, 2005 at 09:21 PM
It is hard to imagine the kind of world Alim lived in before. Americans do take the good life here for granted, it is easy to do so. Thanks for this great story!
Posted by: Cowtown Pattie | September 03, 2005 at 08:35 PM
Send this to your newspaper!
Posted by: Amy | September 06, 2005 at 06:27 AM
What a pleasant reminiscence during these sad times. I am so embarrassed by America now and it is nice to know that many have a better experience.
Posted by: Tabor | September 06, 2005 at 01:50 PM
I, too, have had the pleasant experience of tutoring adult international students from Korea ... I have tutored about 25 students in total over the past few years, and it has been such an immensely rewarding experience. They are learning English from me, but I am learning so much from them in the meantime. Your post reminded me of this once again. Thank you.
Posted by: Lisa | September 06, 2005 at 03:04 PM
It's very possible I was sitting at the Royaal River Grill as you went by. My in-laws live in Falmouth and we drive over to see them quite a bit. We live in the White Mountains.
I was wondering what it takes to get certified to teach ESL. Or, if a certificate is needed at all.
Posted by: zuleme | September 11, 2005 at 07:39 AM
What a refreshing post to read on September 11th.
Posted by: MistressMary | September 11, 2005 at 06:18 PM
Hello again - I've noticed you've not posted for a while and trust everything is Ok with you? hope so! tom
Posted by: Tom Cunliffe | September 12, 2005 at 12:57 PM