Being an ESL Student

When we move out of our “comfort zone,” we often lose our sense of self and safety. We may have a compass in our hand, but it is spinning in all directions. We don’t know where to go next...

I have never had to leave my home to study another language in a new country. Because of this, I cannot know exactly what you are experiencing. I do not know the loneliness, the frustration, and discouragement most of you face every day. However, my imagination, as well as my dealings with actual ESL students, most of whom have left the familiarity of their homeland, tell me that you are, indeed, experiencing a great deal of stress and unhappiness that you do not express to others. 

You have already done something that took immense courage: leaving your familiar home to study here in the U.S. Many of you are here alone, without any family members to comfort or support you. I know that most of you live with a host family; sometimes these people are relatives. Unfortunately, even if they are relatives, you do not know them well or at all.  Others of you reside with strangers who, hopefully, speak your language. Even so, it can be uncomfortable. You do not feel “at home.” It is awkward sharing a living space with people with whom you are not acquainted. You are not sure what kind of behavior is acceptable or proper. They have probably explained the house rules, but there are still many things about which you are not sure. There are “unwritten” expectations or taboos. Not wanting to overstep an invisible line, you stay in your room most of the time. Maybe they have invited you to use the television, but you still don’t know when that is okay. What if you are watching a movie when they want to use the TV? How would you know? You try not to go into the kitchen if they are there. Maybe they want to use the stove at the same time you are cooking something. You don’t want to bother them. Perhaps they are getting tired of you and wish you were not there. That is a terrible worry. In addition to this, you might feel they are watching your every move, judging you or disapproving of you. Sometimes they give you advice you don’t want or ask questions that are not their business. One female student even told me that the lady from whom she rents a room invades her privacy. The woman enters the student’s room to make sure she is keeping it clean. The student feels very upset about this.

Going shopping is a huge ordeal, too. The items you need do not have the same names and packaging as they did in your country. You cannot understand the writing and directions on the boxes, cans, and bags.  Not only do you have to deal with locating the items you need, but you may also have to communicate with the store merchants. You are afraid to ask anyone anything, so you do your best all on your own. It is even harder if you do not have a car. That means you can only buy what you can carry in one trip. As a result, you have to return more often to the stores, which is exactly what you do not want to do. What’s more, you have to figure out the bus schedule to take you to and from the shops. You discover that the buses do not run as often as is convenient for your schedule.  Plus, you are used to a more modern public transportation system. Once you find the correct bus, your feelings are hurt by people who are not willing to help you or by their lack of understanding due to your accent or insufficient vocabulary. You need kindness, but you encounter so much impatience and intolerance. What used to be an easy and even enjoyable shopping trip at home has now become a dreaded task.

When you left your country, you had a compass in your hand—maybe not an actual compass—that told you where you were going. You had the plane ticket and a map. You had made plans. You had hopes, and you were both scared and excited. Then, when you arrived here, the points of that compass began to spin in all directions. Where should you go next? What should you do now? So little of the reality matched your expectations. Your direction became unclear. Yes, you knew how to physically get to the college where you would be studying, for example, but what were you supposed to do when you got there? You looked for friendly faces in the crowd. Very few people smiled; they were all too busy with their own lives. You desperately wished someone would come along and be your personal assistant, leading you to to the correct place at the correct time. Sadly, that person does not exist. You wanted to go home. You may still desire to go home.

Not every ESL student will have all of these issues. Certainly, though, some of these situations sound familiar.  I encourage you to read my other blog posts that discuss holding on to hope, finding a safe place, and persevering. Really, these are things you will have to do to survive. The ESL students I work with all face many challenges—the ones I mentioned and so many more. However, I want to tell you that they do find friends and begin to enjoy their new life. The homesickness does not go away, but it fades. Life gets easier. The compass needles stop spinning so fast.

ESL Students: In-Class Essay

As an ESL tutor, I sometimes have the opportunity to be embedded in a class of English learners. Recently, as the students in an ESL class were writing a timed, in-class essay, I decided to write the essay, too, since I liked the topic. This is my work from that day. I hope it expresses to you, ESL students, how I feel about your being here in this country. You may need to look up some of the vocabulary, but I encourage you not to stop to understand every word; instead, read the essay for its main message.

For those of you who are at the level of essay-writing, take note of my essay structure: the hook, connecting/bridge information, and thesis statement of the introduction. Then pay attention to the topic sentences and supporting details and examples of the body paragraphs. Finally, get a feel for the construction of the conclusion. Do you see how I referred back to my hook in my conclusion?

The essay question was this: What are the advantages and disadvantages of living in a multi-lingual society?

Life in the Bubble of Babel

     In an attempt to draw physically closer to their God, an ancient people decided that they should build a high tower that reached into the heavens. Vainly, they laid brick upon brick, constructing an edifice that could transport them into a spiritual realm—or so they thought. Their attempt was vain, for they did not realize that proximity to God could not be attained via a shortened physical distance. As punishment for their hardened hearts, God confounded their language. Instead of speaking one communal tongue, they suddenly spoke various languages. This lead to confusion and dismay, for they were no longer able to freely communicate with their fellow citizens. Fast-forwarding thousands of years, a multitude of “Babel towers” stand, soaring into the firmament: We are now a world of diverse languages. Are the speakers filled with frenzy, struggling to be understood and to interact with others—or are they cherishing the chance to grow in their multilingual  society? With personalities and environments as disparate as the pastiche of languages, there are both pros and cons to living in the bubble of Babel.

     There is a con that cannot be ignored: if one cannot communicate adequately in a multilingual environment, one’s identity suffers. The ability to express ourselves to the extent that we are understood and appreciated for that which we contribute is a cornerstone of our identity. When the co-workers, classmates, neighbors, and strangers around us all speak a language or languages that we are not privy to, we have little opportunity to share who we are on the inside. We may be evaluated on our appearance alone or by our clumsy attempts to assert our identity. Who we are may become lost. Others pass us by; we are invisible to them. Without the power of a voice that is understood, we turn faceless. Perhaps Mrs. Hidalgo was a nurse in her native country. Plunged into a society that speaks several languages—none of them her own—she rarely converses. The faces around her may decide she is dull, ignorant, illiterate even. Others identify her as “that quiet, boring woman who cleans hospital rooms.” She is not able to tug on their sleeve in denial, beseeching them to know that she is an RN, for she has lost confidence. Mrs. Hidalgo may even lose her own sense of identity in the darkness of lack of communion with her fellows. A multilingual society may serve as an unscaleable wall when one does not speak in at least one of those myriad tongues.

     Just as a multilingual environment can act as a wall, it can also bring people together to deconstruct that very wall through allowing them to acquire a new language: a definite pro. To illustrate, thirty students representing eight languages may come together in an ESL class. They have recently traveled from their home countries to reside in a multilingual society such as Los Angeles. In their class, not only are they introduced to the common language of English, but they may for the first time be surrounded by the verbal music of Babel. Together they struggle to grasp the concepts of English. Trudging through the fundamentals of grammar, they form alliances with students with whom they are not able to freely communicate. Opportunities to practice patience arise as they are bewildered by foreign accents practically incomprehensible to their ears. During breaks, when students cluster into groups of same languages, each group hears the mysteries of unknown tongues. An Egyptian student may even be overheard teaching a Korean how to say “I love you” in Arabic. Forced to parley in their growing common language, students learn to be accepting, non-critical, compassionate, and trusting. When the same students move out into the streets of Los Angeles’ multilingual charms, they are catapulted into courage. They must take chances and order food in English or explain their circumstances to a public official. Those who reside in multilingual societies have the advantage of having their personal language barriers torn down in order to broaden their acquisition of language.

     Putting aside the practical pro of language learning for a moment, there is a pro to living in an environment of diverse languages that has its roots in the emotions of the human heart; namely, having the privilege to dwell among a plethora of tongues incites emotion. Sitting in a room filled with strangers uttering exotic syllables caresses the ears of the listener. The guttural tones of a German family stir a sense of curiosity. The sing-song jabs of a Southeast Asian language bring a smile to the face. The sweet cacophony of Farsi makes one desire to draw her chair closer. The very sounds that are only peculiar noise to one who does not understand their meaning are like a honey glazing the soul. The heart may get “sticky” with confusion, but it is a loveable confusion. Listening to an Italian mustering all his knowledge of English to tell the doctor that his child is ill bakes a cake of compassion in the spirit. The melody of two girls having an emotionally happy conversation in Spanish swells the heart. This emotional response of hearing a Babel of tongues may not exist for everyone. It is tricky to explain, this surge of emotion caused by the sound of an unknown language. Perhaps it is the spirit responding to the humanity in others—a shared humanity. Perhaps it lays us open to vulnerability, or we recognize the fragility of others. Maybe there is an energy of joy in the sonorous melee. Whatever it may be, living in a multilingual society allows some listeners to experience the emotions that are somehow engendered by Babel.

     When entering any city or environment that boasts a Tower of Babel, pause before entering. Pause long enough to ask questions to the heart: What may be found within? What obstacles must be contended with? What lessons may be swallowed whole? What love, sorrow, or pity may bloom in the gardens of the tower? Approaching the Tower from disparate angles provides manifold perspectives. To one, the Tower may, indeed, be a punishment, a sad dimension in which self-identity is lost, where the voice is muted and the face becomes featureless. To another, the Tower of a multilingual society offers a staircase to climb to wrench a bilingual star from the midnight sky. The pros and cons of a language-rich society are made clear by the attitude of the one who approaches: Enter and curse the confusion and hardship, or enter and get a glimpse of God.


ESL Students: A Safe Place

Even the strongest among us needs to feel safe. Sometimes, something very small can destroy something great. A powerful runner can trip over a small stone and fall, losing the race. A slim arrow, rightly placed, can end the life of a majestically-proportioned elephant. A single cruel word or mean facial expression can wound the heart of a human being.

This latter example is especially true when the person is not mighty and strong but is, instead, a fragile ESL student. I want to make it clear that you, as a person, may not be fragile. In your home country, you may have been an individual filled with personal strength and confidence. You had family surrounding you. You may have had countless friends; you may have even been the leader of your group—admired, respected, loved. You may have been highly educated and had an upper-level job. Were you a teacher? An engineer? A doctor? Suddenly, though, you are in a new country, and so much of that strength and assurance you had is gone. Because you are not fluent in English, you cannot find a job to match the skills you have acquired. Nobody here knows you. They do not know the confidence you had at home. Your true identity seems hidden now. Where is the respect? Where is that lovely feeling of being included and accepted? You have, in some ways, become fragile. You need a safe place to go. You need the safety of friends.

This sense of fragility and vulnerability is normal in your situation, for so much of our self-confidence is based on our sense of identity. When we move to a new place, that identity is usually weakened. Thus, we need to rebuild it, but this takes time. You, as an ESL student, need to know how to best begin rebuilding your identity and self-assurance. You need to grow strong again. You cannot survive well if you remain fragile. You will get hurt too often, and the pain will discourage you. There are sure ways to blossom in a new environment….

Look for friendly faces. In any place and in any culture, there are people who have a light inside of them. They have an acceptance of people that transcends borders of countries, skin color, and all kinds of differences. They love people simply because they know we are all the same inside and that we are just trying to get through life with as little pain as possible. People with this light inside want to help. This light will often be evident through a smile on the face, and these people tend to smile at strangers. They are the ones with the open spirits, the kind souls. You will do well to respond to their smiles. Watch these individuals. Keep track of where you see them. One smile can lead to a brief exchange of words. A few words can lead to a conversation. You know that a conversation can lead to a new friendship. As you speak to these people, you will know right away by their attitude toward you whether or not they are patient and accepting of new cultures. They will either make an effort to understand your accent or not. If they do not, you know that they are probably not the “safe place” you are looking for.  Move on. When you find people who make that effort to communicate with you despite your accent and lack of vocabulary, keep coming back to them. You will gain the chance to learn about them, and they will learn who you are. When others listen as you talk about yourself—where you come from and your interests and abilities—you start to regain your identity, for you will be recognized as an individual.  Then you can develop the basic skills you need while basking in the light of their acceptance.

Take chances. It takes courage to put yourself forth. Even if someone seems friendly, you don’t want to assume they want to be your friend. I know. Nevertheless, you will have to take the risk. Choose someone with whom you would like to be friends—someone who seems to have that special light inside. Start by sitting at the same study table in the library, for instance. Sometimes just sitting near someone friendly while you study makes a big difference in how you feel inside your heart.  Start noticing when this particular student comes to the library or other study place and try to be there at the same time. You can develop a routine where you see the same friendly student on a regular basis. You will start to experience a feeling of comfort as you exchange smiles. A sense of companionship will begin to bloom. Even doing something as simple as borrowing an eraser or asking him or her to watch your belongings while you run to the bathroom creates an environment of trust and camaraderie. When you feel enough at ease, you can ask him or her a simple question. Listen carefully and ask the student to repeat what he or she said if you do not understand. Notice his or her reaction to you. You may feel awkward, but do it anyway.  Allow the student to feel a little uncomfortable, too, for it is difficult to speak and not be understood.  When you engage in a conversation, you are exchanging identities. It is natural to feel shy and awkward when a language barrier prohibits smooth conversation. Let this be a slow process, for true growing of any kind must happen gradually. 

Move your seat. Most of the time in a college setting, professors allow the students to sit wherever they want. There usually is no set seating chart. This is your chance to keep your eyes open for the most friendly, serious students. During class, in addition to listening to your professors, watch the other students. Notice the ones who raise their hands to ask questions or participate. If these students seem friendly, you know you have found a safe place. Now, even if you have been sitting in one place so far, you can decide to move to sit near these students. When you do this, you are placing yourself in the best environment to learn and strengthen your sense of identity. When you sit close to these active students, there is more of a chance to interact with them daily and to have your own voice heard. If the professor suggests group discussions, you are already close to the ones with whom you feel most safe and accepted. Remember that this, too, will be a slow process. It is never easy to risk speaking up and being hurt.

I want you to remember that even in your home country it is not easy to speak up in class. Unless you are one of those super-confident people, it is hard to raise your hand and ask the professor to clarify a point. It is daunting to meet new friends. We want to be loved and accepted and are not sure we will be. We are always taking risks and pushing ourselves to be stronger. Naturally, all this becomes more difficult when we do not speak the language of our new country fluently. That is why finding a safe place is so necessary. If we do not feel safe, we will not be able to move forward.

I want you to move forward.