Some Immigrants in Schools Achieve Against All Odds

Two years ago, the name Esso Orient became permanently etched in Minh Nguyen’s mind. That’s the tanker that rescued Minh, his parents and 75 other Vietnamese escaping their native land in his uncle’s rickety junk that bobbed unsteadily in the South China Sea.

Last month, the now 14-year-old Wilson Middle School student learned the name of a different ship. The boy was one of five Wilson students selected in an essay competition for a five-day cruise on the aircraft carrier Independence, whose crew has adopted the East San Diego school as its education partner.

Less than 5 miles away at Lewis Junior High in Allied Gardens, ninth-grader Barbara Brejnak muscles her way through English-as-a-second-language classes while holding down a full schedule of ninth-grade math, science, art and gym--all with A’s and B’s--only four months after arriving here from a small Polish village.

Longtime friends of Barbara’s family, who emigrated here three years ago, were finally able this summer to fulfill the 15-year-old girl’s dream to go to America for schooling by bringing her here on a student visa. By luck, they found themselves enrolling her at the one city school whose principal can speak Polish and Russian.

A Big Challenge

Minh and Barbara: two immigrant students, from vastly different countries and backgrounds, both ended up in San Diego, challenging the school system to prepare them for a successful future in the United States.

For teachers at Lewis and Wilson, the two teen-agers’ success symbolizes what can be achieved by the foreign-born students crowding into schools, both in San Diego and across the state. No statistics show whether the two teens’ success is matched by foreign students overall, but teachers say Minh and Barbara show the potential inherent in all children if the school works energetically to encourage learning.

The red-cheeked, freshly scrubbed Barbara never loses her smile despite the many questions put to her by Lewis Principal Walter Romanowski, a former teacher of Russian at Point Loma High School.

Romanowski acts as an “ombudsman” for Barbara when she runs into problems, which he says have been surprisingly few.

“I’ve called her in at length for tutoring, maybe a half-dozen times,” Romanowski said. “But, put yourself in her spot, coming to this country and not knowing one word of English, and think about how much trouble you might have.”

Trying Hard

But Barbara is a fast learner, according to teachers. Already, she is using full sentences as answers instead of single words and is now--to the delight of counselor Virginia Reed--eating lunch with an American friend instead of leaning against an awning pole, alone with her sandwich.

Barbara speaks glowingly of English-as-a-second-language instructor Anita Schonbrun, who works with her for an hour a day. Romanowski also has set up a special first-period class for Barbara and other foreign students, including several Iranians and Arabs, pairing American student volunteers as mentors for social and academic skills. And he arranged for a math book for non-native speakers to be translated into Polish, with the aid of a specially purchased Polish-English math dictionary.

But Barbara also credits her guardians for her “great happiness so far” in school. Andrzej and Ewa Lojszczyk, well-known art restorers and historians in their native Warsaw, came here three years ago and work on historical objects for the Mission San Diego de Alcala. They have known Barbara and her parents since she was 2, Ewa Lojszczyk said, and promised her farm-bound parents to one day give their daughter the best education possible.

“We exchanged so many letters with her after we came here, and now she is so happy to finally be with us where she has so many more opportunities,” Ewa Lojszczyk said. “We find the teachers want to help, and Barbara works so very, very hard.” Barbara studies three hours a night, and Ewa Lojszczyk--now finishing a graduate degree at San Diego State University--reads with her the simple English-as-a-second-language books.

“They tell me to do the best that I can, and I am trying,” Barbara said.

Packed Daily Routine

Minh Nguyen also smiles a lot these days. His daily routine is packed with school, study and work, as well as memories of less-happy times.

He earns high grades and carries a heavy academic load at Wilson--a school divided almost evenly among black, Latino, white and Indochinese students--and delivers the afternoon Tribune six days a week and on Sunday morning.

“He’s a very good student,” interjects teacher Judy Stout, who had Minh as an advanced English-as-a-second-language student last year after he was raised from the intermediate level. He has now graduated to regular English study.

Minh won the Independence trip for his essay on how he would like to take a trip on a ship that fights for freedom and about his dream of becoming a pilot, as his father was in South Vietnam before it fell to the North in 1975. He was the object of much interest to many crewmen on the Independence, who were curious about his background. Minh enjoyed having the run of the ship--he took hundreds of pictures--and not having to go to bed early.

“At home, I go to bed between 9 and 10 most nights after doing the homework,” Minh said. “My parents (his father is a gardener), they see the newspaper lists of students who have won honors, and they would like me to do the same.”

Gives Teachers Credit

Minh gives much credit to Stout and other teachers. “I really think they try to help students to work, but it’s hard for them to do, because a lot of students are rude and teachers somehow have to work with them anyways,” he said.

On the cover of a notebook he uses as a diary, Minh has drawn a black-and-red pencil sketch of the junk his uncle built in Vietnam in 1984, almost two years before the family finally risked death with their sea escape. The back cover has a drawing of himself riding a water buffalo while playing a bamboo flute, a bittersweet reminder of the eight years his family spent in subsistence farming after his father was released from prison as a former military officer.

Minh has found himself writing a lot as a result of encouragement from Stout and other teachers, essays about his new life and success as well as darker passages about being picked on occasionally for his Asian heritage.

Minh eventually plans a career “in something to do with modern science.”

“My parents want me to be somebody, I want to be somebody, I will make myself somebody,” he said with a smile of determination.