Class of Their Own : After their language school closes, immigrants hire their English teacher to finish the course.

Many immigrants feel that ignorance of English is their greatest obstacle to prosperity in the United States.

So when Iade American Schools closed its 600-student Oxnard campus last month because of financial hardship, the Latino immigrants in Qazi Uddin’s English class were distraught.

English meant good jobs, U.S. citizenship, the American dream. A lack of English diminished the chances of realizing those things.

But the dozen students--most of them poor and relying on scholarships to attend Iade--were not ready to give up.

They rented a small room in the back of an Oxnard travel agency, filled it with old chairs and tables and asked their affable teacher to finish their lesson.

Uddin, who came to the United States from Bangladesh in 1979 with $10 in his pocket and few English skills, agreed--even though the students could each afford to pay him just $15 a week.

“I was sympathetic to their situation, coming to this country and working hard,” said Uddin, 51. “When they called me, I became very emotional. I could make a lot more money doing something else, but I could not say no.”

So Uddin’s English class goes on every weeknight from 6:30 to 9, and the students, who toil in the fields and factories of Oxnard by day, discuss English grammar at night.

“English mucho crazy,” said farm worker Palemon Melo, perplexed by the inconsistencies of the language. “Spanish is much simpler.”

Peaceful has two e’s. Everything is one word. People do not water-ski on the beach. K mart does not sell produce.

Uddin, who has a Ph.D in comparative literature and is fluent in English, Spanish, French, German, Arabic, Sanskrit and half a dozen Indian dialects, does not let any mistake pass uncorrected.

“To survive in a new country, you need to know the language,” said Uddin, who made his living working in restaurants and gas stations when he arrived in the United States. “I enjoy seeing a student who knew no English three months ago speak to me.

“Some of my students still call me at home and say, ‘Teacher, because you taught me English, I am now living a better life.’ That makes me feel very happy.”

Uddin makes a living teaching business English at Sawyer College in Oxnard. He also has taught English at Moorpark College.

Some of the students told their stories to an interviewer in Spanish:

Ruben Bravo rises before dawn every morning and goes to work on a construction crew, propping up drywall until 5 p.m. He then attends Uddin’s class for 2 1/2 hours every weeknight, hoping to learn enough English to pass the U.S. citizenship exam.

“I didn’t know how to write a thing in English before I came here,” said Bravo, 49. “I’m still the slowest person in the class, but I’m learning a lot. A lot of people teach English, but (Uddin) has a lot of patience with us.”

Jose Carmen Garcia, a 30-year-old farm worker from Camarillo, said his three children are growing up as Americans, and he wants to share in their experiences.

“My kids have (school) reports and things, and I can’t even understand them,” Garcia said. “I’m embarrassed to have to ask other people what things mean. I’m tired of that.”

Some single students have other motivations for learning English.

“Maybe we can pick up some American wives,” said Carlos Perez, a 24-year-old lettuce packer. “I like the American women a lot.”

When she came to Oxnard from south Mexico’s Guerrero state a year ago, 20-year-old Martha Rodriguez was thinking of much more than a life of rudimentary labor. And she still is.

“Those of us who don’t know English have to do all the simple work,” said Rodriguez, a farm worker. “I just want to better myself.”