Little Newcomers in a Strange Land

Kathleen Lui’s elementary school students were tightly wrung coils of anxiety on their first day of school.

Most kids are. But these newcomers to University Park Elementary in Irvine, young students just learning English, had special reason.

New country, new school, new classmates, new teacher, new language. There is only so much pressure a child can take.

“You have something of a challenge,” Hiroshi Nagasaki, a UCI pharmacological researcher who moved from Japan five months ago, told his 6-year-old twins, Sayuko and Yukako, in Japanese. “But you have to go through it.”

They didn’t seem convinced. Neither did their classmate, Yasmin Seghatoleslami, 6. The Iranian girl clung to her mother’s arm as her parents prepared to leave after the morning orientation.

“Mama, please don’t go,” she pleaded in Farsi. “I’m afraid.”

Sepideh Seghatoleslami gently patted her daughter’s dark hair, reassuring her.

Yasmin is not usually shy, the mother later explained. The family moved from Iran recently, and adapting to the new surroundings has been a challenge.

“She left her self-confidence in Iran,” said Seghatoleslami, 30. “But this is good for her, to see new things, new cultures.”

University Park Elementary gives a whole new meaning to “fitting in.” More than a third of the school’s 630 students speak a language other than English at home. The school district counts more than 50 languages among its pupils. Those who are not fluent enough in English spend a year in a English Language Development class like Lui’s before they can join in the regular curriculum.

Lui teaches first-, second- and third-graders, and in 10 years she has seen almost the entire world pass through her classroom: Chinese, Czechs, Estonians, Finns, Iranians, Japanese, Koreans, Vietnamese, and this year a lively pair of Russian sisters adopted by an Irvine couple.

“It’s amazing, isn’t it?” said Lui, herself a picture of diversity. She is Japanese Hawaiian, and her husband is of Sicilian and Chinese descent.

On Thursday, she faced her new crop of students, 20 children ages 6 through 10. Nine Korean speakers, seven Japanese, the Russian sisters, the initially reluctant Yasmin and a Mandarin speaker.

Understanding Teacher Eases Language Barrier

Worried parents wanted to make sure their children would have an easy transition. They met with Lui for orientation in the morning. The Parks wanted to know if their daughter should use her Korean name, Sue-Un, or her Western name, Sara.

“I personally think your Korean name is beautiful,” Lui told the 7-year-old in English. The parents seemed satisfied.

And Sue-Un quickly demonstrated her understanding of being in a new country. Later in the day, an older girl from Korea informed Sue-Un that she must call her older classmate “Un-Nyi,” a term of affection and respect. Sue-Un paused pensively, and then said in Korean, “But we are in America!”

Lui encourages the children to keep their original names even if some parents may feel the pressure to “Americanize.” One couple last year asked that their son be called “Michael Jordan” for fear that other kids might make fun of his Chinese name, Lui said, because it is a famous name.

Parental concerns ironed out, Lui began the task of connecting with her students.

A permanent smile etched on her face, she spent the remaining four hours of the day going over basic exercises--simple readings, songs and “what I did this summer” drawings.

It is a very physical task for Lui. Every sentence is followed by gestures.

“It is charades all day,” Lui said. “My husband always asks why I am so tired in the beginning of the year.”

As the day progressed, the little coils of tension began to slowly unwind. Quiet Yasmin struck up a quick friendship with the Kofsky sisters from Russia, Irina, 9, and Valentina, 10. Valentina’s birthday was Thursday and her parents treated the whole class to cupcakes. The “Happy Birthday” song was a little halted, but everybody understood chocolate.

Language is still a barrier, but the students made do the best they could. By lunchtime, names had been memorized and faces had become a little more familiar.

Yuka Fujihara, a spunky 7-year-old, may not understand English very well--asked what her lunch was, she said, “It is cute,” referring to the colorful box that contained her peanut butter and jelly sandwich--but she knows which friends she wants.

As her classmates strolled and played in the remaining minutes of their recess, Yuka approached one of the Russian sisters and said the only word she could muster.

“Valentina,” she said loudly and hugged the taller girl. Valentina gave a sisterly pat to Yuka’s head and together, the two ran toward the playground.