I almost want to say that being a newcomer is a language on its own. Regardless of what spoken language you’ve attained, being a newcomer allows you to gain an understanding of a fellow newcomer simply because of the experience of “newcoming“. We leave a place and arrive into a new one, and somehow we are perceived as new or different. Turn the tables for a moment. We, the receivers, are not aware that to these newcomers, we are “new” as well. Just as they need to learn new things in this new place, so must we, about them and their old place.

Allow me to explain.

Picture this:

As we work on making cubes with the 6 universal emotions on all six sides, my high school students and I are talking about the importance of expressing ourselves and our emotions. One of my students looks at a his peer’s cube and, with the biggest smile on his face, says: “that’s so colorful! Did you dip it into a paint can or something?!” My group of about 10 students bursts into laughter. The volunteer in my classroom turns to this student and says: “you are so funny!” I, at this point, am just translating back and forth. He says: “Is that a good thing?”. She says: “Of course! You always make this environment so happy!” He turns to me and says: “I never used to be like this, but one day, my cousin told me, when you die, what will you take with you? Not the sadness. Not the misery. You will only take the happiness and goodness that you spread.” At this point, I am so proud and shocked with the level of maturity that this teen demonstrated.
“Then my cousin died,” he said.

Now tell me, dear person reading this, how would you react in this kind of situation? Do you ask questions? Do you worry about the rest of the students in the class listening to this? Do you change the topic? Do you ignore what you just heard this?… What do you do?

I decided to take off that armor that I had on and to allow my vulnerability to do its work at this point. If this student opened up the topic, that means he already trusted me with it. So, little by little, he unpacked his story right before me, and I could see it so clearly as he described it in the gravest possible detail. It got worse. I resisted stopping him from talking many, many times.

It was difficult to listen to. It was difficult to take it all in. But, if it was difficult for me to listen to, how difficult was it for him to go through it, and talk about it?

And that’s when it hit me; these kids are so ready for us. Perhaps it is we who are not ready for them. They’ve already accepted the challenge of being in a new country, having to learn a new language, having to live a new life, and so many other “new“s.

Fast forward a few weeks afterwards when I have new students. I give my students a Timeline of My Life activity where they may choose any important events from their lives and put them on paper. None of my tens of students who came through the GENTLE Centre had a problem with this. They all loved it. It gave them an opportunity to speak about themselves. All of a sudden, one of my students starts having a meltdown because she wanted nothing to do with her past. She wanted nothing to remind her of horrific trends in her past of being belittled and spoken down to. She was not ready to move on, but she was ready to talk. She was ready to be angry. So we talked.

Rewind a few days, a few weeks, a couple of months. To the student who could not come because they had to stay at home with their younger siblings while their mother went to take care of a few pressing matters. To the student who thought that the problems we deal with today are nothing compared to literally having to dig your way out across the border to a new country. To the fifteen year old student who had to work to help his father from the age of 12, and multiple times, was not compensated for his work, rather he was reported to the police for illegally working in the country that he sought refuge in. To the student whose sibling is captured by a political party back home, whose mother is constantly thinking of him.

But wait. Just a moment.

I also want you to rewind to the student who wants to become a doctor. To the student who wants to become a police officer, a nurse, a personal trainer. To the student who wants to become an interpreter. To the student who, yes missed years of school, but worked as a carpenter, hairdresser, interior designer, plumber… I want you to rewind to the student who knows what hard work is, the student who worked 16 hours a day and came home to help their parents with home chores. Rewind to the student who saw nothing of the war but is traumatized by the fear of it. To the student who lived through the war and has braved through not allowing themselves to feel the pain, yet. To the student who was separated from their family for days, months or years, but finally reunited. To the student who still feels afraid of speaking up because of the fear of being monitored.

What I am trying to say is this:

1. We have no right to make generalizations about these newcomers. They are humans just like us. They have their own stories just like us.
2. Before we jump into judging that these students do not understand certain routines or expectations, let’s make our expectations clear in a language that they understand.
3. Just as we strive to get to know all of our students as individuals without making any assumptions, we must do the same with each and every one of these students.
4. We must make sure that our efforts to be understanding and compassionate don’t come off as us feeling badly for them. That does not empower them. In many instances, that happened to me. My efforts to be positive were taken as me being nice because I felt badly for some students. So, I took some time aside to make it clear that the intention was different.
5. It is very important for us to realize the tremendous effort and courage that it’s taken these students and their families to overcome at least the move to a new country. Transition to high school alone, or transitioning to another school is something that we don’t take lightly. Imagine transitioning to a new country.

 

 

We often hear “welcome to Canada” being said to newcomers, but have we told ourselves, the residents of this country, to welcome this new concept of “newcomer” instead of “refugee” or “immigrant”?

I want to leave you with this:

We talk about students being ready for school, but are we ready for them?

— Najwa Zebian