Beaverton teachers welcome the challenge of schooling Somali immigrants, some of whom have never held books before

BEAVERTON, January 05, 2006 (The Oregonian) – Teacher Kim Miller opens the picture book showing elephants grazing on a dry savanna.

The English-as-a-Second-Language teacher hopes a lesson on African animals will resonate with the five students seated before her, recent arrivals from Somalia.

For Miller, making classroom connections to the children's distant homeland doesn't always meet success. The students, brought to Beaverton by humanitarian groups, are refugees of a civil war that's lasted more than a decade and belong to a group that has been persecuted for generations in Africa.

It's not just that they don't read English; they come from a people who have no tradition of reading at all.

"It's been hard to communicate," says Miller, who's taught for five years at Fir Grove Elementary School. "But, we're learning a lot."

As a growing number of Somali families settle in the Beaverton School District, teachers and administrators find themselves in unknown territory. The children of the Somali newcomers are unlike other English language learners in Beaverton classrooms. Most are members of the Bantu minority group, who are generationally illiterate.

"It's kind of an experiment to have them come here," says Daniel Van Lehman, co-director for the National Somali Bantu Project based at Portland State University. "Here, for folks without an ethnic constituency or an already established community, it's a whole new ballgame. The learning curve is very sharp and long."

Lehman estimates roughly 5,000 Somali refugees live in the Portland area; most of them arrived within the past year and a half. About 300 are Bantus, who were denied education for generations in Africa. Officials estimate that roughly 60 Somali youth are enrolled in Beaverton schools, most at Chehalem and Fir Grove elementary schools.

For educators, the challenge lies in bringing the new students up to speed in reading, writing and math, while teaching them basic social and behavioral skills.

Many of the students are not accustomed to sitting for long periods and are learning basics, such as using scissors and holding a pencil, Miller says.

"They come from a culture with no alphabet or print," she says. "Books don't have the same meaning to our Somali Bantu students."

Building a foundation

When Mohamud Muhina arrived at Fir Grove 18 months ago, school administrators were uncertain of his age.

The child, the first Somali Bantu to enroll at the school, had no birth date other than the one immigration officers gave him, which said he was 10 years old. School administrators, who guessed Muhina was older, placed him in the fifth grade. Muhina had never held a book.

This year, administrators decided to hold Muhina back a year to give him more time to feel stable, says Principal Zan Hess.

"With 1,100 kids in middle school, we felt he was going to get lost real easily," Hess says.

Now, Muhina writes full sentences and has enough English skills to talk about the things he saw in Africa, Miller says.

In class, he excitedly calls out the names of animals he knows: monkeys, owls and parrots.

Next year, Muhina will move on to Highland Park Middle School, although he reads at a first-grade level. Teachers and administrators are faced with a tough task in the coming months, hoping to add after-school tutoring to prepare Muhina for the social and academic complexities of a large middle school.

"We have a lot of work to do," Hess says. "It's a lot of layers to put on a child's shoulders, but if we wait too long, we'll have a 25-year-old in high school. It raises the question of whether you're doing a disservice by graduating a student before they're ready, or if you're holding them back by keeping them."

Africa has lessons, too

For many Beaverton educators, the growing number of Somali Bantu families means cultivating a deeper understanding of the newcomers' culture and customs.

At Chehalem Elementary, Principal Joseph Wyatt works to develop relationships with students and families despite language barriers.

"Some of these kids have been through a lot of trauma," Wyatt says. "What they see here is very, very new to them. The building-a-relationship piece is crucial."

During lunch at Fir Grove, foods that contain pork are labeled with a picture of a pig. Most Somali Bantus are Muslim and do not eat pork.

To better teach her students, Miller sometimes consults a translator about the Maay Maay language, the dialect spoken by most Somali Bantus. The challenge is increased because the language lacks some sounds made in English.

Miller also has connected with educators in Minneapolis, home to another sizable Somali Bantu community.

"I'm constantly learning about Africa," Miller says. "I'm constantly trying to catch up."

Last month, staff members at Fir Grove donated videos, games and books to an apartment complex where many of their Bantu students live.

The hope, says Hess, is to also support students' families so they can participate in their child's academic achievements.

"That's the next horizon," Hess says. "We want parents to be learning too."

Amy Hsuan: 503-294-5954; amyhsuan@news.oregonian.com