Tutors help immigr=
ants
with words - Aurora center has been spreading English literacy for 16 years=
Chicago Tribune (I=
L) - Wednesday, December 8, 2010
Author: Stacy St. Clair, Tribune reporter
On the second floo=
r of
a converted convent, Silvia Zamudio reads the D=
r.
Seuss classic "One Fish Two Fish Red Fish Blue Fish."
She pronounces each word carefully, smiling at both the silly rhymes and her
rapidly improving English. Her 5-year-old daughter enjoys Seuss books at
school, and Zamudio will read this one to her at
bedtime, a new nightly routine.
The mother-daughter ritual would have been impossible if not for the Domini=
can
Literacy Center in Aurora, which has taught immigrant women to read, write =
and
speak English for more than 16 years.
Though Zamudio, who emigrated from Mexico 11 ye=
ars
ago, had taken classes previously, none of the other programs offered the
one-on-one tutoring that allowed her to overcome her fears about learning h=
er
adopted country's language.
"I'm not scared anymore," she says, after finishing the Dr. Seuss
book. "I have confidence to speak English now."
Run by the Dominican Sisters of Springfield, the literacy center is one of
numerous organizations in the Chicago region supported by Chicago Tribune
Holiday Giving, a campaign of Chicago Tribune Charities, a McCormick Founda=
tion
Fund.
More than 180 women received tutoring this year at the center on Aurora's n=
ear
east side. More than 100 remain on a registration waiting list, while anoth=
er
90 are waiting for tutors to become available.
For a $25 annual workbook fee, the students receive weekly one-on-one tutor=
ing
for three years and can participate in group discussion sessions indefinite=
ly.
About 80 percent of the women come from Mexico, and others hail from Russia,
Pakistan, Peru, Haiti and elsewhere.
To make the students comfortable, organizers recruit only female tutors to
oversee the 90-minute sessions each week. The majority of instructors don't
speak a second language, but that matters little because the one-on-one ses=
sions
and larger discussion groups are strictly in English.
The women share the common objective of improving their quality of life in =
the
United States, though each woman has outlined a personal goal. Some want to
find a better job or earn a high school equivalency diploma; others simply =
wish
to talk with their children's doctors or teachers without an interpreter. <=
br>
Zamudio, who has two school-aged daughters and =
an
infant son, signed up for tutoring at the center after her girls began talk=
ing
to each other in English at home. Her inability to understand their
conversations worried her.
"I need to know what is happening in my house," she says. "A
mother needs to know what her children are saying. That's why it's so impor=
tant
for me to learn English."
Zamudio's story is a common one in immigrant ho=
mes,
where the mothers are often the last to learn English. While the children l=
earn
the language at school and the husbands learn on the job, the women often
aren't afforded the same opportunities.
Sister Kathleen Ryan sought to address that disparity when she launched the
literacy program in 1994 with just two folding chairs and a card table in a
church basement.
"The women are the most underserved and the last to be educated,"
Ryan said. "And that's what makes it so difficult. They really want to=
be
full participants in their community and in their children's lives." <=
br>
Rafaela Del Villar had hoped to take English cl=
asses
after emigrating from Mexico two decades ago, but her husband told her it
wasn't necessary because she would learn the language at her factory job. It
never happened. There wasn't time to chatter on the assembly line, and most=
of
her co-workers spoke Spanish anyway.
After her children were born and she became a stay-at-home mother, the
opportunities to learn diminished even further. She avoided places that wou=
ld
require her to speak English.
"Can you believe it?" she asks, as she shakes her head and tears =
well
in her eyes. "For 20 years, I lived like this."
Last year, a friend suggested she take classes at the center, and Del Villar jumped at the opportunity. She has since insti=
tuted
an English-only policy at home with her children and their friends in an ef=
fort
to improve her own language skills.
On a recent Tuesday morning, she met with her tutor for her weekly session.
They could have gone over Del Villar's workbook
assignment or read aloud from a book, but the women decided to simply sit a=
nd
talk to each other in English.
Del Villar's face lit up as she chatted in rapi=
dly
improving English about the upcoming holidays and the cinnamon-apple punch =
--
her specialty -- that she'll bring to her sister's house on Christmas.
"When I learn English, there will be so many things I can do," she
says. "I am so happy here. I am happy to learn English."
As the conversation wraps up, tutor Kathy Updike sees Del Villar's
joy and knows the Dominican sisters are responsible.
"They're saints," she says. "Those women are creating miracl=
es
here."
Please donate now to Chicago Tribune Charities Holiday Giving. Give online =
at
chicagotribune.com/holidaygiving call 800-217-3190, or text CHARITY to 85944 to donate $5
-------------
sstclair@tribune.com
Caption: Photo(s)
Graphic(s)
Photo (color): Sister Ann Clennon, foreground,
conducts an advanced conversation class at Dominican Literacy Center in Aur=
ora
with students Beatriz Rodriguez, from left, Galina She=
ina
and Marilou Mancilla. Chuck
Berman/Tribune photo