Adina and Coby "Germs"

Adina and Coby germs?


Last night brought back the vivid memories of welcoming non-English speaking immigrants to my classroom when I was a first grader. It could not have been “welcoming” from their perspective. We looked at Boris (name changed) as an exceedingly tall freak who couldn’t speak our language. We branded Shira (name changed) immediately with her own “germs.” Not as bad as those of Jason (name changed), undisputably the class dogpile. Bug getting “Shira germs” would not make you happy.

It took Boris and Shira years to emerge from their stigmatized status – and until they spoke English well. Until they looked the part of Americans. Said goodbye to the Russian sweaters. Until they separated enough from their parental culture to fit into ours. Thank God they don’t seem to have been scarred by the experience, but who am I to know?

Back to last night. Moments of realization that Coby and Adina are now Boris and Shira. Adina walks into her class Chanukah party and is greeted by 2 persistent nemises as an American figure doll, to be touched and played with at will. She knows what she wants to say to them, but cannot say it in Hebrew. Later, the kids sit on the floor, buzzing around each other during the lighting of the candles. Except no one is buzzing around Adina, and she’s not buzzing around the others. She sits alone, amongst the pile of children, in her own world. She can’t yet quite manipulate the finger food of her new world.

I was sad. My child was alone. And there wasn’t anything I could really do about it, except wish away the rest of the tekes, ceremony.

At the same moment, I stood in awe of her. Here she was bearing by herself the weight of our move. Day after day – 5 ½ hours one day, 8 hours the next. Hour after hour, with little letup. Thrown into the language, into the culture, without yet knowing them. Me – I engage them at my will, and then return when I want to my English cocoon.

I have never and will never do something as difficult as she and Coby are doing now. I told Adina so, as I rested the seat belt around her tired body. “I am so proud of you.”

Coby bears the weight a bit more easily – thanks to youth; his blessedly naïve, pre-elementary disposition; and the relative pressurelessness of the gan environment. But it’s still an enormous weight.

I hope there are no Adina and Coby “germs” in their classes. I have my doubts, no matter the upbeat evaluations of their teachers. Who can follow the nuances of childhood interchange with 36 or 37 kids in the classroom?

Adina and Coby germs?