ESL kids, school assemblies, and hospital visits

You have to give kindergarten students credit for one thing: In whole-school assemblies, they are generally the best behaved out of all the students. There are two reasons: 1. They always sit at the front, closest to the presenters and the principals. 2. They are often the most genuinely curious about what is being said. But that second point changes when the kids are English language learners. For ESL (English second language) junior kindergarten students, assemblies are mostly just gibberish. My ESL students have always tuned-out assemblies and just made their own entertainment for 20 or 30 minutes. During one assembly I saw one of my ESL JK students going down the row of our class, rolling up everyone’s sleeves at the wrists. Another time I turned around to see one of my ESL JK students sitting still and looking calm and attentive, the only problem was that he was sitting in the middle of a fifth-grade class, 4 rows back from our group.

Kindergarten is so much harder for ESL students. Their brains have to work ten times harder. I spent a year in a French speaking convent and the first six months were terribly frustrating. It was hard to be part of a group but not know what was being said, especially when people looked right at me while they were speaking. All kindergarten educators should be mindful of how hard the school experience is for ESL students.

One of my ESL students often showed up to school looking very downcast. She clearly wasn’t loving the school experience. I could see that she was a fun person and a leader. But she couldn’t communicate orally. So, she was often very sad at school. When her mother dropped her off, she would walk into the yard and stand by herself, looking at the ground. So, I would get a soccer ball and kick it gently at her feet. Without looking up, she would kick it back to me. We kicked it back and forth for a few minutes until she cracked a small smile.

One day we had a particularly exhausting school assembly. I sat in the middle of our row and had to maintain constant vigilance, looking from side to side to see who was talking, who was grabbing or hitting someone else, who was playing with plasticine from home, and who was slowly inching their way back to the grade 5s. I found the whole experience draining. And our morning routine was thrown off. By lunch recess I was short tempered and found myself being harsh with the kids. I realized that I was in a bad state of mind. So, I took some deep breaths and walked over to a less busy part of the yard to try to calm down. Suddenly, the little ESL girl with whom I liked to play soccer was standing at my side, reaching her hand up to mine. She said, “hand?” I put my hand in hers and we walked around the yard for the rest of the recess. I still had to break up fights and make kids share the toy cars, but it all seemed lighter, and it was easier to be kind to the kids while my little friend held my hand.  

It reminded me of an experience that I had while I was in the religious order. In my first year, my director encouraged the first-year guys to find volunteering opportunities in the city. We had to show that we were willing to work and contribute to society. I got involved with a few things, and I ended up meeting a chaplain who invited me to volunteer at a large hospital. The chaplain needed people to go around to the Catholic patients to tell them about chaplaincy services. There was Catholic Mass in the hospital chapel every day. And the priest could come and do the anointing of the sick if people wanted. I was also supposed to offer to pray with people and bring them Holy Communion if they wanted. I got a name tag, a parking pass, and a key that would open like 2 or 3 doors, and I became an official provincial health services volunteer. For the next couple of months (before I was shipped overseas for the next stage of formation) I went to the hospital a few days a week and visited Catholic patients. Almost all of them were surprised by my visits. They hadn’t asked to be visited by chaplaincy services. They had simply checked the “Catholic” box on the religion section of their admittance form. But I was very respectful and polite. (I had been an excellent salesman in my previous career) So, I do not think that I offended anyone. I simply explained who I was and what I was offering, and most people gave me a very polite “No, thank you”. But many people welcomed me, and I had many deep conversations. Some people stayed in touch for years after. I was amazed at how open and reflective people can be when they are in a vulnerable state.

What does this have to do with my little ESL friend? Well, at one point, I experienced some burnout from cold-calling hospital patients all day. I was very much aware of how intrusive and borderline rude it was. And some of the conversations were heavy. There were so many sick, lonely, and sad people. While talking to one guy, he heaved a heavy sigh and said, “It’s just nice to have someone to talk to.” Another guy, on my second visit, asked me for medical advice. He said, “I trust you entirely.” I told him to listen to his doctor! Anyway, one day I was just worn out. I felt like I was on the verge of tears, for no reason at all. I should have stayed home at the convent. But I went into the hospital anyway. The first person to welcome me in was a woman in her late 70s. I don’t know what she was in for. It was not my business to ask. But she seemed like she had been in the hospital for a while. I had talked to sad elderly ladies before. But this lady seemed to be at peace. She was happy to have a visitor, but not because she was desperate for one. She just seemed like a nice lady who liked people. She asked me about who I was and what I was doing. We talked about my faith journey, and she seemed to have her own spiritual life, but didn’t need to gush about it. At a certain point in our conversation, I realized that she ministering to me, and not the other way around. She made me feel normal. She made me feel lovable, even if I wasn’t saving the world. I went to that hospital to help people. But I was the one getting helped. It was like with my little ESL friend. I am the teacher and am supposed to be helping her. But when she held my hand, she was the one helping me.

After my visit with the elderly lady, I sought out some familiar patients and then called it quits early. I was a volunteer. And I didn’t think I should try to be anything special for anyone that day.

But I didn’t feel guilty about my conversation with the elderly lady. That is life. Sometimes you help someone. Sometimes someone helps you. Sure, she helped me a lot on that day. But I got the sense that she was happy to help, as if it allowed her to feel normal again. I think that she saw someone who needed motherly love that day, and it probably felt good for her to fulfill that need. I lost my mother when I was 16. So, motherly love came rarely in my adult life. I guess I didn’t realize how much I needed it until that day.

I had been working on this post for a few days and was going to publish it today, regardless. But today happens to be Mother’s Day. So, I am glad to share that story today.