“Tashakor”
I hear this almost every Saturday from Saamiya*, my mentee, in her native Pashto language, thanking me for visiting. Hearing her gratitude brings me warmth, but also remorse as I drive back to my privileged life, wishing I could do more.
I met Saamiya in 2015, at the peak of the European refugee crisis, when I decided I couldn’t just sit idly by and become a refugee youth mentor. Saamiya is a 7-year-old girl from Afghanistan with five(!) brothers. As you can imagine, she deals with a lot from chasing after her older brothers, dealing with her rambunctious baby brother and, on top of everything, growing up as a refugee in a foreign country. When we first met, it had only been months since she moved to Chicago and we needed a translator. …show more content…
Since she wasn’t getting individualized teaching or attention at school, I felt an obligation to step up. Outside of spending time with her on weekends, I would research ESL teaching methods, and scour through old lesson plans from college in my free time. Rather than communicating entirely through words, I harnessed the power of drawing and arts-and-crafts to connect with Saamiya. Slowly, I see progress, not only in her mastery of the alphabet, but in her motivation to learn and speak English. Saamiya describes to me what she did in school or the plot of the Afghani movie her brothers are watching. I quickly learned that this was also a commitment to her family. I often stay longer to help her father with his night-class homework, sort and attempt to translate the family’s mail, and even taught her parents how to use a thermometer when Saamiya was feeling ill. I often drive home, feeling the weight of their burdens and how little I’m able to help. But, I keep trying. I’m dedicated to this family and am honored by how much they’ve integrated me into their lives and even their FaceTimes with family back
I hear this almost every Saturday from Saamiya*, my mentee, in her native Pashto language, thanking me for visiting. Hearing her gratitude brings me warmth, but also remorse as I drive back to my privileged life, wishing I could do more.
I met Saamiya in 2015, at the peak of the European refugee crisis, when I decided I couldn’t just sit idly by and become a refugee youth mentor. Saamiya is a 7-year-old girl from Afghanistan with five(!) brothers. As you can imagine, she deals with a lot from chasing after her older brothers, dealing with her rambunctious baby brother and, on top of everything, growing up as a refugee in a foreign country. When we first met, it had only been months since she moved to Chicago and we needed a translator. …show more content…
Since she wasn’t getting individualized teaching or attention at school, I felt an obligation to step up. Outside of spending time with her on weekends, I would research ESL teaching methods, and scour through old lesson plans from college in my free time. Rather than communicating entirely through words, I harnessed the power of drawing and arts-and-crafts to connect with Saamiya. Slowly, I see progress, not only in her mastery of the alphabet, but in her motivation to learn and speak English. Saamiya describes to me what she did in school or the plot of the Afghani movie her brothers are watching. I quickly learned that this was also a commitment to her family. I often stay longer to help her father with his night-class homework, sort and attempt to translate the family’s mail, and even taught her parents how to use a thermometer when Saamiya was feeling ill. I often drive home, feeling the weight of their burdens and how little I’m able to help. But, I keep trying. I’m dedicated to this family and am honored by how much they’ve integrated me into their lives and even their FaceTimes with family back