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Photo by Jen Roberts
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Photo by Jen Roberts
In Zoe Childress’ first-hour class, she has students from Syria, Iraq, Congo, Eritrea, Honduras, Somali, Rwanda, Guatemala, Nepal, Mexico, Afghanistan, Ethiopia, and El Salvador.
“It makes class much richer,” she says.
Childress has worked as an art and English to Speakers of Other Languages (ESOL) teacher at Nahed Chapman New American Academy since the school opened in 2009. The school provides intensive language instruction and serves as an introduction to the U.S. culture and school system for refugee and immigrant students in their first two years in St. Louis.
“Even though they are coming from different countries, they have a lot of shared experiences,” Childress says, as she points to the colorful weavings that hang above us when I visit her classroom for an interview. She explains that her students were excited for this unit because many of them had family members who weave. “I use art to create a community among the students.”
Photo by Jen Roberts
Teaching art to refugees is rewarding, but it’s not without challenges.
“They don’t have much experience,” Childress admits. “Art, in many of their countries, was more of a playtime [activity], so they don’t have a lot of background knowledge. Since they don’t have a lot of positive experiences in art, getting them to feel comfortable can be difficult. They’re often nervous about whether or not they will be successful.”
Language is also a barrier, so Childress teaches relevant vocabulary words before each unit. In a recent lesson on batik—a method of dyeing cloth using a wax-resist technique—she used video to introduce words such as "wax" and "fabric" to the students.
Since most of the current students attending NCNAA are refugees, they have vastly different degrees of schooling.
“Some of the students have an academic background, so they pick up English right away," Childress says. "Others are illiterate in their home language, so they’re learning to read for the first time.” Even if they have studied English, it was often a class taught in a refugee camp or by a non-native speaker, so their abilities vary significantly.
The transition to life in the U.S. is full of ups and downs. Childress says, “When they first come, they are excited because they’ve been waiting two or more years or sometimes their entire life to get accepted into the United States.” This excitement can quickly wear off as refugees only receive a few months of support, and parents sometimes struggle to find jobs. “They’re struggling to have their basic needs met.”
Childress has a student who supports his family. "He’s 19, works all night, and he still shows up to school everyday," she says. "He’s a very good student. He tries to stay awake, but sometimes he falls asleep.” She adds, “He’s willing to work harder than I think I ever was.”
Childress explains, “The students are living in a culture they don’t understand, and they’re attending school with students from so many other cultures. They’re struggling to understand the school's expectations and the cultural differences among each other.”
Even the results of the election required extra conversations. The Wednesday after the election, Childress had to teach an impromptu lesson on the branches of government because her students were scared. “Most of the students are coming from governments where a change of regime can mean terrible things, so I think that was a lot of their fear," she says. "They hear things, and they don’t know what media to believe.”
The students attend NCNAA during their first two years in St. Louis, a difficult period for many students struggling to acclimate to their new home. “But we still hear the good stories," she says. "The students come back to visit us.”
A former student recently came back to the school to share the good news that he now has a job, is in college, and is recently engaged.
Photo by Jen Roberts
Childress wishes others could see the types of experiences she shares with her students. “There are a lot of misconceptions about the Syrian refugees. They are not the image that has been painted of them in them in the media. They are kind and loving people. They just want to have a good life and something happened in their country that took that possibility away from them. They’re just trying to do whatever they can to have a good life here.”
Childress gets up and walks over to her desk. She points at the drawings she has taped to the side. “They don’t have money to buy presents, so they make little drawings for me," she says. "They write me thank you notes and go to the dollar store to buy these sweet little gifts. It’s so meaningful.”
Childress pauses, reflecting on her work. “The stories I hear—it can be really hard some days. When you’re being creative, that’s when the hard stuff comes out.”
“But,” she continues, “they finally feel safe, and they love school. That’s why I’m so happy to be here. They make me feel grateful for everything I have.”
“And,” she adds, “they make really beautiful art.”
