Few things bring me greater pleasure than getting to know people from other cultures. Well, eating food prepared by people from other cultures is in close rivalry. And I was lucky enough to do both last Thursday!
I have been teaching English as a Second Language on and off the last several years with a non-profit called Wisdom 31. This past school year I was privileged to spend two hours a week with adult students who come from Mexico, El Salvador, the Dominican Relublic, Honduras, and China! And as the tradition goes, on our last day of class, before summer break, we end early and eat a pot-luck lunch together with all the other classes. And boy-oh-boy! No one leaves hungry! Can I tell you how cool it is to see an entire table full of mostly Latin American food but none of it looks like Taco Bell? My only complaint this year is that no one brought any mangu (mashed plantains with cheese). However, the chicken-filled corn tortillas with guacamole and the homemade salsa with baby shrimp more than compensated. And everyone raved about Quadria's Iranian rice, who replied with a shy smile and quiet "thank you."
More fulfilling than any meal is the opportunity to learn about these brave and hard-working immigrants. I sat next to Wenru, our only Chinese student, who patiently and sweetly brings along her aged husband--who speaks not a word of English and has dementia. I listened to her talk about her children, her Chinese-American church, and her love for God. I've heard stories from my Colombian friend who had to flee her home country and comfortable lifestyle when her husband's life was threatened and who now works long hours at a little grocery store he opened in Reading. I've listened to stories from my Mexican friend who took a dangerous risk with her mother when they crossed the border when she was only twelve years old and then how their church lent her mother money to help bring her younger siblings over. All the mothers have stories to share about their children, many who have hopes for college; some of these mothers have plans for higher education themselves. Most work low-paying jobs at the factories or bus tables at a local restaurant or spend their days cooking and caring for children.
Life is not easy for the immigrant. It never has been. I'm certain that when my English, German, and Irish ancestors came over from Europe they also worked long hours with little pay. They surely struggled to find housing, feed and educate their children, and battle homesickness. I would like to believe that those who had come before them welcomed my ancestors into their communitites, taught them English (well, to the German speakers anyway), invited them to their churches, and overall accepted them as "brothers and sisters."
This is the kind of work that Wisdom 31 does. It offers English and citizenship classes, but just as importantly, friendship and a place to connect within the Reading community. It brings together people of various nations and reminds us that we are all connected, that what we have in common is more than what differentiates us. It reminds me that the human spirit desires the same things... A place to belong, a space to make a contribution (whether through work or child-rearing or volunteerism), adequate food and shelter, opportunties for the next generation, and love and friendship.
I only hope we can always be a nation that welcomes the immigrant (and expands our tastebuds), remembering that all of us are descendants of another land.
