Thread: Assimilation article from USA Today

The danger of generalizing about backward Somali Bantus becomes apparent when Moktar Mohammed walks into the room with an easy "How you doin'?"


USA TODAY
Moktar

He is wearing pristine white warm-ups and tennis shoes and a crisp new Red Sox baseball hat cocked at a rakish angle. He holds car keys in one hand, a cellphone in the other. The latter rings incessantly — calls from non-English-speaking Bantu asking him to interpret at a medical appointment or explain a welfare regulation.

"They are having a tough time because they don't speak the language," he says. "If you say, 'Turn left,' they don't understand. I try to help them, but I'm very busy."

Unlike many Bantus, Moktar, 23, grew up in a town that had some electricity, indoor plumbing and motor vehicles. He learned to read and write in his native dialect. His father was a carpenter, not a subsistence farmer.

After fleeing to Kenya, Moktar learned English working in a restaurant in Nairobi. When he was moved to a refugee camp, he worked as a health care aide with two humanitarian agencies.

Now he lives in Springfield, Mass., and has a job at a facility for the disabled where he supervises eight other workers and makes $11.85 an hour. He is studying for his GED and plans to go to college and buy a house — once he finishes saving a $20,000 down payment.

Mohammed and Timiro Hassan

When 7-month-old Hassan developed an ear infection, a doctor prescribed an oral antibiotic. But his parents, unable to read their own language, let alone English, poured the pink liquid into his ear.


Springfield Union-News
Mohammed

Mohammed Hassan and his wife, Timiro, both 33, often feel like fish out of water in Springfield, Mass. Mohammed quit his night-shift job at a doughnut factory even though his eligibility for a welfare check will expire in a few months. He wrecked his van and hurt his back after skidding on an unfamiliar surface — ice — and smashing into a highway barrier.

Mohammed and his family temporarily lost their welfare benefits, including food stamps, because they could not read forms the state mailed them and threw them out.

Despite weekly tutoring, Timiro says she can't remember anything to say in English. Despite being in school for more than a year, the three oldest sons come home with Spanish words instead of English. That's what their classmates speak, and their English classes are taught in Spanish by teachers who don't know Somali.

Now, with the welfare cutoff looming, Mohammed says his back injury prevents him from looking for work or attending English classes. Still, he says he likes life in America, except for one thing — no camel milk.

Sheknor and Sahra Juma

It has taken the community of Springfield, Mass., to resettle Sheknor Juma, his wife, Sahra, and their children.


Josh T. Reynolds
Sheknor

Sheknor, 30, was unemployed for months last year after abruptly quitting a promising job with a fence-maker. He lost a second job after his boss said that he forgot to close the windows before sending vehicles through the car wash.

He got a third job and, when his van broke down, bought another car on the spot so he could get to work that night.

But this Muslim family has been saved from greater heartbreak by a team of volunteers from a synagogue, Sinai Temple in Springfield.

The volunteers have helped the family shop; taken them to appointments; settled the children in school and sent them to summer camp; loaned Sheknor a car for his license road test; collected food, clothes and furniture; and, when money was short, paid the rent and the oil bill.

They've tutored and befriended Sahra, who doesn't drive and spends most of her time home alone with the children.

"We're always trying to understand her better," says Janelle Sorell, a volunteer who drops by the family's apartment an afternoon a week. "How is she feeling? Is she discouraged? What does she need? She's so isolated."

After the couple's eighth child was born in May, Sorell visited Sahra in the hospital. When she entered the room, she saw a tag on the bassinet with the baby's name: Janelle.

After the couple's eighth child was born in May, Sorell visited Sahra in the hospital. When she entered the room, she saw a tag on the bassinet with the baby's name: Janelle

How touching.

Originally Posted by LegalUSCitizen

After the couple's eighth child was born in May, Sorell visited Sahra in the hospital. When she entered the room, she saw a tag on the bassinet with the baby's name: Janelle

How touching.

Yep, thought you'd like that.....I'm sure glad someone explained Halloween to them!!!