School program guides newcomers who have little formal education
Sara Alfazema, 12, and her older sister Perpetua Alfazema, 14, go to school every day. That doesn’t sound remarkable but, for them, it is.
School breakfast programs, fullday classes and electronic smart boards are all new to the sisters who grew up in Villa de Sena, Mozambique.
There, school was only a half-day because there weren’t enough teachers to run full-day classes. Seventy or 80 pupils were crammed into small classrooms without enough desks and chairs, said their adoptive mother. They often missed school to work on the farm so the family had food to eat. Their father was sick.
“When they came here, they were just very amazed,” their mom, also named Perpetua Alfazema, said Tuesday.
It’s students like the Alfazema sisters that prompted Edmonton Catholic Schools, 15 years ago, to start district newcomer programs in junior high and high school. They are places for kids who not only have sparse English skills but have experienced little formal schooling.
The junior high class for students in grades 7 to 9 is at St. Alphonsus Catholic Elementary/Junior High School, a year-round school where about one-quarter of the 460 students are English-language learners, and dozens more identify as Indigenous.
St. Joseph Catholic High School hosts the older teens with precarious educational experience.
Sandra-Jane Savrtka and Vlad Hyzhyi — immigrants themselves — co-teach this year’s junior high class of 24 wide-eyed preteens and teens.
“They are pure love,” Savrtka says of her pupils.
The teachers’ challenge is to guide students through Alberta’s junior high curriculum while teaching them both conversational and academic English vocabulary, and imparting the basic expectations of a Canadian school.
They have to learn to walk quietly in the hallway, to say, “Good morning,” to raise their hands and take turns speaking, and the staff make sure they have what they need for school, including meals and school supplies.
When they arrive, Savrtka explains expectations about personal hygiene, and intervenes if kids are hitting — aggression may be how they protected themselves in a refugee camp.
Savrtka and Hyzhyi use communication strategies like pictures, actions and recruiting other students who speak the same language but understand more English.
“Look at those faces. When they smile, you know that you’ve reached them,” Savrtka said.
The students’ enthusiasm for learning is unmatched, Hyzhyi said. They groan when they find out a long weekend is coming. For some who are extra driven, their English reading levels can skyrocket within a year, he said.
In addition to three grown biological children, Alfazema and her husband adopted four other orphaned children and youths who are their biological nieces and nephews. After clearing the bureaucratic hurdles of an international adoption, the youths — now 12, 14, 15, and 18 — moved to Edmonton in July.
In Mozambique, Sara and Perpetua had made it to Grades 3 and 4, respectively. They speak an African dialect of Portuguese and had no exposure to English before the adoption process began, their mom said.
In addition to foreign languages, there is culture shock, she said. The food is strange — they were mystified by macaroni and cheese — and they’re homesick.
Coming to a class full of children experiencing those same, massive changes, is a relief.
“My kids, they don’t feel like they’re the only ones.”
The stress of change is usually overshadowed by their excitement. On the first day of school, the girls proudly held up their new bus passes as the grinning bus driver pulled up.
Alfazema wants them to be prepared so they can ultimately join typical classrooms and have the best possible future.
Savrtka said some children in class are also dealing with traumatic experiences. Students have matter-of-factly recounted watching their family members killed and assaulted, and the best she can do is listen.
However, both teachers say students’ families have embraced them. They invite them over for dinner and to their churches for special events.
Older students come back to visit the classroom, Hyzhyi said, ready with a hug and anxious to update them in their much-improved English.
“I feel like this is my life, and my family,” he said.
Look at those faces. When they smile, you know that you’ve reached them.