Can anyone take a quick look? Be harsh.
Posted: Fri Jan 15, 2010 9:14 pm
I'd love any opinions.
With mouse in hand I slowly circle the mouse pad as Marguerite, a fifty year-old immigrant from Cape Verde, watches. Together we watch new windows open as I clicked icons. Together we watch words appear on the screen as I type letters on the keyboard.
When I signed up to volunteer in an English and computer skills class at the International Institute of Boston I didn’t quite realize just how basic some of the skills I would be teaching were. But after my volunteering experience it became obvious that I wanted to continue helping immigrants and refugees on a more personal level. Returning to the IIB as an intern the following year, I saw the paperwork side of the immigration process as well as the difficulties that come with navigating the immigration system.
As an educated, English speaking American these things were difficult enough for me to comprehend. Forms and instruction sheets often left me confused. I was, indeed, happy that I did not have to sort out my own immigration status. I was beginning to understand some of the difficulties encountered in immigration’s legal side that, in turn, led to the realization that many immigrants had need for direct and personal help.
As a member of the first generation of “computer-literate-students,” I felt prepared to explain the Internet and its uses. I approached this expecting the Internet to be the most difficult aspect of the computer class for most students. It came to me as a complete surprise when it was the very physical features of the computer that were the first problems for many--the “mouse” and the simple process of gliding it across the mouse pad, the click of cursor on an icon. Having grown up with the computer, these movements are, for me, as fluent as walking. Not so for my students who, coming from Eritrea, Bolivia and Egypt, found these initial barriers they needed to overcome. Once mastered – the mouse and the cursor – new barriers presented themselves: the search engine, changing a font.
Let us not forget Marguerite. Eventually she was able to take the mouse in her own hand and begin using some basic computer applications. She learned to use Google and YouTube. However, as a result of our more personal relationship I learned that, even more important than learning computer skills and mastering the English language, was her need to solve her legal immigration status and to be able to navigate the immigration system on her own.
Another student, Michali, an Eritrean boy my age, was one of the students I also helped solve the mystery of the mouse and set up an email account. As I helped him enter his chosen screen name and password on the Yahoo! homepage, Michali looked the happiest I had ever seen him. His life in Eritrea had never given him the opportunity to use a computer, no less the Internet. Now, in the United States, he has access to the entire world! Seeing the excitement that a simple email address brought to Michali made me recognize just one of the things that I take so for granted on a daily basis. Working with these immigrants and refugees at IIB has made me infinitely aware of just how difficult adjusting to life in the United States can be.
Marguerite, Michali, and I were at the International Institute of Boston for drastically different reasons. They were fighting to stay in this country. I was simply tying to help fill some of my free time. At the end of my few months of interning Marguerite and Michali were steps closer to understanding and solving their immigration status, and I – inadvertently - was a step closer to understanding where I would choose to focus my life.
I can’t say exactly why immigration law is such a draw to me – but I do know that it has something to do with seeing the happiness and appreciation on the faces of Marguerite and Michali as I helped them click on a computer or log into their email account for the first time. It also might just be that thanks to this eye opening internship at IIB I have been able to see how lucky I am to be an American and help others in seeking the same privilege.
With mouse in hand I slowly circle the mouse pad as Marguerite, a fifty year-old immigrant from Cape Verde, watches. Together we watch new windows open as I clicked icons. Together we watch words appear on the screen as I type letters on the keyboard.
When I signed up to volunteer in an English and computer skills class at the International Institute of Boston I didn’t quite realize just how basic some of the skills I would be teaching were. But after my volunteering experience it became obvious that I wanted to continue helping immigrants and refugees on a more personal level. Returning to the IIB as an intern the following year, I saw the paperwork side of the immigration process as well as the difficulties that come with navigating the immigration system.
As an educated, English speaking American these things were difficult enough for me to comprehend. Forms and instruction sheets often left me confused. I was, indeed, happy that I did not have to sort out my own immigration status. I was beginning to understand some of the difficulties encountered in immigration’s legal side that, in turn, led to the realization that many immigrants had need for direct and personal help.
As a member of the first generation of “computer-literate-students,” I felt prepared to explain the Internet and its uses. I approached this expecting the Internet to be the most difficult aspect of the computer class for most students. It came to me as a complete surprise when it was the very physical features of the computer that were the first problems for many--the “mouse” and the simple process of gliding it across the mouse pad, the click of cursor on an icon. Having grown up with the computer, these movements are, for me, as fluent as walking. Not so for my students who, coming from Eritrea, Bolivia and Egypt, found these initial barriers they needed to overcome. Once mastered – the mouse and the cursor – new barriers presented themselves: the search engine, changing a font.
Let us not forget Marguerite. Eventually she was able to take the mouse in her own hand and begin using some basic computer applications. She learned to use Google and YouTube. However, as a result of our more personal relationship I learned that, even more important than learning computer skills and mastering the English language, was her need to solve her legal immigration status and to be able to navigate the immigration system on her own.
Another student, Michali, an Eritrean boy my age, was one of the students I also helped solve the mystery of the mouse and set up an email account. As I helped him enter his chosen screen name and password on the Yahoo! homepage, Michali looked the happiest I had ever seen him. His life in Eritrea had never given him the opportunity to use a computer, no less the Internet. Now, in the United States, he has access to the entire world! Seeing the excitement that a simple email address brought to Michali made me recognize just one of the things that I take so for granted on a daily basis. Working with these immigrants and refugees at IIB has made me infinitely aware of just how difficult adjusting to life in the United States can be.
Marguerite, Michali, and I were at the International Institute of Boston for drastically different reasons. They were fighting to stay in this country. I was simply tying to help fill some of my free time. At the end of my few months of interning Marguerite and Michali were steps closer to understanding and solving their immigration status, and I – inadvertently - was a step closer to understanding where I would choose to focus my life.
I can’t say exactly why immigration law is such a draw to me – but I do know that it has something to do with seeing the happiness and appreciation on the faces of Marguerite and Michali as I helped them click on a computer or log into their email account for the first time. It also might just be that thanks to this eye opening internship at IIB I have been able to see how lucky I am to be an American and help others in seeking the same privilege.