On a rainy afternoon in September, just a few days after arriving in the United States, Ahu Thang sits in a plastic chair next to Chesterfield County schools ESL intake liaison Lisa Thompson, as she points to a drawing of an Asian girl setting a table. "Point to the glass," she says. "Show me the window. How many chairs do you see?"

Although he maintains an upright posture and a positive expression, Ahu seems lost. Earlier, the 15-year-old rushed through the alphabet, prompting Thompson to tell him, “Whoa! Slow down! You’re too fast.” That was an encouraging sign, Thompson says, because some kids she sees don’t know that much English. He also knows fractions, addition and subtraction, and he can do multiplication with some help. 

Short words are readable — he gets “me,” “not” and “book” correct, but “go” becomes “good,” and “like” becomes “kill.” 

All non-native English-speaking students in Chesterfield’s school system come through this trailer at Falling Creek Elementary School before attending their home school, and Ahu is no exception. 

There’s no doubt that he belongs in ESL I, the level below his brother, Thompson notes. He’ll have to be able to read sentences in English to progress further. With luck and hard work, he’ll get to level two by next fall.

Learning the Ropes

September was a month of firsts for Ahu, who arrived in Richmond on Sept. 19 from a refugee camp in Malaysia. He quickly acquired a taste for American food — chicken pot pie went down just fine on his first evening in his new home, and he ordered chicken fingers, fries and a soda at McDonald’s on the drive from the airport. It was his first visit to the fast-food restaurant.

And he hasn’t skipped a beat when it comes to American fashion. Unlike his preppier brother, 18-year-old Aung Naing, Ahu favors oversized hoodies, thick-soled sneakers and jeans. He’s discovered hair products, too. 

Starting school was perhaps a little more challenging, but like Aung, Ahu is a motivated student. A ninth-grader at L.C. Bird High, he’s signed up for shop class and algebra, but life is different in the ESL universe than it is for most freshmen.

For one thing, Ahu spends most of his time with the same few students, in classes much smaller than the norm. His ESL reading class, taught by Ana Cios, has just four boys — two Joses who speak Spanish; Ming-Jae, who is Korean; and Ahu, who speaks Chin, a Myanmar dialect. 

Cios, a warm presence who rewards good work with a piece of chocolate candy, points to pictures of “gym,” “library,” “hall” and “cafeteria” in a textbook, as the boys repeat after her. Teachers of ESL I students rely heavily on repetition and visuals, using symbols even the newest students can understand.

After writing words on a white dry-erase board, Cios takes the four boys on a walk through the school, asking them the words for various rooms and features — a water fountain, a library, a locker. Ahu points to a fire extinguisher and asks what it is. 

He is learning quickly, Cios and his other teachers say, and it’s clear he’s made progress since that afternoon in the ESL trailer a week earlier. 

Aung, who attended J.R. Tucker High School in Henrico County after arriving in Richmond in September 2007, is in ESL II, a rowdier yet academically challenging atmosphere. He joins about a dozen students, most of them native Spanish speakers, in class. They have to write a short journal entry about a trip they’ve taken — “I know all of you have taken a trip before,” says Alysse Cullinan, the teacher. 

One of two petite Colombian sisters in the class sits next to Aung, asking him in a whisper about singular and plural verbs. Cullinan, dealing also with two boisterous boys in the front row, shushes the students. After 20 minutes, the students set down their pencils, and Cullinan asks for volunteers to read aloud. 

Aung races through his essay, a simplified version of his journey from Myanmar to Malaysia to the United States. Then students are dismissed for a 25-minute lunch, which occurs mid-period. Aung looks around for Ahu, whose lunch period aligns with his brother’s on Tuesdays and Thursdays. But the rest of the week, they eat at different times, and today is Wednesday.

Aung picks up a greasy slice of pepperoni pizza and a cup of boardwalk fries; finding a seat at the end of a table, he starts to eat quickly, sitting apart from other students. His ESL classmates eat in the other lunchroom, he says, and they speak Spanish during lunch, leaving him out of the conversation. “They talk too much,” Aung complains. 

In his cafeteria, jocks with letter jackets sit together, a couple of nerdier guys play rock-paper-scissors, and a long table of African-American girls, many wearing cropped denim jackets, eat and gossip. Bird’s mix is fairly diverse, with Latinos, African-Americans and whites sitting together. But there are only two Chin speakers at the moment: Ahu and Aung. 

The bell sounds for class, and Aung — in a yellow button-down shirt and light-wash jeans — walks briskly back toward class, catching up in the hall with Milena, the Colombian girl who sits next to him. Cullinen addresses her restless class, asking them if they remember what the writing process is. She answers her own question: pre-writing, writing, edit/rewrite, publish. “What’s the point of the peer edit?” she asks. There’s no answer, just muffled chatter among the students, who seem distracted after lunch.

Cullinen tells the boys in the front row to stay after class, but Aung and the others are free to go at the bell.  

Motivated Learners

Janey Neff, the boys’ foster mother, worries about the social side of their time in school — Ahu also tends to sit by himself at lunch on the days he can’t eat with Aung. But their church appears to be filling in some of the gaps with a strong youth program, and the Neffs aren’t the type to let opportunities pass for Aung and Ahu — Janey keeps her ears open for athletic groups, particularly volleyball and soccer, sports the brothers enjoy.

Since September, the boys are doing well academically, although Ahu’s having a tough time in his computer class, which is not an ESL course. But he still appears enthusiastic about school, Janey notes, and it’s easier for the family to carry on conversations with him now. Aung’s moving forward in his studies as well, fulfilling Lisa Thompson’s expectations from late summer, when he transferred to Chesterfield from Henrico County’s schools. 

Then, in her trailer, she and Aung talked in very rudimentary terms about the political situation in Myanmar. “He’s a very impressive young man,” Thompson says. As for Ahu, she notes, “He’s very teachable, I think.”

Next month: What it takes for an unaccompanied refugee minor to come here

The Complete Series: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part8, Part9