Latest news with #EnglishforSpeakersofOtherLanguages
Metro
7 days ago
- General
- Metro
'I was 17 when I had my first day of school'
Arriving in the UK all by myself, everything felt so new. The streets were quieter, people looked different to me, and I didn't understand what anyone was saying. For a long time, I didn't feel like I belonged anywhere. I was just 16 and placed into care, living in a few different places. All alone, a lot of the time didn't know what was happening. It felt like I was starting from zero. I'm originally from Eritrea in East Africa, but when I was very young, my family fled to Ethiopia due to religious persecution. I spent most of my childhood playing football with other children in the street, but by the time I was 15, it became unsafe to stay in Ethiopia because of the Tigray war. I had no choice but to leave and came to the UK in September 2024. I was alone and had left behind everything I knew including friends, family, language, culture, and had to figure out how to survive and grow in a place that didn't feel like home. It was the hardest thing I've ever done. Because of my immigration status, I wasn't allowed to attend school at first. That was really difficult for me. I had no routine or structure, and most days felt the same. Thankfully through supported lodgings in Cardiff, I started living with my carers Dave and Rebecca who helped me adjust to the new environment; but even with their help, I still felt isolated and unable to be sociable with people my age. I struggled with a lot of boredom and loneliness. I joined a few ESOL (English for Speakers of Other Languages) classes, which helped a little, but it wasn't enough to feel like I had a purpose. I wanted to do more. I wanted to learn, grow and meet people my age. It was my social worker who told me about the King's Trust and suggested I try their Explore programme, which helps young people build confidence and develop essential life skills through workshops, activities and mentoring; helping people like me move closer to education and employment. At first, I wasn't sure. The programme was held at the King's Trust Centre in Cardiff, and even just turning up for the first time felt like a big step. I didn't know what to expect, and I was really shy. Group settings made me anxious, and I was worried I wouldn't understand what was going on. But something in me said give it a try, and I'm so glad I did. The programme helped me find direction. I learned how to write a CV and practise interview techniques, which would help me get a job one day, but it offered more than practical skills – it gave me a sense of freedom and confidence I hadn't felt in a long time. I remember going gorge walking with a group of other young people and being scared at first, but also excited. I had never done anything like that before. I also travelled on a train for the first time through the programme. They might seem small things, but they meant so much to me. Making friends truly changed my life. For the first time since arriving in the UK, I felt like I had people around me who understood me, even if we didn't all speak the same language. We connected through shared experiences and encouragement. I started to believe that I didn't have to hide or be afraid. Now, everything feels different. I'm going to school full-time and studying six subjects – including English. I'm improving my language skills and love being able to learn. I look forward to going in every day now, to see my classmates, to take part and keep growing. I always wanted to get an education but that wasn't a choice I had. My very first day of school was when I was 17, in Cardiff. I also started playing football with a local team. I've always loved it and I'm a big Arsenal fan. Joining the team has given me space to clear my mind. I've even got to play in a national tournament, which was such a proud moment for me. Today, I'm being honoured with the Delta Air Lines Breakthrough Award from the King's Trust at a big ceremony in London. It's hard to believe, as just over a year ago, I was isolated and unsure about my future and now I'm being recognised for how far I've come. Winning the award gives me hope and reminds me that everything I've gone through has made me stronger. It felt like all the hard days, the fears and the doubts, were worth pushing through. Looking ahead, I want to continue working hard and I have big dreams for my future. I hope to study psychology one day, so that I can support other young people like me who are facing similar challenges. It keeps me focused knowing that my hard work may eventually help someone else. I'd also love to pursue football professionally – it's a big dream, but one I'm willing to chase. More Trending To any young person who feels alone or stuck, I know how hard it can be. I know what it feels like to start over and to wonder if things will ever get better. I want them to know that they are strong than they think and they shouldn't give up because there are people out there who care and can help. You just have to take that first step. I didn't do this alone. I had support from the King's Trust, my foster carers, and the amazing staff who believed in me when I didn't believe in myself. But I also had to show up and try, even when it felt scary. For me, this is just the beginning. Metro is a media partner for the Delta Air Lines Breakthrough Award. You can find out more about the King's Trust here. MORE: King Charles reveals he's a Sugababes fan MORE: Donald Trump's second UK state visit to take place in September MORE: I feel my gayest and most powerful at Glastonbury Your free newsletter guide to the best London has on offer, from drinks deals to restaurant reviews.
Yahoo
11-06-2025
- General
- Yahoo
ESOL Summer Bridge Program to begin in third year helping community
WILLIMANTIC — The English for Speakers of Other Languages Summer Bridge Program kicked off its third year at CT State Community College Quinebaug Valley in Willimantic. The Scripps Family Fund for Education and the Arts funded the program through the Northeast Connecticut Education Foundation. The $40,000 grant covers tuition and educational expenses for students with classes, field trips, tutoring and activities. The 10-week program aims to help improve language skills and prepare students for the fall semester as some transition from ESOL to degree paths at Quinbaug Valley. The past two iterations of the program have data that shows incredible gains, which include a 100% completion rate for those who registered for the 2024 fall semester. 'Summer is a long time to go without hearing and speaking English for many English Language Learner students,' said Elkin Espitia-Loaiza, Quinebaug Valley professor of ESOL and Spanish, Arts and Humanities, and ESOL program coordinator. 'This program has proven to be an effective way to bridge that gap; over the past two years, we have seen students gain the knowledge and confidence they need to excel at their studies. Without the Summer Bridge, many students would not be able to make the leap from ESOL to credit courses.' CT State Quinebaug Valley ESOL student Germán Méndez González, who has been in the program, shared their experience and the opportunities it has provided. 'My time in the Summer Bridge program has given me a chance to progress with my education and have more opportunities as I plan my future,' González said. 'I am grateful for the funds that make this experience possible and for what I have been able to accomplish.' CT State Quinebaug Valley Director of Institutional Advancement Monique Wolanin extended her appreciation to the SFFEA. 'Sincere thanks are due to the Scripps and Linda Marshall for their continued investments and confidence in our students, faculty, and the Northeast Connecticut Education Foundation. Your gift is truly transformative,' Wolanin said. The foundation's mission is to provide scholarships and other financial support to Northeast Connecticut residents who want to pursue higher education.
The National
11-05-2025
- The National
Cycling group setting wheels in motion for women in Scotland
Women On Wheels' Tuesday begins with a morning session for beginners, where riders navigate cones and obstacles, gaining one-to-one advice on how to improve their cycling skills. In the afternoon, another session allows more confident riders to set out on a gentle ride around the surrounding area, through parks or woodland areas, with hills or more challenging terrain. The women attending these sessions are New Scots who have arrived in Scotland from countries including Iran, Nigeria, Tanzania and Ukraine. Some of the women are experiencing cycling as a new hobby, and for others, they are trying to rebuild their lives and navigate an unfamiliar city, looking for connections and routine. The purpose of the sessions is not only to improve riders' skills, but to give the women a better understanding of their local area, improving their confidence to navigate Glasgow. The sessions often cover bike rides in Queen's Park or Kelvingrove, and recently helped one woman build the confidence to cycle from Maryhill all the way to the southside. For some, cultural and religious rules have prevented women from learning to cycle in their home country. Soraya, a young woman from Tanzania, explained how she had cycled as a child before being forced to give it up due to restrictions that prevented women from cycling. She said: 'In my country, as a teenager I had to stop cycling. It is especially difficult as a Muslim and while wearing a headscarf.' Since attending the sessions in Glasgow, she has seen women of different faiths and nationalities take up the activity and says 'cycling now makes me feel free'. Eilidh has run multiple riding sessions with refugees across different charities in Glasgow for almost a decade. She has successfully brought together women from across groups such as Sunny Cycles and Bikes for Refugees, to a space where women are sure to feel welcomed and comfortable. As with many grassroots initiatives, she has hopped from project to project, supporting people until funding has run out. READ MORE: Doctor who grew up in Gaza gives 'emotional' speech at Highlands pro-Palestine march Her informal WhatsApp group chat ''Cycling Sisters' is part of the success of the sessions. This group brings together women from different charities, ensuring that women are never left behind if the funding for projects runs out. Rides and sessions are shared here, as well as photographs and funny videos. Most of the women have heard about the sessions through word of mouth. For many, it is not just a cycling group but a support network, which has allowed them to gain access to more support services in Scotland or even to hear about volunteering and work opportunities. As asylum seekers are not allowed to work, many women are keen to find volunteering jobs that fit around their ESOL (English for Speakers of Other Languages) courses, a college programme that helps refugees to learn English. Women On Wheels helps to put women in contact with other groups and on the most recent Tuesday ride, the session stopped at Urban Roots, a community-led gardening project, where one woman was introduced to volunteering opportunities. The women feel that cycling is not only beneficial for their physical health, but for their mental health and sense of belonging. Edith, from Nigeria, is one of dozens of women who has taken part in the cycling sessions and feels an increased sense of community and friendship since joining. Edith was introduced to Eilidh when she was still living in hotel accommodation in Glasgow and describes the sessions as giving her confidence and happiness in an extremely challenging time. Women On Wheels works closely with the Scottish Refugee Council and will be hosting an event for Refugee Festival Scotland, taking place from June 13-22. Women from across different refugee sessions will be invited to a dinner at the Milk Cafe where they can share delicious food, in keeping with their cultures. For many, hotel food has been unfamiliar and poor, with little opportunity to cook and eat their preferred dishes. In a time of polarised political discourse surrounding refugees and displaced people, Women On Wheels and its refugee sessions are a quiet and powerful network, whose amazing work has mostly gone unnoticed. For the women who take part, these sessions are more than a bike ride. They are a space to grow in confidence, build community and friends and gain a sense of freedom and knowledge about the local area.
Yahoo
18-04-2025
- Politics
- Yahoo
I'm A Teacher. Here's The Shocking Truth About The "Woke" Indoctrination Of Students That Terrifies Conservatives.
I'm a bit of a masochist. I can't help but read the comments whenever the local news posts anything political on social media — especially when it's related to public education. I've spent most of my life building a career as a public educator who emphatically embraces and promotes diversity, equity, and inclusion, and I live in Florida, where public education is very much on the chopping block and our pouty, petulant goblin of a governor has made the classroom the front line of his culture war. In recent years, whenever I read the comment section of these stories, there are scores of MAGA folks screeching in chorus about evil liberal teachers indoctrinating kids with vegan transgender socialism. 'Their [sic] teaching are [sic] kids CRT [critical race theory]!' insists one commenter. 'They want white kids to feel guilty about their race!' cries another. On and on they go — affirming, commiserating and spreading their noxious grievances. And almost none of what they claim is true. Although I'm in public higher education now, I was a public high school teacher for over a decade. I worked at three radically different schools in three radically different counties. Most of my social circle is made up of teachers. If indoctrination were occurring at scale, I'd know about it. It's just not happening. Almost every teacher I've ever met (and that number is in the high hundreds at this point) is exceedingly careful not to discuss politics or religion while at school — even with other adults, even in the relative privacy of the break room, even one-on-one in their own classrooms during lunch or planning. It's a simple matter of self-preservation — if a single student were to hear you say, 'God, I hate Gov. Ron DeSantis,' they'd tell their friends, those friends would pass it on, and by the end of the day, you'd be in the principal's office explaining that no, you do not, in fact, have a 'Fuck DeSantis' tattoo on your chest. There are exceptions, of course. In the 13 years I spent teaching high school, a handful of teachers have been openly political. I was helping a fresh-out-of-college teacher set up his classroom in 2014 when he asked me, 'Can you believe they let these Muslim kids wear their habibs [sic] in class?' This was within 15 minutes of meeting him for the first time. 'I guess the dress code doesn't apply to them. I don't know why we bend the rules for them,' he continued. He had no idea if I was Muslim. He also didn't know if I was an immigrant — even though I'm visibly Hispanic — before he then went on a rant about 'the ESOL kids,' aka students in an English for Speakers of Other Languages program, who were 'probably illegal.' Another teacher I worked with at least had the patience to ratchet his way up to vocal bigotry. He started off slow, talking about the kids with 'crazy hair colors,' and later, 'the alphabet kids,' his way of labeling students who identified as LGBTQ+. Within a few weeks, he had started complaining about 'how sick and stupid' pronouns are. 'They can call themselves whatever they want,' he said, 'just don't expect me to play pretend too.' Those two cases are essentially the extent of educators expressing their personal beliefs at work that I ever encountered. Most teachers simply don't want to risk termination by talking about potentially contentious topics at work. To this day, aside from teachers who I've befriended and spoken with outside of work, I don't know the political or religious affiliation of nearly any of my former colleagues. Teachers are that averse to potentially career-ending conflict. Of course, that's my experience with teachers interacting with other teachers. But what about inside the classroom? I couldn't possibly know what happens in every other class while I'm busy teaching my own, right? Wrong. Students talk a lot about what their teachers do and say — and they particularly love to focus on the bad stuff. Is some of it rumor, hearsay or even deliberate lies? Sure. But when you hear the same things about the same teachers week after week, year after year, from different students — including trustworthy ones — you learn to separate fact from fiction. Students told me about exactly two instances of deliberate classroom indoctrination. The biggest repeat offender was an unassuming social studies teacher. Socially, she was reserved but kind, unerringly courteous and wholly nonconfrontational. Yet in her classroom, she focused intensely on the War of Northern Aggression and the idea that it was based on 'states' rights,' but specifically not slavery. Another offender — one I mentioned earlier — routinely ridiculed the idea of pronouns and gender identity in class, refusing to acknowledge students' gender identities. He eventually lost his position because of this behavior. Despite how all of this might sound, I am honestly not claiming that scores of conservative teachers are indoctrinating our students in the classroom. Over the course of my 13 years of personal observation and dozens of discussions (outside of work) with teacher friends, those are the only two instances that I have personally encountered. The fact that these two teachers held right-wing views appears purely coincidental to me. The bigger takeaway is that like in-person voter fraud, political indoctrination in public schools is incredibly rare. And there's a good reason why it's so vanishingly infrequent ... and it honestly might shock you. It's because almost every teacher out there is spending every ounce of their energy and patience trying to get their students to read just one paragraph without looking at their phones. They're too busy trying to get students to complete just one math problem without saying, 'This is too hard.' To write just one essay without using ChatGPT. To turn in just one assignment on time. And that's when they're not revising their lesson plans to align with the state's new Best-Ever Evidence-Based Data-Driven Standards That Are Guaranteed To Promote Mastery and Cultivate a Growth Mindset This Time. (Note: These will be deemed outdated and obsolete within two to four years, and replaced with Even-Better Standards, which will be functionally indistinguishable.) These revisions, of course, have to be scheduled around their student data chats, individualized education program meetings, professional learning communities, parent-teacher conferences, morning duty, hall duty and afternoon duty, all of which occur outside of mandatory faculty meetings (that always could have been emails). Of course, rational people know that there isn't rampant classroom indoctrination, but 'liberal teacher indoctrinating your children' has been a favorite bogeyman of the right for at least as long as I've been alive — part of a decades-long fight against public education that so many people have been sounding alarm bells over — and now I worry it's too goddamn late. Too many voters believed that schools are chopping off kids' genitals during recess. Too many voters believed that schools have litter boxes for kids who identify as cats. Too many voters believed that teachers promote feelings over facts. The most gullible among us voted for Donald Trump (he's a good businessman, after all!), and now the Department of Education is dead, graduate schools can no longer afford to bring in the next generation of scientists, doctors, engineers, lawyers and journalists, middle-class people are seeing their student loan monthly payments double, triple, or quadruple, and state and local public education funds are being gleefully snatched from public schools and funneled into for-profit corporate charter 'schools.' The generation of children and young adults whose education was already heavily disrupted by the pandemic is now left with far fewer, far worse post-secondary options than any generation before them in the modern age. And that's aside from rising unemployment, rising inflation and a housing market that is outrageously unaffordable. But hey, at least eggs are cheap now. Oh, wait... Marco Vanserra is the pseudonym of a professional educator and public school advocate. He specializes in making mathematics relevant and accessible to underserved communities in Florida. This article originally appeared on HuffPost in April 2025.
Yahoo
18-04-2025
- Politics
- Yahoo
I'm A Teacher. Here's The Shocking Truth About The "Woke" Indoctrination Of Students That Terrifies Conservatives.
I'm a bit of a masochist. I can't help but read the comments whenever the local news posts anything political on social media — especially when it's related to public education. I've spent most of my life building a career as a public educator who emphatically embraces and promotes diversity, equity, and inclusion, and I live in Florida, where public education is very much on the chopping block and our pouty, petulant goblin of a governor has made the classroom the front line of his culture war. In recent years, whenever I read the comment section of these stories, there are scores of MAGA folks screeching in chorus about evil liberal teachers indoctrinating kids with vegan transgender socialism. 'Their [sic] teaching are [sic] kids CRT [critical race theory]!' insists one commenter. 'They want white kids to feel guilty about their race!' cries another. On and on they go — affirming, commiserating and spreading their noxious grievances. And almost none of what they claim is true. Although I'm in public higher education now, I was a public high school teacher for over a decade. I worked at three radically different schools in three radically different counties. Most of my social circle is made up of teachers. If indoctrination were occurring at scale, I'd know about it. It's just not happening. Almost every teacher I've ever met (and that number is in the high hundreds at this point) is exceedingly careful not to discuss politics or religion while at school — even with other adults, even in the relative privacy of the break room, even one-on-one in their own classrooms during lunch or planning. It's a simple matter of self-preservation — if a single student were to hear you say, 'God, I hate Gov. Ron DeSantis,' they'd tell their friends, those friends would pass it on, and by the end of the day, you'd be in the principal's office explaining that no, you do not, in fact, have a 'Fuck DeSantis' tattoo on your chest. There are exceptions, of course. In the 13 years I spent teaching high school, a handful of teachers have been openly political. I was helping a fresh-out-of-college teacher set up his classroom in 2014 when he asked me, 'Can you believe they let these Muslim kids wear their habibs [sic] in class?' This was within 15 minutes of meeting him for the first time. 'I guess the dress code doesn't apply to them. I don't know why we bend the rules for them,' he continued. He had no idea if I was Muslim. He also didn't know if I was an immigrant — even though I'm visibly Hispanic — before he then went on a rant about 'the ESOL kids,' aka students in an English for Speakers of Other Languages program, who were 'probably illegal.' Another teacher I worked with at least had the patience to ratchet his way up to vocal bigotry. He started off slow, talking about the kids with 'crazy hair colors,' and later, 'the alphabet kids,' his way of labeling students who identified as LGBTQ+. Within a few weeks, he had started complaining about 'how sick and stupid' pronouns are. 'They can call themselves whatever they want,' he said, 'just don't expect me to play pretend too.' Those two cases are essentially the extent of educators expressing their personal beliefs at work that I ever encountered. Most teachers simply don't want to risk termination by talking about potentially contentious topics at work. To this day, aside from teachers who I've befriended and spoken with outside of work, I don't know the political or religious affiliation of nearly any of my former colleagues. Teachers are that averse to potentially career-ending conflict. Of course, that's my experience with teachers interacting with other teachers. But what about inside the classroom? I couldn't possibly know what happens in every other class while I'm busy teaching my own, right? Wrong. Students talk a lot about what their teachers do and say — and they particularly love to focus on the bad stuff. Is some of it rumor, hearsay or even deliberate lies? Sure. But when you hear the same things about the same teachers week after week, year after year, from different students — including trustworthy ones — you learn to separate fact from fiction. Students told me about exactly two instances of deliberate classroom indoctrination. The biggest repeat offender was an unassuming social studies teacher. Socially, she was reserved but kind, unerringly courteous and wholly nonconfrontational. Yet in her classroom, she focused intensely on the War of Northern Aggression and the idea that it was based on 'states' rights,' but specifically not slavery. Another offender — one I mentioned earlier — routinely ridiculed the idea of pronouns and gender identity in class, refusing to acknowledge students' gender identities. He eventually lost his position because of this behavior. Despite how all of this might sound, I am honestly not claiming that scores of conservative teachers are indoctrinating our students in the classroom. Over the course of my 13 years of personal observation and dozens of discussions (outside of work) with teacher friends, those are the only two instances that I have personally encountered. The fact that these two teachers held right-wing views appears purely coincidental to me. The bigger takeaway is that like in-person voter fraud, political indoctrination in public schools is incredibly rare. And there's a good reason why it's so vanishingly infrequent ... and it honestly might shock you. It's because almost every teacher out there is spending every ounce of their energy and patience trying to get their students to read just one paragraph without looking at their phones. They're too busy trying to get students to complete just one math problem without saying, 'This is too hard.' To write just one essay without using ChatGPT. To turn in just one assignment on time. And that's when they're not revising their lesson plans to align with the state's new Best-Ever Evidence-Based Data-Driven Standards That Are Guaranteed To Promote Mastery and Cultivate a Growth Mindset This Time. (Note: These will be deemed outdated and obsolete within two to four years, and replaced with Even-Better Standards, which will be functionally indistinguishable.) These revisions, of course, have to be scheduled around their student data chats, individualized education program meetings, professional learning communities, parent-teacher conferences, morning duty, hall duty and afternoon duty, all of which occur outside of mandatory faculty meetings (that always could have been emails). Of course, rational people know that there isn't rampant classroom indoctrination, but 'liberal teacher indoctrinating your children' has been a favorite bogeyman of the right for at least as long as I've been alive — part of a decades-long fight against public education that so many people have been sounding alarm bells over — and now I worry it's too goddamn late. Too many voters believed that schools are chopping off kids' genitals during recess. Too many voters believed that schools have litter boxes for kids who identify as cats. Too many voters believed that teachers promote feelings over facts. The most gullible among us voted for Donald Trump (he's a good businessman, after all!), and now the Department of Education is dead, graduate schools can no longer afford to bring in the next generation of scientists, doctors, engineers, lawyers and journalists, middle-class people are seeing their student loan monthly payments double, triple, or quadruple, and state and local public education funds are being gleefully snatched from public schools and funneled into for-profit corporate charter 'schools.' The generation of children and young adults whose education was already heavily disrupted by the pandemic is now left with far fewer, far worse post-secondary options than any generation before them in the modern age. And that's aside from rising unemployment, rising inflation and a housing market that is outrageously unaffordable. But hey, at least eggs are cheap now. Oh, wait... Marco Vanserra is the pseudonym of a professional educator and public school advocate. He specializes in making mathematics relevant and accessible to underserved communities in Florida. This article originally appeared on HuffPost in April 2025.
