Over the last 24-hours, I keep remembering a particularly cool winter morning when I encountered my mentee Adella. As I rounded the corner of the chilled school halls and entered the first-grade classroom, I heard a hacking, wheezing cough. To be honest, part of my mind said turn around before illness invades your body, but then I saw my normally jubilant mentee slumped in the back of the classroom. Poor Adella, I thought, as she looked up and a smile crossed her face just under her runny nose. Already plagued by a string of absences, a language barrier and lackluster grades, Adella didn't need this lingering bronchitis-like condition, which promised to leave her further behind her classmates. Just before recess, she peered into her bag along the cubby holes and pulled out a box of medicine. Moments later, Ms. Snow reached over Adella's shoulders and confiscated the contents of the box. "You need to see the nurse before taking medicine at school," she said. Walking by Adella's side to the nurse's office, I grew more worried about her persistent cough. Soon my worry turned into a horrified feeling of frustration. The school nurse took the medicine from Adella. She said that in order to administer the medicine a signed note must be in her file. Of course, I thought, this makes sense to me. When the necessary paper work was not located, the nurse attempted to call Adella's mother. "May I speak to Ms. Rodriguez," she said. "um, um...¿Cómo se dice...? I'll have to give you a call back." Slamming the phone down, the obviously frustrated nurse attempted to compose herself and explain the adult situation to Adella. While she proceeded to explain why Adella couldn't take her medicine at school, I was appalled at the utter communication breakdown that prevented a child from taking necessary medication. As I remember this episode, I am reminded again and again of the need for translators in our school systems. What if Adella's persistent cough had been something even worse? Every school in America should have access to a translator for instances such as this; otherwise, we are providing a great disservice to our children.
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7 comments:
Your experience demonstrates this point well. I wonder what whether the school does not believe there is sufficient need for a translator. Or perhaps there are none available, or maybe the school doesn't feel like they can afford to hire one. However, it seems like the school could look into the option of utilizing translators who volunteer their services in the community, such as those affiliated with churches who would be glad to help in these situations.
This is a poignant anecdote that makes me want to know how often this happens not only in the county where you mentor this little girl, but in Clarke and other counties with rapidly growing Latino populations.
Actually, the schools are always looking for volunteers to help translate at the schools. There are translators for most of the schools in clarke county, but not as many as they need.
One of the problems is not just a language barrier, but the way they handle health care at schools.
They no longer have a nurse available at each school. Nurses are assigned several schools. Teachers are not allowed to keep medicine in the classrooms. This is frightening for me since my son has asthma. I have to leave his medicine locked up in the front office. Sometimes he needs it quickly to breathe. If and when he has an asthma attack will someone be fumbling around looking through a closet for his inhaler? Will they be reading the directions slowly while he's trying to breathe?
This entry really stirred me. When I started college, I was a Spanish major. I wanted to learn Spanish in order to be able to help people in situations like this one. My route to graduation redirected my path a bit and I never finished my Spanish courses. Now I wish I had. I still have a passion for the language and greatly enjoy it. Maybe it's not too late yet.
I guess I will take a different viewpoint on this. As a parent, I see it as my responsibility to make sure that those giving care to my children fully understand the needs of my children--whether that be medicine, behavior concerns, bedtime, whatever. The burden is on the parent--not the school system--to provide clear instructions. That means in this case the child's parents come to school with their own translator and explain the dosage requirement, etc.
Too often we blame the school system for Johnny's failing grades, his behavior, his attitude, etc.
Yes, translators are nice, especially if your customers or constituents or students speak a different language. We should provide them if it can be justified.
But in the end, parents are responsible for the care and well being of their children.
Realistically, I'm not sure that the average non-English speaking family could afford to have a translator on hand for every encounter with the school system, hospital or even a government official. However, I'm also not advocating that parents shouldn't parent. As a person who came one semester shy of becoming an early childhood educator, I know, first-hand, that many parents (regardless of race or ethnic background) don't invest adequate time into the lives of their children. In this instance, however, Adella's mother sent her child to school with the appropriate medications intended to relieve her illness, and that medication was not properly utilized because of communication barriers. No matter who's to "blame," I don't believe that children should be punished when communication barriers exist.
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