Struggling to learn, separated by walls of glass

As she sat alone in her Algebra I class, senior Cindy Solis's cheeks burned with shame. It was a few hours into her first day of junior year, and she was trying to ignore the two other students constantly glancing her way, but she could hear them whispering, making it impossible to concentrate on the math problems on her desk. And then, she heard it: a faint, unmistakable snicker. They were talking about her – she just knew it. As her eyes prickled with tears, Solis felt embarrassed and outraged. She wanted to disappear.

In 2004, Solis immigrated from El Salvador, where she lived with her aunt, grandmother and two brothers. Beginning her first week at Blair alone, she was lost and uncomfortable. Despite the building's size, she felt claustrophobic. Her limited English made the simplest interactions difficult. By the end of her first day, Solis never wanted to come back.

Being an English for Speakers of Other Languages (ESOL) student left Solis feeling utterly alone. Although the ID around her neck marked her as a student of Blair, she felt like she didn't belong. Solis has since found a place in the Blair community, though her experiences during her first year mirror those of Blair's 306 ESOL students who find themselves thrust into the unknown on a day-to-day basis.

Lost in the shuffle

When Solis first arrived at Blair, things were not what she expected. She reached out to a group of Salvadoran students, but even they provided little comfort. "I felt like I didn't belong here," she says.

Her problems were not exclusively social. In the same math class where she was frequently ridiculed, her grades began to slip. Solis remembers failing a math quiz because it included word problems. She knew there was nothing wrong conceptually – had she been fluent in English, she would have passed.

Learning English was also a problem for senior Rozina Jemal. Jemal, who came to the United States in 2003 from Ethiopia with her mother and brother, remembers being mocked because of her accent. In one instance, she was asked to explain a math problem in front of her Geometry class with her friend, also an ESOL student. "We were explaining it the best we could," she says, "but people kept saying, 'Oh my God, we don't understand what she's saying. She's dumb.'"

Jemal says that she and her fellow ESOL students are self-conscious about their accents, so they are afraid to participate in their classes. "People are scared when they have [non-ESOL] classes," she says. "Even if I don't understand something [in class], I don't ask questions."

Struggling to understand

In ESOL classrooms, students work in an atmosphere separate from the rest of the school. In her afternoon ESOL Level 5 class, ESOL teacher Jody Tomesek sits at the overhead projector, filling out a character chart on Harper Lee's To Kill a Mockingbird. Students call out answers and share their thoughts – here, at least, it seems they're completely comfortable.

Tomesek thinks that ESOL students have acquired a certain social stereotype. "Because they're so quiet, people think they're slow," she says. But Tomesek says that the only thing holding her students back is their English.

In trying to reach out and improve their language skills, ESOL students are redefining their perceptions, seeking to understand the foreign world around them. "They're trying to put themselves in context but they don't have the full cultural picture," she says.

A helping hand

In spite of their initial struggles, many ESOL students are coming to terms with their current circumstances. Jemal's situation at Blair slowly improved and she now considers herself a member of the Blair community.

As months passed, Solis also saw a friendlier side of Blair. Once, when she was eating her lunch at the foot of a stairwell, a security guard came and asked her to move. When Solis had trouble understanding, the guard patiently explained why she could not sit where she was. For Solis, his understanding was a sign of acceptance.

Although she still misses her native El Salvador, Solis is content with her life. "Things are a lot better now," she says. Her initial difficulties are fresh in her mind, but she has a new strategy. Today, she says she goes out of her way to help confused, alienated students. She hopes she can be a comfort to students who are lost in a foreign environment, just as she once was. "We know what it means to be without help," she says of her fellow ESOL students. "We know what it means to need someone."