|
Head Start plants seeds for a fruitful future
They toil long hours in the fields, their wiry, bronze bodies bent over
crops, sweat falling like rain in the midsummer heat.
Up before dawn, they are ferried away to the farms that dot the bucolic
countryside of Western Massachusetts, giving one last kiss to the babies
they have brought with them, the reasons they have traveled so far to
get ahead.
For many, the work does not end at sunset. That is when the real harvest
begins.
On a recent night, in a small air-conditioned room that must seem like a
refrigerator to some, migrant farm workers are learning the language of
this country. With each word she shows them on a chart, instructor Laura
Qualliotine is planting a seed.
One student named Santa points to the word "hot" and murmurs "calliente."
Then she repeats the Spanish word in English. "H-O-T."
Another student named Olga circles the English word "T-I-R-E-D" on a
page when Qualliotine yawns to press her point.
The summer English language learning program is a collaboration between
the Gray House, a social service program headquartered in Springfield's
North End, and Head Start. Janis Santos, executive director of Head
Start, said her agency applied for the federally funded migrant worker
grant about five years ago when it learned that the largest number of
migrant workers in the state are picking crops around Western
Massachusetts.
Some 73 children receive child care services while their parents take
English language lessons at Head Start offices on Wilbraham Road and
Carew Street. Lori A. Chaves, director of clinical and family services
for Head Start, said Head Start buses start picking up children at 4:45
a.m. to bring them to Head Start for the day while their parents make
their way to the fields. For every child that enters a Head Start
program, there is at least one on a waiting list to get in, thanks to
funding that has remained stagnant for years.
About 15 parents are taking the English language classes, Qualliotine
says. Director of adult education services at the Gray House, she is
also a bilingual instructor who slips effortlessly into Spanish when
needed during this class at the Wilbraham Road Head Start.
In a country where the debate still rages over whether English should be
the only official language, it is clear that the students in this class
are eager to learn it. Some have crossed deserts and battled raging
rivers to be here.
Many migrant farm workers are here legally on agricultural work visas
but their stay is limited to growing seasons.
Still, those who have worked here hard enough and long enough know that
they may get an opportunity to legally stay here. The imprints of their
homelands are etched on their faces and in their hearts, but, like the
Joad family in John Steinbeck's "The Grapes of Wrath," they are driven
by the itinerant quest for work, for food, and for a future.
Carlos Morales, family service coordinator for Head Start, says there is
something special about this particular class of students, whose hands
have dug deep into our soil to put food on our table and who are hungry
for a better life.
"They really seem to appreciate it," he says.
Holyoke/Chicopee/Springfield Head Start Inc. connects the families in
the program and others with a variety of services, including a healthy
relationship program and those offering information on nutrition and
health care.
But Santos knows that for every family helped, many more are in need.
The daughter of Scottish immigrants who married a Portuguese man in
Ludlow, she has often brought the plight of poor families from all
backgrounds to Washington. The agency serves more than 1,300 children
and families, including 700 in Springfield alone.
Head Start began in 1965 under the Johnson administration and has grown
with evidence that children fare better in life when they receive
critical education and services before entering school. One of its
biggest champions is U.S. Sen. Edward M. Kennedy, Santos says.
Nationwide, between 1 million and 3 million farm workers, most of them
Latino, leave their homelands to pick crops in the United States.
Although the income for the majority puts them below the U.S. poverty
level, it is often more than they can hope for in the impoverished
countries they come from.
For a migrant farm worker from Mexico, Guatemala or Jamaica, Springfield
must seem like a different universe. Yet, Chaves says the migrant
children are remarkably resilient. Home, for them, is where their
parents are.
On this hot summer night, in the heart of Springfield's Mason Square,
their parents are entering a new world, one where hope springs eternal
long after the last field has been tilled.
"Allegre," the students murmur, connecting the language in their head
with the word on the paper.
"Happy," says one student named Noemi as a shy smile sweeps across her
face. "Happy."
|