To be a citizen: Elder Koreans pursue a dream
Chances are you read right over that sentence and perhaps even already silently whispered the answer to yourself. But inside a makeshift classroom in a South Tacoma Way office, there are people straining with every mental muscle to learn the question and its answer.
These are more than 30 senior citizens who were born in Korea. They dream about becoming citizens. That's why they are sitting in Mandy Ma's class.
In fact, only a few of these people have much practical chance at citizenship, for reasons we'll talk about in a minute. But they are delighted to stay active and are intense about learning the language.
Notebooks are packed with tiny Korean characters that aim to reproduce the sounds of English. Waves of graying hair and gold-rimmed glasses move up and down as heads look between notebooks and the blackboard.
"How many stars are in our flag?" Ma says.
"Fifty," some students say.
"I canÕt hear you," Ma says.
"Fifty," some students shout.
Not all follow her. The "f" sound is unfamiliar. Ma catches her lower lip under her teeth to exaggerate the movement to pronounce the consonant. They practice together, saying "fifty" again and again. The techniques are all improvised, though they certainly work well.
Ma, an active member of the Korean Women's Association, has never taught English before, but she couldn't find any professionals to teach the class. She works off a notebook that lists the 100 questions that may be asked in a citizenship exam. The examiner will choose 16 out of the 100; the applicant must answer correctly at least eight times.
With every English word, Ma writes a phonetic Korean pronunciation on the board. "How many senators are there?" she asks.
The students think they have this class figured out.
"Fifty," they say.
Ma pauses. "One-hundred," she says.
"One-hundred," the students say.
Ma frequently taps on the table to get the wandering attention of the eldest student, Young Man Shim, 86. After class, Ma translates as Shim explains why he attends: "With my age, I easily forget things. Generally, I forget everything – but when it is repeated a little bit, I understand. I like to live here in the United States, and I want to vote and know what's going on."
Kyun Soon Park, 70, speaks proudly of her new home and her grandson, a pre-med student at the University of Washington. "The memory part is difficult because of my age," she says, "but I am going to die in this country so this is a good thing to do."
Few in the class have much practical chance at citizenship. Most say they have trouble remembering the English words. But also, most have lived in this country less than 15 years. The reason that is important is that if you have lived in this country for 15 years, you can bring a translator with you to the exam. So Ma, as a translator, can only go in with about 10 of the seniors to help them understand the questions.
Yet the seniors faithfully attend these classes and practice with partners.
"I came to the United States as part of my lifelong dream," says Myung Soon Chi, 73, who lives in Oakbrook. "I want to vote for president of the United States. That's my dream. To go out and vote for president."
