The students enjoyed the story, but most wanted to talk about investigating Officer Michael Gebhardt’s police cruiser.

“I liked sitting in the back.  It was a hard seat,” said Gursharar, while snacking on a – bagel with a cream cheese and grape jam.

The afternoon was courtesy of Hoopoe Books Share Literacy Program, a non-profit that works with schools to encourage reading skills in students using a tradition from Afghanistan called teaching stories.

Earlier half of the students listened with rapt attention as teacher Joumana Mattar read The Clever Boy and the Terrible Dangerous Animal by Idries Shah.  Next door Brenda Bethancourt read the Spanish version of the book to the those in the bilingual class.

The story is about a boy in Afghanistan who discovers that the terrible, dangerous animal that is feared by villagers is nothing more than a gigantic watermelon.  The point of the story is to encourage children to be inquisitive and not be afraid of things that may be new to them.

While reading the story Mattar paused to ask the children questions.

“Have you ever been afraid of something you’ve never seen before?” she said.

One girl said she’d never seen a snake, a boy said he’d never seen a dragon.

“Have you ever been attacked by a watermelon?” said Mattar.

“Nooooooooooooooo!” chimed the class in unison.

Two weeks prior to the event the teachers went through professional literacy strategy training to learn how to read and teach the story more effectively.

“We get the kids to know the story through questions that are factual, and others than ask them to drawn on reason and experience. Then we expose them to what an author and an illustrator does,” said Beverly Taub, director of preschool programs for Fremont United School District.

The students had pre-event preparation as well.  They were treated to a watermelon party where they got to see one cut up and were able to taste it.  They were invited to experience the texture of watermelon and count the seeds. Then they were taught how new watermelons can be grown using seeds.

The watermelon party introduced the students to “the terrible, dangerous, animal” the villagers were afraid before they heard the story.

“That made it more real,” said Taub.

This is the second year the pre-school has worked with Hoopoe Books, which is funded by a grant from the Kaiser foundation, but this was the first time it was paired with a visit from a police officer.

“We wanted to make it a more special event and tie reading into what we do in every day life,” said Taub

Gebhardt was present during the read-along and ready to take the stage when both classes were combined in the playroom.

“We’re going to show you a helper of the community,” said one of the assistants introducing Gebhardt.”  He is going to become your friend too.”

Gebhardt had not received any training but quickly got into the spirit of things.

“Why is reading important?” he asked the class. “One of the reasons it’s good is you have to read signs. Like the big red sign that says…”

“Stop!” the students shouted.

He asked the students to think about what happens when they are riding in a car with a grown up and what they do when they see signs.  Then he broke it down further to colored signal lights.

“What do they do when they see a yellow light?”

“Slow down,” shouted a boy.

Gebhardt appeared very pleased by that answer.

At the end he asked,  “Who wants to be a police officer?”

Half of the hands in the room shot up high.

“If you want to be a police officer you have to know how to read and write.  We spend a lot of time reading and writing things down,” he said.

Each child was given a copy of the book paired with an audio CD of the story. Then Gebhardt and the students went outside to explore his car.  The students took turns flashing the lights and turning on different sirens.  Some climbed into the back seat and peered through the bars like suspects.

As the grand finale Gebhardt gave each child a police badge sticker and a hi-five.

By Huda Ahmed/510 Report

Jessica Fischer organized mysterious shapes made of plastic and metal, as well as spongy brightly-colored toys on the table and waited for her young audience at UC Berkeley’s International House to be seated. The dim yellow light bulbs gave the room a romantic glow. The whole room was soon packed with more than 45 international students from the University of California trying to figure out what these objects were and what the speaker would say.

Fischer a fair, skinny 25-year-old woman, is a masters candidate with the Department of Sexuality Studies at San Francisco State University, and she was about to lead a workshop about pleasure physiology and sex toys. The workshop’s goal was to let students understand their bodies and feel comfortable with them, and to be as comfortable talking about sex with members of the opposite gender as with their own.

Sex is very sensitive subject for some international students like Cheryl Lo, a 22-year-old undergrad in mass communications, who was staring at the workshop flyer: “It was a bit shocking when I saw it. I asked myself, ‘Do they talk about sex and orgasm publicly?” she said. “I‘m curious and I want to ask some questions. I’m from Hong Kong and in our culture; it is embarrassing to talk about sex in public.”

Fischer began her lecture by asking the students who had taken any biology classes to raise their hands – only one student did. “Okay, in this workshop, we will talk about the history of sex toys, the use of them and the physiology of pleasure to understand how these things stimulate our body,” she said.

She produced two cloth dolls, a man and a woman, with spongy genitals.  The students passed them from one to another, making fun of them and taking pictures; some were nervous and shy about touching the toys.

The lecture lasted for more than two hours; Fischer spoke about the earliest days of sex toys when they were used for medical therapy, not as entertainment objects, and about the 19^th Century doctors who tried to find a way to enhance or increase the sense of pleasure for women who could not get satisfaction from their partners.

Fischer is originally from Arizona, and works as an independent contractor for the Good Vibrations OSSE (Off-Site Sex Education) program. Good Vibrations is a retailer devoted to providing “access to sex-positive products,” according to their Web site. Fischer realized her ability to teach when she was very young, “I have always educated people around me. I used to give my friends condoms to help them have safe sex,” she said, “I came from conservative state which is different from California, so I did not know how it was going to be and if I would be able to talk about sex topics in public.” 

The students were curious and they kept asking questions, especially the males. For many of them, the lecture was helpful and informative.  “I learned about the human body, differences between women and men,” said one Middle Eastern student, who asked that her name not be used. In her home country, she said, “We are mostly introduced to the subject as biology without going into details. Due to the culture we did not discuss it—it is not a public issue, it is completely private and prohibited. You can talk about it with your same sex but, not with the other sex.”

The sex workshop was not the first one for Angela Chang, a senior chemistry major at UC Berkeley, “This is the third sex workshop I’ve attended.  I was so nervous in the first workshop because I was worried how people would judge me but I felt so comfortable about my body after that,” she said, “My family is originally from China but I was born here. At home, we definitely never talk about sex with me. The only way my parents wanted to teach me is when they handed me a stack of sex books about the change the body goes through and that is it.”

The lecture wrapped up with sex toys in different colors and shapes being passed around by the students, who found it a chance to make goofy remarks. One of the students put a vibrator toy on the floor to make it look like a worm. Fischer does not mind her audience to play with the toys. “It is no harm to throw jokes in here and there to break the sensitive barrier of the subject, as long it helps people to understand and have safe sex,” she said.

By Adelaide Chen

Financial setbacks and anticipated cuts in public education have impacted at least one community program in Oakland.  A volunteer-run Vietnamese language school has raised tuition and decreased teacher stipends in order to pay $7000 to $8000 in janitorial fees for the first time.

This school year has been a financial headache for executive director Ky Vo and his team of volunteers.  For the past decade, the Huong Viet Community Center has held classes at Roosevelt Middle School in the San Antonio neighborhood, drawing about 80 kids from the East Bay.

Faced with the possibility of being unable to afford the school facilities, Huong Viet raised tuition to $250 per student for 33 Saturday sessions.

In addition, the teachers agreed to decrease their stipends, said Vietnamese instructor Chanh Tran, 31, who also teaches math at a local high school during the week.

“We’re kind of worried about whether we’re able to run the school anymore. If we don’t have a budget, we aren’t able to rent a facility,” she said.

The teachers agreed to take home $30 for each three-hour class, rather than $40.  One board member referred to the stipends as “gas money” because half of the eight teachers drive from Richmond, Hayward, and Berkeley.

“I’m impressed with the teachers.  They’re very dedicated,” said Ky Vo, executive director of Huong Viet.  “Some donate (their stipends) back to us.”

As the head of Huong Viet, Vo himself does not receive a stipend.  Nor did he attend Vietnamese school as a kid growing up in Oakland.  Now he seems content giving up his Saturday mornings so that other kids can have the opportunity.

Parents started the school two decades ago so kids could learn Vietnamese in an organized way, he said.  Although some churches and temples offer Vietnamese language classes, Huong Viet is the only non-denominational school in the East Bay.  Increasing numbers of second-generation Vietnamese mean student numbers are growing—the kindergarten class doubled this year.

The East Bay Asian Youth Center (EBAYC), whose staff runs Saturday morning detention and an after-school program, has always extended the use of Roosevelt Middle School to Vietnamese classes for the past decade, said Gianna Tran, executive director.

But last December, Tran received an invoice for janitorial overtime.  Her organization paid for it and notified Huong Viet to take over the costs starting in the 2008-2009 school year, she said.

“We’re all bleeding the same way,” said Tran. “No one should suspect they’re immune to (budget cuts).”

“In the past, I’ve had extra money to pay custodians to open the school on weekends,” said Theresa Clincy, principal of Roosevelt Middle School.

But in order to balance her school’s budget, her first priority was to maintain staffing levels.  She said she anticipated additional cuts in the state’s education budget this year.

Huong Viet has never paid for the use of as many as eight classrooms.  But they don’t charge parents for the summer activity sessions either.

The East Bay Chinese School spends more than $10,000 to pay teacher stipends and lease Westlake Middle School in Oakland’s Grand Lake neighborhood, said Principal Ming Wu.  But the student fees offset the costs.  Parents contribute over $300 per student for 32 sessions, a $25 one-time new student fee, and an $80 deposit per family.

Unlike Huong Viet, the Chinese language school is experiencing rapid growth because students of other races are learning Mandarin, said Wu.  About 400 students, including ones from black and white families, use about 30 classrooms, including the auditorium, on Saturdays.

By Adelaide Chen  
Thousands of East Bay community college students attending Laney, Berkeley City, Merritt, and College of Alameda still have not received financial checks for the semester.

With a week left before Thanksgiving, over 2700 students still do not know the status of their financial aid offer and thousands more may not be aware that there are problems with their application.

The students demanded accountability at the Peralta Community College District’s Board of Trustees meeting on Nov. 18.

“How much more do I have to wait to see a dime,” said Toni Baker, 25, at the podium during public comment.  Baker, a full-time Theatre Arts student at Laney College said she has no one to depend on financially because she is a foster child.

“We’re working diligently to resolve this issue,” said Chancellor Elihu Harris at the meeting. “We certainly understand and apologize to the students.  It’s not their fault.”

A new software system, custom designed to integrate separate financial aid databases from the four colleges has caused major headaches for administrators and students.

But Chancellor Harris said many of the students had conflicting documents in which the paperwork submitted differed from what was stated on the application.

Over 75 percent of the applications have been reviewed.  Of those, he said, 55 percent have conflicting or missing documents.

Community college students have seven or eight checklist items when applying for financial aid.  That’s more than other students in higher education, said Jeff Heyman, spokesperson for the district.  The students are considered more “financially at-risk.”

The district acknowledges more than 2,737 applications have yet to be reviewed.  More than half of the unread applications are from students at Laney College, the largest of the four schools.

Students who turned in their application before August 31 may receive their check before the end of the year, said Donald Saotome Moore, vice president of Laney College.

But with no aid until the end of the year, some students may drop out this semester and try to recover their financial losses.

Eryka Nadreau, 26, said she already gave up her apartment and is staying with a friend.  She came to campus on a recent Tuesday, waiting in line until she reached the financial aid window, but didn’t come away with any answers.  She said she has never received any notification of the status of her financial aid application.

“They say, ‘We’re working on it.  We’ll let you know,’” she said, who described the college counselors as “scarce.”  Nadreau, working towards a two-year degree in Media Arts, said she was thinking of returning to Los Angeles and moving in with her family.

Terri Rodgers, 33, has been through the financial aid process many times.  She said she has left three months of phone messages with a counselor. She is still waiting for a call back.  She filed her application in May, and again in August.

During public comment at the district trustees meeting, Rodgers said she could have graduated with two degrees this semester had she taken a full-time course load.  But without any indication of when she would see a check, she dropped to part-time, below 12 units.  Each course unit costs $20 at the four community colleges.

Now eligible for less financial aid, she said, “My check isn’t that big.  It’s not going to make or break me.  It’s the audacity of (Peralta District) not having a back-up plan.”

Eliza Chan, a spokeswoman for Laney College said “to ease the pain”, a number of students have received emergency loans, including vouchers for books, and a number of textbooks have been purchased and put on reserve in the library.

Laney College received about 2700 applications for aid this semester, she said, and 1050 students have received funding so far as of Nov 13.

Ambree Hewitt, 24, is entering college for the first time since finishing high school five years ago.  She doesn’t want to drop out this semester, but has missed classes at Laney to pick up her 6-year-old daughter from school.  Without financial aid, Hewitt said she can’t afford childcare.

“I hardly even have resources to come to school,” she said.  Among other things, Hewitt said she has pared down her cell phone expenses to pay-per-minute instead of using a monthly plan.

Hewitt, an aspiring psychologist, said she continues to hang in there.  What kind of role model would I be for my daughter if I dropped out, she said.

Dr. Robin Buckwalter, a medical chiropractor and massage therapist, treats a patient at her office in Mission San Jose. Buckwalter will be teaching a clinical massage therapy course beginning in February at the Fremont Adult School.

By Tyler Sipe  –

But most of all, she hopes to fill the void of quallified massage therapists working in Fremont.

Sam Kress, owner of Family Massage Therapy, agreed the local market could have better trained practitioners.

With unemployment reaching new highs and the rate of foreclosures showing no sign of slowing, stability becomes a fleeting concept for families who find themselves out of work and out of a home. For children, this instability and impermanence could potentially jeopardize their education. Since 1987, a federal program has been in place to help assist these children and as their numbers rise, these services have become increasingly pertinent.

The McKinney-Vento Homeless Assistance Act was put in place in 1987 to ensure that homeless children and youth have equal access to a free public education. According to Jan Steed, the McKinney-Vento coordinator for the Fremont Unified School District, homeless children are registered for the free breakfast and lunch program and receive free school materials, backpacks and PE uniforms.

“We try to ensure that the student has the same opportunities for things like field trips, school dances and sports teams, even if they don’t have the money for it” said Steed.

Along with financial assistance, Steed said the Act requires that school districts provide homeless students with free transportation to and from school.

Over the past year, Steed said she has seen a rise in the number of homeless students due to the foreclosure problems. The Tri-City Homeless Coalition has also observed this increase.

Louis Chicoine, the group’s executive director, said, “There has been a five to ten percent increase over the past year resulting from chronic housing problem and the nation’s economic state.”

As these numbers continue to grow, one of the most pressing concerns, according to Steed, is the reluctance of families to identify as homeless.

This is something that Toni Adams, the director of special programs for Alameda County, said she has been struggling with during her nine-and-a-half years in the position.

“People have to self-identify and people don’t always do that. We work with the shelters and the school districts and have posters there, but you can’t make people do what they don’t want to do,” said Adams.

Steed said that in her district, she is working with school administrators to create a relaxed environment where families do not feel afraid or ashamed to come forward and identify as being homeless. “We’re really decreasing the level of fear of humiliation and misunderstanding by saying that regardless of circumstance, ‘come on in,’” said Steed.

In establishing an open atmosphere, Pete Murchison, the principal at Irvington High School, said the best approach is one of anonymity. According to him, the majority of students, teachers and administrators do not know who the homeless students are.

“I see the paperwork, but I don’t really know them. I work best to support them as quietly as I can. It’s really about trying to pull all our forces together so that student can have as normal an experience as possible,” said Murchison.

For many of these students, being homeless can bring with it a myriad of problems, academically and emotionally. According to Amanda Carlson, the head counselor at Irvington, this is just what school counselors are trained for.

In dealing with homeless students, Carlson said that her main concern is the well-being of the student.

“There’s always going to be some anxiety on the part of the student. It’s hard to keep up with your studies if your worrying about your family, living in a shelter, have no private room or desk to get your work done,” she said.

Carlson said that, while the school counselors may not know who the specific homeless students are, they strive to reassure all the students that the counselors are a confidential source to turn to if help is needed.

“When we [counselors] do find out that a student is homeless, we become a sort of liaison for that student. We keep in contact with the district, we work with the homeless shelters and if there’s a parent, we try to maintain contact with them,” said Carlson.

Communication is a key component to the McKinney-Vento program. For her, Steed said communication means continuously training school staff, reaching out to the community and bringing awareness to the school district about the presence and needs of homeless students.

Steed went on to say that people need to realize that homelessness is unpredictable and not just chronic. Perhaps the harsh losses in this economic crisis will help de-stigmatize homelessness and show that it can happen to anyone.

Hollywood often stereotypes librarians as mousy women in horn-rimmed glasses who hide behind books. But the work of a librarian is not limited to searching databases and silencing noisy patrons. As mandated by the Young Adult Services Association (part of the American Library Association), an element of advocacy underlies the work that librarians do. For one Alameda County Librarian, she took the mandate of advocacy to heart to ensure that her patrons, the inmates of the Alameda Juvenile Detention Hall, were not disenfranchised during the 2008 Presidential Election.

As the Write-to-Read coordinator for the Alameda County juvenile justice program, Amy Cheney spends most of her days at the juvenile detention hall in San Leandro. Write-to-Read brings library services, programs and literacy to incarcerated youth. Because they are minors, these offenders were unable to comment for this report.

As the election approached, Cheney said that her job as a librarian was to provide these incarcerated youth with the voter registration forms and election information that would have been available to them at any public library in the free world.

“It wasn’t enough to just give them the registration forms,” she said, “I had to make sure their votes counted because if the registration process isn’t done correctly, they can’t vote.”

Cheney was targeting youth who would turn 18 by Election Day as well as those who were 18 and serving sentences for crimes they committed as a minor.

Cheney said she attended a voter registration program and began volunteering some of her personal time to ensure these youth were able to complete the often confusing registration and ballot-casting process.

Over a period of one month, Cheney said she managed to register every individual in the juvenile justice system who would be eligible to vote on Election Day — roughly 30 people. Of those 30, Cheney said all but ten were released before Election Day, and, she hopes, they received their ballots at home.

For those ten other inmates behind bars, Cheney said, the ballots were supposed to be mailed to them at the detention hall. With the election only two days away, the ballots had still not arrived.

“We had to find out where the ballots went. I asked the kids to call their parents to see if they had them. Then I took all the names and called the registrar of voters,” said Cheney.

Cheney said that the registrar’s office was unable to locate the registration forms without the registration numbers. As it happened, Cheney said she had made copies and given them to the local Wellstone Democratic Club for their records.

Larry Steinhart, who managed the voter registration efforts at the club, said that all registration information was entered into a database. Due to a glitch in the system, Steinhart had to manually search through thousands of entries, but was able to retrieve all but two of the form numbers.

Steinhart said he was happy to help but felt that Cheney was taking on a “Herculean” task. “I thought there was next to no chance that these kids would ever be able to vote from inside the institution. I thought she was out of her mind in a kind of Don Quixote manner, tilting at all the institutional windmills,” he said.

With registration numbers in hand, Cheney said she returned to the registrar’s office and was finally able to ensure that the names were in the system. She also made sure that official ballots were hand-delivered to the juvenile detention hall. Rather than risk the mail, she said that she physically delivered the ballots to the polling place on Election Day.

Cheney said the experience was frustrating. “What if you don’t have an advocate? It really irritates me. This might be human error, but could we not have a better system?” she said.

But Cheney said her effort was worth it. She said there was an overwhelming response to her educational efforts throughout the detention hall and the youth developed an interest in social and political issues that she had never witnessed before.

“Kids were wanting to register [to vote] who weren’t 18 and readership increased throughout the detention hall. I’ve never gotten anyone to read any book about a president. But everyone wanted to read [Barack] Obama’s book. People wanted to read Michael Moore’s ‘Election Guide.’ I even handed out a Nation magazine to a kid,” said Cheney.

Cheney was quick to assert that her efforts were bi-partisan and that she tried to fully explain the positions of the different political parties and both sides of each item on the ballots. She even provided the youth with contact information so they could do their own research in the detention hall’s library and when they were able to make phone calls.

That being said, Cheney said that many of the young offenders were immediately drawn to Barack Obama because they felt they were able to relate to him.

“I feel like they saw themselves [in him] and wanted to vote. It was great,” she said, adding,

“Obama is speaking in a way that youth can understand.  There’s an absolute connection to him, not just because he’s black but because of his circumstances. The fact that he didn’t know his father and was raised by a single mother; the kids in here can relate to that,” she said.

While Steinhart was never able to meet any of the youth, he said that Cheney’s work taught these juvenile offenders that they had an advocate who was willing to work on their behalf and that their voices matter.

“The voting opportunity which Amy provided was a teaching moment in individual exercise of choice and participation in the civic life of their country. Their voices in this election were equally as powerful as yours and mine, which is as it should be in a democracy,” said Steinhart.

Now that the election is over, Cheney said she is trying to make sure the youth understand that they need to re-register whenever they move, and they do so frequently.

Cheney said she continues to find ways to improve the Write-to-Read program, but hopes that with Obama as president, the youths will maintain an interest in current events and learning that many of them did not have before.

“I think his election is going to have a big impact on them and future generations,” she said.

Shirley Fok, 16, and Harshil Kanakia, 19, go door-to-door as part of Mayor Wasserman

Shyu is one of 130 students Mayor Bob Wasserman’s campaign recruited from high school classrooms and at school activities fairs. The campaign offered students like Shyu community service credit, an “intern” title for their resumes and college recommendation letters. While this all seemed like simply offering students campaign experience and activities for college applications, legal scholars say the recruitment actually violated state education law.

Soliciting students on school grounds for partisan purposes violates section 51520 of the California Education Code, according to Professor Lois Schwartz of U.C. Hastings College of Law.

“Looks like the Mayor really made a booboo here,” Schwartz said.

Wasserman’s campaign said the mayor was too busy to comment, but spokesman Mitchell Lester said: “Obviously, we had no idea” the on campus recruitment broke the law, adding the principals at the schools cleared the campaign to talk to students.

Approval from principals or even the school board would not satisfy the education code, according to Schwartz.

Two high schools, American and Kennedy, did not allow the campus recruitment, according to campaign officials.

Councilmember Steve Cho, one of Wasserman’s two opponents in the election, said when he ran for City Council in 2000 and 2004, he was advised that recruiting students on campus violated school policy. Because of this, Cho said he did not recruit students on campus in this or previous elections.

The third mayoral candidate, Gus Morrison, said he has no student volunteers.

Fontaine Ma, 16, phonebanks at Wasserman campaign headquarters.

According to interviews with students, teachers, and the campaign’s Field Director, Altin Dastmalchi, the campaign staff recruited students in classrooms and orientations by promising college recommendation letters from the mayor himself, in addition to service learning credit, an “internship” program for resumes, and an opportunity to learn about local elections. They asked students to commit four hours a week to phonebanking, door-to-door outreach, and other work like putting up lawn signs and preparing mailers.

“This has been a great program,” said Spokersperson Lester. “It is designed to bring students in to learn more about public service and campaigns.”

While education and legal experts interviewed stressed the importance of encouraging student involvement in politics, some teachers and educators expressed concern that the campaign’s encroachment into classrooms and the promise of recommendation letters was inappropriate.

“I like the kids to get involved in political life,” said Kennedy High School social science teacher Jerry Lapiroff, who did not allow the recruiters in his class, “but I hate to see them possibly working as mercenaries without really having been able to check out the issues in the campaigns and decide who they really wanted to support.”

Ingrid Seyer-Ochi, assistant professor at UC Berkeley’s School of Education, said teachers are often rightly eager to provide opportunities for students, but the school must actively pursue and provide a range of ideas — or, in this case, candidates — from which students can choose.

When one person recruits in a classroom, where students must attend, Syer-Ochi said “the authority that is invested in the teacher and class gets transferred to the presenter,” even if the teacher says the opportunity is optional.

If a classroom visitor fits with the pedagogical goals of the class, at a time that is appropriate in the curriculum, and with the other candidates presenting as well, Seyer-Ochi said having campaign visits in the classroom could be appropriate.

“That’s a really high bar for educators to train young people to be active decisions makers on their own,” she acknowledged.

Wassserman said that while he believed the campaign had to be “careful” about not seeming to coerce the students, he did not believe the schools had any obligation to notify the other candidates.

Government and Economics Teacher Roxanne Ponsi said she and her colleagues at Mission San Jose High School allowed the recruiters into the classroom because the campaign staff was not talking about issues. “It was more about seeing how a campaign works,” she said.

Legally, according the Professor Schartz, the opposite is true. “There is nothing saying the candidate can’t come on campus and speak as long as they have administration approval,” she said. “It’s the solicitation of the kids to help out on the campaign that really causes the problem.”

After visiting the classrooms, the mayor’s campaign required students to fill out a brief application and attend an information session about the basics of campaigning, students and Dastmalchi said. At most of the information sessions, the mayor spoke briefly about his policy positions.

Dastmalchi said he thought the internship provided a good opportunity for students to be politically involved before they could even vote.

Taking a break from phonebanking at campaign headquarters two weeks ago, Fontaine Ma, 16, said the recruiter told her the internship would be good for a college recommendation and would fulfill the mandatory 40-hour service requirement that all high school students must complete. Junior Shyu said promise of a recommendation letter from the mayor attracted most of her fellow students to the campaign.

Wasserman said before signing any letters, he would check with the campaign’s field director to make sure the students did a good job.

The Wasserman’s campaign offer of letters of recommendation in exchange for campaign help was not illegal, according to Bob Stern, president of the Los Angeles-based Center for Governmental Studies and former general counsel for the Fair Political Practices Commission.

Despite initially signing up with internship credit on the mind, student Shyu said she has enjoyed learning more about the Mayor and the city more broadly. Though Shirley Fok, 16, did not find many Wasserman supporters on her first day going canvassing door-to-door, she said she liked getting to walk around the neighborhood and talk to people.

Professor Seyer-Ochi stressed the importance of developing dynamic learning experiences outside of the classroom.

“This has the possibility to be really good and build-up longer term relations about local politics, government classes, and internship possibilities,” she said, “but that needs to be done in the contexts that are meaning and right.”

As a result of ethnic conflict in Bhutan, Damanta Kharel, 25, grew up and attended school in a United Nations camp.  She earned a masters degree commuting from the camp to a nearby college in Nepal.

But as a newly arrived refugee in Oakland, she takes night classes to get a GED.

“We know English, but the tone is different,” she said.  “We don’t understand people talking here.  We always have to ask again.”

Kharel and her sister are among the seven students from Bhutan attending the GED class several nights a week.  She knows some of the other refugees, because they lived in the same camp for 17 years.  Among the refugees from Bhutan that have accepted an offer to come to the U.S., few have expectations they will return to their homeland again.

About two decades ago, the Bhutanese government redefined citizenship rules, and drove out 100,000 ethnic Nepalese who had moved there for better economic opportunities.

Kharel’s grandparents migrated from neighboring Nepal to Bhutan as farmers.  But when forced to leave, the family and relatives spent almost two decades in one of seven United Nations funded camps.

“If you stayed (in the camp) there was no hope of going back to Bhutan,” said Hari Poudel, 25, who attends the GED evening class with her younger brother.

After no agreement had been reached between the Bhutanese and Nepalese governments in 16 ministerial talks, the U.S. agreed to accept the majority of the refugees.  The Poudel and Kharel families arrived in the spring and summer with the first wave.  Kharel’s brother and sister-in-law are expected to join her family in March.

Although the children learned English in the camp education system, the older generation did not have the same educational opportunities. Today, both the mothers of Poudel and Kharel are attending ESL classes at the adult school.

Teresa Espinosa, registrar at the Oakland Neighborhood Centers Adult School, who has worked in ESL for 25 years, said “Bhutan was a surprise.  Mongolia not so much.”

Kharel’s 57-year-old mother Dirga, who is learning her ABCs, said she gets teary-eyed when she sees the other students interacting with the teacher and she can’t say a word.  “If only I had been given a chance to learn English earlier in life,” she said.

The class meets three hours in the morning each weekday.  Dirga said it is too hard at her age.

“It’s really different to live here, especially for mother,” said son Bishnu Kharel, 22.  “It’s a challenge for her to grow up in this environment.”

In the U.S. alone, there are about 4,000 refugees from Bhutan so far, according to Don Climent, regional director of the International Rescue Committee, an organization that helped settle the families locally.

The U.S. Department of State plans to accept 60,000 refugees from Bhutan over the next five years.  Canada, Denmark and Australia agreed to smaller numbers.

About 130 refugees from Bhutan have relocated to Oakland and Alameda, said Climent. Oakland and Alameda are considered favorable because a built in community already exists, he said.  There were already some that managed to make their way into the U.S. seeking asylum and did not receive refugee assistance.

But the Kharel family said they are upset about relatives relocated to far away places like Virginia and Chicago.  They told U.S. officials they would move anywhere as long as they ended up in the same location.

Among a myriad of support services, IRC caseworkers set up housing and bank accounts, helped with job placement, enrolled kids in school, and referred others to adult education.

The environment at the adult school is unique, said GED instructor Mark Gallo. “Kids who went to high school in Oakland are learning from kids from all over the world they would otherwise never meet.”
The Neighborhood Centers Adult School is one campus of the Oakland Adult and Career Education, a program of the Oakland Unified School District.

In the 2005-2006 school year, Oakland Adult and Career Education taught ESL to about 7,000 students and GED preparation to over 600 students.