In other words

Anam, 14, sits in front me and smiles expectantly. Her eyes are lined with a soft kohl and her ankles are neatly crossed under her. "I've been in Canada since March 17, 2006." She says precisely. "I came from Pakistan."

She bites her lip, worried she's giving me the wrong answers. "When first I came, I was told to go to student services, but I didn't understand what this "student services" meant... I asked some Pakistanis and they laughed and said I should speak English... I felt very sad and I came home crying. My mother said, "you'll learn and you'll show them.'"


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Tariq, 14, used to be able to write in Urdu but has forgotten most of the alphabet since he immigrated from Pakistan five years ago. His hair is neatly swept to the side and his voice gradually gets more excited as we talk.

In 2008 his parents will send him back to Pakistan to learn Urdu and perhaps, if he's still interested, enroll him in a military academy. "My father was in the navy," he says proudly. "I want to join the army, not the navy, not the military, Miss, the army." I ask him if he's scared about war and he shakes his head emphatically, no. "I've been watching movies; I'm not scared, I'm ready! And this school [in Pakistan] teaches everything Miss! How to move," he breaks off, fighting the air with his hands. "...Everything!"


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Ivana, 14, is from Slovakia. She's wearing a pretty white top with pink flowers blossoming just under her collar and sleeves. "I speak Slovak and English, and a little bit of Czech," she says. "Oh!" she giggles, "And a little bit of Ukrainian too." Surprised, I ask her why she knows Ukrainian. She smiles, shrugging her shoulders till they reach her ears, "My friend is Ukrainian and I wanted to speak to her in her language."


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Amritpal, 14, ducks his head shyly. His hair is tightly wrapped in a black turban and his sneakers peak out from under blue jeans. His father works in a factory "somewhere in Albion" and his mother stays at home.His voice, barely audible, whispers, "I was very shy when I came here [from India], I didn't want to speak in case someone laughed at me." Moments later his face brightens and his legs dangle under the table he's sitting on. "Miss?" he says to the ESL teacher handing back grades, "Who beat me, Miss?"