In Springfield, chaos, bomb threats and an English class
SPRINGFIELD, OHIO—At a low, squat building housing a Haitian community center in this small city, the Federal Bureau of Investigation has arrived to investigate menacing phone calls telling the immigrant community here to get out.
But a few rooms over, attention has turned to more immediate concerns: how to pronounce “refrigerator.”
The syllables mash together, ground up by the five Haitian students seated in front of the white board as they try to flex muscles in their mouth they’ve never thought about before.
The local volunteers putting on English class are part of a different side of Springfield, which has been drawn into the national spotlight after rumors about immigrants spiraled into bomb threats and harassment.
As the class goes through parts of a house, they find an easier time with “cabinet,” as singsong, Creole-accented cries of “cab-i-net” light up the room.
“I just want to help,” says Hope Kaufman, the retiree leading the class. “It’s hard to be thrown into a new culture, with a new language. If there’s something I can do, even if it’s little, that’s what I want to do.”
This mostly white city in the American Midwest has seen a boom in population in recent years, fueled mostly by Haitians attracted by its economic revival, and new businesses happy to attract laborers.
National spotlight
But frustrations over growing pains—in a city with less than 60,000 people in 2020 where some 10,000 to 15,000 Haitians have since arrived—eventually spiraled into reports of immigrants stealing and eating people’s pets, putting the city in the national spotlight.
None of that chaos, however, is present during the hour-long class, as Kaufman and her colleagues add words to the white board, quizzing the Haitians on “sinks,” “couches” and “closets.”
“In my living room, I have more than one chair,” she says, explaining, with a smile, the difference between plural and singular.
“Okay,” deadpans student Edougie Joseph, his eyes locked on the board, laser-focused on the lesson.
With nervous giggles, the students then draw cards for a memory game—which quickly goes off the rails when they insist on sharing their answers and helping each other.
‘Poetic’ vocabulary
“I live in this country, and if you don’t speak English, you can’t work, you can’t express yourself to people,” says Joseph, a factory worker.
But it’s not easy.
“The most difficult is refri … refrigere,” Yranor Estime says, before giving up on “refrigerator.”
But “cabinet,” he adds, “is poetic.”
Eventually the hour is up. Much of the house has been conquered, from “stoves” to “sofas.”
Up next week: the bathroom.
