It’s bad enough coming from our warm beds into the biting winter of Omaha every morning. Imagine traveling from a jungle in Southeast Asia to Omaha, suddenly thrown into a cold, confusing new reality.

For the past several weeks, I’ve been teaching conversational English to groups of ethnic Karen refugees from Myanmar (Burma) who fled their homeland to refugee camps in Thailand because of government repression. It is from Thailand that most (if not all) of the refugees come to the United States.

Without much language or knowledge of American society, the refugees can’t find jobs other than manual labor. Many Karen have found employment with the Tyson pork-processing plant in Council Bluffs. Unfortunately, the plant is scheduled to lay off one-third of its employees come March, which will likely affect many of the Karen people.

The core of the Karen’s education in the States is learning English. According to Ferdinand de Saussure, a very influential Swiss linguist, language defines the world. Without language, there are no “signs” through which we understand each other. Though this point may be debated, there is no doubt that knowing the language of a country is essential to being a functioning member of society.

This is where the EFL (English as a Foreign Language) courses come in. I volunteer in an introductory course at Omaha Metro Community College, and all of the new adult arrivals come to us first. Some of the refugees have learned English in Thailand and test out of our class, but for the most part, there is always a new face or two sometime during the week. It is a challenge to keep track of the progress of the students, but it has forced the other volunteers and me to teach the most pertinent information for living in the States.

Last week, I focused my lessons on how to count coins and make change. It’s startling how little some of the refugees knew about something as necessary as handling money. It has to take a lot of guts to try to survive in such a different environment.

Teaching English as a foreign language is extremely humbling. I don’t think I’ve ever met a group of people who are so gentle, thankful and eager to learn as the Karen. The personalities of the students have been coming out in really lovely, entertaining ways. Last week a group of retired artists gave an art class where the students learned how to trace hearts on a sheet of paper, then water-color paint the hearts. It was clear that many of the refugees had never seen anything like it, but they experimented with the color and water, just like we all did when we learned to paint. It was the first time I’ve seen grown men water-color paint hearts, and I hope it won’t be the last.

Incorporating the Karen refugees into American society will be an on-going struggle, as many do not have the skills to obtain higher-level jobs. There is also the struggle of holding onto their ethnic heritage while learning Western culture.

A few weeks ago, one of the Karen men told us that his son’s elementary school teacher was forcing him to change his son’s name to sound more Western. In a Saussurian world where language defines identity, how is a 7-year-old Karen refugee supposed to react when a teacher suddenly renames him? Is he suddenly American? Is he less Karen? Is he different now from his parents? Americans really need to thoughtfully consider English as the lingua-franca of the majority of the world. It is a both a great blessing and a great responsibility to native English-speakers.

Teaching a language is so interesting. It is chaotic and it keeps you on your feet, ever more aware of the world.