People: From Brazil

The administrative assistant sets up the conference phone and computer for a webinar.  A quick scan of the room reveals the classroom camera is turned toward the wall.  I've chosen to stay for two classes in order to fulfill the ever present requirements in keeping my family fed.  There are three for the first class, and just two of us for the second class.  I appreciate the chance to passively listen.

With the phone on mute, and the camera facing away we talk softly through the second class.  She's from Brazil.  Her brothers tell her to go back, that life would be easier for her if she goes back.  They tell her this always.  She doesn't want to go back.  She tells me there is no one there for her.  Her brothers, they are here.  They have families.  She asks if I have a family and I tell her that I have three kids.  Am I married?  Yes, but she is not.  She is divorced, and he is in Brazil.  Why go back if he is there?  She shows me the laminated card certifying her as a United States citizen.  She belongs here now.  I agree.  Even if its harder for her here, she belongs to the US.  I belong to the US and its hard for me too.  We have that in common.  Her brothers, they tell her to go back, but why?  They are here, and they are her family.  Her mama and her father too, are buried in the cemetery near here.  Why go back to nothing?  She asks if my mother is here?  I feel slightly embarrassed, my mother lives further north in Idaho, I explain.  But I see her often?  Again, I'm embarrassed, no, I haven't seen her in more than a year.  I qualify that we talk on the phone quite a bit.  My father?  No, he died nearly 14 years ago. I have no brothers, and my sisters aren't here either.  "Alone?"  Yes, and I feel regret admitting that.

She would work any job, dishwashing, cleaning, hard work, anything, but she "has no good English," and people won't hire her.  She's right, I struggle to listen carefully, and understand her. I have a terrible ear for her Portuguese accent, and I apologize and tell her I don't hear well.  Its my own fault for being a completely homogenized person who has never been challenged to learn more than rudimentary Spanish.  She shouldn't feel worse simply because I'm uneducated.  She understands English and Portuguese; I can order chicken in an American-Mexican restaurant.  Its easier though to just say I don't hear well, than to point out I'm not smart enough to listen well.

The next time we see each other we grin at each other like children who have gotten away with something.  I admire her, she possesses a sweetness and a fierceness that I'm not sure I would have if I were in her shoes. She's brave, and I can only wonder if I would have that same courage if faced with the same circumstances.