Edgar was new in the school. His family recently had emigrated from Central America and had come to join Edgar's father who had been working in the USA for the past several years. While he still struggled with English, Edgar was learning quickly by listening to what people said and how they said it.
One day early on Edgar arrived in the school cafeteria before other kids and unknowingly sat a table that was the hang-out for some of the popular, senior guys. When they descended on the table Edgar felt uncomfortable but tried to be friendly using his best English skills.
Without saying a word the guys let him know he was in the wrong place. As they sat down around Edgar one of the guys started quizzing him about who he was and why was he sitting at "their" table. Edgar spoke up and said he was new. He really liked this school and being in America because he wanted to study electronics. The guys smirked and muffled their laughter at this "outsider" who had invaded their domain.
Edgar felt a tap on his shoulder. It was a teacher who wanted to talk to him about getting into an ESL course. Edgar stood up and moved away from the table to talk to the teacher, leaving his books and backpack on the table in the middle of the guys. In his absence the guys took turns rattling off one-liner slams about this "refried bean taco" they found sitting at their table. They made fun of his glistening black hair, his soft body, and his heavy accent. This little "overstuffed burrito" was going to study "eeee-leck-trooon-icks." They howled with laughter.
When Edgar returned the senior guys had removed his chair and slid his books to the very edge--ready to crash to the floor with the slightest jiggle of the table. Edgar got the message. He would have to find another table for lunch today. As he reached for his books one of the senior guys spoke loudly, "If you are going to live in America, you had better learn to speak English."
Edgar's head pulled straight up. "I am learning," he said. "I carry my recorder with me all day. At night I listen to what American guys say to me. I learn to speak like them." With that he pulled a thin, compact recorder off the top of his backpack. His finger pushed the play button. "Today, I learn from you," he said as the words spoken by the guys while he was away from the table came echoing out the small speaker. Each nasty word and slur had found its place on the recording. Edgar didn't need ESL to understand what the recorder had recorded. Each word dimmed the brightness in his face. Edgar's head went down. Some of the seniors at the table started hanging their heads, too. They hadn't expected to be recorded.
(taken from page 45-46 in The Wounded Spirit Leader's Guide)
