Jennifer Kriksciun
In less than an hour, the quiet stillness of Hartford Public
Library fills with local Karen, preparing for the New Year celebration later
that morning. Girls draped in colorful
woven skirts and scarves shuffle quickly in and out of the women’s room in groups
to check their outfits and talk. In the
venue, the Center for Contemporary Culture a group of Karen young men practice,
dressed in traditional native Karen clothing.
One plays the electric guitar while another plays a modern drum kit. The
music they play sounds more like modern rock music and I nod my head in both
surprise and appreciation.
When I look around, the room itself has been transformed overnight
and now, along the front of the room hangs a massive banner announcing this
year’s Karen New Year celebration. It is multi-colored and impressive, taking
up the whole length of the wall, with large letters cut out, spelling out the
celebration in two languages. The room gradually gets busier and busier.
Members of the Karen
community come in carrying large containers of rice, soup, and other
traditional foods. Soon the air fills
with the smells of foods that seem oddly familiar to me yet a little exotic. One after another, like an organized assembly
line, the food is set up in a buffet-style fashion in the American Place. I peek at the foods, mostly shades of green
and browns- and it’s hard to figure out what the food is and as a vegetarian, I
feel wary to try them. There is no one around tell me the ingredients so I stay
safe with sweet brown rice wrapped in banana leaves.
It is here that I spy
Shinning. Sitting quietly to the left of
the eating area on a library stool, she reads a picture book. It seems as if the library shelves are
swallowing her, I think. I ask if I can take her picture and Shinning
(pronounced “shining”, this could not be a mistake!) looks up from her book,
smiles shyly at first, then broadly, and nods yes. I ask her to keep reading,
explaining that I want to capture her reading, maybe for the website, I say. I
snap away for several minutes, taking pictures of this little girl from various
angles as she continues to read the book I will later find out is about
colonists coming to settle in America. These are the kinds of books you find in
this part of the library. She doesn't quite understand this so I explain what
the American Place space is all about, what people use the space for, and why
these books are here. I think she gets it but I don’t know if she’s learned
about the colonists in school, so she doesn't exactly see the connection with
colonists and being American. I guess we’ll save that lesson for another day.
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Shinning is seven years old. She is, as most of the people
visiting the library here on this New Year’s Day celebration, a Karen refugee.
She came to the United States when she was just a year old with two older
brothers, her mother, grandmother, and some other family members. You can see
that she has benefited from her American education. I ask her about school and she beams proudly
that she loves school, especially math. “I want to be a doctor,” she says
confidently and I can’t help but believe this will become true.
Later, we walk around together and she tells me how she her
mother and grandmother don’t speak English at all and she often has to speak for
them. I nod that I understand and ask how she feels about that; she replies
that she does her best. It’s all that she knows so there is nothing to think
about. It’s then that we are interrupted with the beginning of the celebration.
At the entryway to the Center, I see a group of young Karen holding flags,
waiting to walk proudly in a flag procession. I try to shuffle Shinning towards
the Center but she doesn't want to go.
Why? I ask her. She wants to go
read her book.
I leave her as I inside to watch the Karen celebrate the
first day of their New Year, beginning with a blessing from a local Karen
minister and the singing of the Karen flag song. As I watch the traditional dances, the
reenactments of various rituals, I keep thinking about Shinning who is so happy
to be taking advantage of a little quiet time to read. I sneak out a few times
and every time I walk by her, she has her head in a book. She seems unfazed by
the celebration going on around her, and though I’m thrilled to see a budding
book worm, in this great library nonetheless, I wonder if I should I feel
sadness that she’s rejecting an important cultural celebration. Later, when I
leave the event, I say good bye to her and remind her to come visit the library
as often as she can. I tell her I am so happy to have met her and that I hope
she continues to love school and math and she smiles at me. Her mom and
grandmother are at her side and I say thank you to them and smile, wondering if
they see the same little girl I have just met.
