In dozens of languages, Tukwila now means 'home'

In a classroom where during the day teenagers are taught Pacific Northwest history, an assortment of adults has gathered in the evening to learn English so that they, too, may stake a claim to the region.

They are recent immigrants from Ethiopia, Sudan, Vietnam, Cambodia and Iraq, and they have found themselves together in, of all places, Tukwila, on the second floor of the only high school in town. They are students in the advanced class of an adult-literacy program of the city of Tukwila and the Tukwila School District.

Down the hall, the beginners class — two grandmothers from Somalia, a mature couple from Albania and two young mothers from Sudan — pays close attention as the teacher points to different parts of her body. They repeat after her: thigh, wrist, toes, forearm, nose, mouth. The students seem to have mastered the word lips, which the teacher emphasizes by making a kissing noise. Some things are universal.

The 10-year-old adult-literacy program is just one way Tukwila has responded to a recent population shift that has revolutionized the city.

Once known mainly for the Southcenter shopping mall and various strip-mall tributaries, Tukwila in the past 10 years has been transformed into the Puget Sound area's global village.

Numbers from the U.S. Census Bureau, released this week, cite Tukwila as leading the way among larger Washington cities experiencing dramatic increases in the number of foreign-born residents. In 1990, one in 14 Tukwila residents claimed a country other than the U.S. as their place of birth. In 2000, that ratio had soared to 1-in-4.

Other South King County communities, including SeaTac, White Center, Kent and Renton, also saw significant increases in foreign-borne residents in the '90s.

Tukwila, with a population of 17,000, also experienced one of the biggest increases in the state of residents who regularly speak a language other than English at home. In 1990, the city's ratio was 1-in-10. In 2000: 1-in-3.

According to statewide statistics, more than 10 percent of all Washingtonians in 2000 were born in a foreign country, up from less than 7 percent in 1990. King County's foreign-born population was 15 percent, compared with 9 percent in 1990. More than half cite Asia as their region of birth, followed by Europe at 24 percent.

The two cities with the highest percentage of foreign-born residents are in Eastern Washington: Sunnyside and Pasco (35 percent and 31 percent). Of those who are foreign born, about 90 percent are from Mexico, Central America, South America or the Caribbean.

Refugee immigration is partly inciting the trend. The first wave of post-Vietnam War refugees into the Puget Sound area came from Southeast Asia. People escaping Eastern Europe and the former Soviet Union came next, followed by a relative few from the Middle East and from south Asian countries.

The latest wave, which began about five years ago, originated from Africa, particularly Somalia, Ethiopia and Sudan, said Bob Johnson, regional director for the International Rescue Committee in Seattle, a relief and resettlement agency for refugees.

An estimated 2,000 to 2,500 refugees overall come to the Puget Sound area each year, Johnson said, although fewer are expected this year because of post-Sept. 11 security for immigration.

Many recent immigrants have resettled in South King County, particularly in Tukwila and SeaTac, where rents are less expensive. The formation of an African-immigrant community in the area has helped attract more.

"Refugees come in and want to be in the same apartment house or the same neighborhood as their relatives who are already here," Johnson said.

The Census Bureau estimated the number of African-born people living in Tukwila in 1990 at seven. The 2000 estimate was 456, accounting for about 10 percent of all foreign-born residents in the city, and 3 percent of the total population. The percentage of residents born in Latin countries, including Mexico, also increased markedly in Tukwila. In 1990, they accounted for 13 percent of all foreign-born residents in the city. In 2000: 30 percent.

The city's Foster High School reflects the census numbers, principal Gary Moed said.

"You look back at our yearbooks from the late '80s and early '90s, and you see a white school," he said. "Look at our yearbook now, and you see an international school. If you walk in our hallways, you would see a United Nations of students."

Foster students hail from more than 30 countries and speak at least 24 languages. About one-quarter of Foster students are enrolled in English as a second language (ESL) classes. The entire roster of the boys' soccer team is made up of foreign-born students, players who learned the sport in their homelands of Somalia or Mexico, to name only two.

In the past 10 years, the city of Tukwila has contracted with various refugee-advocacy and resettlement agencies to help serve the city's burgeoning foreign-born population, said Evelyn Boykan, Tukwila's human-services coordinator.

"When it comes to basic needs, everyone has the same ones," Boykan said. "But there is no doubt that the limited-English-speaking population faces additional barriers."

The city of Tukwila's equity and diversity commission distributes a community guide to apartment houses and libraries that is specifically targeted to foreign-born residents.

The booklet, translated into six languages, contains 15 pages of information — everything from how to open a bank account to instructions for placing international phone calls. It lists numbers for emergency services and schools and deciphers bus routes.

"We try to include things that people new to the country might not know," no matter how rudimentary, said Lucy Lauterbach, the city staffer assigned to the commission.

For the past six years, the school district has invited parents of new students to a spaghetti dinner at the school in October. The food is a lure to introduce foreign-born parents to the American school system, said Patty Lewis Worthington, director of adult literacy for the district.

"We needed a way to inform the parents of the non-English speaking kids about where their children were going every day," she said. "In some other countries, schools are highly revered and off-limits to parents. We want them to understand that here, they are not only welcome, but we encourage their involvement."

The parents are separated into different rooms, based on the language they speak, and joined by a translator. They hear from school and city officials, who fill them in on protocols, including school-bus codes of conduct and free-lunch programs.

Worthington said typical questions asked at the dinner include: "Do you have school in the summer?" or "How much does the school bus cost?"

Some of the parents who come to the dinner end up enrolled in Worthington's adult-literacy class, she said.

"A lot of the women have never been to school before," Worthington said. "They can't read or write in their first language. They've never held a pencil."

Many African immigrants enter the U.S. with less than Abdi Arteh, who fled his home in Somalia when civil war broke out in 1990. Arteh had only the clothes he was wearing when he escaped the ravages of war — but he did possess an ability to speak English, which he had learned in school and practiced at his job at the U.S. embassy in Somalia.

Arteh, his wife and two brothers lived in refugee camps for three years before immigrating to Los Angeles in 1993. The family relocated to a SeaTac rental house in February 1994 in search of better job opportunities in the Seattle area.

"Because I knew English, I could look for jobs, fill out job applications and read maps for myself," said Arteh, now 42, who lives in Kent with his wife and two children, ages 9 and 4.

He has worked several places since moving to South King County, including a car-rental company, a poultry-processing factory and his current job at a Tukwila hotel as a bellman and driver.

"During the first few years I was here, other Somalis would come and ask me to be an interpreter or translator or help them fill out applications or explain to them where the buses were going," said Arteh, who serves on the resident council for his public-housing complex. "In the last couple years, there has been less of that. More have learned English by taking classes and so the load on me is less than what it was before."

Stuart Eskenazi: 206-464-2293 or seskenazi@seattletimes.com.