Much diversity, no identity

By LANE LAMBERT
The Patriot Ledger

RANDOLPH - At 2:30 each afternoon, the trickle of students leaving Randolph Community Middle School becomes a flood, as hundreds of youngsters from around the world head home.

Principal John Sheehan watches them as they hurry past his office.

“They’re from Vietnam,” he says of a pair of girls. “She’s from Cameroon. She’s Haitian. I think he’s from Egypt.”

Randolph’s 21st-century diversity is perhaps best personified by the middle school’s students, which include the children of lifelong residents and youngsters who have been in the United States for a short time.

At the same time, the challenges posed by such diversity can be most sharply seen here, namely in the frustrated efforts to get immigrant parents to participate in their children’s education.

With a minority population that is 33 percent and rising, Randolph has in some ways become two communities, with peaceful but minimal contact between townies and others. Some immigrants have lived here for a decade or longer, and share ethnically mixed neighborhoods. But that’s not the rule.

“We co-exist,” said lifelong resident Nancy Berman.

“We don’t know each other,” agreed one community activist.

Political, cultural divide

As Randolph has grown more diverse, its town boards have become less so. The only two minority selectmen Randolph has ever had were defeated in recent elections: Paul Fernandes, the first black on the board, was ousted this spring. Dan Lam, a Chinese-born Cambodian immigrant, lost in 2006, after nine years in office.

Those defeats have left the town without any minority representation at any level.

School officials and community leaders cite a variety of reasons for the social divide. Many Haitians and others are still more involved with their old neighborhoods in Boston, Brockton and elsewhere. Some left countries where political or social activity is discouraged or even risky. Like non-immigrant young professionals, some move away after a few years, without ever putting down roots.

Plus, many immigrants work two, three, even four jobs to pay the bills and their children’s school fees, some sending money abroad to extended family back home.

Those demands leave little time for school or town meetings, even for immigrants who want to get more involved, according to the Rev. Godwin Kalu, the Nigerian-born pastor of the International Assembly of God.

His congregation is mostly Nigerian, with a significant number of Cambodian and Caribbean natives. While most are naturalized American citizens, “some are new (to the town), and just trying to find their feet,” he said.

The situation is similar among Southeast Asian parishioners at St. Bernadette’s Church, which now has a Vietnamese priest.

‘Not better or worse’

There have been outreach efforts aimed at immigrants. Last year the Randolph Community Middle School PTO planned a series of ethnic-themed meetings, starting with an Asian Night.

“We really tried to get the word home, through the students,” co-president Evelyn Ho said. When only a handful showed up, the PTO scaled the program back to a single multicultural event, and dropped the $10 PTO fee, to make the group more attractive to those with limited income.

Such ventures have become increasingly urgent for Ho and others in recent years, as more immigrant students have enrolled.

The Randolph Community Partnership offers English instruction to scores of immigrants every year. The current waiting list for those courses is six months or longer - one sign that the recently arrived intend to stay.

For school committee chairman and town native Larry Azer, such statistics confirm that Randolph has been changing for a while.

“It’s not better or worse,” he said. “Just different.”

But he has no more precise a prescription than other community leaders for bridging the town’s divides.

“We have to overcome the barriers ... and engage everybody,” he said.

“Maybe we should go to them,” added Sheehan, the middle school principal, suggesting the PTO and other groups hold meetings in neighborhoods, rather than ask immigrants to come to them.

For Rabbi Loel Weiss, Temple Beth Am’s spiritual leader and a resident for 20-plus years, Randolph’s troubles and their solution circle back to the schools, “the last place in this country where everybody comes together.”

“This town is a microcosm of how this country is going to deal with a multicultural society,” he said. “If it succeeds in Randolph, it will succeed in this country.

“It’s not going to be easy,” he said. “(But) it has to work.”

Lane Lambert may be reached at llambert@ledger.com.