The students — mostly Karen and Somali refugees ranging in age from their teens to their 60s — sit around the table at Vietnamese Social Services of Minnesota, learning language building blocks they hope will lead to jobs and a better life.
"What color is your marker?" teacher Cliff Huff asks each of his 20 pupils.
"Red," says one.
"Yellow," says another.
"Blue," says the next.
In another classroom in this two-story building in St. Paul's Frogtown neighborhood, a more advanced class listens to the lyrics of a country song. Instructor Sheilah Seaberg asks them recite, spell and discuss words like "destiny" and "tears" and "prison."
Decades ago, Pham risked his own home by taking out a mortgage — money he was never repaid — to keep the center and its elder care, job training and English classes going. As chairman of the board of the Vietnam Center and Vietnamese Social Services, he didn't hesitate. After all, this was a man who not only got his family out of South Vietnam when it fell, but who also helped the families of 200 co-workers escape.
Later, when Vietnamese refugees became more successful, Pham helped revise his organization's mission to assist new arrivals from other countries. He kept working, even after being diagnosed with prostate and colon cancer.
