“You can turn off the television. I no watching,” read one student slowly.

“I’m not watching,” said Spitia. “Not.”

“I’m not watching, I’m not watching,” the student repeated softly, as the student next to him started reading aloud.

Down the hall, meanwhile, Rebecca Howland helped her group recite the days of the week. Her literacy class for African refugees, which is offered with Lutheran Social Services, comprised about 15 children and adults from Sudan, Burundi, Tanzania, Congo, Somalia, Liberia, and Togo.

“Saturday and Sunday. Those are the weekend days,” Howland said slowly, as she put her hands to the side of her face and bent her head in mock sleep. “That’s when we rest.”

At 11 a.m., the classes ended and many of the students smiled and nodded their goodbyes and headed off for jobs in factories or taxicabs.

“Some people have never gone to school, so it is hard for them to establish the habit of studying,” said Spitia, who holds a master’s in ESL instruction and is fluent in Spanish, English, and French. “Some are illiterate in their own language.

“But we’re also teaching school teachers, engineers, veterinarians, piano players, and statisticians,” she said. “They are working in pizzerias, washing dishes, and driving cabs.”

Four levels of language classes accommodate the variety of immigrants who call Manchester home. Amin Wani, for instance, holds a high school degree from Sudan, but could not attend college because he refused military service in the civil war. “I would have had to fight against my own people,” in southern Sudan, he said.

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