Firefighter works for language literacy

06/28/2007

BY JORDAN FENSTER , Editor

How did a veteran firefighter wind up opening a language education nonprofit organization?
"Because I'm not your typical firefighter," Wayne Parks replies.
Drive less than half-a-mile past the Fairfield border on Fairfield Ave. and a glance to the right might reveal the Quick Start Language Center. Located in a somewhat nondescript building, the storefront is recognizable by the huge white letters in both English and Spanish: "Aprenda Ingles aqui, gratis," and "learn any language, free."
The Quick Start Language Center is the brainchild of Wayne Parks, a 17-year veteran of the Fairfield Fire Department and, speaking to him, the struggle to get the place up and running and the hope he has for the future are both apparent.
"I didn't come this far to have it fail," Parks said.
It wasn't his work as a firefighter but his experiences in the construction field that encouraged Parks to start the language center. When it comes to native English speakers in the construction business, "The pool is so shallow of qualified guys."
"But the pool is very deep with non-English speaking guys," he said. "And they get taken advantage of."
Where a native English speaker might know and demand his or her rights, Parks has seen immigrants with little or no command of the English language work far more hours and under much worse conditions than is customary.
"They're not going to get ahead," he said. "They're going to be a drain on themselves and the economy."
The idea is simple: A room full of computers, each loaded with a variety of language-education programs. The full course of a self-run language class is 90 half-hour sessions and the promise, at the course's completion, is a good handle on almost any language.
But what makes the language center unique is the specifics. There are no structured classes, so a person can work at their own pace and on their own schedule. It's on a drop-in basis, so no appointment is necessary. It's open late nights and on weekends so working people can make it in without a problem and according to Parks' design, it's on the Coastal Link bus line, so it's accessible.
Since opening its door last year, response has been considerable. There has been no advertising whatsoever, so the three-dozen people the center gets on a regular weekly basis is pretty impressive.
The non-profit venture is costing Parks $5,000 a month out of pocket and, at present, he's doing almost all the work himself. He is looking for volunteers but, at present, it's strictly a family affair. Parks' 19-year-old daughter, Amanda, is a fixture at the center when she's not in classes at Fairfield University, and his 15-year-old son Nicholas helps out when he can, bringing along a small cadre of friends.
But the question arises: How long can he keep this up? The center is looking for a grant writer at present, "someone who will work on a commission basis," Parks said, but until then the center is a continual drain on Parks' funds.
"The first thing that I'm gonna do is lose my house," he said, though, characteristically, he followed that statement up with a note of hope.
"This is important," he said. "I'll get by."
And for Parks, his reasons for keeping the nonprofit running are obvious - they're in the faces of the clients who takes advantage of the center.
"The people who come by are so grateful," he said.
But even more viscerally, there is something essentially human to Parks about this venture.
"Communication is key," he said. "If we're not communicating, we're not resolving anything."