For immigrants,
the BOSS wants to help

By Lauren Fritsky
Times Staff Writer

Celso DeSouza left the Northeast so that he could get some rest.
It wasn’t for noisy neighbors or traffic that the 57-year-old Brazilian immigrant moved to a house in Upper Darby from Lawndale a few years ago. It was because his phone constantly buzzed with calls from Brazilians living in the Northeast who needed his help.
"If I lived here, I wouldn’t sleep," he said.
DeSouza unwittingly became the "go-to" guy in the Northeast’s strong Brazilian community, visible these days in the brightly colored restaurants and retail stores that line Castor and Bustleton avenues.
But there is also a part of the roughly 10,000-member community that remains invisible — the illegal Brazilian immigrants who are in need of resources, DeSouza says.
So about two years ago, DeSouza started the Brazilian Organization for Social Services (BOSS) for immigrants living in the Northeast.
Run in the basement of a row home on the 7000 block of Kindred St., BOSS counsels clients on learning English, obtaining health care or securing other support to help them survive in America.
The group is funded through a small grant from the Latino Partnership, headquartered in Center City, and is still in the process of expanding to a real full-time operation.
"The aim is to be a group to the community and give them other organizations that are capable of helping them," said DeSouza, who works at a granite countertop company in Bensalem and runs another group, the Brazilian Service Center, for local business owners.
DeSouza’s partner is Corinne Thatcher, a 25-year-old West Philadelphia resident who majored in Latin American Studies in college and has spent time living in Brazil.
"It’s really a limited lifestyle here," Thatcher said of the immigration experience. "A lot of them are here on their own."
DeSouza, who is married with two grown children, immigrated to America 26 years ago. He lived for brief stints in other states, but spent much time in the Philadelphia area. Over time, he began counseling newer immigrants, many of whom are undocumented and know little English, on how to adapt to life in the States.
One of BOSS’ recent endeavors involves developing an after-school culture program at Northeast High School. Thatcher thinks the group could give immigrant students an incentive to come to school.
Pat Ryan, a coordinator for the English for Speakers of Other Languages (ESOL) program at the school, said the group would practice Brazilian dance and other activities.
"We’re always looking for ways to engage our kids," Ryan said. "The kids said they’d be into it. I know we have so much diversity here. So many kids come here from other countries."
While she says they try hard in class, Ryan said some of her foreign students often skip school because of language barriers and general frustration over their circumstances.
"They are not behavior problems. They just don’t come to school," Ryan said.
Northeast resident Marilia Batista works with Ryan as a bilingual counselor at the school. She estimates that about 100 Brazilian students attend Northeast High.
"They come (to school) really scared. They’re really lost. You come to a school where no one speaks your language. You’re trying to say something in your language and no one understands you," said Batista, who also counsels at Solis-Cohen Elementary, Baldi Middle and George Washington High schools.
Thatcher tries to break the language barrier by teaching English to Brazilian residents at their homes or in the BOSS office. On one Wednesday night in January, she worked with two males in their 20s who wished not to be identified.
One of the students, a dark-skinned man wearing a cap, smiled and asked Thatcher a series of questions using "to be" verbs: "Do you have a husband?" and "Are you cold?"
Both students admitted that they didn’t do their homework before class, which they’ve been attending for six months.
When asked why, the one with the black cap said, "No time. Work." The men work 12-hour days performing construction-related jobs like painting. Other immigrants work in housecleaning, Thatcher said.
After work, time is spent relaxing in front of the television or talking on the phone with loved ones back home.
The other student, a light-skinned man with a black jacket, says he spends his time at home with his 4-year-old son and 1-year-old daughter.
"His son is bad," says the other student in broken English, chuckling.
DeSouza knows that many of the residents that Thatcher tutors are smart, but says they are limited in the types of jobs they can get.
"A lot of these people have education and jobs, but that’s what’s available for undocumented workers," DeSouza said.
DeSouza is working with the Philadelphia Commission on Human Relations along with a ministry group in Northern Liberties to further reach out to Brazilian immigrants. He also helps to get more funding for BOSS.
He says one of his long-term goals includes bridging the gaps between the Brazilian community and longtime Northeast residents.
The two groups have sometimes clashed over issues like the Brazilian Festival, which takes place each year on Castor Avenue in the 2nd Police District. Residents have complained that the event brings too much noise and nuisance behavior to the streets.
"You have to respect the history of the neighborhood," DeSouza said. "This is a bedroom community. It is not Center City."
Still, Thatcher, who plans to contact local community groups regarding their concerns about the Brazilian community, believes BOSS can continue to grow and serve may local residents.
"It’s interesting being in the beginning of an organization, not the end," she said. "We want to be grassroots. We don’t want to come in acting like we know what all the problems in the community are." ••
For more information on BOSS, visit its Web site at www.brazilserv.org or call 215-744-2599.
Reporter Lauren Fritsky can be reached at 215-354-3038 or lfritsky@phillynews.com