A Photovoice Study of the Relationships and Tensions Among the Home, Community, and School Linguistic and Social Practices of Cambodian and Guatemalan Youth

Cambodians and Guatemalans have a similar history of forced migration to the United States to escape state-supported violence, genocide, starvation, and poverty (Smith-Hefner, 1993; Menjívar, 2008), yet the U.S. Government has treated each group differently, granting refugee status to Cambodians, but forcing most Guatemalans to enter the U.S. without proper documentation (Feuerherm & Ramanathan, 2016). Although Guatemalan and Cambodian youth make up a significant portion of the Eagle City Public Schools (ECPS) population, their linguistic and social strengths and concerns often go unrecognized due to the essentializing (Delgado & Stefancic, 2001) of the two groups into the aggregate racial categories of “Hispanic or Latino” and “Asian,” respectively. The limited scholarly research on these two groups suggest that both groups are criminalized as gang members (Ngo & Lee, 2007; Chhuon, 2014) or as “illegal” immigrants (UNHCR, 2014); and assumed to be non-American based on phenotype, name, or language (Ngo & Lee, 2007; Ek, 2009). The current focus on accountability in schools with testing conducted only in English further marginalizes the languages and experiences of these groups and legitimizes the deficit view of bilingualism, despite the wide recognition of the social, cognitive, emotional, and economic benefits of bilingualism. This study was designed to provide a counterstory to this deficit view of Cambodian and Guatemalan youth, and to instead draw out the community cultural wealth (Yosso, 2005) found in their respective communities. Using a critical race theory (CRT) framework (Delgado & Stefancic, 2001) and Photovoice methodology (Wang & Burris, 1997; Wang, 2006), I engaged Cambodian and Guatemalan youth as co-researchers using photography and discussion to critically analyze the linguistic and social practices in their home and community and to make education policy recommendations to create more valuable learning experiences in school. I conducted these as two parallel studies in Eagle City, a medium-sized urban New England school district: one with second generation Cambodian American youth (born in the U.S. to refugee parents) in a youth-led community organization, and the other with Guatemalan youth, who arrived as part of the wave of unaccompanied youth in 2014 (UNHCR, 2014) to reunite with family, in a school setting outside of the traditional school day. Upon conclusion of the two studies, the two groups held a joint photo gallery walk at City Hall, where youth engaged in discussion regarding their photos and presented their educational recommendations to the mayor, education officials, and the general public. Through the discussion of their photos, the youth demonstrated a richness of untapped community cultural wealth (Yosso, 2005), which includes aspirational, linguistic, familial, social, navigational, and resistant capital, and what Pérez-Huber (2009) calls spiritual capital. The findings suggest that a variety of demographic and contextual factors affect the development of the various forms of capital, and of resistant capital, in particular. In their recommendations, the Cambodian youth call for Ethnic Studies classes that include the real history of the American war in Southeast Asia, Khmer language classes, and language access for families. The Guatemalan youth, call for smaller class sizes, bilingual teachers in the content areas, healthier meals in school, cleaner school facilities, more adequate transportation, and a school location and schedule that allow a better balance between school and work.


Introduction
According to the U. S. Census Bureau (2000), in the ten-year period from 1990 to 2000 there was a 41.3% increase in Rhode Island's (RI's) population of foreignborn residents. This sharp increase makes the need for creating spaces to promote and foster linguistic and cultural diversity, and in Ofelia García's words to make "bilingualism the norm," all the more critical. In 2010, over 20% of Rhode Islanders spoke languages other than English at home, the most prevalent languages being Spanish or Spanish Creole (109,008), Portuguese or Portuguese Creole (31,006), French or French Creole (19,229), Chinese (6,960), Italian (6,354), and Khmer (3,721). Nearly a quarter (22%) of all school-aged RI children resided in homes in which languages other than English were spoken (U.S. Census Bureau, 2010), yet opportunities for students to simultaneously develop a home language and English in school are limited. With the launch and continued implementation of the Rhode Island Roadmap to Language Excellence (Papa, Berka, & Brownell, 2012), a strategic plan for language education to meet the needs of business and government, there is hope for making bilingualism the norm in RI. This paper explores the policies and ideologies affecting language education in Rhode Island, where as a result of the Roadmap, groups are working at the grassroots level towards the implementation of dual language immersion in all public school 4 districts. Dual language immersion programs are on the rise nationwide, most notably in Utah since the passage of Senate Bill 41 in 2008, which funded the implementation of such programs. Since the efforts in both Utah and Rhode Island are driven by the linguistic needs of business and government, minoritized languages 1 may be at risk of further loss due to the lack of emphasis on these languages by employers.
In their analysis of the shift in media discourse in the Utah case, Valdez, Delavan, and Freire (2014) named this a shift from an equity/heritage (EH) framework to a global human capital (GHC) framework, which in Ruiz's (1984) terms would be a shift from a language as right to a language as resource discourse. Using the case of two distinct linguistically and racially minoritized groups, Cambodians and Guatemalans, I argue that Rhode Island, as Valdez and colleagues suggest, might "counter the overpowering GHC value discourses by framing a GHC policy framework alongside rather than at the expense of an EH policy framework" (p. 28) using the critical race theory concept of interest convergence.
In so doing, I demonstrate how the experiences of Guatemalan and Cambodian youth in schools show the necessity of framing the EH discourse within the GHC discourse. Many Cambodians and Guatemalans came to the United States (U.S.) after being forced to leave their home countries to escape genocide, poverty, starvation, and violence ), yet the U.S. Government has treated them differently, granting refugee status to Cambodians, but by-and-large forcing Guatemalans to enter without proper documentation (Feuerherm & Ramanathan, 2016). In the U.S. both groups are rendered invisible in many policy debates due to 5 the essentializing of Cambodians and Guatemalans into the broad racial categories of Asian and Hispanic or Latino, respectively. The CRT frame provides the lens through which to unpack this essentialization, and draw attention to the experiences and languages of Cambodians and Guatemalans in the context of RI public education.

Theoretical Framework
In this paper, I use critical race theory (CRT) as a lens through which to apply the GHC and EH frameworks to the case of Cambodians and Guatemalans in Rhode Island. In the field of education, critical race theory is used as an influential theoretical framework through which to expose the racial inequities that are pervasive in the educational system and to challenge the assumption that the White racial experience is and should be the standard . CRT also acknowledges the intersectionality of the layers of subordination based on gender, race, class, immigration status, language, surname, phenotype, accent, and sexuality; in other words class oppression alone cannot account for gender oppression and so forth (Solórzano & Yosso, 2002).
In analyzing shifts in language education policy as it affects linguisticallymarginalized groups, such as Guatemalans and Cambodians, I refer to four of the themes of CRT : essentialism, interest convergence, differential racialization, and the unique voice of people of color. Essentialism is the reducing of a complex issue or population into a simple term, for example labeling all Asians the "model minority". Interest convergence is the idea that civil rights gains for People of Color happen only when they coincide with the interest of elite Whites. 6 Differential racialization is the idea that society racializes different groups at different times, depending on the historical context. In order to challenge the dominant ideology, CRT emphasizes the importance of the unique voice of color. The unique voice of color in this case will be the voices of Cambodians and Guatemalans in Rhode Island. Valdez, Delavan, and Freire (2014) define the equity/heritage (EH) framework as one "centered on responding to the needs of ELs and other minoritized communities" and a global human capital (GHC) framework as focused "solely on producing multilingual workers to compete in the global marketplace" (p. 5). They explain that each of these frameworks is a combination of EH and GHC value discourses, which they see as "competing value discourses that are already operating within U.S. language policy that shift in dominance to lead people to conceptualize these policies' benefits in particular ways and for particular students" (p. 5). In the case of language education policy, the EH framework and value discourse is focused on creating equitable educational opportunities for emergent bilinguals and other linguistically minoritized students, while the GHC framework focuses on preparing all students for the global workplace. Flores (2016) cautions that the push for bilingual education for all may actually reproduce hegemonic Whiteness, shifting from monolingual to bilingual hegemonic Whiteness. I argue that these competing discourses can actually work in collaboration for the mutual benefit of linguisticallyminoritized and linguistic majority students through interest convergence. Viewing the EH and GHC policy frameworks through a CRT lens, the EH primarily benefits students of color, while the GHC primarily benefits White, middle-class students.
7 While Valdez, Delavan, and Freire argue that the shift to the GHC discourse is a "policy trend that promotes the teaching and learning of language skills for the sole purpose of supporting the global marketplace" (p. 6), I argue that this is not its "sole purpose," but rather a compelling way to assure that all students have access to a bilingual and biliterate education. By making dual language bilingual education (DLBE) a program for White, monolingual students, as well as for emergent bilingual Students of Color, DLBE gains more political, financial, and pedagogical support.
When DLBE is only for students learning English, when most of our official policymakers are still monolingual and do not understand or value the cognitive, social, and cultural benefits of speaking more than one language, there is a danger of risking bilingual education for all. Through interest convergence, I argue that Rhode Island can leverage the GHC discourse to raise the importance and possibility of bilingual education for all to bring the EH framework to the center of the effort to expand DLBE. In the following section, I explore policies affecting dual language bilingual education (DLBE) in Rhode Island through a CRT/GHC/EH frame.

Policies Affecting Language Education
The U.S., a nation of people of diverse linguistic and cultural backgrounds, has a long history of multilingualism, although English has been and continues to be the dominant language (Wiley, 2007). Throughout history, different languages have been racialized at different times, and power has been given to certain languages at certain times according to the interests of Whites (Schmidt, 2002;. The languages that have been most racialized are those associated with indigenous, 8 enslaved, and immigrant groups of color, while the languages of White Europeans have been the most respected. Schmidt (2002) defines racialization as a social process whose point is inequality. . . As a process, racialization works by rendering others as having certain characteristics (one of which has often been language) so foreign or 'alien' that it is impossible to conceive of being equal members of the same political community with those so racialized (p.

158).
Early on, the racialization of languages in the U. S. was done intentionally as part of the conquest and later pacification of Indigenous peoples . European languages were tolerated from the early years of the U.S. through the end of the nineteenth century. In the early twentieth century, the U.S. saw a shift toward the restriction of languages other than English.
Racialization of language is also tied to public opinion of immigration.
Throughout history, different immigrant groups have been racialized at different times depending on the political and economic context. For example, Chinese immigrants, who had been coming to the country since the mid-nineteenth century because of the Taiping Rebellion in China and the Gold Rush in California, were excluded in 1882, when the U.S. Congress passed the Chinese Exclusion Act . Japanese immigrants were also affected by this, likely due to the essentialization of the Japanese as Chinese or as Asian more broadly. More recently, with the increase in significance of China's economy, Chinese immigrants and their languages have gained stature in the U.S., as can be seen in the 195% increase in Chinese language programs in U.S. schools from -05 to 2007-08 (ACTFL, 2010. Mexican immigration increased 9 around the turn of the century, and with the additional acquisition of Hawaii in 1898, English became the language of legal documents and the education system. This English-only rule had failed in Puerto Rico by around 1916, and transitional bilingual education was established and remained in use until 1948, "when Spanish was reestablished as medium of instruction" with "English taught as a required foreign language" (García, 2009, p. 165). The unprecedented growth of the mostly Black and Brown Spanish-speaking population in the U.S. in recent years has been seen by many as a threat to the White "standard," at all levels of socioeconomic status. Darker skinned Latinos have been essentialized as "illegal immigrants" creating a negative view of the Spanish language in general (Santa Ana, 2002;Gándara & Hopkins, 2010). With this negative view of Spanish came another English-only movement.
Silicon Valley businessman Ron Unz started a campaign called "English for the Children" and sponsored California Proposition 227 in 1998, which banned bilingual education there. He was also instrumental in the passage of similar laws in Arizona (Proposition 203 in 2000) and Massachusetts (Question 2 in 2002).
Despite these fears, the U.S. Departments of Defense and State have continued to recognize the need, in the name of national security and economic competitiveness, for highly-proficient speakers of a variety of languages other than English in a variety of professional fields. This focus fits within the GHC framework, providing priority funding for languages with global economic and political importance like Chinese, Portuguese, Arabic, and Russian. Minoritized languages like Khmer (Cambodian) are also included on government lists of priority areas, but targeted funding is limited and when available requires the lead principal investigator (PI) to be from an institution of higher education, excluding community organizations from applying where expertise is more likely present.
There is extensive research to support the argument that English language learners (ELLs) who are provided the opportunity to develop and maintain their home languages are likely to develop stronger skills in English, and to even outperform their "mainstream" native English-speaking peers regardless of socioeconomic status, gender, race, ethnicity, special needs, or urban/suburban location (Cummins, 1979(Cummins, , 1998Lindholm-Leary & Hernández, 2011;Thomas & Collier, 2012). Although I caution against the potential to further marginalize minoritized languages like (Cambodian) Khmer and (Guatemalan Mayan) K'iche' in an effort to mainstream bilingual education for all students, I believe that when done thoughtfully, intentionally, and inclusively, by integrating the GHC and EH policy discourses, we can assure that all students have access to a bilingual education.
In this past decade, there has been a shift in world language education discourse at the national level, with the American Council on the Teaching of Foreign Languages (ACTFL) situating its advocacy campaigns within the GHC frame. This has included a shift towards proficiency-and performance-based language instruction with the update of the ACTFL Proficiency Guidelines in 2012, the release of the ACTFL Performance Descriptors for Language Learning in 2012, and the creation of the Oral Proficiency Levels in the Workplace document in 2015 (ACTFL, 2015).
With the GHC frame helping language education to gain traction by demonstrating proficiency gains among primarily White monolingual students in languages other than English, there seems to be an emergence of space for the inclusion of EH frame.
This was evident at the 2015 ACTFL Convention, the theme of which had a social justice focus, where I observed an increase in sessions focused on heritage language learners. ACTFL also collaborated with Teachers of English to Speakers of Other Languages (TESOL), the National Association for Bilingual Education (NABE), and the National Council of State Supervisors for Languages (NCSSFL) on the development of guidelines for the Seal of Biliteracy, which is a way to recognize bilingualism and biliteracy within both the GHC and EH frames.
In Massachusetts, groups with interest and involvement in language education formed the Language Opportunity Coalition, which has been working to reverse the effects of Question 2 with the introduction of the Language Opportunity for Our Kids (LOOK) and Seal of Biliteracy Bills in 2015. This coalition and its LOOK Bill is an example of the interest convergence of the Equity/Heritage (EH) and Global Human Capital (GHC) frameworks, as the group aims to promote the development of dual language programs for the benefit of English learners and English dominant students.
In California there is also an effort underway to repeal most of Proposition 227, through the introduction of Senate Bill 1174, known as the Multilingual Education Act, which will appear on the 2016 ballot. Unz, however, has returned to the scene, and is running for a seat in the CA Senate to fight this. Rhode Island, like Utah, developed a State Language Roadmap in 2012 that recommends for the development of dual language immersion programs in all public school districts, creating K-16 pathways in multiple languages. While the State Language Roadmaps were created as a response to business and government language needs, I believe that there is still space for the convergence of the GHC and EH frameworks in Rhode Island as well.
In the following sections, I explore this by focusing on two distinct linguistically minoritized groups in Rhode Island, Cambodians and Guatemalans, whose languages are currently not deemed critical for business or government security.

State Language Roadmaps 2
State Language Roadmaps offer a possible policy solution for language education by bringing together leaders from business, government, and education to identify and develop a response to state language needs. The concept was developed by The Language Flagship, an initiative of the National Security Education Program (NSEP), in an effort to reach beyond the undergraduate focus of The Language Flagship programs to influence change in language education at the K-12 level. The Language Flagship supports a community of programs designed to create global professionals in a variety of fields who possess Superior proficiency (ACTFL scale) in one of many languages deemed critical to national security and economic competitiveness, which currently include Arabic, Chinese, Hindi Urdu, Korean, Persian, Portuguese, Russian, Swahili, and Turkish. The Flagship model "addresses the needs of students around the nation who are motivated to gain professional proficiency in language during their undergraduate studies" in combination with a chosen field of study, and also supports efforts "to push the model down to elementary, middle, and high schools." Flagship considers the integration of language skills into K-12 education "vital to our capacity to educate a citizenry prepared to address the nation's well-being in the 21st century" (The Language Flagship, 2016).
While Flagship funding is targeted only for the aforementioned languages, these programs are also charged to be catalysts for the shift towards proficiency-based education across languages at their respective institutions.  (Papa & Berka, in press), and I continue to lead the implementation effort today.
Prior to the launch of the Rhode Island Roadmap to Language Excellence in 2012 (Papa, Berka, & Brownell, 2012), there were only three dual language bilingual education programs in RI public schools, all at the elementary level: a Spanish-English dual language immersion program in Eagle City, two-way immersion programs in Spanish-English or Portuguese-English at The International Charter School, and a developmental bilingual program for native Spanish speakers in Central Falls. One private school, the French-American School of Rhode Island, offers a PK-8 French-English dual language immersion program. In the fall of 2015, two additional districts launched Spanish dual language immersion programs, one in the suburban English-dominant South Kingstown district and one in the urban district of Pawtucket, where a large number of Spanish and Portuguese/Cape Verdean Creole speakers reside. Districts are now considering adding dual language programs in Spanish, Portuguese, and Chinese in the coming years. While this is incredibly exciting, I am afraid that the languages of smaller linguistically minoritized groups may be neglected.

The Rhode Island Context
Rhode Island is home to just over a million residents and is the smallest state in the United States. One can drive across the state in under one hour. Despite its small size, Rhode Island has 36 public school districts, not including charter schools.
They served 142,008 students in the 2013-14 school year, and of those 6% were receiving English as a second language (ESL) or bilingual education services. In the 2015-16 school year, the percentage of RI students receiving ESL/bilingual services increased to 7%. 3 The most common languages spoken by RI emergent bilinguals 15 receiving services in 2013-14 were Spanish (7,868), Portuguese-based Creoles and Pidgins (450), Portuguese (291), Khmer (171), Chinese (159), Arabic (101), and French (78) (RIDE, 2014). It is important to note that these figures do not include students who speak languages other than English who are not receiving services.
Districts typically offer or would like to offer many of these same languages in dual language bilingual education or world language programs, yet there has been little to no coordination of efforts between world language and English language education in the state. In the 2014-2015 academic year, RIDE world language enrollment data (which excludes dual language immersion enrollment) show that languages offered in RI public schools included Spanish (24,872 students), French (5,399), Italian (2,669), Portuguese (1,055), Latin (384), German (76), Japanese (76), Chinese (35), and ASL (33) (RIDE, 2015). The Rhode Island Department of Education (RIDE) currently only has 1.4 full time positions supporting the nearly 11,000 emergent bilinguals in the state and no position or state standards for world language education. RIDE has only just begun to host meetings of the two public 4-year institutions of higher education and five urban districts in the state to address the issue of teacher preparation for K-12 language education programs (with a focus on English as a second language and dual language/bilingual education certification).

Rhode Island Language Education Policy
In Rhode Island (RI), decisions regarding which world languages are offered, to whom, and for how long are made at the district or school level. There is no office within the Rhode Island Department of Education (RIDE) responsible for world language education and also no state supervisor for language education. The RIDE Basic Education Program Regulations require that the "determination of the [world language] offerings shall be based on the needs and interests of students, the community, and the global economy" and that each Local Education Agency (LEA) shall provide "Coursework in a minimum of two languages other than English at the secondary level and offerings of at least three consecutive years of the two selected languages" (RIDE Reg. G- 13-1.3.17a). LEAs are encouraged but not required to offer at least one language other than English at the elementary level (RIDE Reg. G- 13-1.3.17b). Here there is clearly space available for language education K-12, however world languages are almost exclusively taught at the high school level, and enrollment is discouraging. According to ACTFL (2010), RI public schools had an estimated 40% decrease in K-12 world language enrollment from 2004-05 to 2007-08, and only 16% of RI students in grades 6-12 were enrolled in a world language course in 2007-08. Only two districts, to my knowledge, now require all students to take two years of a language.
RI colleges and universities typically require two years of world language study for admission and include world language and culture courses as part of the general education requirements for an undergraduate degree. In most cases fulfillment of these requirements is based on "seat time," or number of hours in the classroom, rather than on proficiency. Two college semesters or three high school years of world language education would produce students with Intermediate proficiency at best. Mimi Met (1994Met ( , 2003 attributed the weak focus on world language education to an unclear purpose for the use of these skills, noting that little had changed in the eyes of policymakers in that decade. The shift in national-level discourse at ACTFL first to a GHC frame and more recently to an EH frame, most notably surrounding the release of national Seal of Biliteracy guidelines is reflected in RI as well. Rhode Island passed legislation in June 2016 that established a Rhode Island Seal of Biliteracy, which will bring the GHC and EH frames together to officially recognize the linguistic strengths of the community, including those learned at home and those learned at school. In contrast to world language education policies, policies affecting the education of English language learners (ELLs) in RI is based on the RI Board of  -4-1.5 (2010) states that these regulations are intended to "Facilitate the preservation and development of the existing native language skills of English Language Learners." This clause provides the ideological and implementational space for dual language bilingual education in RI public schools. However the majority of ELLs are in programs focusing solely on the development of academic and social English language skills.

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The Rhode Island public has recently made it known that our public schools should provide pathways for all students towards bilingualism and biliteracy in Rhode Island's Strategic Plan for PK-12 & Adult Education, 2015-2020(RI Board of Education, 2015. This five-year strategic plan was developed by a diverse group of community members from various professions, age groups, and ethnic and linguistic backgrounds, and was vetted by the wider RI community through community forums and surveys. Priority 4 of the strategic plan is to produce Globally Competent Graduates, "by increasing the number of students in high-quality, proficiency-based language programs," including world language and dual language immersion, resulting in "at least 14% earning the seal of biliteracy." Although one could argue that including language skills as part of global competence fits under the GHC framework, this priority does also call for investment in the social and emotional health of our students and building the cultural competence of students and educators, which leaves space for the integration of the EH framework. The plan recommends that RIDE develop cultural competence standards, but does not define cultural competence (RI Board of Education, 2015). Using the EH framework, RIDE could engage culturally-based community organizations in the development of cultural competency standards and professional development workshops for educators and candidates to assure that the cultures present are equitably engaged in the process.

Bilingual Education in Eagle City
Public education in the U.S. and in Rhode Island, specifically, is still very much monolingual, although the research clearly shows that a subtractive bilingual education is detrimental to the emergent bilinguals themselves, and, I would argue, to society as a whole. Ofelia  describes subtractive bilingual education this way: When monoglossic ideologies persist, and monolingualism and monolingual schools are the norm, it is generally believed that children who speak a language other than that of the state should be encouraged to abandon that language and instead take up the dominant language . . . In this model, the student speaks a first language and a second one is added while the first is subtracted (p. 51).
Until this point in Rhode Island, linguistically minoritized students, or emergent bilinguals, have been educated by-and-large in subtractive bilingual education programs. Thus, there is currently a significant population of bilingual students in Rhode Island public schools, who are not receiving ESL or bilingual services and whose home languages are not being developed. High school language courses in Spanish and Khmer for native speakers were once offered in Eagle City, but were discontinued several years ago for unknown reasons. 4 Spanish speakers often do take Spanish in high school, but they are typically not placed by linguistic ability.
Anecdotally, I have heard from teachers in Eagle City that they are not allowed to teach Spanish for heritage speakers because that would be considered "discrimination." One teacher reported that she had begun differentiating instruction for native and non-native speakers in a high school Spanish class in Eagle City, and although the students were satisfied with this arrangement and were all learning at 20 their respective paces and levels, the administration forced the teacher to revert back to offering the same instruction to all students.
The subtractive bilingualism environment, as well as the high rate of poverty and racial segregation in Eagle City Public Schools may be contributing factors in academic disengagement. Of Eagle City students who entered high school in 2009-10, 15% dropped out by the 2012-13 school year, and in that same year 36 % of high school students and 23% of middle school students were chronically absent. 5 According to RI KIDS COUNT, "The Eagle City-New Bedford-Fall River metropolitan area was the ninth most segregated metropolitan area in the nation for Hispanics in 2010" (RI KIDS COUNT, 2014). Although 16% of school-aged children residing in Eagle City were White in 2010 (U.S. Census 2010), only 9% of students enrolled in ECPS during the 2012-13 school year were White. One can see that White parents in Eagle City perceive that the quality of the public schools is unsatisfactory, and therefore choose to send their children to private schools. Implementing two-way dual language bilingual education with the goal of developing high levels of literacy in both English and another language, would certainly help to address some of the educational disparities that currently exist in RI public schools ) and may bring White students back to the public schools. Two-way DLBE programs are programs in which half of the students speak the target language at home and half speak English. As in one-way DLBE for monolingual English speakers and developmental bilingual programs for speakers of languages other than English, at least 50% of the day instruction is in the non-English language. DLBE programs have 21 brought families back to public schools in districts across the country, including the District of Columbia, Delaware, Utah, Los Angeles, and New York City (Guzman-Lopez, 2011;Zimmer, 2015;Adamy, 2016). In the following section, I explore the history and needs of two particular groups in Rhode Island, Cambodians and Guatemalans, and discuss how their languages could be developed by bringing the GHC and EH frameworks together through interest convergence.

Cambodians and Guatemalans in RI Education
According to data reported by the Rhode Island Department of Education (RIDE), Asian American students are performing very well in Rhode Island public schools. Asian American students in the cohort that entered RI public high schools in 2006 graduated in four years at a higher rate (81%) than did White students (79.3%); the rate for all students was 75.8% (RIDE, 2011). The rate for Hispanic students was significantly lower, with only 66.3% completing high school in four years. Viewing this data through a CRT frame, we see that the experiences of Cambodian and Guatemalan youth are essentialized into broad racial categories, thus rendering their experiences invisible. Delving more deeply into U.S. Census data on Cambodian and Guatemalan Rhode Islanders, we see a very different picture. More than a quarter (28.6%) of Cambodian Americans and more than half of RI Guatemalans (57.5%) between the ages of 18 and 24 in the state have not completed high school (or an equivalent) (American Community Survey, U.S. Census Bureau, 2006Bureau, -2010. While these data may also include people who entered RI after high school, the figures are still cause for alarm. RIDE's choice to collect and report educational data in these 22 aggregate racial categories masks the realities of many of our students of color, including Cambodian and Guatemalan American youth, who are not served well in the current system, providing only a deficit perspective of these emergent bilingual urban communities (Kiang, 2006). Since Cambodians and Guatemalans are essentialized into the aggregate racial categories of Asian and Hispanic/Latino, respectively, it is difficult to determine how many of them are receiving ESL or bilingual services, and also to determine the level of literacy in their home languages and English. I suspect that many Cambodian and Guatemalan youth in Eagle City Public Schools are receiving insufficient support in the development of English and their home languages due to the instability in ESL and bilingual program offerings for those who qualify for those services 6 . I speculate also that there are many Cambodian and Guatemalan youth in ECPS who have oral language abilities in their home languages, but have underdeveloped reading and writing skills in the home language, due to the fact that their English upon entrance to ECPS was strong enough to qualify them for the "mainstream."

RI Cambodian American Khmer-English Language Ability
The only data available on Khmer and English language ability among Cambodian Americans in Rhode Island is self-reported data on the U.S. Census Bureau's American Community Survey (ACS) ( Table 1) and on the Rhode Island Department of Education's (RIDE) Home Language Survey administered to parents of students receiving English language learner services. ACS data show that approximately 80% of RI Cambodian Americans speak Khmer, although the data do not reveal the level of oral proficiency or literacy in the language. A number of studies have shown that there is a significant generational language gap, however, between parents and grandparents who primarily speak Khmer and their children who primarily speak English (García Coll, et.al., 2002;Wallitt, 2008;Chhuon & Hudley, 2011;Dinh, Weinstein, Tein, & Roosa, 2012).
Most likely the 2,954 Khmer speakers aged 18-64 are the individuals completing the ACS on behalf of their children (ages 5-17) and parents (ages 65+). It is likely that many of the 871 children who speak English "well" or "very well" act as interpreters for their parents, many of the 759 Khmer speakers aged 18-64 who have limited English proficiency. Although these children may be serving as interpreters for their parents and grandparents, this does not mean that they are necessarily highly proficient in either English or Khmer. It is also interesting to note that approximately 20% of all Cambodians in RI reportedly do not speak Khmer (those missing from Table 1), an alarmingly high number of non-Khmer speakers in a relatively recently arrived group. This data supports the research that indicates an intergenerational communication gap, however more research is needed in this area.

RI Guatemalan American Spanish-English Language Ability
The only data available on Spanish and English language ability (with no data available on K'iche' ability) among Guatemalan Americans in Rhode Island is selfreported data on the U.S. Census Bureau's ACS (

Need for Data
It is evident from the data presented in this paper that there is a dire need for the critical disaggregation of data by ethnicity in order to expose the utter dichotomy between Cambodian and non-Cambodian Asians, and between Guatemalan and non- Island public schools that would help the community to better understand the issues faced. The counter-story is defined by Solórzano and Yosso (2002) as a method of giving voice to those people whose experiences are not often told. It is a tool for exposing, analyzing, and challenging the dominant stories of White privilege that is committed to social justice. Research that connects language proficiency to employment in the state is also needed. By drawing attention to the connection between home language literacy and academic achievement and later employment, the interests of government and business (GHC frame) can converge with the interests of linguistically-minoritized groups (EH frame).

Need for Bilingual Community Education
The literature on Cambodian and Guatemalan Americans in U.S. schools point to the need for greater connection between home, school, and community (Wallitt, 2008;Ek, 2009;Chhuon & Hudley, 2011

Introduction
This chapter explores the community cultural wealth  displayed by Cambodian and Guatemalan refugee-background youth in Eagle City Public Schools (ECPS), an urban school district in New England. The data derive from a youth participatory action research (YPAR) dissertation study using Photovoice methodology  on the relationships and tensions among the home, community, and school linguistic and social practices of the youth co-researchers. By focusing on the community cultural wealth (CCW) of my coresearchers, I aim to challenge the deficit discourse about emergent bilingual refugeebackground youth, and to stress that English-medium, Eurocentric education is insufficient for the full development of bilingualism and biliteracy. The analysis demonstrates that the Cambodian and Guatemalan communities possess untapped cultural wealth that could be used to transform educational practice.
Although Cambodians and Guatemalans have a similar history of forced migration to the U.S., leaving their home countries to escape genocide, poverty, starvation, and violence , the U.S. Government has treated them differently, granting refugee status to Cambodians, but forcing Guatemalans, by and large, to enter the U.S. without proper documentation (Feuerherm & Ramanathan, 2016). Cambodian and Guatemalan youth make up a significant portion of the ECPS population, however due to the essentializing of these groups into the broad racial categories of Asian and Hispanic or Latino, respectively , the voices of these youth often go unheard. The youth suggest, as does the limited scholarly research on these two groups, that both groups 35 are criminalized as gang members  or as "illegal" immigrants Feuerherm & Ramanathan, 2016); and assumed to be non-American based on phenotype, name, or language . Not only are these youth racially minoritized, but also linguistically minoritized. The current focus on high-stakes testing, conducted only in English, further marginalizes languages other than English and legitimizes the deficit view of bilingualism, even though there is great demand for multilingual skills from both the public and private sectors across disciplines. In the scholarly literature on emergent bilingual urban youth Pérez Huber & Cueva, 2012) there is little written on the experience of these two groups of youth in general, and specifically a lack of research on the linguistic and social practices of these youth.
Using a Critical Race Theory (CRT) framework and Photovoice methodology , I engaged youth as co-researchers using photography and discussion to critically examine their linguistic and social practices in the home and community, and to make education policy recommendations to create more valuable learning experiences in school. I conducted these as two parallel Guatemalan youth in the ECPS. LatCrit and AsianCrit scholars aim to deconstruct the "essential" Latina/o and Asian identities by emphasizing their respective inherent diversity, in terms of race and ethnicity, language and its suppression, religion, immigration status, class, imperialism and colonialism, and class within the "essentialized" Latina/o and Asian category Hernández-Truyol, Harris, and Valdés, 2006). By including both Guatemalan and Cambodian youth in this study, I aimed to identify patterns of different systems of subordination within and across groups to produce a better "comprehension and critique of the interlocking 37 nature of the 'different' forms of subordination that jointly and severally keep existing hierarchies and inequality in place both within and across cultures" (Hernandez-Truyol, Harris, and Valdés 2006, p. 190). The benefits of CRT are many including the production of rich, descriptive analysis of marginalized individuals that can be used to counter the dominant discourse. By using CRT and Photovoice as a form of resistance and empowerment, the youth demonstrate the CCW in their unique linguistic and social practices, and make recommendations on how we can transform educational practices for these and other marginalized groups.

Research Design
This YPAR study engaged five Cambodian and seven Guatemalan youth between the ages of 14 and 21 who attend or had attended ECPS for a minimum of one semester in a Photovoice process  to (1) document and reflect upon the linguistic and social strengths and concerns of their respective communities; (2) engage in critical discussion of the photos with the researcher; and (3) to develop a political advocacy response. In this case the political advocacy involved the development of an education recommendation document that was distributed to policymakers in a photo gallery walk at City Hall. Following Nygreen (2005), I sought to establish myself first as an ally to both groups by spending time as a participant volunteer in both locations, being cognizant and upfront about the power and privilege I carry as a White, middle-class woman from the suburbs . The Cambodian youth are all members of a youth-led community organization and the Guatemalan youth are students in a program for students with interrupted formal education (SIFE), a label that emphasizes what they lack, at one of the Eagle City high schools. Once receiving IRB approval, I recruited youth from both settings using purposeful sampling (Patton, 2002). The Cambodian co-researchers included one high school freshman, two sophomores, one junior, and one who had been pushed out and had since completed a GED. All are dominant and highly proficient in English and to some degree orally proficient in Khmer. All of the Guatemalan co-researchers had been in the SIFE program, and considered freshmen, for about a year and ranged in age from 15 to 18. All but one are bilingual in K'iche' (a Mayan language) and Spanish (and able to read and write in Spanish but not in K'iche'), and all are now learning English 8 .
Using Wang's Photovoice strategy (2006), I met weekly with each group separately, following this data collection schedule: (1) Administer language use survey and discuss responses; (2) introduce Photovoice methodology and facilitate a discussion about cameras, power, and ethics; (3) youth take photos of primary language use in the home and community, and then write about and discuss them using these guiding questions following Wang's SHOWED mnemonic: (a) What do we see here?
(b) What is really happening here?
(c) How does it relate to our lives?
(d) Why does this situation, concern or strength exist?
(e) What can we do about it? (Wang, 2006, p. 151); (4) repeat step (3) for secondary language use and then again for other language use or clarifying photos; (5) determine audience for the photo gallery walk; (6) discuss themes identified in the photos and identify priorities for the development of a policy recommendation document; (7) distribute policy document to policymakers at gallery walk. I recorded each of our group discussions using the iPhone voice memos application, which I later transcribed. After each session, I wrote field notes that included my general impressions of the session, what we did or did not accomplish, reasons for any changes in procedures, and feelings about the session.

Data Analysis and Interpretation
Using critical qualitative methods I coded the data collected in this study, which include questionnaires, transcripts of group discussion, photographs, youth writings about the photos, and researcher field notes, using Yosso's (2005)

Porque es mi familia: Aspirational and Familial Capital
Aspirational capital is "the ability to maintain hopes and dreams for the future, even in the face of real and perceived barriers" (Yosso, 2005, p. 77).  explains that aspirational capital is nurtured and passed on through social and familial networks via a storytelling tradition that allows marginalized people to "nurture a culture of possibility" (p. 78). Familial capital "refers to those cultural knowledges nurtured among familia (kin) that carry a sense of community history, memory, and cultural intuition" (Yosso, 2005, p. 79). This form of CCW involves a commitment to community wellbeing and involves expanding the concept of family to include friends and community members outside of one's biological family, in contrast to "traditional" White Euro-American individualized, racialized, classed, and heterosexualized concepts of family. This commitment was perhaps stated most 42 clearly by Luis, a 17-year old K'iché-Spanish bilingual co-researcher from El Quiché, who, when asked why he must send money home, said with conviction, "porque es mi familia (because it's my family)" (March 18, 2015). This unwavering commitment to family and community emerged in the stories and photos that both the Cambodian and Guatemalan youth shared as interconnected with aspirational capital, although there were differences between the two groups due to their different life experiences and the different structural barriers they must face. Quiché, explained that the only thing they did before coming to the U.S. was "sembrar milpa, buscar leña" (plant corn, search for firewood)," in order to feed the family (February 25, 2015). Despite the limited experience with formal education in the community, the Guatemalan youth all expressed plans to pursue higher education, whether to become a lawyer, teacher, doctor, mechanic, or politician. Because of their uncertain immigration status, they also spoke about plans to work hard in the U.S. to send money and resources back home, where they eventually plan to settle and in some cases start businesses. The youth explained that they send packages of clothing and shoes, like the one in Figure 1, to family back home about once a year. According to Marta, "shoes, jacket is beautiful here" and to Luis, "they want to use what we [have] here" (March 25, 2015). It seems that the package is more than assistance for family back home, but also a sort of symbolic aspirational capital, in that the clothing symbolizes the family's connection to the U.S. and the "American dream," a hope for a better future. This "public display of wealth and status in home" according to  is "also an indication of belonging to the select group who have been listo (clever) enough to cross two borders, survive in distant Eagle City, and send home the goods to prove it" (p. 133).

Aspiring to increase
Aspiring to (re)claim Khmer. In contrast to the Guatemalan youth, the Cambodian youth, having lived their whole lives in the U.S., spoke extensively about aspirations to reclaim their language, which they felt had been lost through their largely English-only education. Some have difficulties communicating with parents and all with grandparents due to this devastating loss of Khmer language. Most have served as linguistic and cultural brokers for family and community members throughout their lives, helping them to navigate complex bureaucratic processes, but 44 all now feel that their Khmer skills are lacking. They all expressed a deep and urgent longing to speak and read Khmer, which Ace, a 14-year-old Cambodian Guatemalan American, who identifies more as Cambodian, demonstrated in her photo in Figure 2. Ace explained how she has always wanted to read and write in Khmer because of the beauty of the script and its access to her culture, but since she has never had the opportunity, she is unsure of how to write even her own name (April 15, 2015). The youth all believe that this language loss and intergenerational language barrier can be changed for future generations and that they have a responsibility to learn the language and to pass it on to their children. Employing their resistant capital, the youth consistently noted the contradiction between language course offerings and the home languages of students in ECPS, noting specifically the lack of non-European languages offered, and urged ECPS to offer courses in the languages of the community.

Linguistic Capital
Linguistic capital "includes the intellectual and social skills attained through communication in multiple languages and/or linguistic styles" (Yosso & García, 2007, p. 160). The co-researchers all exhibited linguistic capital in how they interpret and explain for one another, negotiate meaning using multiple languages, alter their speech for different audiences and contexts, and identify linguistic challenges in their respective communities. The deficit perspective of the U.S. educational system sees these youth as lacking English language skills, and neglects to recognize the wealth of linguistic assets they possess Gándara & Hopkins, 2010 47 Their exchange shows that both Oscar and Luis recognize the usefulness of K'iche' in communicating with elders and folks in mountainous areas where Spanish is seldom spoken, and agree that it is their responsibility to help those who are monolingual in K'iche' to communicate with Spanish speakers. They also relate this ability and responsibility to interpret for elders in Guatemala to how friends in the U.S. will interpret for them when the English is too difficulty to understand. Occasionally their teacher will ask Oscar to go to the office to interpret for a newly arrived student and parent who only speak K'iche', so this skill has proven to be useful in Eagle City as well.

Spiritual Capital: Our culture is based on religion
Adding to  six forms of CCW, Pérez Huber (2009) identified spiritual capital in her research with ten Chicana undergraduate students at a top-tier research university. She defines spiritual capital as "a set of resources and skills rooted in a spiritual connection to a reality greater than oneself" and explains that this "can encompass religious, indigenous, and ancestral beliefs and practices learned from one's family, community, and inner self," which can provide a sense of hope and faith (Pérez Huber, 2009, p. 721). In our group discussions, the Cambodian co-researchers identified the importance of spiritual capital in their community, but curiously the Guatemalan co-researchers did not, although religion is a significant part of their lives.
Reptar, a 21-year-old, Cambodian American, explains, "Our culture is based on religion." One can clearly see that Buddhism has a strong presence in the lives of the Cambodian youth through their photos and discussions. The challenge to their spirituality, though, is as Reptar states, that "In order to get in touch with our culture and religion, you have to understand our language" (April 22, 2015). Although most of the youth do not go to the temple regularly, their photos are filled with prayer shrines created in their homes, activities at the temple in the community, and spiritual or religious artifacts that hold spiritual significance for them, such as the ksai-see-ma ( Figure 3). In presenting his photo of the ksai-see-ma, Reptar explains, "So, in English, it's pretty much a blessed string, brought to the evil spirits and whatnot. It's a little thing that we get taught early on. So it's, like, not really in education in America, but like, something you teach your kids about your religion." I ask if they wear them for their whole lives, which they affirm, although Reptar adds, "Mmhm, until you get arrested, then they cut it all off." The others seem surprised and offended that the police would cut them off and go on to explain how the ksai-see-ma is an important cultural artifact that is worn for protection. Reptar, using his resistant capital, explained, "I was heated. I tried to use my, um, freedom of religion, and I was like, noooo," noting that law enforcement officials are culturally ignorant in cutting off the blessed strings upon arrest. In the eyes of the police, the string is a potential weapon, but in the eyes of a Cambodian, they are religious objects that offer protection and thus should not be removed. The youth go on to explain the negative consequences of losing or removing one's ksai-see-ma. Foster K. explains, "I get so scared whenever I lose my ksai-seema," to which Ace replies, "This is a big deal. To Khmer folks it means a lot because without it you're open to evil spirits, like, messing with you." Drake seemed to have been taught differently in his family, saying, "Well, they say, they say when it does come off, that means you don't need it no more" (April 22, 2015). In either case, the belief that the ksai-see-ma provides a sense of hope and connection to a higher power, as well as to their culture, is clear.

Social and Navigational Capital: Supports Created by and for Guatemalans
Social capital in the CRT sense (as opposed to the Bourdeauian sense) involves networks of people and community resources that can provide both instrumental and emotional support to navigate through society's institutions .
Navigational capital can be understood as the skills necessary to maneuver through these social institutions that were not developed with Communities of Color in mind . I have chosen to synthesize evidence of both social and navigational capital here, due to the strong interconnectedness of these two forms of CCW that emerged in our group discussions and the youth's explanations of their photos.
The Guatemalan co-researchers exhibited evidence of strong social networks and acute ability to navigate through the various systems, including both those created without their strengths and needs in mind and those created by and for folks in their 50 community. All demonstrated knowledge and use of the local public transportation system and had also navigated an extremely dangerous route through Guatemala and Mexico to reach the U.S. border where they were detained and eventually reunited with family in Eagle City. Their photos included many multiservice stores in the community, like the one in Figure 4, where Silvestre explains one can, " cambiar cheques, pagar biles, pagar teléfono, comprar tarjetas para llamar a Guatemala, comprar desayuno. (cash checks, pay bills, pay for your phone, buy phone cards to call Guatemala, buy breakfast.)" (March 25, 2015).

Figure 4: A multiservice Guatemalan bakery
Another shop had safety deposit boxes for rent, which one without access to a bank account might need. All of these shops provide a space for the development of social and navigational capital by connecting with others in the community who may be able to advise on employment and educational opportunities, as well as health care, immigration, and other judicial processes.

Resistant Capital
Yosso (2005)    call "critical civic practice, a process that develops critical consciousness and builds the capacity for young people to respond and change oppressive conditions in their environment" (p. 699). All spoke about feeling overlooked and forgotten in school and the community, essentialized as non-American, associated with gang membership, and profiled and harassed by the police.
In presenting his photo of police cars and emergency service vehicles parked in a lot in their neighborhood awaiting service, Reptar explained, "I took this photo because, Cambodians, they do not like police." When I asked him why not, he replied, "Because, um, we do not understand them. We understand that they're there for safety, but most of the time, it's not for our, our safety. It's for the safety of an American." Foster K. responded in an annoyed tone in Khmer, and then explained in English, "So, um, they're rude, and we don't like them." Drake agreed with Foster K. Reptar added, "No respect," and Ace said, "Even though we're American." I noticed that they seemed to associate the word, "American" with White people, although Ace did clarify that they are, in fact, American, so I asked, perhaps too directly, "But when you say American, you mean people that look like me?" Drake responded, "Haha, Erin," and the others laughed nervously. I continued,  García, 2009, p. 302). The program could also provide space for teachers and students to use their social and navigational capital to develop critical civic praxis (Ginwright and 54 Cammarota, 2007) by investigating issues of concern in the community that would also include a deep exploration of the real history of Guatemala and the root causes of migration.
The Cambodian co-researchers called for and would also benefit from bilingual education that includes a deep study of Cambodian history and migration to the U.S. that builds upon their aspirational, familial, linguistic, spiritual, social, navigational, and resistant capital. All demonstrated deep longing and aspirations to learn their language, culture, and history for the betterment of their community, as well as an insistence that these opportunities be provided as credit-bearing classes during the school day. Since most are nearing the end of high school, it may be difficult to meet the needs of this particular group, but for younger students, introducing Khmer language and history classes at the high school level would be a first step at reclaiming their language and mending intergenerational communication struggles. As the youth suggested in their recommendations, ECPS could work with the monks at the local temples and with the Cambodian Society to develop curricula and to prepare Cambodian teachers. To avoid detrimental language loss among younger children (Gándara & Hopkins, 2010), as well as to foster Khmer and English skills simultaneously, ECPS could collaborate with other Cambodian communities across the country to develop dual language immersion curricula and materials with the intent to begin a two-way immersion program in Kindergarten that would grow one grade per year through 12 th grade, adding to an existing dual language program in the district in Spanish. In order to attract English speakers to this program, in addition to promoting the cognitive, social, emotional, and academic benefits of bilingual education   Ek, 2009;Brabeck, Lykes, & Hershberg, 2011). This study adds to the existing literature by shifting the focus from a deficit-to an assets-based view by engaging Cambodian and Guatemalan youth as co-researchers in a Photovoice process to bring to light their community cultural wealth  and to use this knowledge for advocacy and policy change. In this article, I explore the presence and potential for development of resistant capital , one form of community cultural wealth displayed by the two groups, and argue that the development of resistant capital varies based on various contextual and demographic factors.
In Eagle City Public Schools (ECPS), Cambodian and Guatemalan youth make up the first and third largest groups within the aggregate racial categories of "Asian" and "Hispanic or Latino," respectively. However, due to the essentializing of these groups into these broad racial categories, their experiences and needs typically go Using a Critical Race Theory (CRT) framework and Photovoice methodology , I engaged youth as co-researchers using photography and discussion to critically examine their linguistic and social practices in the home and community, and to make education policy recommendations to create more valuable learning experiences in school. I conducted these as two parallel

Research Design: Critical Race Theory and Photovoice
CRT  is commonly used by researchers conducting participatory action research (PAR) projects, as a lens through which to analyze power relations through the intersection of race and racism with gender, class, language, sexuality, and other forms of subordination  LatCrit and AsianCrit "evolved as a challenge to the black-white binary that often guides racial discourse" (Pérez Huber & Cueva, 2012), providing a more focused lens through which to analyze the diversity of particular experiences of Latino/a and Asian youth, including immigration, language practices, and transmigration (Valdés, 1997;Hernández-Truyol, Harris, and Valdés, 2006).  . Originally Photovoice was developed by  to address community public health concerns by (1)

Community Cultural Wealth
Tara  CRT-inspired model of community cultural wealth moves beyond the Bourdieuian concept of cultural capital, which has been used to position some communities as culturally wealthy and others as culturally poor (Bourdieu & Passeron, 1977;Bourdieu, 1986  . For the purpose of this paper, I focus the following analysis on the resistant capital displayed by the Cambodian youth co-researchers in our work together, contrasting that with the lack of resistant capital displayed by the Guatemalan co-researchers. The Cambodian youth demonstrated their resistant capital in their focus on the importance of "maintaining and passing on the multiple dimensions of community cultural wealth" (Yosso, 2005, p. 80) to maintain and develop the knowledge base in the Southeast Asian community.
Their resistance also took on a transformative form, in that the youth recognized "the structural nature of oppression" and demonstrated the "motivation to work toward social and racial justice" using their "cultural knowledge of the structures of racism and motivation to transform such oppressive structures" (Yosso, 2005, p. 81 Through my experiences, I have found that the rich linguistic and cultural diversity present in our schools is typically overlooked and underdeveloped.
In my work at the higher education level, I was always drawn to help students whose home languages had been lost or underdeveloped through English-medium education in the U.S. to develop pride in their languages. Oftentimes these same students struggled in writing scholarship application essays in English as college students, likely due to the low level of literacy in their home languages. As I became more involved in a project aimed at changing language education in K-12 to include dual language immersion programs in the languages needed by employers, I wanted to focus my dissertation research on issues identified by youth in a Hispanic/Latino and an Asian ethnic group. Recognizing that Cambodians and Guatemalans made up significant portions of these larger racial groups, and that they also had similar histories of forced migration to the U.S. due to state-supported violence and genocide, I chose to work with youth in these two communities.
In early 2015, I recruited participants using purposive sampling (Patton, 2002) in order to include multiple perspectives on linguistic and social practices in the home and community. To add an extra layer of protection for the youth who may have immigration cases pending, I obtained a Certificate of Confidentiality from the National Institutes of Health (NIH). I negotiated with the youth prior to beginning the research to agree upon what each of us wants out of the research Nygreen, 2009Nygreen, -2010. As a doctoral student, I needed to complete a dissertation, but as an activist researcher I was committed to working in collaboration with youth to identify linguistic strengths and concerns in their respective communities with the intent to make change. The participants in this study were five Cambodian and seven Guatemalan youth aged 14-21 who attend or had attended ECPS for a minimum of one semester. I recruited Cambodian youth participants through Eagle City Youth Action (ECYA), a youth-led organization focused on addressing issues in the Southeast Asian community. I was connected to one of the co-directors originally through a former colleague, who is a community activist.
Establishing the connection to the organization through a known and trusted connection as well as by volunteering there helped me to establish trust with the youth prior to the start of the study. continue to perceive me as a teacher, rather than as a friend and co-researcher. This power differential likely caused them to hide some of their forms of capital from me.
Working with Cambodian and Guatemalan youth in a community organization and at a school, respectively, allowed not only for a comparison between two cultural groups, but also their experiences in two different types of organizations.

ECYA as Space for the Development of Resistant Capital
The Cambodian youth co-researchers are all active in Eagle City Youth Action (ECYA), a youth-led organization focused on issues facing the Southeast Asian community. ECYA provides the space and training necessary for the youth organizers to critically examine their own experiences and history, as well as the social and political forces affecting their community today. The process of developing resistant capital can be described as what   collected information on language use and ability and family educational background.
As a point of reference, Table 1 shows basic demographic and language information of the co-researchers, as reported by the youth. Although not all indicated a third language on the questionnaire, I include third languages here based on what I learned in our conversations. For most of the Cambodian youth, third languages are those studied in high school, although for Ace, Spanish is both a language of the home (as her father is from Guatemala) and one studied in school. All but Silvestre indicated that they use at least two languages at home, indicated here as the primary and secondary languages. Both groups indicated on the questionnaire that Khmer and K'iche' were primary languages from age 0-5, but that English and Spanish, respectively, became dominant thereafter. This is reflective of the overwhelming power of the English language in the U.S., and of Spanish in Guatemala.
Upon completion of the surveys, I engaged the youth in a discussion about their language use at home, in the community, and at school to establish a baseline 72 from which to begin introducing Photovoice. I include this below within Wang's Photovoice strategy (2006): (1) Administer language use survey and discuss responses; (2) introduce Photovoice methodology and facilitate a discussion about cameras, power, and ethics; (3) youth take photos of primary language use in the home and community, and then write about and discuss them using these guiding questions following Wang's SHOWeD mnemonic: (a) What do we see here?
(b) What is really happening here?
(c) How does it relate to our lives?
(d) Why does this situation, concern or strength exist?
(e) What can we do about it? (Wang, 2006, p. 151); (4) repeat step (3) for secondary language use and then again for other language use or clarifying photos; (5) determine audience for the photo gallery walk; (6) discuss themes identified in the photos and identify priorities for the development of a policy recommendation document; (7) distribute policy document to policymakers at gallery walk.
With each group, I followed the above steps, bringing the two groups together for the gallery walk upon conclusion of the study. The Guatemalan youth coresearchers completed two rounds of photography, choosing to focus first on the presence and use of Spanish in the home and community, and in the second focusing on English. They did not choose to focus on K'iche' use, although for most it is their secondary language, perhaps due to our limited meeting time. I would give them the digital cameras and photography release forms at our Wednesday morning meeting, and return to WSHS on Monday morning to collect them, thereby allowing myself time to print the photos prior to our next meeting. When someone would forget to bring their camera on Monday, we would improvise and view the photos on a computer or on the camera itself. We would then discuss the photos, organizing them by theme, due to the large quantity of photos of friends, stores, bakeries, and restaurants taken. Each of the youth chose at least three photos to write about using the SHOWeD questions. When determining the audience for the gallery walk, the group suggested inviting their teachers, principals, counselors, and other students to a classroom exhibit, which we held during their English class and Advisory period with permission from their teachers. Developing recommendations connected to their photos was a challenge initially, as most had not identified strengths and concerns, but  (6) providing more public buses, as there is often insufficient space for elderly people to sit down.
The Cambodian youth co-researchers followed the same photography schedule, but struggled with remembering to use the digital cameras during the first round of photography. Thereafter, the group decided that using their Smartphones would work better for most, although Reptar chose to use ECYA's professionalquality camera, and Linda, who did not have a Smartphone, kept one of the digital cameras provided. They also requested that we create a Facebook group, where I could send reminders and they could post photos, which would, in turn, remind the others to take photos. We also created a private, shared Google Drive folder for the collection of photos, so that they could upload them and I could print them in their original, high-resolution format, and we could easily view them during our meetings.
This group completed three rounds of photography, first focusing on English language/their "American side," then on Khmer language/Cambodian culture, and finally taking clarifying photos that they thought would make a greater impact on policymakers. In this case, each of the youth presented each of their photos to the group, explaining why they took it, prior to then choosing at least three to write about following the SHOWeD questions. When planning the gallery walk, the group immediately suggested public places, where they might have the greatest visibility, finally agreeing on City Hall. I then contacted the Mayor's Office and was able to secure City Hall as a venue through its arts and culture department. Once this was secured, I asked the Guatemalan youth to also join us there, and they agreed. We chose to still hold the morning gallery walk in school, which was a good test-run for 75 them, where they could practice speaking with visitors about their photos in English in a safe environment prior to the event later in the day at City Hall. In developing the policy recommendations document with the Cambodian youth, they immediately began to discuss themes that had emerged from their photos, including the need for language classes reflecting the demographics of the community, ethnic studies classes, and translation services. They then chose to create a shared Google Document with a thesis statement preceding and research to support the three recommendations. When we ran out of time to complete this during our regular session, Reptar suggested that we meet over Google Hangout on the weekend to complete the document, which the group agreed to do. I joined them as facilitator, also helping to locate research to support their recommendations and formatting the final document for distribution at the final gallery walk.
After our work together, I analyzed the data, which include the demographic and language use surveys, recorded group discussions (using the iPhone Voice Memos application) and transcripts, field notes, photos, and written responses to the photos using  community cultural wealth framework. I did not record conversations at the final gallery walk at City Hall due to the challenge in obtaining permission from all attendees, but I did record one final conversation with each group the following week when we met to reflect upon the gallery walk and overall study.
What emerged from the data was a difference in the demonstration of resistant capital between the two groups (For more on their demonstration of other forms of capital see Papa, in process). In the next section, I present illustrative examples of resistant capital demonstrated by the youth co-researchers.

Findings
In this section, I present an analysis of photos and excerpts from my conversations with my co-researchers where they exhibited resistant capital or a potential for its development. The data indicate that a combination of contextual, experiential, and demographic factors, shown in Table 2, has influenced the development of resistant capital in these two groups of youth.  Table 2, I show the factors that seemed to affect the demonstration of resistant capital, noting differences and similarities between the two groups of coresearchers. As noted in Table 1, as well as here in the first row of Table 2, both groups are to some degree bilingual, and in most cases are becoming trilingual. Both groups of youth co-researchers can be considered refugee-background, in that they or their parents were forced to leave their home countries due to unstable and violent circumstances (Feuerherm & Ramanathan, 2016, p. 5). Both groups have also experienced a largely monolingual education that privileged the dominant language of government and those in power over those of their respective homes and communities.
Despite this, or perhaps because of it, both groups recognized the need for a bilingual education. Due to their position as newly arrived youth with the pressure to quickly learn English and find employment to be able to support family back home, the Guatemalan youth called for Spanish-medium instruction in the content areas, so that they could access content while acquiring proficiency in English, recognizing from experience the power of Spanish and English here. Although they also saw the value in maintaining their oral proficiency in K'iche', since K'iche' has not traditionally been a written language, they did not explicitly call for K'iche' education. Their desire for bilingual education was grounded more in their aspirational and navigational capital, in that they expressed needing English for practical purposes. The Cambodian youth, on the other hand, called for bilingual education to (re)claim their Khmer, which they felt had been lost due to their English-only education (I examine this in greater detail later in this piece. They would occasionally comment that our class was almost over, or that they came to meet me because it was a class. Although they all had had limited or interrupted 79 formal education in Guatemala or due to the journey to the U.S., all had experienced at least three years of schooling. Due to the teacher-centered style of education they experienced there, where the teacher is considered the expert, and the students empty vessels to fill (Freire, 1970), the youth were accustomed to produce what was expected, but not necessarily to use higher-order thinking to complete school assignments. This style of education combined with their perception of me as an authority figure, rather than a true co- from start to finish in the process, when I also had to obtain IRB approval from the college and district and later to write the dissertation on my own.
In their experience as youth organizers at ECYA, the Cambodian coresearchers were provided the space to exert their agency in identifying issues in their community and provided the leadership skills to develop solutions. Since I had spent a year volunteering in the organization, engaging in their youth-led work, I was able to 81 develop research questions that strongly aligned to prior work of the organization.
This likely affected the degree to which the youth co-researchers were engaged in the process. The following sections illustrate how the Cambodian youth demonstrated resistant capital during the Photovoice process.

Challenging the Assumption that American = White
The Cambodian co-researchers often spoke about the societal perception that Americans are White, monolingual English speakers, and how they are constantly assumed to be non-American because of the color of their skin. They also spoke about the pressure they and their parents face to learn English and become "American" like everyone else, and about the resulting intergenerational communication issues that resulted. In the first round of photography, which was focused on primary language in use, the youth decided to focus on English since it is the language they use most often and most comfortably. In discussing what the focus of their photos might be in this round, they kept associating the English language with American culture or their American side, which they also seemed to associate with Whiteness. In one of our This excerpt shows Drake's own realization that societal messages about Americans being White people had become the norm in his own mind. He had thought of himself as non-American due to his darker skin and likely also his Cambodian cultural practices, which do not fit into the White, Euro-American "norm." The example he shares of the "Spanish kid" shows that this particular kid seems to have internalized these societal messages, choosing to "engage in self-defeating or conformist strategies that feed back into the system of subordination" . With such a reaction, it seems likely that he had experienced racial or linguistic microaggressions that had devalued his linguistic and cultural knowledge growing up (Solórzano, 1998). On the one hand, Drake is recognizing his tendency to essentialize Americans as White people, but on the other, he is essentializing Spanish-speakers as Spanish, when most likely this particular "Spanish kid" who had darker skin was actually from a Latin American country with its own unique cultural and linguistic practices, distinct from those of Spain.
In a later session, Drake shared another story, where he seemed to be struggling with this idea of Americans being White. He explained that he has seen a guy with a shirt that read, "I was a proud American. I WAS a proud American. With proud in quotation marks." He went on to say, "he was either sick and tired, you know, of like, Black people rebellion, or . . . or he can be sick and tired of like, the way the system works, you know?" (May 20, 2015, p. 10). In debating how to interpret the man's shirt, Daniel used his resistant capital and knowledge of the system 83 and race-based reactions. In speculating that this man was tired of "Black people rebellion," he seemed to say that the man may have been upset about People of Color in the U.S. resisting the status quo of White privilege. In speculating that the man may have been sick and tired of how the system works, he seemed to suggest that the man felt frustrated with the economic system privileging corporate interests over people.
In subsequent sessions, the Cambodian youth continued to explore these racial assumptions and divisions in their community, citing many examples that seemed to be enforcing this subconscious assumption that Americans are White people.

Explaining Racial Divisions and the Policing of the Cambodian Community
In  Reptar explains that he took this picture while driving around Ace's neighborhood and that it is a "a picture where you would find a lot of White people," to which Ace replies, "It's a really nice loft." Reptar goes on to explain, "But, um Asians probably, you'd find in a three-decker apartment building, mmhm, or in a project." I ask if those are nearby, and Ace explains, "Um, so, there's like, the really American side of the Ace notes how she began to realize that persistent violence is not a healthy, normal childhood experience. As she aged and gained more experience, she developed the awareness of the stark racial and ethnic divisions in Eagle City that seemed to be connected to safety and violence as well. She seems to say here that in Sandville and her current neighborhood on the West Side, where folks lived in subsidized housing or in run-down apartments, violence was more prevalent. She realized that her family was resettled into the poorest area of the city. Eric Tang (2015) suggests that this was the case for many Cambodian families in Eagle City, as well as in other northeastern cities. In stating that "that's not what you're supposed to see. At six years old," Ace recognizes that this violence is not normal and perhaps only exists in their and other racially-segregated neighborhoods.
They also associated these racial divisions in the community with policing and criminalization of Southeast Asian folks and law enforcement's perception of them as non-American. In presenting a photo of police cars and emergency service vehicles parked in a lot in their neighborhood, Reptar explained, "I took this photo because, Cambodians, they do not like police." When I asked why not, he responded, "Because, um, we do not understand them. We understand that they're there for safety, but most of the time, it's not for our, our safety. It's for the safety of an American." He seemed to allude to the fact that his community is profiled and policed, rather than protected by the police. Later he added, "Yeah, I'm not American to a police officer," and went on to explain that officers have asked him where he is from and spoken to him in Spanish, despite his statement that he was born in the U.S. (April 8, 2015, p. 14). to see that we're not the problem. The way they do their job is the real issue.
( May 6, 2015, p. 17) Ace revisits the idea of the Southeast Asian community being profiled and assumed dangerous here. By pointing out these injustices in the way they are treated by law enforcement and by naming how they came about, Ace demonstrates her resistant capital and deep understanding of the systemic discrimination at play. She also draws attention to how the criminalization of subgroups within the community affects the community at-large. In stating, "The way they do their job is the real issue," she makes the connection to the source of violence being that of police officers. This dovetails with Freire's (1970) theory that, "Never in history has violence been initiated by the oppressed. . . . Violence is initiated by those who oppress, who exploit, who fail to recognize others as persons -not by those who are oppressed, exploited, and unrecognized" (p.55). By bringing out her "activist side" and pointing out that the Southeast Asian community is a lot more than "gang members and convicts," Ace suggests that the police currently operate with a deficit view of her culture. Reading more deeply into this, she also suggests that what is needed is a change in the practice of policing to an assets-based view, one that operates from a place of respect for and understanding of the various cultures in the community. If the police officers that had stopped Reptar had been educated about diverse cultures, histories, and perspectives in school in their professional training, they would likely have approached him with greater respect, rather than automatically assuming him to be alien.
This frustration with the lack of cultural recognition in the community surfaced in many of our discussions, including those about school. The co-researchers 88 hypothesized that the absence of Cambodian, and larger Southeast Asian, histories and cultures in the curriculum may be a contributing factor to the divides in the community, which I examine further in the subsequent section.

What about our human rights?: Putting Cambodian History into the Curriculum
The Foster K. and Ace exhibit their resistant capital here, in how they articulate why Khmer people work to preserve their culture in their community and also how the history of the Vietnam War is framed in U.S. history books. In calling attention to the naming of the war in such a way, they recognize that it is framed and taught from a White Euro-American perspective, thus positioning all other experiences as insignificant. By saying that America's framing of the war in such a way implies that "we should forget about the rest of Southeast Asia," Ace seems to suggest that the authors of U.S. history curricula intentionally silence the experiences of the Cambodians, Laotians, and Hmong in the war.
In a later session (April 15, 2015), Drake noted that the history curriculum has not changed in generations, and expressed his frustration with only learning about World War I and World War II, and using the same materials as prior generations. Linda is keenly aware of the essentialization of distinct cultures into larger, homogenizing ones in the current curriculum. By calling attention to her teacher's choice to focus an assignment on human rights on Africa, she calls out the essentialization of the diverse ethnicities, languages, and cultures of the continent into one homogenous whole. She also seems to call out the bias inherent in the assignment that suggests that the continent is the primary site of human rights violations in the world. It is clear that Linda, as well as the others, would like to really learn and dig deep into a topic, and to be allowed to explore the human rights topic by looking at their own cultures and histories that are so often silenced in the curriculum. CRT deliberately provides the space for typically silenced voices, experiences, and knowledges to be heard. Having the space provided by ECYA, in which to explore these topics among peers and adults, allows the youth to develop the agency and critical consciousness necessary for the development of resistant capital.
The youth also suggested that it is possible to do this in school in their recommendation that Eagle City Public Schools implement Ethnic Studies courses reflecting the demographics of the city.

Languages Taught in School = Languages Spoken by White Folks
Not only did the youth co-researchers call for the inclusion of Ethnic Studies in the school curriculum, but they also called for the option to develop their Khmer in school. In developing the recommendations for ECPS, they called for Khmer courses, as well as for other languages that reflect the demographics of the community, exhibiting their resistant capital in calling attention to the inequities present in the current system. Foster K. and Drake, in particular, chose to photograph materials used in their Spanish ( Figure 4) and French ( Figure 5) classes, respectively, to make a more impactful statement at the gallery walk.
While the caption she chose is rather literal, in writing her reasons for taking this photo (Figure 3), Foster K. explained, "This is a strength because learning a new language can be fun. This is a concern because I can also be losing my Khmer skills." In response to the question, "What can we do about it?" she offered, "Can at least try to have some sort of Khmer classes or some Cambodian history/course as well as other nationalities/ethnicities to be fair?" Foster K. sees the value in learning multiple languages, but challenges what is currently offered in ECPS in suggesting that the district alter their language and history course offerings to honor the diversity of ethnicities represented. The reader can sense her frustration in the way she words her recommendation, using the phrases, "Can at least try" and "to be fair." She seems to imply here that from her perspective ECPS is not trying to "be fair" and include all of the various ethnic groups at the decision-making table, while also recognizing that this may be difficult for ECPS to do.
In his written response to his photo in Figure 4 Drake explained, "We only have three languages in the typical Eagle City Public School curriculum which is Spanish, French, and Italian." He went on to write, "This situation concerns me a lot because we are only learning that were spoken by White folks . . . could [be] degrading for foreign cultures." Although Spanish in EC is spoken mainly by Black and Brown students now, Drake seems to recognize here that the Spanish taught in school is the colonial language of Spain. In response to this, he suggested that ECPS "Give more foreign language choices for students. Ex. Khmer so Cambodians that don't know their language well can be able to learn their own language and speak to their folks that do not know how to speak English." Drake's response to his photo expands on Foster K.'s comment about her own Khmer language loss by making the connection between language loss and intergenerational communication issues. His caption, "Why can't I learn about my country and my language?" is a demonstration of his resistant capital, implying that the educational system currently suppresses his language and culture, while privileging the languages of White Europeans, or as Reptar explained, "Europeans control the world" (May 6, 2015, p. 14). Reptar reinforces the idea Drake alluded to previously that the Spanish that is taught in school is that of White Europeans. When I asked if there are Spanish classes for Spanishspeakers, the youth replied in the negative. They explained that students are just 94 placed in a higher level, giving them access to AP classes sooner, but not necessarily differentiating instruction to meet them where they are linguistically and culturally.
Linda chose to make the argument about the need for Khmer language classes from a different angle, presenting a photo of a hand-written sign in Khmer that hangs in the office of their organization that no one, not even their director, can read ( Figure   5).  Linda also wrote and spoke about the loss of Khmer reading and writing ability fading over time, suggesting in her written response that, "This situation exists because everything taught in public schools are English, and not our own language." Because of the overwhelming influence of English, the youth would often speak about feeling ashamed to speak Khmer in school growing up for fear of being teased by their peers and from their experience in being misunderstood by teachers. As they entered adolescence, they began to long for improved Khmer ability. Linda spoke most often about her journey to overcome the silencing of her Khmer language, offering examples of how she would ask for help from others in learning Khmer, and how she now tries to speak with her mother in Khmer as a way to reclaim the language for future generations.

Discussion
I have attempted to illustrate how the youth co-researchers demonstrated their agency through this study, and how the Photovoice process might be used as a tool to recognize and support resistant capital among linguistically-minoritized youth. By reflecting on the differences in the demonstration of resistant capital between the Guatemalan and Cambodian co-researchers who participated in this study, I found that a variety of demographic and contextual factors affected their use of resistant capital.
The Photovoice process allowed youth the space to critically reflect on the linguistic and social strengths and concerns, but could have been more effective in developing resistant capital with more time, as well as the integration of critical study of their history and of language education policies.

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The Reflecting on our work together, I believe that with more time, and perhaps a more neutral space, the Photovoice process would have allowed for the development of resistant capital among my Guatemalan co-researchers as well. Holding our meetings in their classroom, the youth continued to think of me as a teacher, rather than a co-researcher. Since our time was limited by the bell that indicated the start of the school day, it was likely difficult for them to imagine that we were not in just another class. If the Photovoice project could have been integrated into a combined

Demographic and Language Use and Preference Questionnaire (English version for Cambodian co-researchers)
Please fill out this form and return it to the researcher. All of this information will be locked in a secure cabinet and destroyed within two calendar years after completion of the research study to ensure confidentiality. Thank you for your contribution to this research.

Cuestionario Demográfico y de Uso y Preferencia del Lenguaje (Spanish version for Guatemalan co-researchers)
Por favor complete este formulario y devuélvalo a la investigadora. Toda esta información estará cerrada con llave en un archivo seguro y será destruida dos años después de la terminación de la investigación para asegurar su confidencialidad.

Appendix 2: Data Collection and Analysis
This appendix supplements the methodology sections in Manuscripts 2 and 3, providing a detailed description of the data collection and analysis process.

Data Collection
Data collection took place from late February through early June 2015. I met with the two groups separately, meeting with the Guatemalan co-researchers on Wednesday mornings for approximately one hour prior to the start of school. I would typically stay at the school to help out for first period, and occasionally would pull the co-researchers out of Advisory with their teacher's permission when we had not finished our task in our earlier session or when some of the youth had missed the session. Later in the day, I would meet with the Cambodian co-researchers immediately following their regular organizing meeting from 4-6 PM on Wednesday evenings, which I also attended.
In the first session, I asked the youth co-researchers to complete the demographic and language use questionnaire (see Appendix 1) that I adapted for Guatemalan and Cambodian youth from  and Gignoux's (2009) surveys  Take photos of primary language in use in the home and community. Week of Mar. 16 Choose 3--5 photos that you feel best depict your primary language in use and write about each of the photos. Week of Mar. 23 Meet to discuss the photos of primary language use.
Generate themes using digital slideshow. Each person talks about all of their photos. *Possibility of inviting youth--selected community members to participate in the viewing and discussion.
Take pictures of secondary language in use in the home and community prior to next meeting. Week of Mar. 30 Choose the 3--5 photos that you feel best depict your secondary language in use and write about each of the photos. Week of Apr. 6 Meet to discuss the photos of secondary language use and generate themes using digital slideshow. *Possibility of inviting youth--selected community members to participate in the viewing and discussion. Week of Apr. 13/20 Choose the 3--5 photos that you feel best depict your third language in use or other clarifying photos and write about each of their photos.
Week of Apr. 27 Meet to discuss the photos of third language use or other clarifying photos and generate themes using digital slide show. *Possibility of inviting youth--selected community members to participate in the viewing and discussion. Week of May 4 Two groups of youth participants come together to determine who (possibly school administrators or politicians or other leaders) should see the photos Week of May 11 Group discussion of the themes identified in the two groups and identification of priorities for the two groups. Begin to develop policy recommendation document to address educational concerns of Cambodian and Guatemalan youth for distribution to policymakers at the gallery walk. We discussed how this would include three weeks of photography, with each round followed by group discussions and written reflections on the photos. Following this, and based on our discussions, the co-researchers would develop recommendations for Eagle City Public Schools that we would distribute to district leadership and policymakers at a final photo gallery walk. In discussing cameras, power, and ethics, we discussed when it is appropriate to take photos of people and how to ask for permission. We agreed that it was important to ask permission before photographing people, and to ask permission of parents before photographing children. I gave each of the co-researchers a manila envelope of photography release forms and explained that they would need to obtain parent signatures for children under the age of 18.
Since the Cambodian youth had spent their whole lives in the U.S., they were used to the procedures for permission forms, so the discussion was brief. With the Guatemalan youth, we had a more in-depth discussion about this, as it had been evident to me that in most cases, the youth had originally signed the study release forms for their parents. They explained to me that they had asked their parents for permission, and the parents had verbally agreed, so the youth signed for them since the parents cannot read or write. After reaching an understanding about the legality of the process, and clarifying that the parents could, in fact, write their names, the youth (who were under 18) took their forms home and had their parents sign. They again demonstrated their understanding by obtaining signatures from the teachers, friends, and family members they photographed later in the process.
In the next session, I brought the digital cameras that I had collected by donation from friends, family, and acquaintances. I had eight cameras, enough for one group only, so started out by staggering the weeks of photography for the two groups.
I would give them the digital cameras and photography release forms at our Wednesday morning meeting, and return to the site on Monday morning to collect them, thereby allowing myself time to print the photos prior to our next meeting. The Cambodian co-researchers struggled with remembering to use the digital cameras during the first round of photography. Thereafter, the group decided that using their Smartphones would work better for most, although Reptar chose to use their organization's professional-quality camera, and Linda, who did not have a Smartphone, kept one of the digital cameras provided. They also requested that we create a Facebook group, where I could send reminders and they could post photos, which would, in turn, remind the others to take photos. We also created a private, shared Google Drive folder for the collection of photos, so that they could upload them and I could print them in their original, high-resolution format, and we could easily view them during our meetings.
In the first round of photography, which lasted one week, focused on primary language in use, some of the youth took more photos than others and some forgot to take photos at all. Thereafter, I asked them to take a minimum of five photos per round. The Guatemalan co-researchers chose to focus on Spanish language in use in this round. Since they took a large number of photos, we would start our discussions by first organizing the photos as a group by theme. For example, there were many photos of friends, restaurants/bakeries, and multi-service stores. I then asked each coresearcher to choose 3-5 photos to write about that they felt best represented the message about their home and community linguistic and social practices they wanted to communicate, responding to the SHOWeD questions: (a) What do we see here?
(b) What is really happening here?
(c) How does it relate to our lives?
(d) Why does this situation, concern or strength exist?
(e) What can we do about it? (Wang, 2006, p. 151) In the first round, they did this on notebook paper, but noticing that it was a struggle to read the questions on the SmartBoard and write answers in their notebooks, I created graphic organizers on 8.5x11 sheets of paper with a blank space on the top half for the photo and a table with questions on the left side (in English and Spanish) and space to respond on the right. The youth asked if they should write in English or Spanish, and I told them to write in whichever they preferred. Most chose to write in Spanish, but some tried to write in English, often with the help of an electronic translator. The graphic organizers helped to keep responses for each photo organized, but the coresearchers struggled with understanding the difference between "What do we see here?" and "What is really happening here?" If I were to do another Photovoice project, I would change these questions to: "Tell us about your photo," and "Why did you take this photo?" This would lead youth more fluidly to the next question, "How does this relate to our lives?" With the Cambodian co-researchers, there were fewer photos, so each person would present each photo to the group, explaining why they chose to take the photos and what they meant. Thereafter, each co-researcher chose 3-5 photos to write about using the same graphic organizers (without the Spanish translation) that I used with the Guatemalan co-researchers. We would then come back together, and they each shared what they had written with the group. This often spurred more discussion and inspired others to make similar connections to their own photos or experiences.
In the second round of photography, the Guatemalan co-researchers chose to photograph English language in use, and the Cambodian co-researchers Khmer language in use. We repeated the steps described above for this round of photography, taking a couple of weeks to complete the discussion and written responses in the Guatemalan case. Some of the Cambodian co-researchers chose to do one more round of photography to add a few photos that they felt would have a greater impact in the exhibit at the end of our project.
Contrary to what is listed in the proposed schedule, the two groups did not meet until the final gallery walk at City Hall. In each of the group meetings, we discussed who the co-researchers thought should be invited to the final exhibit. The co-researchers also suggested venues for the exhibit, the classroom in the case of the  (6) providing more public buses, as there is often insufficient space for elderly people to sit down.
In developing the policy recommendations document with the Cambodian youth, they immediately began to discuss themes that had emerged from their photos, including the need for language classes reflecting the demographics of the community, ethnic studies classes, and translation services. They then chose to create a shared Google Document with a thesis statement preceding and research to support the three recommendations. When we ran out of time to complete this during our regular session, Reptar suggested that we meet over Google Hangout on the weekend to complete the document, which the group agreed to do. I joined them as facilitator, also helping to locate research to support their recommendations and formatting the final document for distribution at the final gallery walk.
The processes followed with each group were necessarily different due to the variation in the ways each group approached the project. As I discussed in Manuscript 3, the Cambodian youth displayed more resistant capital during this project than did the Guatemalan youth. By approaching this project as a political action, which the This worked well with co-researchers whose primary language was different from that of the researcher, allowing us to use imagery to communicate and negotiate meaning.
This also worked well with co-researchers sharing a primary language, who were eager to bring light to the wealth of linguistic and cultural practices of their community that they felt had been hidden or demonized for so long.

Appendix 3: Guatemalan Co-Researchers' Community Cultural Wealth
In this section, I provide further examples of the Guatemalan co-researchers' community cultural wealth to supplement those included in the second manuscript, focusing on those forms of capital that they displayed most strongly and often: familial and navigational capital. Since both of these forms of capital overlap with aspirational and social capital, respectively, I also include those forms of capital as part of this analysis. Despite systemic, structural, and social barriers, the Guatemalan co-researchers used their community cultural wealth to navigate life in Rhode Island for the betterment of their familia. In many ways the community cultural wealth held by the youth is reflective of their community's response to these barriers that prevent them from living in full participation in U.S. society. In the following sections, I provide definitions of aspirational, familial, social, and navigational, along with illustrative examples from the data that represent how these forms of capital emerged in the photos and discussions of the co-researchers.

Porque es mi familia: Aspirational and Familial Capital
In this study, the Guatemalan youth demonstrated aspirational and familial capital, both of which can be seen woven throughout examples of other forms of capital, through group discussions and written responses to their photographs. Yosso (2005) defines aspirational capital as "the ability to maintain hopes and dreams for the future, even in the face of real and perceived barriers" (p. 76). Aspirational capital is nurtured through social and familial networks, and is informed by and overlaps with other forms of capital, including social, familial, navigational, linguistic, resistant,  and spiritual (Pérez-Huber, 2009). Familial capital "refers to those cultural knowledges nurtured among familia (kin) that carry a sense of community history, memory, and cultural intuition" . This form of community cultural wealth involves a commitment to community wellbeing, expanding the concept of family to include friends and community members outside of one's biological family, in contrast to "traditional" White Euro-American individualized, racialized, classed, and heterosexualized concepts of family. Through this familial bond, community members learn the importance of maintaining a healthy connection to the community and its resources .

Aspiring to Increase Family Status Back Home.
Prior to making the journey to the U.S. to reunite with parents or older siblings, aunts, uncles, grandparents, and other family members committed to raising them in Guatemala until the family could afford to send for them. All of the Guatemalan youth co-researchers expressed the importance of increasing the status and well-being of their family back home in Guatemala through their explanations of their photos. Patricia  explains how this aspect of familial capital is common among the K'iche': "Because transmigration is often perceived as a project of the extended family, relations of exchange and reciprocity between those who leave and those who stay are ideally built into the family strategy" (p. 136). In explaining photos of multiservice stores, Silvestre says he goes there "para comprar carne, para comprar una tarjeta para llamar a la familia en Guate (to buy meat, to buy a card to call family in Guate)," and when I push the youth to explain why they need to send money and buy phone cards, elaborates, las coprán, y más chivos, y crecen, y los venden, y esperan a ver que los carniceros arrancarlos (capture them, and also kids (young goats), and raise them, and sell them, and wait to see that the butchers skin them)" (March 25, 2015, p. 14). It is interesting how Silvestre often elaborates with such detail about processes, explaining the process of making tortillas in an earlier session and the process of raising and selling cows and goats here. In detailing the process, including where he would go to first obtain or capture the cattle, he also exhibits navigational capital.
Familial Capital via Alimentación. Food is a focal point of the photos of the Guatemalan co-researchers, something that connects them to home. In terms of community cultural wealth, I argue that the sharing and consumption of food extends  definition of familial capital.  describes familial capital as "those cultural knowledges nurtured among familia (kin) that carry a sense of community history, memory and cultural intuition" and goes on to write about how through these relationships, we "learn the importance of maintaining a healthy connection to our community and its resources." The Spanish term alimentación, often translated simply as "food," also carries the meaning of nourishment. The youth presented many photos of Guatemalan restaurants, panaderías (bakeries), and markets that provide a certain amount of comfort or nourishment, especially when everything else in life here can be uncertain.
connection to home. Food is central to family and community for these youth in particular, since they and their parents grew up working the land in order to provide sustenance for their families. In their culture, as in most indigenous cultures, there is a strong connection to the land and its resources. The process of growing and harvesting milpa (corn) to then process and make tortillas and other foods, or to care for animals, represents a commitment to community wellbeing and requires collaboration among multiple people. The Earth is often spoken about as the mother, something that provides food, water, and livelihood. This connection to the Earth is exemplified in how many communities across Guatemala are organizing to resist large-scale mining and hydroelectric projects in their communities. These projects not only take away physical land area, but also contaminate water sources, which are essential for cooking, drinking, washing clothes, and irrigating crops.

Social and Navigational Capital
Social capital in the critical race theory sense (as opposed to the Bourdeauian sense) involves networks of people and community resources that can provide both instrumental and emotional support to navigate through society's institutions Yosso, 2006;. Navigational capital can be understood as the skills necessary to maneuver through these social institutions that were not developed with Communities of Color in mind. This also involves individual agency, as well as the social and emotional skills necessary to navigate through such hostile institutions Yosso, 2006;. I have chosen to synthesize evidence of both social and navigational capital here, due to the strong interconnectedness of these two forms of community cultural wealth found in our group discussions, the youth's written responses to photos, and the photos themselves.
The Guatemalan co-researchers exhibited evidence of strong social networks and acute ability to navigate through the various systems, including both those created without their strengths and needs in mind and those created by and for folks in their communities. The Guatemalan youth are all very recent arrivals to the United States, having navigated an extremely dangerous route through Guatemala and Mexico to reach the U.S. border before being detained and eventually reunited with family in Rhode Island. I do not know what their immigration status is now, but I am fairly certain that they each have immigration cases in process, yet another use for their navigational capital, as do many thousands of "unaccompanied minors" who have entered the country in the last few years (Pierce, 2015). to hear that pairs of siblings in the class (i.e., Marta and Luis) had made the trip separately, although I believe that they made the trip around the same time.
The average trip took about a month, with some stating that it had taken six weeks or so. Prior to this conversation, I had wondered about their journeys to the U.S., and had assumed that at least some of them had come with a visa sponsored by a parent that had lived many years here already. I was surprised to hear that ALL of them had made this dangerous journey. This certainly must affect their outlook on life and education, having risked their lives to come here to earn money for the family (Field notes, April 29, 2015).
While we waited for the others the following week, I spoke with Mileydi about her journey to the U.S. Unfortunately I never started recording, as we were waiting for the others to arrive, but I wrote this synopsis of our discussion in my field notes immediately after our session: While we waited for the others, we spoke about Mileydi's journey to the U.S. She and each of her family members came individually with a guide. The guide helped her to navigate through the desert and across the river. She said she was detained in Texas (I think for two months) before they sent her to Rhode Island to join her family (Field notes, May 6, 2015).
Mileydi seemed hesitant to continue speaking about her journey since it is a very sensitive topic that could potentially get a member of her family deported, so we quickly switched topics. Although she traveled with a guide, making the trip safely required the navigational skills to notice and imitate patterns of speech, so as to sound like a local along the way, as well as to quickly maneuver on various modes of transportation and to stay attuned to instruction from the guide, as Foxen (2007) explains is characteristic of K'iche's.
Another way the K'iche' construct themselves as better able to endure the exigencies of transnationalism is through their abilities to use their subaltern identity to play a game of power with authorities. . . . finding clever ways to negotiate with those in power, and utilizing intelligence and wit (ser vivo, to be 132 alive, or smart) in doing so, are important components of K'iche' survival and identity (Foxen, 2007, p. 195).
Their families used their social and navigational capital to decide when and how each of the youth would travel here. With the current discourse constructing unaccompanied minors entering the U.S. as criminal (Feuerherm & Ramanthan, 2016), and with increased vigilance along the Guatemala-Mexico and Mexico-U.S. borders in the name of "security" and "protection" in recent years, as well as the dangers of hiring a coyote (guide) who may or may not be involved with the cartels, this journey is a great risk and involves an acute knowledge of the ever-changing situation along the route.
Navigating Public Transportation and the Neighborhood. The youth also exhibited navigational capital in their understanding and use of the public transportation system. Alex showed a photo of a friend waiting for the bus at the central bus exchange in the city, something that they do twice a day to get to and from school. He explained that it takes them more than an hour each way due to the frequent stopping of the bus and the transfer time. Silvestre must live close enough to school that he does not receive a bus pass (At the time 3 miles was the requirement, but now thanks to Eagle City Student Union advocacy, it is 2 miles.), so rides his bike to school. Not only do the youth know which buses run to and from school, but they also discuss which buses pass by the multiservice store/bakery in one of their photos.
Luis says something about it being cerca (close), to which Oscar agrees, saying that  2015, p. 9). This is again an example of navigational capital, in that the youth know how to access these services, which are necessary in their lives here. Perhaps knowing this store and the services it provides is a form of social capital as well, in that the store is a multi-faceted community resource. In discussing the cost of calls back home to Guatemala, Silvestre and Alex exhibit navigational and linguistic capital.
Alex: Um, I don't know, five minutes is five dollar.
mailing the package home to her family (Group discussion transcript, March 25, 2015).
In reflecting later about the need for safety deposit boxes in a shop rather than in a bank, I realized that since many Guatemalans and other Central Americans in RI are undocumented and therefore do not have Social Security numbers, they cannot open bank accounts. In order to protect the family's money and valuables, the youth and their families must possess the navigational capital to understand the system and the social capital to find an alternate solution for keeping valuables safe.
When discussing the photo of the Clasicos Hair Salon, Mileydi and Marta agree that everyone in the shop speaks Spanish, which is important to both of them.
Mileydi explains, "si, no, no me corta el pelo aquí (if not, I would not cut my hair here)." Marta agrees that she prefers to get her hair cut where they speak Spanish, "para entendernos nuestro estilo de pelo. Porque no supimos, sabemos hablar en español, es difícil hablar en English (to mutually understand our hairstyle. Because we don't know, we know how to speak Spanish, it is difficult to speak in English) (March 25, 2015).
Both girls seem to feel more comfortable having this type of service provided in Spanish. In describing another photo of a barbershop, Silvestre wrote the caption, "Barber Shop es buena peluquería para cortar el cabello y comunicarse. Barber Shop is a good hair salon for cutting hair and communicating with others." This statement implies that a hair salon or barbershop is an example of the social capital of the community, a Spanish-speaking resource that makes the customer feel at home, where people can also network and learn about other resources in the community. In a community that does not welcome them as equal citizens, these hair salons and barbershops are assets in created by and for Spanish-speaking immigrants that serve as a safe space for networking and communication.
The Guatemalan co-researchers demonstrated often-overlooked community cultural wealth that is reflective of their uncertain immigration status in the U.S. Their intertwined aspirational, familial, social, and navigational capital are evident in their strong commitment to supporting family back home and preparation for an eventual return to Guatemala. The multi-service stores, hair salons, and restaurants all provide a safe space, created by and for Guatemalans, where they can support family here and back home, and connect with others who find themselves in similar circumstances in the community.
teachers who are literate in Khmer with professional development provided by monks from the temples in the community who currently provide language classes. Through this partnership, a K-5 Khmer-English dual language immersion curriculum could be modeled after successful programs in Spanish, Chinese, and Vietnamese in districts such as Portland Public Schools in Oregon and the International Charter School in Pawtucket, RI 16 . 3. Provide translation services and translated documents in Khmer for older generations so that parents, guardians, and grandparents can be more involved in the academic lives of their children.
list in Appendix1). Although their policy recommendations are reflective of each group's particular experience and context, there is overlap in the demand for an education that is responsive to the community cultural wealth the youth bring to school. The Guatemalan youth recognized their need for Spanish-medium instruction in the content areas, which would allow them to access academic content while acquiring English. The Cambodian youth desired to have Khmer language instruction provided in school, so that they could reclaim the language of their families and community.
In this section, I focus on this call from both groups of youth for a bilingual education that is responsive to their particular needs and contexts, expanding on the suggestions for policy and practice provided in each of the three manuscripts that Eagle City Public Schools could use to develop the community cultural wealth of these and other emergent bilingual youth. In the first manuscript, I discuss how there is space in the current education policy landscape in Rhode Island for the implementation and expansion of dual language bilingual education (DLBE). In the second and third manuscripts, I explore more deeply the various forms of capital demonstrated by the youth and how this community cultural wealth might be developed in school. How might the leadership of ECPS work these spaces to create policies that allow for the development of programs and practices that are responsive to youth needs and reflective of their community cultural wealth?
At a macro-level, ECPS could create policies and practices for the collection of data that is reflective of the demographics of the city, which could then be used to develop a district-wide plan for the expansion of DLBE from K-12 that is reflective of 143 the languages and cultures of the Eagle City community. ECPS could also engage in partnerships with community organizations that are already working to support and advance specific cultural groups, focusing specifically on youth-led organizations, as well as with districts across the country with strong track records for implementing DLBE. Such partnerships would allow youth, educators, and official policymakers to come together to develop innovative programs to support the development of fully bilingual and biliterate proficiency in a way that also builds upon community cultural wealth. On the micro-level, high school administration could give control of the weekly Advisory period to students and teachers for engagement in a Photovoice process. Since students typically stay with the same Advisory teacher(s) for four years, each year the group could collectively identify one topic of concern to the community that they could explore throughout the school year, presenting their photos and recommendations toward the end of the year in a district-or school-wide photo gallery walk and policy summit. The following year, the same group of students and teachers could work to implement the recommendations by developing a campaign strategy and engaging with community organizations and policymakers who would be key partners in such an effort. If teachers and students feel that they would benefit from leadership training to carry out such an effort, they could reach out to organizations like Eagle City Youth Action (ECYA) to ask youth leaders to facilitate this training for the development of resistant capital in other youth and educators as well.
Photovoice provides the space for students to make their voices and unique needs and perspectives heard, and in turn for teachers and administrators to gain an 144 awareness of different forms of capital possessed by their students. This is a way to counter the essentializing of emergent bilingual youth as English learners, Latinos, low-income, immigrant, or refugee. In uncovering this community cultural wealth, teachers and administrators gain a better understanding of their students' unique strengths and needs and can plan instruction that is more reflective and supportive of the aspirational, familial, linguistic, social, navigational, resistant , and spiritual capital (Pérez- Huber, 2009) that students bring to school. ECPS could provide opportunities for youth to organize and facilitate professional development workshops for teachers, policymakers, and administrators regarding their needs to raise awareness through the highest levels of policymaking. Teachers could benefit from learning a process like Photovoice to support the development of resistant capital among their students. In allowing students to critically reflect upon their individual and community strengths and concerns, and to develop solutions to address these concerns, the Photovoice process supports activism by and for emergent bilingual youth. In so doing, youth may be more fully engaged in their education and the community.