My Second Language Living in the United States as a Korean-American was not an easy task growing up. Sure I knew how to read and write English, but I did not know how to read, speak, and write my native language. It was difficult for me emotionally because I felt other people looked down on me especially Korean adults who often asked me why I did not know how to speak Korean in which I had no direct answer. "You should know how to at least speak Korean," they commonly spoke in a friendly tone, trying not to hurt my feelings. In my seventh grade year, I had the urge to take a step in order for me to fit in with the rest of my fellow peers, the Korean sub communities, and feel better about myself. One Saturday morning, while other teens were probably sleeping in, I woke up early to get ready for my first day of Korean school. My mother had gracefully accepted my urge to learn Korean a few weeks before and enrolled me in a Korean school located at a nearby high school. As I arrived, I could feel the warm sunlight shining in my face while I saw other children who were definitely younger than me scurrying around and playing in the quad. My mom and I stepped into the office and met with the director. He was an older gentleman who looked experienced. They conversed in Korean, while I was questioning myself deciding if this was the right choice. Several minutes later they finished and my mom whispered in my ear, "I will pick you up at one when your first lesson ends." I waved and then director told me to go to room five. I did not know what to expect as I was finding the room, still deciding to back out at the last minute. This was what I wanted and I had to go on with it. For what seemed like a long time I found the room and gently opened it to see what was in store for my new skill.
I remember glaring at my mom when she spoke Korean in public, telling her to be quiet. I remember avoiding talking about my culture, because I was ashamed. These simple remarks from children who were not taught to accept others’ differences truly affected my pride and identity. My parents would always tell me, “You should be proud of being Korean!” Despite this, I felt disrespected, downgraded, and discouraged.
In the early years of my life, adapting to the foreign customs of America was my top priority. Although born in America, I constantly moved back and forth from Korea to the US, experiencing nerve-racking, yet thrilling emotions caused by the unfamiliarity of new traditions. Along with these strange traditions, came struggles with accepting my ethnicity. Because of the obvious physical differences due to my race, the first question asked by the students in elementary school was, “Are you from China?” These inquiries were constantly asked by several of American students until middle school which transformed to “You must be good at math” referencing the stereotypical intellect that Asian are perceived to have. Through continuous insult on my Asian heritage, I began to believe and later hate the person I was due to criticism made by teenagers which I started to see true despite all the lies that was actively told. This racial discrimination was a reoccurring pattern that
I am a Korean and I am proud to classify myself as a Korean; however, sometimes it can be hard. When I joined Kindergarten, I remember the school staff trying to put me into a special program because they did not think I was capable of speaking English. At first, I did not feel that happy that they quickly assumed I was not able to reach the educational level like the other kids. However, then I realized they recommended the program to me to ensure that I stayed at the level and would not fall behind. Although, the program was recommended to help me, I did not want to learn without my friends, I did not want to get extra help, and I did not want to be treated differently. Therefore, I tried harder in and out of school; I would go home each day and do practice workbooks and study. Thus, leading me to go to a magnet school. Although, I was able to overcome this barrier in Kindergarten, in high school it became harder. I remember people always commenting that I was a stereotypical asian and that I needed to loosen up. Although these comments do not sound that bad, it really hit the spot on me. After hearing all these comments, I immediately wanted to stop trying in school because I did not want people to think that I was a “buzzkill” at school. Also, due to my race, I felt that people had the
The first and second year after moving from China to the United States, I was afraid to talk to strangers because my English was not very well. I had to depend on my husband for dealing with my personal business, such as making a doctor’s appointment, calling to the bank, or questioning to DMV officers. Douglass says, “being a slave for life began to bear heavily upon my heart” (62). For myself, being a dependent and helpless adult is a shame. Moreover, I lacked of extra money to go to school to improve my English. Thus, I stayed home all the time to avoid embarrassment of talking to strangers. After a while, I realized that improving English speaking skills are the essential to gain my self-confidence. So, I spent time to read various articles on the internet and watched English dialogues’ videos on YouTube. As a non-English speaking immigrant living in the U.S., I inevitably encountered a series of difficulties to integrate myself into a new
For as long as I can remember learning how to read and write was a real challenge for me. When I first arrived in the United States I was enrolled at the nearby elementary school. Being from another country I was scared and embarrassed because I was different then the other children in my class. Talking and communicating with others was something that wasn't in the interest of what I wanted to do. I sat far away from others depriving myself of what they were doing or learning. Coming from Mexico and going to a school where no other children would speak the same language that I would or even play the way I did made me believe that I was some sort of thing that didn't belong. All these contributed to a low esteemed child that was unable to communicate. The world I was in suddenly became a place that I didn't know. To the kids and others in my class I was an illiterate person.
...efore I did not know any Korean, now I possess some linguistic skill, yet I am not sure what I am going to do with it. Do I let my grasp of it loosen the way I lost hold of the French I learned in high school? Or am I required to hold on to it and make use of it, since it is a part of my heritage and ethnic background? Right now I am sitting on the fence, as the phrase goes. I have not decided yet what I will do with my recently acquired Korean language skills. I wonder if actively maintaining my language skills would mean rejecting the principles of individualism and non-conformity I fought for as a teenager. I never could care for being a hyphenated American (Asian-American, African-American, Italian-American). This matter is not yet settled, and it may be some years or decades before I come near any conclusion. I do not anticipate a quick and easy answer.
Needless to say tears were shed from traveling for the first time alone and leaving behind my friends and family. Thus, after countless hours I was finally in the “Unknown” of South Korea. I had to undergo numerous“tests” in my own “road of trails” such as not knowing the Korean language, being homesick, figuring out how to wire money from America, and of course the overall cultural shock. Although, it was easier when I made six “Allies” or are we dubbed ourselves the Ridiculously Normal squad. Together we utilized Google maps to find our way when we were lost, Google translate to help us break the language barrier, and using the experience of living abroad to become more open-minded about Korean culture and our culture. Even though I made allies I also made several “Enemies”. This included the much dreaded Red Bus or dubbed “Tomato” bus that was overly packed, learning how to use chopsticks and still dropping food, battling snow and cold weather than couldn’t compare to Las Vegas’s weather even during the winter, and the larger crowds that often made us triple check to ensure everyone was still in the group. My time in Korea had allowed me to develop a love for the Korean culture, the K-pop music industry, and the people of Korea, which became a “Tempest” and made it harder to leave when the time came. In the meantime, I had gained “knowledge” (apotheosis) and skills that I wouldn’t have if I hadn’t taken this journey. I could speak more Korean than when I first arrived and knew more about the traditions and customs, I could travel independently by myself in a foreign country, and I could buy the basics I needed at local stores such as the CU. My “Ultimate Boon” was the souvenirs that I was able to bring back to my family, I had adapted and considered Korea a second home, and that I had made it through the four months even though it
From my experience, bilingual education was a disadvantage during my childhood. At the age of twelve, I was introduced into a bilingual classroom for the first time. The crowded classroom was a combination of seventh and eighth grade Spanish-speaking students, who ranged from the ages of twelve to fifteen. The idea of bilingual education was to help students who weren’t fluent in the English language. The main focus of bilingual education was to teach English and, at the same time, teach a very basic knowledge of the core curriculum subjects: Mathematics, Social Sciences, and Natural Sciences. Unfortunately, bilingual education had academic, psychological, and social disadvantages for me.
Moving to the US was a major milestone in my life, because this transfer meant that I had to leave my relatives and friends with whom I grew up for 12 years. Living in US means leaving something that I love the most. After moving to the UShadto get adjusted to the new environment, people, etc., At school whomevertalked to just answered to me, and nothing else. This made me to feel like-the-guy-with-no-friends (HM), to overcome this I have tried different sports. Finally, decided to join in Taekwondo. I did not realize that joining in Taekwondo was the first step in fulfilling my dream.
Normally in a play the role of a supporting character is to either influence or as the name suggests support the main character. In the play, ‘A Doll House’, Mrs. Kristine Linde is one of these characters, who serves the most purposeful role in terms of plot development in the play as well as helps to transform the character growth. Mrs. Linde is introduced to the audience as an old friend of Nora’s, the protagonist. She is used to highlight Nora’s childish and egotistical characteristics contrasting that of Mrs. Linde’s practical and gallant nature. She shows Nora possibilities of self-reliability and highlighting the woman’s role in society during the early nineteenth century. Ibsen uses Mrs. Linde to influence the plot by impacting Nora’s decisions and highlighting aspects of Nora and Krogstad’s characteristics.
It was the 8 o’clock in the morning on Friday, November 15th, and it was cloudy outside but the sun was peeking through the clouds. I walked through the front office of Oak Creek Elementary School and greeted the staff as they pointed me in the direction of the kindergarten classroom I would be observing. As I approached the classroom, I noticed that the school had a very warm environment and the staff was friendly and welcoming. The teacher, Mrs. Smith, and her full time aide welcomed me at the door and I felt accepted. The class had 12 children of many different ethnicities because it was a sheltered English immersion class where the students were beginning English language learners. I entered the classroom and immediately my eyes were drawn to the walls. Every wall was covered with bright, colored posters and was kept very busy. There was so much going on that I had to take a couple minutes to take it all in. The room was set up in a certain way by the teacher that was geared towards education and creating a warm environment.
“Bilingual Education looks pretty on the surface but it’s cracking up underneath,” Jill smirked as she took a spoonful of the salmon brioche. Seated at the corner of a quaint café, Jill was dressed formally as she was from her workplace. Being one of the few Eurasians who interns at an international law firm, she has definitely proven herself to be an outstanding candidate for the firm due to her impeccable command of English. However, on that day, Jill reverted to speaking conversational English as she recollected her thoughts and unveiled her experiences during her ten years of Bilingual Education.
In the article, "If Only We All Spoke Two Languages," by Ariel Dorfman, he states that things in America would be better if everyone agreed that being bilingual and teaching another language is actually beneficial. I agree with his statement because I believe that everyone should know their native language, but not be subjugated to only one. Also, It should not be frowned upon to learn another language. This may be America, but its' population is filled with many different cultures and races. Therefore, we should take the time to learn about each other's backgrounds and languages to fully understand one another.
I grew up in a predominately Hispanic neighborhood, where I was one of the twelve Asian students in my grade of three hundred and fifty and the only Chinese student in my class. I struggled to understand what my classmates, friends, and teachers talked about because they spoke primarily Spanish outside of the classroom, and I could barely count to ten. Fitting in was hard not only because of the language barrier but also the racial and cultural differences. Making friends with people who have little or nothing in common is difficult, so I attempted to copy whatever my classmates would do. I ate what they ate, watched what they watched, and played whatever sports they played. I took Spanish lessons with the family who lived below me, and in exchange I taught them a bit of Mandarin. By the second grade, I had eased into the community around me despite only having two close friends. They helped me to embrace my Chinese side while being assimilated. I could stop being someone I wasn’t, and I was not scared to be myself with them because they were fascinated by my unique characteristic from having Chinese heritage. I enjoyed living in Corona, since everything I needed was so close, and this i...