People know me as Susie, but that is not my real name. That is not who I really am. My name is Zhongyue Zhang, a girl from Southeastern China. My family isn't rich; my parents aren't smart, but we had a happy life there. They poured all their love in raising me up, and nurturing me. As students, we never had time to take a break. Chinese teachers want to make every single second count, which means training us to be good test takers. However these were my best times. Don't laugh at me. I know it sounds weird and contradictory, but I mean it. I don't know how to spend my free time, so the busy schedule was perfect for me.
My parents value my education, but they also want me to have more than just grades. They sent me to academic enrichment programs to learn and improve my school grades. But they also provided me the opportunities to try different things. I learned dancing, public speaking, drawing, playing an instrument and singing. Yes, I tried all of these, and as time passed, I knew myself better. I am not that creative, and my body is not that coordinated. I failed at dancing and drawing badly. But music is my thing. I was a natural singer, and I showed great potential in playing the erhu. So, we, my parents and I, all were clear where I should put my efforts.
We didn't have much money to spare, but we lived happily. Until one day, we realized something. As I grew up, we learned that, as long as we stayed in China, we wouldn't have any future. I might end up being a janitor or a shopkeeper despite all my hard work. There is an unconquerable wall for those who aren't rich. It hurts me to know that I won't be able to achieve anything with hard work alone. Money is the key to open any door. That's when we started to consider the possibility of us coming to the US, a land of hope, and to seek a better future.
The Shadow
We thought about the difficulties of living in New York: jobs, schools, and housing. We missed the most important ones: language and culture. I thought that my English was pretty good. I passed all my English tests in China with high grades. What was wrong? I felt like a fool trying to shop in American stores. My English was broken and I didn't understand what they were trying to explain to me. I remember one day I decided to buy a muffin from Dunkin Donuts. It took me what seemed like a lifetime to explain which was one I wanted. In the end, the lady had to point to every single tray in the shop. I fled from the store as soon as I got my muffin.
It was as if only yesterday my teacher asked me whether I had a pocket dictionary with me. I knew exactly what a dictionary was, but I didn't understand her in the moment she asked. I was ashamed. I want to have a better future here, not be dammed. What could I do if I couldn't even communicate with others like a normal human being? I was always in tutoring schools back in China. Not that I wanted it. I had to do it if I wanted to do well in school. I always tried to get out of all those kinds of classes. I didn't want to "waste" my time learning the things I had to study in school anyway. I wanted to play and have fun. Ironically, here in this land of freedom, I volunteered myself to study in a tutoring school everyday after classes. I must have been feeling devastated and hopeless at the time to make such a decision. But it was a decision I will never regret. The tutoring school was a turning point of my life.
The Light
I was in level two in that tutoring school. Imagine how I felt sitting with a bunch of middle school kids, years younger than me. Imagine how I felt learning that half of the words from a paragraph have new vocabulary for me, not to mention that it was just a short reading passage designed for elementary school kids. I worked hard, learned really fast and moved on to the next level and the next level and the next level. But I wasn't always so hard working. At times I wanted to quit because it wasn't easy to memorize thirty new words in an hour. My brain just didn't want to cooperate. I was lucky that out of all the tutoring schools, I chose this one. The teacher always reminded us that nothing could happen if we were not willing to try. You know what? She was totally right about that. She told us that the only reason we couldn't remember the words is that we didn't want our brain to function so it shut down on its own. We all have the capacity to learn more as long as we believe it to be so and take action.
I didn't like learning English because I believed that English and all the other languages were hard to learn. This belief stopped me from learning, from trying. She motivated me to become a better person. She is in her early fifties, real skinny and very picky. I value her as more than just my teacher. She is a friend and a mentor to me. She taught me and helped me with most of the things I learned in the US. Even now, though I am no longer a student of hers, I still seek her out and chat with her. She graciously gives me advice about college and my future.
It's not always pleasant to be in America. I have had bad days and happy memories. Life is always hard, but I cherish what I have. Being in America doesn't mean everything, but it means a new start and with that hope, life is getting better.
The Path
It is not easy to be in a new country, to experience something totally new. I know all about it because I struggled along the way after I got here to the US. Unlike some of the lucky ones who learned the language well before landing in the states, I arrived here with just a few basic English words. Speaking in Chinese is totally different from speaking in English and learning how to take tests in English is different from learning how to use English in daily life. I was frustrated with the whole situation. I did not want to be behind in my classes.
In addition to the language challenges, being in a different country is more than this, especially for students. What I remember most vividly was my first gym experience in our school. During orientation, the teacher showed me most of our school, excluding the gym. Imagine that you have to try to find one classroom in a huge building. I was frightened. If I were I new student again, I would definitely wanted to learn about gym earlier, so I would be more prepared. I met this girl in our gym class. She is fifteen, reminding me of when I first came here, clueless about how the class goes. The day after, we met each other again in the cafeteria. She was adorable and talkative. I didn't really know how to respond at the beginning, but I caught up with her conversation. After breakfast, I brought her to girl's locker room. I remembered how confusing it was to find the only staircase going to the fifth floor, so I paid extra attention teaching her how to remember it. She got herself a locker, but then she had no idea how to use the fancy lock. This was one of my problems, too, so I knew exactly what to tell her. Then I went over some of the basic rules with her, such as changing clothes, wearing sneakers, and bringing a notebook and pencil to the class. After we got into class, I used our class contract to fill in more details about class expectations. I didn't ask her join me during lunch or to take the train with me, because I rarely go to eat lunch and my classes end relatively earlier. However, I am more than happy to assist her with anything she needs in the future.
It felt great to help someone new. As the saying goes, help a stranger because you were once a stranger too. I was once here, in this school, alone without any friends. I wished that someone was there helping me to adjust as much as possible. I think this welcoming action should be done by everyone, that we all try to be helpful to others, making our school more welcoming, creating a better environment for newcomers.
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