Moving To The Us

I was fidgeting in my seat in the airplane.  It was night time, but I could not sleep.  Beside me, my papa was sound asleep.  I stared outside the window.  The night sky was full of stars.  I felt like I was riding on a magic carpet ride to my new home.  Then, the memories began play right before my very eyes.

I cannot forget that day when mama and papa told me that we were moving to the United States.  I had just got home from school.  They were so happy and excited about it.  I thought that I would be as well.  But instead, I was dumbfounded.  I didn’t know how to react.  Should I be happy like them?  Or should I feel sad.  I didn’t quite understand.  But then again, I have always been told that I have been that way.  After all, I was a teenager.  Aren’t all teenagers prone to conflicting and overwhelming emotions happening all at one time?

I went to my room and stared blankly at the walls.  It was only then that it began to sink in.  I was going to America!  I felt a smile forming on my lips. America! The land of opportunity!  The country that, up to this moment, I have only seen in television and in the movies!  Finally, I would be a part of it.  I would be the envy of many of my friends.  After all, who doesn’t want to go to America and be a part of it?

Then it hit me.  My friends!  Yes, they would be envious.  I would be in going to the place of awesome beaches, actors and actresses, models, fashion, everything.  But, it would also mean that I would have to bid goodbye to them.  Sure, there will be the Internet for me to e-mail them, chat with them and perhaps for a moment even see them and hear their voices.  But, it wouldn’t be the same.

The laughter, the parties, the sorrows, the moments when we would just hang out and bond with each other and dream about the future and what we wanted to become, that will be all gone.   I felt a pang in my heart.  Already I miss them.  I wonder what they were doing now.  Already I am miles away from them.  They are probably asleep in their beds, looking forward to another day in school.  I had let out a sigh as I felt my eyelids become heavy and then slowly drifting away into slumber.

The Harsh Reality

For the next few weeks, my parents and I did what every family who comes to America would do.  We visited almost every single tourist destination that we knew and go to.  We went to Disneyland, Universal Studios, Hollywood, Rodeo Drive, anywhere.  At the end of each day, my digital camera’s memory was filled up and I would send the pictures to my friends in Taiwan.  They would e-mail me telling me how lucky I was to be here in America.  How they wish they could enjoy the things that I am enjoying now.  I never mentioned it in my e-mails to them, but deep down whenever they would tell me about the parties they went to and the things that we used to do.

Mama and Papa enrolled me at the University High School in Irvine.  Once again, the mixed feelings came to me.  I was excited to go to school.  I have seen in television that American teenagers are always welcoming and nice.  They would always make you feel at home.  They will accept me for me.  But I was also scared.  I only knew very little English.  I was afraid that I might be left out because I could barely talk to them.

But mama and papa assured me that it was going to be okay.  I have always been able to make friends easily in Taiwan.  So, it won’t be that difficult for me to be able to make new friends and things would be like back in Taiwan.  It would just take some getting used to.  I would be able to adapt to school in no time.  After all, there are a lot of Asians here in California.  As I neared my school, I felt butterflies in my stomach fluttering all over the place.  Here goes nothing, I said to myself.

As I walked through the school grounds, everyone seemed to have known each other for a very long time.  On every side of the walkway, there were groups of girls and boys chattering and laughing.  As I passed them, some of the boys began to stare at me and point at me.  Their gaze made me feel so awkward.  Why were they looking at me that way? I wondered.  I concentrated my eyes to the concrete ground I was walking on.  Yet, their gaze seemed to be bearing down on me.  Then I heard the bell ring.

Everyone began to make their way towards the long corridors and through the classrooms.  I felt a couple of people bump me as they ran passed.  It made me feel more awkward.  Did they bump me on purpose or because they were just hurrying to class?  I didn’t know.  I tried myself to believe that they were just in a rush that was why they bumped into me.  Americans are very much into equality and they have always been nice.  But something inside me was telling me otherwise.

Then the reality came in when in my first class.  I was asked to introduce myself.  I stood in front of class and introduced myself.  As I did, I noticed some of the boys were snickering from the back of the room.  Others were looking at each other smiling at each other.  I was trembling.  I could not go back to my seat any faster than I wanted to.  Again, the feeling of eyes bearing down my neck came back.  I felt that I just wanted to disappear.  Every class it was the same.  When I got home, mama asked me how did my day went.  She looked so happy.  I didn’t want to tell her.  All I just said was it went okay, and I headed to my room.

Over the next few weeks, things just went from bad to worse.  Some of them would mimic how I talk and those who would watch will burst out into laughter.  In times that some would try to talk to me, I thought that things would get better.  But when they did, they spoke to me mimicking my accent and would walk away, laughing.  It became harder and harder for me to go to school and having to face all of these.  I felt angry and ashamed of myself because I was different.  I knew that they were mocking me because I was different and that I could not speak English that well.

I began to regret coming to America.  Why did we have to leave Taiwan?  If we just stayed, I would not have to go through this.  I began to long for my friends who were halfway around the world.  How I wish they were here with me.  They would have comforted me and would be there for me as I go through each and every single day of torment.

In dinner, my papa asked me how did my day go.  It was then that I exploded.  I told them I did not like it here.  I wanted to go back home to Taiwan and stormed out of my room.

The Turning Point

Shortly, after my outburst, my mama came into my room.  She sat beside me.  She placed her hand on my shoulder.

 “Son,” she said, softly in our native language, “I know you are having a hard time fitting in, even if you had never spoken about it.  But, you have to be strong.  Many people in Taiwan would do anything to be where we are now.  You can overcome this, my son.  We are here to support you.  Believe in yourself that you can do it.  If you give up, then the battle is completely lost without you trying.”  With that, she left the room and me with my thoughts.

Looking back, what she told me had been the turning point of my life.  I began to learn English on my own.  I tried my best to excel in class and I did.  Slowly, the boys and girls who used to taunt me began to talk to me and began to invite me to seat with them during lunch.  I even developed friendships with a few of them.

People have always said that it is in college when you will have a taste of the real world.  In my case, I had my taste when I was in college.  I learned that the world can be a tough, cruel world to live in.  People will mock you and taunt you and criticize you because of the color of your skin, or because you talk differently.  The experiences I had gone through in high school had made me stronger, and it had taught me a valuable lesson.  For as long as I believe in myself, I can accomplish anything.  As I continue my road towards my desired career, I would never forget the lessons I had learned about myself in high school.  It is not what only makes me unique.  It has also made me more prepared for whatever the future has in store.