Language Barriers

This week’s written post is by Suzuki Lin, an author for the Outsiders Guide and part of the High School of American Studies Class of 2021

“911 what’s your emergency?” the calm voice said over the phone. I recognized this tone: it was monotone like the “Chopstick House how may I help you” I heard every day at my parents’ old restaurant. My mom came up to me asking what the operator was saying. I ignored her and continued to explain that my mom’s car had burst into flames. A couple of weeks later I had to call Geico and the department of sanitation to find out where the car was towed to. I saw my mother cry that day. She’d finally done something nice for herself and leased a car that I wouldn’t feel embarrassed to be picked up from school in, but now it was smashed to pieces. She cried because she had spent months deciding on the cool add-ons the new car would have; it was an extra thousand dollars to get the Bose speakers that we only used for a couple of months. 

This wasn’t the first time I had to talk to a representative over the phone. I did it for the electric and phone bills, and even to request the removal of the dead tree that was in front of our house. I didn’t have a choice but to help; my English was better so I was the fixer when we had read insurance letters I didn’t understand. My grandpa would get frustrated because the only person fluent in English was a 4th grader who didn’t know what insurance was.

This was, and still is, my idea of having an immigrant parent. While they  push their American dreams onto you, you’re still stuck translating their letters and writing their text messages. At a young age, I would always hear things like “you’ve been to school for that long and you still don't know how to read a bank statement?” My reaction was always anger so I wouldn’t even be able to come up with anything to say back. Personally, it would be especially frustrating when the expectations for me were so high and I, a child, had the responsibility to put things in perspective for my mom. 

This is definitely a strange dynamic (to put it lightly) because I know I held and still hold a lot of resentment towards my mom for making me grow up so fast. For example, my mom always yelled at me when I got my report cards back, but it’s not like she helped me with anything school related. I was really on my own. My parents were always working and I don’t have any siblings so when I say I was on my own, I was on my own.

I remember calling the phone number on the stickers my elementary used to hand out to ask for homework help. I wouldn’t call often, but when I did, I remember feeling relief because I knew the person on the other side of the phone, unlike my mom, knew how to explain what metaphors were. Though they were helpful, I was always embarrassed that I had to call a random hotline while my friends' parents could help them

Holding all my resentment towards my mom created countless problems for our relationship.. My perspective changed a whole lot, however, during one of the few vulnerable moments my mom has with me. On a night walk, my mom told me about the time she was working at a restaurant, as many of our people do in the States, she would answer the restaurant's phone at her Real Estate job. My mom wanted an opportunity to be in the professional world, but she couldn’t leave my non-English speaking father in charge of the phone. When she answered the calls asking for pork fried rice, her coworkers, her “friends” laughed at her accent and her second job. 

However much I felt like I was between two cultures that I didn’t fit into, I had totally ignored my mom’s experience as a Chinese immigrant. Though I have not suddenly let go of my resentments, I realize now that my mom wasn’t there for me in the ways I needed her because she was unable to. I saw that she must feel as embarrassed as I often do when she has to look at me every time she wants to order a coffee. She has always been investing in my future and often without my knowledge, causing me to believe that I only existed to help her read letters. In a new country without speaking the language, my mom, like many other immigrants, had to work harder to have success not only for herself, but also for me. 

I know that many parents are not able to be there for their kids because they are looking at broader ways to help you succeed. I had the support of my teachers and the random people on the other end of the stinker hotline, but now, there are so many resources like the Outsiders Guide that try to offer a steady hand to students who may need one.