Listen
In the fall of 1991, I started school in the US. I was seventh grade at the time and my mom enrolled me in the French school near our studio apartment in the Nob Hill area of San Francisco. I was a fan of the television show Beverly Hills 90210, and that was the image I had of school in the US.
In the first few weeks of school, I quickly learned the basics, like the Pledge of Allegiance and the words to America the Beautiful. I learned that when the teacher takes attendance, the response when your name is called is “here!” and not “present!” like we do in the Philippines. There’s a girl in my class named Marianne, and I learned that her name is pronounced like the name Mary Anne, not MAH-ree-ahn, like we do in the Philippines. My aunt gave me a pair of white K-Swiss, which I wore to school one day. I learned that these are called “tennis shoes” not “rubber shoes” like we call them in the Philippines. Marianne noticed them and said, “Those are awesome shoes!”
There were a few other Filipinas in my school, and they were all nice to me. The mom of one of the girls even offered to drive us to Costco because she knew we didn’t have a car yet. While there were good days like that, no matter how quickly I tried to fit in, I was frequently reminded that I didn’t.
To save some money, my family didn’t buy cans of Coke, instead we bought Shasta. The kids at school made fun of my Shasta. One of our school fundraisers was pizza lunch of Fridays. I didn’t usually participate in the pizza lunch because it cost money. They made fun of me for that too.
I made a few friends, and I thought things were going fine, until one of the girls made fun of the way I spoke. Until that day, I didn’t realize I spoke with an accent. I laughed it off, and my friends laughed too, like it was no big deal. But, that was the day I became aware that I was different.
In the eighth grade, we are all required to attend a retreat. I’ve heard of a retreat before, but I’ve never been to one. All I knew was that everyone was going, and so I went. I learned that a retreat is for people to go somewhere for a period of time, either a day or several days, and the purpose is to do self-reflection and group activities to bond with other participants. During our retreat, I actually enjoyed the activities. Then, someone from my class came up to me and said, “You seem to be doing great…I mean, given the fact that you’re not accepted here!” When I heard that, I cried. I cried a lot. One of the nuns who led the retreat asked me what was wrong, and I couldn’t explain it.
When I got back to our studio apartment, I ran to our futon bed, lay down facing the wall, and cried. That night, when my mom got home, she was eager to see me after two days, but her excitement quickly turned into disappointment when she found me in tears, and I didn’t even tell her what happened.
It wasn’t until years later, I think I was in college by then, when I realized many people have accents. French accent, Italian accent, German accent... Even within the US, there’s the Southern accent, New York accent, Boston accent... And, I learned that there are many different kinds of drinks. Not everyone has to drink Coca-Cola. And, people can eat whatever they want. It’s fine if someone doesn’t participate in the pizza lunch. I learned that sometimes people make up excuses like “I’m allergic to pizza!” so they don’t need to explain anything. And, I learned that no one has the right to tell anyone that you don’t belong.
In my family, and as an Asian immigrant, I was taught to put my head down, work hard, and focus on the positive. When bad things happened, I was told not to make a big deal and work harder. So that’s what I did, and that’s what I keep on doing.
We came to this country to work. And, for many of us, life is centered on our job and our family. While I’ve gotten better on focusing on work and working hard, I still remember those days in junior high when I felt I don’t belong.
People say “silence is no longer an option.” While I agree with that, we need to amplify another important message. That message is to LISTEN. When we speak up, sometimes people don’t listen. Yes, we do need to speak up more, but we also need people to listen more. Listen not only to those around you, but also listen to yourself.