It’s quite humiliating to say that I am less fluent in my first language than my second language. Growing up in America, with Chinese immigrant parents, basically means the only difference from home to home is the dialect of Chinese. My parents are fluent in Mandarin, Cantonese, and Fuzhounese. So, as a kid, these were the only languages I encountered. Up until elementary school, the only language I knew how to speak was Mandarin. Little did I know, entering the door of my kindergarten classroom decorated with various flowers and butterflies, a new obstacle awaited me: English. Being in school for roughly seven hours a day, five days a week, for 180 school days, meant I was surrounded by students and teachers who only spoke in English. Despite my initial fear, it was a pretty easy language to learn. In fact, it became an ordinary thing for me to speak in English all the time. Little did I realize that my Chinese regressed while my English progressed.

When I was eight, my parents grew worrisome that I would eventually forget how to speak my native tongue. As a result, they enrolled me in Chinese school. I remember dreading every second of it and constantly checking the clock in hopes that time would pass faster. I thought Chinese school was pointless and how I could have used that time to do other stuff I actually enjoyed. With that mindset, I continued to fail all my assignments and tests, learning absolutely nothing, wasting my parents’ money.

It wasn’t until seventh grade when I actually became aware of the importance of Chinese. My mom, frustrated with my lack of regard toward Mandarin, sat me down to have a talk. She ranted in Mandarin for nearly an hour about how crucial it is for me to be bilingual. Luckily, I was able to understand the majority of what she said. What I remember most is this: “You are Chinese. Being of Chinese ethnicity, wouldn’t you find it mortifying to be unable to speak your native tongue? If you were to go visit your grandparents in China, how would you communicate with them? Are you going to use English?” Ever since I was little, I had been very close with my grandparents. They are the sweetest humans, and to realize that I wouldn’t be able to communicate with them due to a language barrier was appalling. I took her words of wisdom and started to distinctly focus on becoming more fluent in my first language.

Switching Chinese schools again in seventh grade helped me become more engaged in learning Mandarin. The new school system was more competitive, with levels ranging from first grade to advanced. I was determined to move up to advanced one day, so I poured in all my effort. Excelling in all my Chinese classes, I was actually able to skip a couple of grades. I focused an adequate amount of time completing my Chinese homework and studying for assessments. Seeing my hard work result in high scores became a huge motivation for me to continue with my effort. I became more passionate in learning Mandarin as I set about watching Chinese television shows, listening to Chinese songs, and even reaching out to learn other Chinese dialects like Cantonese. Without even realizing it, Sunday Chinese school that lasted for three hours didn’t feel like a burden anymore. In fact, it became a learning opportunity for me to dive deeper into the language that connects my family. The language my loved ones are most comfortable with is Chinese, so I have prioritized learning more of it to better communicate with them. By learning Chinese, and maintaining my skills in English, I have discovered a balance between my Chinese heritage and my American identity.

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