Losing Myself

Losing Myself

Being born in the Philippines and being raised between my birth country and Japan, I was taught completely different languages than that I speak today. From the beginning of my life, I was embedded with the languages of Japanese, Tagalog, and some Chinese. Not only did I learnt and understood these languages, I was also influenced with the Asian lifestyle. I had to show respect to my elders, always be with my family, and incorporated religion and cultural traditions into my everyday life. Then, with a sudden whisk, I was brought to America at the age of five years old with my mother. My mother wanted to live that "American dream" that she has heard. So with her "imperfect English" and me with no knowledge of English, we first moved to Oregon. There I attended my first English school. I was shocked with the culture differences that they practiced in America. I realized that the families are broken apart, the Asian Americans appear to have never practiced their cultural traditions and language, and some children do not pay their respects to their elders. I see how American culture collides with what I was taught; I progressively adapted this culture change. I gradually adjusted to my environment in Oregon, and then my mother decided to move to California, then to Hawaii. Moving to this new country and jumping around the different states, learning a new language and culture was imperative. Taking in English and the American ways slowly over took me; thus caused me to lose myself I

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had not realized it in the beginning, but by being entranced with the television shows, the food, and the American lifestyle, these factors slowly made me forget "me," the self that I identified with when I was younger. Learning English took over me; the fact that I was held back gave more of a reason for my mom to speak to me in English, instead of my native languages.

As each day went by, I easily forgot who I was. The emptiness that dwindled inside grew bigger and I could not stop it. I looked at the people who have grown up in America, a place that gives people freedom and independence, and I am green with jealousy. I was jealous at the fact that they are able to communicate easily with the person next to them. Unlike these native-born speakers, I struggled with expressing how I felt or what I wanted to convey. There are occasional times when I felt like no one understood me; sometimes I secluded myself from the world. I just could not compare to the "perfect English" that those around me used. Comprehending certain things did no come easily for me, as it was for others. Comprehension was not my forte and strained me mentally and physically. Not being able to understand and communicate with this language, I had difficulty making friends. At such a young age friends is something that I wanted to have. I was ashamed, I did not know how to speak good English and I felt as if they would not like me because I could not communicate well.

When I was in first grade, my teacher explained that English is the most used language. After hearing that, I thought to myself, this language is known around the world? How is that possible? The English language I heard people use around me daily is spoken throughout the world and I could not even make a simple sentence, I felt stupid, to put it in a simple term. I guess that was why I was held back, I could not use the English language properly. In a result of this, my mother spoke more to me in this universal language, English. Everyday seemed as if I

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lived, breathed, and dreamt of the English language. I went to school spoke in English, went home, and spoke more English, and even in my dreams, I was reciting the alphabet, it haunted me. I could not escape from the nightmare; there was no place for me to find comfort. As a young girl, I did not want to "conform" to a new life. I wanted to be Japanese, not American. Personally, I liked who I was before I moved to America; I liked how I knew different languages and how I was different from everybody around me.

Years of English classes, tutoring sessions at the Kumon learning center, and the influences of friends and family, my English improved. Of course, my English was not that "Perfect English" I wanted to achieve, but being able to understand this language more, allowed me to communicate with others. Slowly I was able to make friends and through them, they helped me realize that there are different forms of English. Not just that "Perfect English," but also a variety of English's. Throughout my elementary and middle school years, I gained friends that I never forgot. Each of them had helped me cross the language barrier that I struggled with when I first moved to America - Hawaii. They showed me that even though my English is broken or "imperfect," there are other means of communication. These new attained friends had explained everyone is unique or different in their own way. They are not just unique because of their speech or the way the communicated, but because of whom they are and how they are defined because of the experiences that they undergone.

My journey of experiences did not come to an end at middle/elementary school. My middle school years with my friends at Our Savior Lutheran School was about to come to an end. I had left after sixth grade to attend another school, Saint Francis School. I brought my "simple English" and I slowly went through the process of making new friends again. This time around

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was much easier; I knew the