In honor of Asian Heritage Month, I’d like to tell you a story.
Remember your first day of school? Those butterflies in your stomach, the jitters in your legs and perhaps the sleepless night you had before your life would change—forever?
I do. Like most preschoolers, I was nervous and excited for my next big adventure. I couldn’t wait to meet my classmates, to learn from my teachers and to make new friends.
Little did I know, forging these relationships wouldn’t happen that day. In fact, they wouldn’t happen for a number of months after I started school—because I didn’t speak English
You see, both of my parents are immigrants. My grandparents are, too. We didn’t speak English at home. We spoke our language: Vietnamese.
Life outside of home wasn’t much different. Until my family moved to North Seattle, we lived in one of the poorest and most dangerous neighborhoods in Seattle. My family went to Vietnamese grocery stores and Vietnamese restaurants there.
During the day, I stayed with my mom as she cut hair for Vietnamese clientele at her hair salon. We were robbed at gunpoint there. During the night, I watched Vietnamese soap operas with my parents at our one-bedroom apartment. We were caught in a shooting there.
I understood what my classmates said to me. (After all, I did watch Disney princess movies.) When it was my turn to talk, however, I responded in Vietnamese. My classmates responded with puzzled looks. My inability to convey my thoughts and feelings was paralyzing and isolating.
Thankfully, my teachers and parents wanted me to succeed. They placed me in an ESL class. I’d attend for a half day, then join my classmates for the usual preschool activities: finger painting, macaroni art and story time.
Slowly, I started speaking English. To help me, my Dad invented the best car game: To win, I’d spell out and pronounce the words on as many signs as possible.
My vocabulary expanded exponentially and from it, my love for words sprung to life. Then I started forming sentences in English. I remember my first complete sentence: Will you be my friend?
As my English improved, so did my connection to the world around me. I bonded with new friends. I encountered new experiences. I shared my dreams—and learned about others’ dreams. By the end of my first year in school, I had caught up to my native English-speaking classmates.
Today, I reflect on how transformative my first steps to English were—and how it may be for many others who find their way to the U.S. Our world opens when we learn to communicate with others—and listen to them. By understanding others and sharing our beliefs, we welcome endless opportunities. Through stories, we connect with those around us and truly deepen the human experience for each other. That’s why I am who I am: A storyteller.
