A Language of Her Own
Xirui walked through the wooden hallways of their new house in America, marveling at all the space they now had access to. She had considered their apartment back in Shanghai, China, pretty big, but this was just insane. Who had two entire floors available to them?
“Xirui? Xirui? Can you come downstairs, please?” Her mother called to her in Mandarin.
She rushed down the stairs.
Her mother was in the kitchen, glaring at all the cardboard boxes they had to unpack. When she saw Xirui, her face lightened. “Here, help me out with this.”
Before Xirui could even speak, her mother shoved a heavy bag into her arms.
“Ma, what is this?” She asked, trying to balance the bag on her knee while peering inside.
But her mother was already waving her off, busying herself with another box she had opened. “Just take that up to my room. I’ll tell you later.”
“Sure, Ma.”
The next morning was Xirui’s first day of school.
Her mother led her through a huge campus, passing by laughing children in colorful clothing, towards a classroom near the back of the building.
“Have fun, and behave,” her mother told her.
Xirui rolled her eyes jokingly. “I’ll be fine, Ma.”
“I’m sure you will.” Her mother smiled at her, and then t
The bell rang, and Xirui followed the line of students as they filtered inside the door.
Xirui glanced around the room. Her eyes dragged over the faces of her new classmates, trying in vain to remember them all.
If there was one thing Xirui was good at, it was learning. She could learn from anything: the back of a carton, captions under pictures in a magazine, or subtitles from a show in another language.
She couldn’t wait to learn here, too.
That was until her teacher — a squat woman with her graying hair tied up in a bun — opened her mouth.
What? What was she saying?
Xirui couldn’t understand a single word.
Was she supposed to? Was this some sort of trick, or joke?
Xirui glanced around, but her peers seemed to understand the content just fine.
Oh, wait.
Xirui had forgotten. The only language she’d ever spoken in her eleven years of life had been Mandarin. She’d caught snatches of English conversations between older students at school in China , and some had even taught her a word or two, but that was the most she knew.
The teacher was still talking. She paused, and the students around her laughed.
Xirui blinked, trying to hold back the tears in her eyes. A numb sort of panic had begun to spread through her limbs, freezing her to her seat. She wanted to ask someone for help, but who? And how? And what if they laughed at her, or didn’t want to help her, or thought she was being stupid—
Calm down.
Xirui knew what she had to do.
She raised her head, and almost started panicking again when she saw that everyone was staring at her, including the teacher.
She blinked.
The teacher looked down at her paper, then said something that resembled her name.
Was this attendance?
“Hm. Xirui’s a little difficult for us to pronounce. Would it be possible for us to call you, let’s say, Cherri, instead?” The teacher asked in English.
Xirui didn’t understand.
She nodded, because nodding was always the safest bet.
The teacher smiled, so that was probably the right choice.
The day dragged by. They were let out a couple times for break and lunch, and Xirui tried to pay attention, but it was hard not to let her gaze wander when she couldn’t understand anything being taught.
Xirui was called on a few times. Each time, after staring for a few moments, the teacher sighed and called on someone else.
Not a great start, but what could she do?
At the end of the day, Xirui bounded towards the school gates, ready to tell her mom, but her steps faltered. Her mother stood at the entrance, her brows furrowed and a strange expression on her face.
“Ma, what’s wrong?”
Her mother looked up, and forced a smile on her face. “Nothing! It’s just, the cultural differences are a little bit more exaggerated than I thought. But don’t worry about it! Tell me, how was your first day?”
Xirui paused, gnawing on her lip. Before they had moved to America, her parents have told her about how different their lives would be in a different country. Was it really right for her to complain about what she was experiencing when everyone was going through similar struggles? And school was too bad — she was sure she could pick up enough phrases and words to survive the rest of the school year.
Xirui smiled. “It was good.”
And that was the end of that.
Two weeks passed by in a blur.
Xirui learned the basics of what each day looked like, and tried her best to copy from others whenever she was handed assignments. Eventually, the teacher stopped calling on her.
And then came mile day.
Xirui stretched in the grass, feeling her bones pop. She didn’t like running much, but she was surprisingly good at it.
They lined up on the track.
Xirui wasn’t sure what the teacher was saying, so she just started running when all the other kids did.
By the first lap, Xirui was in the middle of the group. By the second, she had moved up to fifth. By third, she was first, and she finished far ahead of everyone else.
Her teacher glanced down at her watch then back up at Xirui, exclaiming something.
Xirui blushed and ducked her head.
The second person that came up to her was a girl. She had sparkling blue eyes and blonde hair, and sat next to Xirui in class. The only reason Xirui knew her well was because she always let Xirui copy off of her.
The girl bounded over, smiling and saying something.
Xirui shook her head, trying to show that she didn’t understand.
The girl frowned, then jogged over to the teacher, explaining and gesturing while periodically glancing back at Xirui, who stood there awkwardly, unsure of what to do.
A few moments later, the teacher went to Xirui. She smiled and gestured for her to follow.
Uh-oh. Xirui swallowed, hoping that the girl hadn’t said anything bad about her.
She was led to the office, and left to sit in a chair. She swung her legs back and forth, wishing she could’ve taken a sip of water before coming here. She had just run the mile, after all.
A couple minutes later, a tall woman came out. She saw Xirui, and even though she wasn’t smiling, a feeling of peace washed over her.
“You’re Xirui?”
Xirui nodded, then paused.
The woman was speaking in Mandarin.
“You speak Chinese?”
“It would appear that way. So, how have you been dealing with school these past few weeks?”
“Uh…” Xirui glanced towards the door. “It’s been… well, you know, it’s a little challenging trying to learn in a school that doesn’t speak your language.” She fidgeted with her hands.
The woman nodded. “I’m sure it is. I’m Mrs. Yuan. I’m this school’s English learning coordinator.”
Xirui sat up straighter. English learning coordinator? Did that mean they were going to teach her English?
“Your teacher mentioned that you haven’t been talking a lot in class,” Mrs. Yuan continued. “And that you’ve been copying off of other students.”
“Oh.” Xirui smiled sheepishly. “I didn’t know it’d be that obvious.”
“No matter how obvious it is, iIt isn’t completely your fault,” Mrs. Yuan pointed out. “But if you bothered to tell anyone that you couldn’t speak English, we could’ve avoided all of this.”
“Sorry.” She winced inwardly. “So, what’s going to happen now?”
“Well, you’re either going to work with me or another language teacher everyday to improve your English. And your teacher is going to make lessons easier for you.”
Xirui hesitated. “And what happens if I can’t learn it?”
“We have time, Xirui. Don’t worry.” Mrs. Yuan, for the first time in their conversation, smiled.
Xirui couldn’t help but smile back.
When she got home, Xirui admitted all her struggles to her mother.
Her mother was quiet for a moment .
“Come. I want to show you something.”
Xirui followed her mother as she went upstairs. She opened the closet doors and pulled out the box that she had asked her daughter to carry up weeks before.
She opened the lid, and Xirui’s eyes brightened as she saw what was inside.
English textbooks.
Her mother looked at her apologetically. “Sorry, Xirui. I forgot to give you these earlier. I knew it would be a struggle, moving here, but I didn’t know it would be this difficult.”
Xirui smiled. “It’s okay, Ma. I’m okay.”
And she meant it. She could belong here, in between two worlds, and she could learn the ways of one while still holding on to the other. Xirui could learn a language of her own.
Great work! I’ve suggested a few tweaks, but they are minor. I love the insights into Xirui’s emotions and how we can understand why she does what she does.
Make sure you indent each paragraph break 🙂
