Timeless Language

Why did I never see a book in my parent’s hands? They would take me to the library every weekend but why did they never pick out a book for themselves. These questions always lingered in my head when I was little. Did they not know how to read? I realized the answer to this question as I grew up and found out more about their childhood. There was always something else they had to do. My mother, being the oldest daughter out of her three other siblings, had to take care of her family. She rarely had the time to study for school because she was always occupied with cooking and cleaning. Back at home women’s education isn’t prioritized. They are taught to keep accompanied from a young age so they can take care of their family after. As for my dad, he was the only boy out of his seven other sisters. He was the only man of his household since his dad passed away at a young age. He was forced to work and provide for everyone so he rarely had time to focus on school. My dad’s dream for his children was to live a life that is completely different from his childhood. When I came along he made sure that I got the proper education that he could not have. Moving to a new country with a completely different language was just another problem they had to deal with. Although, my parents saw this as an opportunity though. They taught themselves how to speak. They had to learn how to write since my dad was a waiter and he had to write down people’s orders. I’ve witnessed a considerable amount of growth as I use the English Language with others. Not only did they improve their knowledge but they also helped me in the process.

With my limited knowledge of the English language, I came into this country at 3 years old. With almost everyone around me speaking English I had to learn everything I know today about the English language from school and television. School was the one that taught me formal English while watching TV taught me how to communicate with my friends. The shows I used to watch on TV also inspired my creativity. My creativity was brought to light by my peers when I wrote my first book. Making the book wasn’t the hard part, it was sharing it out loud in a classroom filled with students that I never talk to and my teachers. This book would be the first piece of literature I worked on. It was also what helped me speak out loud in public with people. I had an accent at that age and it was very hard for me to talk to others because I would always be embarrassed about what others would think of me. I would think to myself that in their heads they are probably laughing at me for not speaking properly or saying the right terminology and vocabulary. When I was first writing that book it took a while for me to come up with what I was going to write about. After a lot of thinking I decided to write a book about myself and put a cockroach in my place. The cockroach’s name was Carooch. The story would be about how Carooch didn’t have any friends and he didn’t fit in with everyone. Everyone used to pick on him because of how different he was, but no one realized how good of a person he was inside. In the story, he would stop someone from getting bullied and he would be considered a hero. That is when he would get recognized by everyone. The night before we had to present, I read the book to my mom. She said she loved it even though she had no idea what the book was about. Her telling me how good the book was, gave me a bit more motivation to share my book with others.  I revised the book one last time before it was time to present it in front of my entire class. I was discouraged by the thought of having everyone realizing that the book was about me and it would add another reason to the list of things to make fun of me. I took my time walking to the front of my classroom taking a glance at the looks my classmates were giving me. My heart was beating fast and seeing everyone’s faces just made me even more nervous. I closed my eyes and thought about how proud my mom was of me. I took a deep breath and opened the book. The process of me reading was a bit shaky but I still managed to do it. My whole class was thrilled by the fact that I was able to create a story that connected with my own life. What I didn’t realize was that I wasn’t the only kid that could relate to the story, but many other peers were in my class that could relate to it as well. My teachers were extremely fond of me that I was able to take my personal experience and put it all into a story at such a young age. That moment gave me so much more confidence when talking to people. Writing that book was probably what helped me meet so many of the amazing people I know to this day. 

Finding the answer to the questions I’ve been asking myself since I was little was heartbreaking for me. Now I ask myself new questions. Why couldn’t my parents’ teachers make them write their own book? It helped me so wouldn’t it help them? What could I do to help the people lacking proper education in other countries? In my head it’s simple, just build more libraries in the places where there aren’t enough. When you look at the bigger picture, the solution to those problems aren’t as simple. You have to completely change the society’s dynamic. You have to change their viewpoint on education. You have to properly fund the education system. The lives of my parents and so many other families would drastically change if their society’s morals were different.

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