My Second Language

My Second Language

My Second Language

Living in the United States as a Korean-American was not an easy task growing up. Sure I knew how to read and write English, but I did not know how to read, speak, and write my native language. It was difficult for me emotionally because I felt other people looked down on me especially Korean adults who often asked me why I did not know how to speak Korean in which I had no direct answer. “You should know how to at least speak Korean,” they commonly spoke in a friendly tone, trying not to hurt my feelings. In my seventh grade year, I had the urge to take a step in order for me to fit in with the rest of my fellow peers, the Korean sub communities, and feel better about myself.

One Saturday morning, while other teens were probably sleeping in, I woke up early to get ready for my first day of Korean school. My mother had gracefully accepted my urge to learn Korean a few weeks before and enrolled me in a Korean school located at a nearby high school. As I arrived, I could feel the warm sunlight shining in my face while I saw other children who were definitely younger than me scurrying around and playing in the quad. My mom and I stepped into the office and met with the director. He was an older gentleman who looked experienced. They conversed in Korean, while I was questioning myself deciding if this was the right choice. Several minutes later they finished and my mom whispered in my ear, “I will pick you up at one when your first lesson ends.” I waved and then director told me to go to room five. I did not know what to expect as I was finding the room, still deciding to back out at the last minute. This was what I wanted and I had to go on with it. For what seemed like a long time I found the room and gently opened it to see what was in store for my new skill.

In classroom I saw several children who looked like they were in the first grade staring at me as if wondering why I was in there. The teacher, who was dressed proper and looked as if she was in her mid thirties, directed me to an open seat. One of the kids bluntly shouted, “Why is he in the first grade level classroom? Is he stupid?” The classroom filled with laughter except the teacher. Although it came from a first grader, the words he spoke upset me. I wanted to run out of the room, go home and never come back again. The teacher then introduced herself stating her name was Mrs. Kim and that she would be my teacher. I could tell she was a friendly teacher and had a lot of patience to help people even my age to achieve in what we all came for.

The first day was complicated because I was in a grade level that was significantly lower than what I was supposed to be in, but Mrs. Kim was always there for me if I had any questions. My first impression of with her was correct and she assisted me more than the other kids because I had a lot of trouble pronouncing the Korean alphabet while the other children already knew how to do that plus read and write it. She gave me extra homework to do at home so I could catch up. I complained numerous amounts of times but she did not give in to my whines and pushed me every week. Saturday after Saturday passed and I missed my favorite morning cartoons. I often questioned what I had gotten myself into but I was committed to learn. When two months passed I was still behind with the rest of the class. My classmates often bickered at me and teased me that I could not speak Korean yet. I wished to pound them with a fist but as I was older I knew this was not the choice.

My mom and I spoke in English ever since I could remember but I finally decided to make the choice to speak in Korean all the time. “Mom, can we speak in Korean for awhile so I can practice more and catch up in Korean school?” When I asked her this she smiled and agreed without hesitation. The first few days were awkward because this was a new experience and I could not respond fast enough. My mom had a lot of patience with me and waited patiently as I responded to her questions.

While six months into the school, Mrs. Kim and my mom saw improvement since I first started. I knew the basics and it was a start where I could only learn more and more. I felt an exciting rush in my body as I saw the results of my homework and tests. My classmates did not tease me as much anymore and I was about the same level with them. My homework