Reflection ~ 思考文章

     Blinking away tears, I tried to focus my eyes on a scrapbook of pictures summarizing friendships cemented in as few as three months. In China’s famous hotpot franchise restaurant, Haidilao (海底捞), I sat with my friends. Known for its impeccable service and waiters who wielded noodles as an intricate dance, my friends and I laughed and ate together a week before my departure back to the U.S. Discussing the past few months in between chopstick grabs for the steaming hot pot (火锅), I reflected on how Chinese is a gateway to communicating with others. 

 

    Growing up, anything remotely “Asian” was akin to a five minute drive to the only Vietnamese restaurant in my neighborhood where the owner knew me by name. As one of the only “Asians” at my school and in my class year, I never had the opportunity to connect with my heritage. It was only in middle school when I had moved to another state that I actively began exploring my interest in China’s language and culture. Looking back, I chose to study Chinese with my peers to reconnect to a culture I never really knew or understood. While some of my peers were forced into learning Mandarin Chinese because their parents feared a future of “Chinese overlords,” I soon became fascinated with the beauty of Chinese characters and their significance. Propelled by my budding interest in Chinese culture, I searched for a college with a strong Asian Studies department. 

 

    Upon learning about St. Olaf’s Asian Conversation program which covers a year long study on Asia, I was hooked. Under the guidance of Shih lǎoshī (施老师) and Quimby sensei (先生), I learned how to map everything from Taiwanese history to Japanese feudal society. During interim, the cohort grew closer as we relied upon each other for help from navigating Shanghai’s metro rails to Tokyo’s backroads. In Shanghai, my classmates and I interviewed East Normal University (ECNU - 华东师范大学) about the role of tradition and expectations. In particular, the interviewee commented that Chinese dialects were dying out because there were no longer many who were interested in speaking them. These conversations pushed me to think more about how language shapes identity. 

 

    In my sophomore year, I began to take more interest in the societal and political factors that form culture. Taking a class on “emerging adulthood” in China, the years reserved for those who are still developing their own identities, felt fitting. As a Chinese adoptee, I knew my own identity impacted my language learning. The two were inseparable. In China, the look of confusion never failed to flash in passerby’s eyes once they heard me utter any Chinese word. At first, I was unnerved at this expectation, to the point that I tried to speak as little as possible. After a while, this ridiculous fear transformed into a guiding goal. In order to overcome my fear of speaking, I made it my goal to attain fluency in order to discuss important issues such as the one child policy and Chinese adoptee identity. 

 

    The summer after my sophomore year, I had the opportunity to participate in the Critical Language Scholarship (CLS) in Dalian (大连). The summer leading up to my semester abroad in Shanghai, I strengthened my foundational Chinese language skills under my teachers. During my first class, I could barely keep up with my grammar teacher’s (语法老师) instructions or the simple introductions of my host family. Soon, my new normal consisted of full immersion in the language and culture: ordering lunches at school, exploring Dalian with my language partner, and studying late at night. In the small moments outside of studying, I spent time with my host mother and younger sister. We watched the light show at the harbor, ate numerous amounts of hot pot, and cheered for my host grandmother as she danced in a talent show. I became fully immersed in my host family’s lifestyle, who became like a second family to me. 

 

   From this experience, I soon went from saying a few survival Chinese sentences to fully communicating complex ideas. In the beginning, I shied away from talking to my host father about what we were to have for dinner due to my inability to understand him. Within a few weeks, I asked him about our dinner menu without hesitation. While eating dinner, I even asked him about the impact of globalization on education. In my Chinese Pop Culture class (流行文化), I delivered a 20 minute presentation on the progression for traditional to modern Chinese music. Each moment - writing characters, bonding with my classmates on our outings, and discussing conversations with my host family became my most cherished moments. This experience solidified my desire to become a lifelong language learner, while also expanding my interest beyond China. I wanted to learn more about the deeper historical and cultural practices which spanned beyond China. 

 

   A few months later, I was once again in China for my Fall semester at East China Normal University (华东师范大学) in Shanghai. During this time, I not only gained a deeper understanding of Chinese language, but also a broader understanding of the world around me. On my first day of class, I entered a different learning setting. Unlike my previous experiences studying with only other Americans, I was the only American in my class. ⅔ of my class was split between Korean and Japanese students whose written and reading skills became my new goals. While both St. Olaf and CLS classes improved my spoken Chinese, the term at ECNU pushed me to further develop my reading skills. Unexpectedly, I also learned more about my own identity as an American and Chinese adoptee.  

 

   During China’s golden week (Chinese New Year and Chinese National Day), my friend and I decided to go to Nanjing. While discussing our plans with our mutual friend, Qingcai 晴彩, expressed that she wanted to also go to Nanjing. However, she feared the backlash as a Japanese individual if she were to go with us. Beforehand, I never really thought about the impact of nationality on daily lived experiences. The impact of the past on present identities and actions sparked my interest in international relations. Moreover, my patchwork group of friends hailing from Korea, Japan, Denmark, and England sharing Chinese as our common language, reminded me how language is critical to connections. Once again Chinese transformed from a mere communication tool to a critical way for me to express myself with friends from all over the world. 

 

    With a heart full of precious memories and a suitcase packed with souvenirs, I returned to the U.S. Back on the Hill, I explored different parts of Asia through classes such as Professor KTP’s Asian Regionalism class. I learned about the balance of power between Western and Asian players. Through this class, I also broadened my knowledge about Southeast Asian countries’ histories and cultures. Beforehand, I knew very little about the political situation between China and other Asian countries. Building on my interests of Chinese migration policies, I explored the ethics of rural migrant women’s decisions in my Human Rights in Asia senior seminar. How does one’s cultural background and societal expectation inform an individual's ethical decisions? How much of an individual’s value system is due to their culture? I attempted to answer the questions above and more in my essay. Professor Wang (王老师)'s Exploring Digital Humanities broadened my understanding of how digital combines with humanities. Moreover, I learned how to successfully plan, design, and create digital presentation of my academic work to reach a wider audience. These classes were not only fascinating to learn, but they also challenged my perspective and opinions. 

 

   Asian studies, political science, and Chinese language classes all pushed me to critically think about my own position as a scholar and individual. There is so much more yet to learn and I cannot wait to continue my education after St. Olaf. The safe learning environment both abroad and on the Hill allowed me to grow as a person and expand my knowledge. St. Olaf provided a solid foundation for both my Chinese language and cultural understanding. The opportunities to study abroad further shaped my personal identity journey and academic interests. I also gained a deeper understanding of China and Chinese. Learning Chinese is more than just connecting with my heritage. It’s a way to communicate and meet others I would otherwise never know. 

 

   I am incredibly grateful to St. Olaf’s Asian Studies, which includes Chinese and Japanese programs. Without all different courses, I would not have grown into who I am today. All my professors and their words of both affirmation and encouragement nurtured me to pursue my own academic passions. I am also forever grateful and indebted to my fellow peers who challenged me inside and outside of academics. I cannot express enough how much these individuals provided me with insight and support through this four year journey. 

 

  Both informal and formal experiences on the Hill and abroad culminated in my desire to further explore more about the impact culture on identity formation. I thoroughly enjoy learning languages and even started learning Japanese for fun. I hope to continue cross-cultural communication experiences whether studying and living abroad or developing programs to encourage others to study abroad. In the future, I hope to work for a nonprofit like American Councils or work at a government agency focused on cross-cultural programs like Fulbright. I am confident that Chinese language will guide me to my career as it unfolds. This past year of COVID-19 challenges, abroad experiences, and personal identity reflections taught me the importance of flexibility. I welcome the future with an open mind and open heart to all the different possibilities.