Wednesday, October 2, 2013

Blog Entry #4 - Class #4

I was born in Venezuela and came to this country on a December 24th, we had a white Christmas that year and I remember everything looked beautiful. I was 9-years-old and I didn't quite understood the fact that we were coming to live here. I was in the middle of 5th grade and after Christmas pasted and all the fun was over, I was enrolled in school. It wasn't really until I started school here that I fully understood what coming to this country to live was all about. I was in a new school, a new country, with no friends. I was terrified; there was no going back. I didn't understand the fact that I wasn't going to go back to my country, my school, and my friends. I was here with my family and that made me feel a little better but things just got worst when I was faced with the fact that I had to learn a new language, a new culture, I was forced to have a new life; I had no other choice.
I remember being in school, my teacher spoke Spanish to all the class since I was enrolled in the bilingual program. That was very nice actually, it helped me feel better about being in a different world; at least my teacher and my class mates spoke my language but I still had to learn the English language. Things were so frustrating that even the smallest things made me feel terrible. I remember being in my math class with my Spanish speaking teacher and during that time she was teaching us how to divide. Is all numbers right? How hard could it be? Well, at that moment I realized that it was actually different. What I mean by that is that in the United States they divide backwards; when you are solving a division problem manually you have to draw a line, plug in the numbers and then you subtract and eventually solve the division problem. Well, in Venezuela they draw the line backwards, there is no subtraction written and eventually you get the answer.
So, picture me, I am sitting in class and this impacted me so much that I can see myself setting in that classroom like it was yesterday. My teacher says to me not to worry and to just solve the division problem the way they do it in my country and that with time I’ll get the hang of how it is done here. So, I am sitting there, starring at the numbers because guess what? I was in the middle of the school year and I didn't know how to do it the way they do it in my country either. I felt horrible, stock and I didn't know how to tell my teacher in front of everybody that I didn't know how to solve a division problem. So I wasn't only struggling with English, but with Math as well. Eventually I got the hang of solving that way they do it here, it was actually easier, I guess. Besides this craziness I was faced with having to learn inches, feet and miles instead of centimeters, meters, and kilometers; what a crazy country! I thought. It was like even the smallest things were different and I had to learn everything. It took me a long time to get the hang of things, and I always felt behind. You would think kids learn faster or pick things up pretty quickly but it wasn't the case with me. I was very shy and intimidated by all these changes so I was moving forward very slowly. I stayed in the bilingual program for a long time, from the middle of 5th grade all the way up to senior year in high school; that’s more than average I would think. I stayed for that long because I refused to put into practice what I was learning in English, I was in the bilingual program after all so I thought I could just stayed there forever. My teachers and class mates spoke Spanish so I thought I could get away with it. After so long I learned regardless, I understood a lot of what people would speak around me but I was so afraid of speaking. I refused to speak or make an effort because I was so intimidated by the, what if I don’t pronounce something correctly or what if I say the wrong thing. I never felt completely comfortable to let myself go all the way and just practice to get better at it. Every time I would start to get comfortable my family would move so every certain amount of time I had to go to a new school, be afraid all over again and have to get adjusted to a whole new environment.
So that you can keep track with how many times I moved, I’ll break it down for you. First, I came to this country when I had been in the same school in Venezuela since I was in kinder garden. My lifetime friends were there. Then we came to this country and I was in one school from mid-year of 5th grade until mid-year of 7th grade. Then, we moved so I changed schools and attended there from mid-year 7th grade until I graduated 8th grade. Then I was off to high school, I had to change schools anyway. So I was there for three and a half years then I had to move again. So after all my high school memories with friends I had finally made I had to start all new again. In the month of January, I continued my senior year and graduated in a brand new school. I didn't attended prom because I didn't really know anybody that I could go with me; I was introduced by a couple of people but they weren't my friends really so I decided not to go. I didn't appeared in the year book because I came too late in the school year and I appeared on my prior high school’s  year book but I was unable to buy it.
So, going back a little I want to mention that by about sophomore year in high school I was willing to speak English only when I had to, like to some teachers, personnel in the cafeteria or if anybody needed help translating. But I still didn't feel all that comfortable. All my friends spoke Spanish and I spoke Spanish at home so there was no big need to put into practice what I had learned. When senior year started they transfer me to regular classes, meaning I was no longer in the bilingual program; all the classes were taught in English, the teachers didn't speak Spanish. So my class mates weren't the same anymore. A couple of the kids from the bilingual program were transferred to regular class as well so I at least knew some people.
So since I was transferred to a new school in January even worst during my senior year, I didn't get a chance to make new memories. I made two friends there whom I can’t really remember how we started talking since I was a senior and they were a junior and a freshman. They were so nice to me though and they introduce me to a couple of more people but they were all in lower grades than me and we weren't friends. One special person was introduced to me back then though, and that is my current boyfriend, yes that’s how we met. We weren't really close then, and even though we were both seniors and we started to like each other a little it wasn’t enough to go to prom together…
So after all the craziness of moving from one place to another and being in new environments, I eventually felt like there was a reason for me to have moved all the way here and even to transfer schools in the middle of my senior year.
I am very glad I met my boyfriend, it probably would've never happened if I would've not changed schools. We have been together in many adventures and we continue to make new memories. We have great plans for our future including getting married and forming a family. I don’t know if it was so bad to have had to come to this country after all. I’m in love, I’m now an English major-Writing Option. I’m in a happy stage of my life. I now understand that what you go through only makes you stronger even if you are frustrate it. I understand that God has a perfect plan for my life even when I think things don’t make sense.

 Who would've thought that I was going to become an English Major after not even wanting to speak the language? I love the fact that I am able to speak two languages and help those who are still in the process of learning the language.

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