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In Module 13, you read Lensey Lin's narrative essay Finding Out and Fitting In in which she remembered her past experiences as a teenage immigrant to the United States

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In Module 13, you read Lensey Lin's narrative essay Finding Out and Fitting In in which she remembered her past experiences as a teenage immigrant to the United States. Read and find out about more about Lensey's life when she was a teenager.

Finding Out and Fitting In by Lensey Lin The first time our family was invited out to dinner in America, we embarrassed ourselves. We had immigrated to this country from China, and during our early days here we had a hard time with American etiquette. We were at the home of our neighbors, the Gleasons. After arriving at the house, we shook hands with our hosts and sat in the living room with the other guests. Our hostess, Mrs. Gleason, offered a tray of raw vegetables to Mother. Mother looked at it and was confused. “It’s an appetizer,” Mrs. Gleason explained. “Just a little snack before the meal.” Mother became more confused. In China, we had never eaten an appetizer before a meal. “Have some celery, Mrs. Lin,” she said. “It’s from a local farmer, and it’s sweet.” Mother picked up one piece of celery, and Father did too. Then I picked up a piece, and my brother did too. We sat there, each holding a piece of celery in our right hand. We didn’t know what to do with raw celery. Mrs. Gleason kept smiling. “Would you like to try some dip? It’s my own recipe: sour cream and onion flakes.” Most Chinese do not care for dairy products. They are not part of our diet. We rarely eat cheese and almost never drink milk. Consequently, sour cream sounded terrible. Of course we did not say that. “No, thank you,” we all said. Mrs. Gleason went off with vegetable tray to the other guests, and we carefully watched to see what they did. Everyone seemed to happily eat the raw vegetables. Mother took a bite of her celery. “It’s not bad!” she whispered. Father took a bite of his celery. “Yes, it is good,” he said, looking surprised. I took a bite, and then my brother. It was more than good; it was delicious. When Mrs. Gleason came around again with the tray, we each took another piece of celery, except my brother. He took two. There was only one problem: long strings ran through the celery, and they got caught in my teeth. When I help my mother in the kitchen, I always pull the strings out before cutting celery. I pulled the strings out of my stalk, and my brother did too. My parents also began pulling the strings out of the celery. Suddenly I realized that there was silence in the room. All of the guests had stopped talking. Looking up, I saw that everyone was staring at our family. Mr. and Mrs. Gleason, their daughter Meg, who was my friend, and all of the guests were looking at us in surprise as we busily pulled the strings off our celery. Too late, we realized that no one was pulling the strings off of their celery. They were eating it completely whole, strings and all. Unfortunately, our embarrassing evening did not end there. Mrs. Gleason announced that dinner was served and invited us to the dining table. It was covered with plates of food, but we did not see any chairs around the table. We looked around. The chairs were pushed back against the wall. We wanted to be helpful, so we carried over some dining chairs and sat down at the table. All the other guests stood there. No one else sat down. Again, everyone was staring at us. Mrs. Gleason bent down and whispered to us, “This is a buffet dinner. You help yourselves to some food and eat it in the living room.” Our family awkwardly got up from the table and quickly went back in to the living room. The other guests followed us with plates full of food. They stood around talking and eating. They tried to talk with us, but I was too embarrassed to speak. Next day Meg and I got on the school bus together. Although I was not sure how she would feel about me our family’s mistakes at the party, she was just the same as usual. “I hope you and your parents got enough to eat last night, “ she said. You certainly didn’t eat very much. Mom never tries to figure out how much food to prepare. She just puts everything on the table and hopes for the best.” I began to relax. The Gleasons’ dinner party wasn’t so different from a Chinese meal after all. My mother also puts everything on the table and hopes for the best. Meg was the first friend I had made in America. Meg was the only real friend I had. In contrast, my brother did not have any problems making friends. He spent all his time with some boys playing baseball. He loved baseball and was happy to join this group of boys after school to play. In a very short time he could speak English much faster than I could—not better, but faster. He was very fluent. On the contrary, I worried about making mistakes. I spoke carefully, making sure I could say everything right before opening my mouth. I always tried to speak accurately. My parents had studied English in school before coming to America, but what they had studied was mostly written English, not spoken. Father’s approach to English was a scientific one. Since Chinese verbs have no tense, he was fascinated by the way English verbs changed form according to whether they were in the present, past, or future tense. He was always making diagrams of verbs and their changes, and he looked for opportunities to show that he had mastered the verb tenses. Mother’s way was to memorize lists of polite phrases that would cover all possible social situations. She was constantly muttering things like “I’m fine, thank you. And you?” Once she accidentally stepped on someone’s foot and hurriedly blurted, “Oh that’s quite all right!” Embarrassed by her mistake, she resolved to do better next time, so when someone stepped on her foot, she said, “You’re welcome!” In our own different ways, we made progress in learning English. However, I had another worry, and that was my appearance. My brother did not have to worry because Mother bought him blue jeans for school. He dressed like all the other boys. However, I looked completely different from my American classmates because I wore the same outfit I had worn to school in China. Even though I told Mother that in America all the girls wear jeans, she insisted that I wear a skirt and blouse. Thus, the kids in school stopped and stared at me in the hallways. Sometimes they laughed when they saw me in my white blouse and navy blue skirt that went a couple of inches below the knees. Every day I felt mortified. I wanted to stop wearing those dark skirts so that I fit in at school. Finally, I came up with a plan. Since we did not have a car, my brother often rode his bike to the neighborhood store to pick up things for Mother. One day, when Mother needed rice and my brother was not home, I volunteered to ride his bike to the store and buy the rice. She was happy for me to help her. I got on my brother’s bike and waved to my Mother. “I’ll be back in five minutes!” When I started pedaling, I heard her shout, “Stop! You can’t go out in public like that! People can see all the way up your legs!” “I’m sorry,” I said innocently. “I wanted to help you get the rice. I guess this is why the girls in America wear jeans.” We did not eat rice that evening, and Mother was thoughtful. On Saturday, we took the bus downtown, and she bought me a pair of jeans. When I went to school wearing the jeans on Monday, I finally felt like I fit in. Then came our dinner at the Lakeview restaurant. Father wanted to celebrate because he had been promoted. He worked for an electronics company, and after his English started improving, his superiors decided to give him a promotion. The promotion not only brought a higher salary, but also was a tremendous boost to his pride. The Lakeview was an expensive restaurant. The waiters wore tuxedos and black bow ties. Soft golden light came from candles on the tables which were covered with white tablecloths. In one corner, a lady in an elegant dress played classical music on a piano. The menus were written in French. Father told the waiter we would have four dinners. First, the soup arrived in a shallow bowl. Fortunately, my parents had studied books on American etiquette before they immigrated. They understood the correct table manners. “Keep your left hand in your lap. You are supposed to use your right hand and push the spoon away from you,” whispered my mother. “It’s easier to spoon the soup up that way.” She was right. Using the edge of the bowl made it easy to get the soup into the spoon. However, the etiquette books had not said what to do after the soup reached your mouth. As every Chinese knows, the correct way to eat your soup is to slurp. This helps to cool the liquid and prevents you from burning your lips. It also shows your appreciation of the food. We followed Chinese etiquette. My father slurped. My mother slurped. My brother and I slurped. At the next table, a waiter was pouring wine. He stopped looking at the bottle and stared at us. The bottle continued to pour, and the red wine ran out of the glass on to the white tablecloth. The customers stopped eating and looked at us. Even the lady at the piano stopped playing and turned around to stare. Our family’s slurping sounded very loud. I felt my face becoming red. “I need to go to the bathroom” I muttered and ran from the table. I splashed cold water on my burning face, and as I dried myself with a towel, I stared into the mirror. What was I doing here? What was our family doing in the Lakeview restaurant? In America? I wanted to cry. Even though we violated the rules of etiquette, we learned from mistakes, and our family slowly made progress toward becoming Americanized. Father and Mother joined the PTA. They talked with other parents and volunteered to help with school activities. They met my homeroom teacher and smiled happily as she told them that I was a very hard working student. We made friends with our neighbors and invited them to have dinner at our house. They enjoyed eating Mother’s Chinese meals and invited us for backyard barbecues at their homes. I spent more time with Meg after school. She introduced me to some other girls, and slowly I began to make friends. One hot day, Meg invited me to go to a fast food restaurant after school to get a cool milkshake. “All of the kids hang out there,” she explained. We got large chocolate milkshakes and sat at a table. The noisy room was crowded with relaxed teenagers laughing and talking together. I felt happy to be a part of the group. As Meg was finishing her milkshake, she noisily slurped the milkshake. Shocked, I stared across the table at her. Meg slurped again. Surprised, I asked “Do you always slurp when you drink a milkshake?” Meg smiled. “Sure. All Americans slurp.” Lensey Lin is an immigrant to the United States. She lives and works in New York. Lensey (immigrate) to the United States with her family when she was a teenager. Now she (be) in the United States for more than twenty years, and she (become) a citizen. She feels comfortable in this country because it is her home. However, during her f1rst months in the US, she (think) she did not belong. As an immigrant in a new culture, she (not, fit in) at school. She (find) it difficult to understand her classmates in the US. Though she (know) the words they (say) ,she (not, know) the meaning because her classmates (speak) using slang. She (not, hear) these informal expressions before because even though she (take) English classes in China, her teachers there (speak) British English. proper Slowly, Lensey (get used to) the new vocabulary of her classmates. She (try) to use the new words in conversation at school. Nevertheless, she (be) lonely in the US. In China she a lot of people. She (have) (know) a lot of friends. However, in her new home she (not, have) any. One day at school, Lensey (need) a pen as she (leave) hers at home. The girl sitting next to Lensey kindly (lend) her a pen. After class, the girl talking with Lensey. She (began) Lensey her name was Meg. (tell) The two girls (be) surprised to learn that they lived in the same neighborhood. This Lensey very happy. (make) Lensey and Meg (become) friends. They (hang out) best every afternoon together after school. Although they are now adults and live in different cities, they (remain) friends, and they (keep) in touch for more than twenty years. Lensey Lin is an immigrant to the United States. She lives and works in New York. Lensey (immigrate) to the United States with her family when she was a teenager. Now she (be) in the United States for more than twenty years, and she (become) a citizen. She feels comfortable in this country because it is her home. However, during her first months in the US, she (think) she did not belong. As an immigrant in a new culture, she (not, fit in) at school. She (find) it difficult to understand her classmates in the US. Though she (know) the words they (say) she (not, know) the meaning because her classmates (speak) using slang. She (not, hear) these informal expressions before because even though she (take) English classes in China, her teachers there (speak) proper British English. Slowly, Lensey (get used to) the new vocabulary of her classmates. She (try) to use the new words in conversation at school. Nevertheless, she (be) lonely in the US. In China she (know) a lot of people. She (have) a lot of friends. However, in her new home she (not, have) any. One day at school, Lensey (need) a pen as she (leave) hers at home. The girl sitting next to Lensey kindly (lend) her a pen. After class, the girl (began) talking with Lensey. She (tell) Lensey her name was Meg. The two girls (be) surprised to learn that they lived in the same neighborhood. This (make) Lensey very happy. Lensey and Meg (become) best friends. They (hang out) every afternoon together after school. Although they are now adults and live in different cities, they (remain) friends, and they (keep) in touch for more than twenty years.