My relationship with language is complex. And it’s okay.
Rachel Wong is a Yunlin County ETA from Atlanta, Georgia who identifies as a Hong Konger American immigrant. She co-teaches grades 2 to 6 at two elementary schools in the county. When she’s not teaching, she’s either trying out a new food vendor, going to KTV with her LETs, or killing mosquitoes that love her a bit too much.
When 2019 came to an end, I attempted to reflect on my five months in Taiwan but struggled to come up with a story about personal growth, not even something related to resilience or cultural sensitivity. It wasn’t until the end of my sixth month in Taiwan that my story about personal growth dawned on me.
The half year that I have spent in Taiwan didn’t just improve my Mandarin skills; it made me confront my relationship with languages. In Yunlin County, an area with few foreigners and even fewer Asian Americans, I had to constantly explain my identity in simple Mandarin that I wasn’t Taiwanese and that “Yes, I REALLY am from the US.” Sure, the explanations got repetitive at times, but in retrospect, these conversations made me reevaluate my own perspective on language.
As a child immigrant from Hong Kong, I am extremely self-conscious of my Cantonese and like to remind people that my level of Cantonese is at around second grade proficiency. In the US, I didn’t grow up in a Hong Kong diaspora community and I didn’t go to Cantonese school on Saturdays. While I’m perfectly capable of using Cantonese to communicate and navigate Hong Kong on my own, I struggle in explaining complex topics using the language. I can confidently articulate my thoughts in English but am frustrated at my inability to do the same in Cantonese.
During this winter break, something clicked. Perhaps it was the constant explaining of my background that reaffirmed my immigrant identity in Taiwan or the three-hour long Cantonese conversation that I tried to carry with my hair stylist in Hong Kong, but a wave of internal calm washed over me. For once, I felt comfortable having various levels of proficiency in a number of languages. These levels of proficiency make up my identity and my personal relationship with each language.
I speak Cantonese like my mom because we only have each other in the US. I understand some Mandarin because of my Fulbright fellowship in Taiwan and my experience in reciting Chinese poetry in Mandarin as a child. I learned Spanish because it allowed me to communicate with a different demographic and to speak with my friend’s parents. I learned Korean because I studied abroad in Seoul for four months and had a genuine interest in Korean modern history and culture. Without doubt, each language represents a part of my life experience.
I’m sure that my turbulent relationship with language is not an uncommon occurrence, but one that is common in the immigrant narrative. It has been a long, long journey for me to get here. But now, I can genuinely and confidently say that I’m proud of my knowledge of my languages. I don’t need to be fluent in a language to be confident in it, and I’m proud that my language abilities are a reflection of my international experience and my complex, immigrant identity.
Scroll down for some highlights of Rachel’s first semester in Taiwan.
At the Fulbright Midyear Conference, each county had to present their experiences creatively. For one of our posters, we made trading cards of all eight of the Yunlin ETAs and other conference goers can collect one card by taking a quiz to find out which Yunlin ETA they are most like.
My fifth grade boys are generally pretty shy, but apparently, their love for motorcycles makes them overcome their shyness. When the local police department came to visit, they allowed others to get on their heavy duty motorcycle. When I tried, the boys wanted me to get on, ride away, and steal the motorcycle.
Many people wonder what there is to do in Yunlin, but the county is filled with rich history and culture. We have some of the most famous temples in Taiwan and the biggest Hungry Ghost Festival in the country. This photo is from a short hiking trip that the ETAs took in Gukeng Township, which is known for coffee.
Besides being in Yunlin, I also love traveling around Taiwan. Although Taiwan is small, each city and county has its own character. Sometimes I miss being in a large city, so I enjoy making day trips to Taichung on occasion because of its proximity to Yunlin. There’s a bus that runs directly from my township to the center of Taichung in just a little over a hour, and it only costs $140 NTD. That’s less than $5 USD to visit a whole new city!