“Wow, you’ve grown so much! You’re so skinny, have you been eating enough?” People I’ve never seen in my life jostle me around the room, shouts of exclamations in Chinese ringing in my ears. As is typical of a Chinese family gathering, at least 20 relatives congregate around the big glass table, all talking to me at once. I’m totally lost in the complex dialects, and as I struggle to respond to the bombardment of questions, all I can manage is stuttering and half English phrases. I desperately try to cover up my broken Chinese by laughing and making some vague gestures, yet I wish that I had been as impressively fluent as my cousin who grew up speaking Chinese in her household.

The rest of the dinner goes the exact same way, each grandparent passing by to interrogate me on my life in America. My heavy accent is obvious and I barely respond with a coherent sentence, feeling disconnected as I try to navigate the conversations around me. As I retreat into the corner of the room in shame, I think back to my Chinese classes and regret not paying attention. Although I had gone to Chinese school as a child, I never appreciated the value of it, shrugging off the lessons as something irrelevant. If I had put more effort into learning about the culture as much as the language, maybe I would remember the content and be able to connect with my relatives.

The impact of native culture is undeniably important to the children of Chinese immigrants. Most prominently, the disconnect between relatives in China and America proves one of the biggest consequences of not learning Chinese.

Without the communication and connection that comes with the Chinese language, it’s difficult to forge a bond with family members whom you’d otherwise learn significantly from, leading to a loss of cultural traditions in families over time. As a result, unwritten stories of childhood memories and grandparents’ delicious traditional recipes are lost to time.

It’s no secret that many Harker students are Chinese, but surprisingly few are proficient enough to read and write. With a schedule packed full with academics, most simply don’t have the time to learn Chinese, much less foster the curiosity to learn about the deep culture and traditions that are tied to its roots. In fact, in a survey of 127 students of Chinese descent at Harker, 27% considered themselves to be advanced in reading Mandarin, with only 20% advanced in writing. 

I often hear students at Harker complain that languages are difficult to learn, but many students also regret not learning the culture thoroughly. In the survey, one student responded, “I want to be closer to my heritage, but my Chinese classes (which are outside of school) are extremely boring.” Another similarly stated that they regretted not learning reading and writing, as they felt they lost part of their cultural identity.

One respondent wrote at length about how proficiency tests did not accurately measure a student’s true ability to talk with a native speaker, while another reply mentioned that writing Chinese, “often [looked] like a toddler’s art project”, yet they felt it was worth the struggle because it “connects [them] to a history thousands of years old.”

I started Chinese school in first grade, spending my lower school years bent over the tedious and monotonous Chinese workbooks. By sixth grade, I felt that it wasn’t worth my time and quit. However, I recently reconnected with the language in an AP Chinese class outside of school. My teacher, an overly talkative and intensely passionate advocate for learning Chinese culture, forced us all to read articles on aspects of Chinese culture. Everything from pandas to Chinese school systems to kung fu stories inspired me to keep learning, even after the class ended. My teacher often encouraged us to talk to our parents and grandparents in Chinese, to ask about their life and practice listening skills. I didn’t realize it at first, but the small act of conversation with people I hadn’t considered deeply before helped connect me to my family much more.

Cultivating the desire to learn from your family a little more can make a huge difference. Putting down your phone during dinner and asking your parents about their life in their home country could bring a discussion that wouldn’t have occurred without prompting. Even if you don’t want to learn the native language, understanding the culture and traditions behind it will significantly improve your confidence and allow you to further connect with your family. 

While Chinese culture occasionally still seems daunting to me, actively making little changes like speaking more in Chinese has brought me joy. Eagerness to learn can change your perspective of your native culture, no matter what ethnicity you are. Even if I’m not as fluent as a native speaker, at least I can outdo my cousin.