For days I’ve dreamed about revenge. My anger slowly turned into hate, as I drew up all sorts of schemes for the most satisfactory reprisal. I was convinced the only way to survive in this school was to do fight for my own space. I thought if I could outperform them in their own game, I would be accepted as someone they’d respect. I would save the boss for last, because without his henches, Steven would be nothing. That was my unique thinking.
Ms George, my teacher at the time was a very sweet blond woman of about thirty. She was patient with me and took some private time off to teach me school rules and daily routines. She even overlooked the countless times I blatantly cheated on the spelling tests. Afterall, how could a fob Chinese kid who barely spoke a word of English get more than half the words right? Even though she looked out for me in many ways, there were some things she couldnt see…
When I first came to the USA, I lived in a basement. My dad was in the USA a year earlier so he already had everything stabilized when me and my mom got here. When he first unlocked the door, I thought it was the most awesome thing in the world; rooms in the basement! Having no problem with jet lag at all, I jumped right into bed at 10pm, ready to start my first day in a new country. Outside the living room, I could hear my dad say to my mom “I already signed him up for school, he starts tomorrow, Ill take him there.” All hell broke loose.
Whether its school pride or national pride, a Chinese elementary school student is full of it. Depending on their academic performance, a Chinese student would eventually be issued a “red scarf” at one of the many initialization ceremonies held in first grade. The stronger your academics, the earlier you get to be “initialized.”