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Mike Liao September 24th, 2013 English 106 Final Draft Learning for Another Three Chinese people walk into a room to find about a hundred Asians, Hispanics, and Middle-Easterners sitting down. As soon as the doors slam behind me, almost all the faces turn to me. In this case, I did the only logical thing that an eleven year old child with stage fright could do: blush, fixate my gaze at the ground, and drag my family to the nearest seats in the back row. After getting over the embarrassing entrance, I notice that this room is the most patriotic room I have ever seen. An American flag stands as high as the ceiling, soldiers are fully dressed, a bald eagle can be seen no matter where I turn, and a bloated image of George W. Bush protruding from a tiny projector in the front. Just as I finish looking around, someone approaches the podium in the front and ushers the words I hear every morning in school, Good morning. Will everyone please stand for the Pledge of Allegiance? The daily ritual is almost instinctive at this point, but for everyone in that room, that pledge means something more today. I cannot remember anything else said that day. However, seeing my mother return to the back row with tears streaming down her face, carrying a naturalization paper she struggled two years for in hand meant that all the learning I had done was worth it. As a child, I never enjoyed learning to read or write, so I most certainly did not enjoy repeating that process when I moved to America at the age of four. I was so adamant about not reading, that I refused to help my mother learn to read English, because it involved me relearning the basics for the third time. She begged and pleaded for my assistance on passing a citizenship test. I could tell that it meant a great deal to her, but because it would inconvenience me, I would always give her an, Ill do it tomorrow. Needless to say, I never got around to helping her the

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next day, and the same routine occurred each time she asked. Even without my assistance, she studied and read every night, but because she lacked fundamental knowledge of English, it was as if she was trying to build a house without a base. This elusive trick worked for an entire year. My mother would get flustered every time, but in the end, she would give up. Finally, the day arrived for her to take the test. I travelled with her to Texas, where the tests were held. I tagged along because that meant skipping one more day of school; on the next morning, I buckled my seatbelt for the long drive. Little did I know, eight hours in a small white Pontiac can drive a ten year old insane. The drive consisted of one hour of counting horses, seven hours of playing Pokmon Ruby, and eight hours of listening to my mother attempt to memorize test questions and drive at the same time. When we finally found the correct parking lot, we parked in front of a large grey building looming overhead. Only when I entered the building did I realize how meaningless it was for her to take the exam. The first sign of trouble was her inability to read directions that led to the examination room, and after locating the waiting room, she was unable to convey her intentions for being there. I needed to act as the translator and fill out all the paperwork that she did not comprehend. When she was called to enter the small office space, it hurt me knowing that she had no chance of passing. Only after the door closed did I truly realize that I had left her on the other side, so I sat silently in the waiting room with only the tacky potted plants, a large round clock, and a very quiet receptionist. All I could do was hope for the best and wait. No one said a word; even though the scores would not be in for another month, the results could not have been more apparent. The silence on the drive back was deafening to me, and attempting to convince myself that I had no part in this, I drowned out everything with my albums of Rise Against. Once I got home, I meekly turned to look at my mother to ask what was

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for dinner. To my surprise, my question was not met by an expected, Im tired, Its late, or even a snarky Ill do it tomorrow. Her eyes said it all. What I saw was not a defeated woman filled with despair, but rather a warrior that did not accept defeat and was ready to rise to the challenge, study even harder, and still cook dinner. Seeing her ambition must have inspired something in the ten-year old version of me, because I conceded and helped her study. We made a routine for studying. Every night for one hour, I sat with her on her queen sized bed in her bland, colorless room. As I jumped around on her bed, I quizzed her on each of the 150 questions and explained what each of the questions meant. For the ones she got wrong, she would have notecards with the questions and answers written on them for the next night. We went over those mistakes and highlighted key words to that needed to be explained. I hung each new card on the walls of her room, and by the end of the year, her room was vibrant with cluster of highlighted cards with information ranging from the colors of the American flag to the name of the immigration forms for 2006. She knew every question backwards and forwards, even if I changed the wording. This time, when the test rolled around, she was prepared. During this drive, she even brought along my sister, so it was a family road trip filled with hours of annoying each other with songs and getting lost at every other turn. Once again, the car parked in front of the same grey building, but when she entered that office and the door closed behind her, there was no doubt in my mind that the result would be crystal clear. After she received the scores back, the family drove down once again to Texas. However, the car did not stop at the same old building. Instead, it stopped in front of a transparent building with glass windows. The suns reflection from the glass blinded me as I gazed upon it, and I held both my mother and sisters hand as we walked in together. On that day, when my mother came to me with a certificate in hand, I realized something. Learning was

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not only for my own benefit. I did not learn the names of all thirteen original states, historical battles in America, and the name Francis Scott Key for myself. The learning that I did impacted others that I taught. I saw the joy that it could bring and what it really meant for someone to learn and how it changed lives.