"Home" of My School A.M. Doshisha International Jr/Sr High School, Kyoto, Japan

"Welcome to Chicago. The present time is 9:30 p.m. Please stay seated until the captain has turned off the seatbelt sign. We thank you again for using United Airlines, and we hope to see you soon on the friendly skies." My family and I finally arrived in Chicago after the long 14-hour ride. I was sullen when getting off the plane because my mother had forced me to wake up from my long sleep. I soon forgot this displeasure, though, when we went into the airport. My eyes opened so widely that I thought my eyeballs were going to pop out. I was looking at the "sumo-wrestlers". I knew beforehand from having watched American movies that the people in the U.S. were tall, but I did not know that they were also chubby. Actually, to be honest, they were fat! From my viewpoint, I saw many big butts of those fat people shaking in front of my face from left to right. They came right in front of me as I walked along, and it was not a pleasant sight at all. I already figured out then that I was going to start out a totally different life in a totally different world. My eyes shone with delight and hope. I thought that my new life would not be so bad after all. My family and I followed the smells of coffee from the Starbucks Coffee shop and of buttery popcorn that were popping powerfully at small shops along the moving-walk, and we finally left the airport in a limousine. I got up a little earlier than usual. It was my first day to my new elementary school, which was one of my father's own choosing. I was only in 3rd grade then. I heard the water running in the kitchen, and I knew that my mother got up already. She called down the hall, "Hey Anna! Are you up?" "Yeah! I'm getting ready. I will be there in a minute," I called back loudly so she could hear me.

Of course, I was already awaked. I was so excited about this day. It was a big day for me. I gathered all of my new school supplies that my parents bought for me into my brand new pink backpack. The backpack was quite heavy with so many things in it, but that did not bother me at all. I myself was fulfilled with the feeling of excitement toward my new school life. To tell the truth, I felt more like going mountain climbing than to school with such a big backpack. I found no nervousness at that time, and I was taken over by the feeling of excitement. My parents and I ate breakfast in a rush, and we left for school right away. On my right arm, I was hanging my new lunch bag with some rice-balls that my mother had made for me that morning. I walked between my parents with a big smile on my face. I felt as if I were a 1st grader going to school for the first time. However, this feeling did not continue for long. My feeling of excitement began to change into worry as I walked along and came nearer to my new school. When we were halfway to the school, I suddenly wanted to turn back and run home. In my head, I was imagining myself in a group of blonde-headed students without my parents. This made me want to stay with my parents forever, and I did not want to let them go. But my parents continued walking without knowing anything about what I was thinking inside, and we arrived in front of the school at last. Suddenly, I began to have a stomach upset. My organs were all turning over inside. I had a very unpleasant feeling, and I really wanted to throw up. The building itself was a two-story building built beautifully with red bricks, but I felt like entering a prison where I would have no freedom to do anything. I really did not want to take my first step into the new school because I knew that I would not be able to get out of there once I entered the building. And I was right about this. I had to say good-bye to my parents right away. My mother whispered softly into my ears, "You have the home phone number. If something goes wrong, call me anytime." I replied back with worry, "Okay Mom. Thanks."

I was relieved to hear my mother say this. It showed me that she was also worried about me. She tried to comfort me in any way before it was time for my parents to leave. When I saw the door of the school close quietly behind my parents as they left, I suddenly felt that I had no more control over myself. I immediately figured out that I could not have the freedom of speech like I had been just a few minutes ago when I was with my parents. I could no longer express myself in words, which meant that I was on an equal footing as a deaf person. I was trapped in a place where no one could understand my language, and then I realized that I was all alone. I had never felt so lonely before. I wanted to cry as hard as I could until no more tears could come, out begging for my parents to come back. I was isolated from everything and everyone else, and I was trapped alone in my own small world. I still remember the feeling of being an "alien" from a faraway place. One of the unique features of my elementary school was that there was only one other Japanese besides me. My father chose on purpose to live in a neighborhood with few Japanese. He probably thought that it was the most suitable environment to learn English quickly. Obviously, I could not speak English at all, for I had not learned it in Japan. That is the reason why I did not try to speak to the others in class. When someone said, "Hello. What's your name?" I answered shyly, "My name is Anna Murano. I'm from Japan." This was the only phrase I knew. I do not remember well, but my parents were the ones who probably taught me this beforehand. I did not really understand what I was saying, but I just answered like a robot with Japanese accent. If someone asked me a question, I answered either "yes" or "no" without understanding anything. I was just talking at random. The only thing I had in my mind was my wish of going back to my parents where my Japanese could be understood. From then on, I became quieter than ever before. My mouth was sewn together so tightly that no one could undo it. I was no longer a charming happy girl that I was in Japan. I had never felt it so difficult to communicate with others when I was in Japan. When I really wanted to tell something, I often drew pictures on paper to get the idea across. But this method did not always work. In some cases, I put a bunch of words together to create my own kind of sentence. For example, when I wanted to go to the bathroom, I said, "Go toilet."

This, of course, sounded weird and vulgar, but I did not know the word "bathroom". Still, the teacher understood what I was trying to say. I spoke like this only when I needed to. Why did I have to keep my mouth shut to the others when I wanted to express myself the most? It was so unfair not to be able to talk like I wanted to. I relaxed for the first time that communication is something that cannot be ignored in our daily lives. I knew that my school life could not continue like that forever. I was on the verge of quitting because of some many difficulties that I was suffering. However, my feeling toward school began to change when I started going to the ESL class not very long after my first day. Of course, it was impossible for me to study in English with everyone else in the class, so I went to the ESL class most of the time. My ESL class was the only place where I opened my mouth. The classroom was always colorful with many decorations. It looked more like a playing area than a classroom. I thought that such a class would never exist in Japan, where the school policies are strict. Ms. Dobrin was my teacher, and she always treated me nicely. She was the very first teacher that I saw when I went to school on the first day. When I saw Ms. Dobrin, I thought, "Wow! She's like a movie star!" Ms. Dobrin was somewhat tall, and she had short blonde-hair. Her hair shone under the light. I had an aspiration for her beautiful hair. She was a "real American" for me, and she fit my own image of an American very well. I wanted to take a photograph of her so that I could show it to my Japanese friends. It felt so awkward standing with her face to face because I had seen people like her only in magazines or on TV. She assured me that I was in the U.S. Ms. Dobrin always wore some kind of a fragrance, and I still remember the sweet smell like vanilla that my nose caught whenever she walked past me. This smell comforted me. To me, Ms. Dobrin was my "mother" in school. Soon, school became fun for me, and I could not wait to go to see her everyday. There was only one ESL class in my elementary school, with a total of 5 students at that time. Of course, I was the only Japanese there. I went to this room every morning as soon as the school day began. The room was like the heaven of the school for me, and it was the only place in school where I felt comfortable. When I entered the room, I heard Ms. Dobrin say, "Good morning, Anna." I felt shy, but I then answered, "Good morning, Ms. Dobrin."

This was how my class started every day. Ms. Dobrin and I worked together on workbooks, and sometimes we played games using English. I still have my red workbook that I relied on to improve my English. It had a picture of a smiling clown on the front cover, and there were many colored photographs inside. I depended on these photographs to learn many new words like apple, right, left, arm, etc. It was my first step into learning English vocabulary. She always pointed out my bad English when we had conversations. She would say, "Anna, say that word again. What was that?" Then I would repeat myself. Our conversation always began with me telling her what I did at home. Sometimes, I told her that I ate rice and raw egg that morning, or that I went to bed at 9:30 the day before, or other simple things like that. Then, Ms. Dobrin tried to develop and continue the conversation by mainly asking me many questions. "How did you feel then?" "Did you do anything else?" "Why do you like it?" I tried to answer to these questions. I did not like the way Ms. Dobrin asked questions that could not be answered with just "yes" or "no". I always had to say something more than just that. But that was a good practice of speaking English. Also, sometimes when I worked hard on something, she gave me treats, and I always liked this idea because the treats were delicious. Like this, the relationship between Ms. Dobrin and I became closer as days passed by. In the meanwhile, I also spent a little part of my school day in the regular classroom with the other classmates. This was a major pain for me, and time seemed to pass by so slowly when I was studying in the class. The clock in our class looked as if it were not functioning. I just could not stand the atmosphere where no one could understand me. I especially hated the literature class because I could not understand anything my teacher was explaining. My head was always completely blank. English sounded like a language from another planet to me. After all, I was an "alien" in the class. Because I was in this kind of situation, I strongly hated the class, and it was very boring. In the class, I always became "someone that was not the real me." I was hiding the real side of myself by not opening my mouth to speak. I thought that I would be made fun of. Of course, I had the desire to fit in with everyone else as the real me, but that just did not work out. I cannot say that I was a super energetic girl in Japan, but I had talked to my friends about almost anything, and I had many friends who I could depend on. However, it could not be the same way in my new elementary school. It was the first time in my life that I actually felt scared of speaking. I was afraid of making a mistake and making a fool out of myself. In other words, I did not speak because I had my own pride, and I did not want to look foolish in front of my classmates. It was very stressful trying to cover myself. I felt as if I were tied to a tree and could not move freely. I found out for the first time that it was very difficult not to express myself to other people.

The time I spent in the class with everyone else was an agony for me. That was why I always wanted to escape and go back to my ESL class where I could express myself to someone else. I really hated being in the classroom. I did not even like my homeroom teacher. Mrs. Hopely was her name, and I thought that she was a very cold-hearted teacher. Of course, she helped me whenever I had trouble with my English, but I felt that she probably thought of me simply as a nuisance inside herself. This was just from my point of view, but it seemed to me that I was an annoyance to her and the rest of the class. I was sent to the back of the classroom alone to study the alphabets all by myself. Every morning, Mrs. Hopely called me over, "Anna, come back here. I have something for you to do." I did not understand what she was saying, but she beckoned to me. In the back of the classroom, Mrs. Hopely just gave me the studying materials (textbook, tape, workbook, etc.), and I had to do the rest by myself. I thought that this was ridiculous. I was already put out from the rest of the class, but even Mrs. Hopely left me out and made me feel even lonelier. Was she a person that could be called as a "teacher"? I did not think so. She could have at least explained to me what I was supposed to do, for I had no idea. But she just left me alone throughout the day. While I was studying in the back of the classroom, Mrs. Hopely was teaching as if I was not existing at all. I understood that Mrs. Hopely's job was not to teach me English, so I was not angry that she did not take some time with me to teach me English. But what made me hate her was how she treated me. She seemed to me like she really did not care about me at all. My existence was probably annoying her greatly. There were so many times when I felt that I did not want to be in her class. Sometimes, I could not stand being there. Why did I have to stay in such a hell? I now assume that I was probably the first student from a foreign country that she had ever had. At that time, I just thought that she did not like me because I understood no English. I had a really difficult time in this class. Everyday, I looked forward to going to the ESL class, and I could not wait for that time. Ms. Dobrin seemed to be the only person who understood everything about me in school. That was why I loved my ESL class. It was the only place where I could actually feel relaxed. It was my "home" of my school. When I think back about my first year in my elementary school in the U.S., I am surprised at myself that I was able to stand up to such a severe situation with no power of speaking English. I was probably much stronger at that time than I am now. If it had not been for Ms. Dobrin, I might have quitted school right away, and so I am very thankful for her now. She was the person who gave me confidence. On the other hand, though, I am also thankful for my parents who chose this elementary school for me. The severe atmosphere that surrounded me with practically no other Japanese was what gave me the power to speak English. If I had been to a school where there were many other Japanese, I most likely would have just spoken in Japanese, and I would not be speaking English so fluently now. What I want to say is that my parents chose the right kind of atmosphere for me to improve my English ability. Although my 3rd grade year was short, it is the year that I will not forget. From this short period of time, I learned how to work hard and study by myself. I gained some kind of power to become fond of studying, and this power was the thing that made me successful throughout the rest of my life in the U.S. It is important to be put into a severe situation in some occasions because you can learn so much from it. This was the first thing I learned when I moved to Chicago.

Murano, Anna (2000). "Home" of My School. Retrieved March 25, 2001, from the Doshisha International Jr/Sr High School web site: http://www.intnl.doshisha.ac.jp/projects/3sa/2000/memoir/sa2/d26-anna.html

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