A six-year-old child was not supposed to understand what it felt like to experience the brunt of humiliation and disappointment. A six-year-old child was not supposed to realize what it felt like to be ostracized by his or her peers. Kids are meant to be the epitome of innocence and mirth, having many years to be as imaginative and childish as they wanted. However, that was not the case for me.
From a very young age, the terms, “nerdy Chinese,” and “geek” were thrown around quite often. Asian students were often stereotyped as being the most intelligent children in school. More specifically, as soon as we entered school, other non-Asian students would contemptuously remark, “Oh, you’re supposed to be good at math and science, right?” In my community, that statement was mostly correct. Almost all of my friends had the potential of being deemed a child prodigy in mathematics or science. Despite their grade level, they could efficiently solve math problems way beyond their years. In fact, by the sixth grade, many of my friends could compute equations and problems from the AMC (American Math Competition) Test.
For me, however, I was a bit slow when it came to learning and retaining even the most rudimentary of mathematical concepts. My parents were very alarmed by how much I suffered at math in comparison to my friends. They began hiring tutor after tutor, hoping to boost my mathematical abilities. However, I still could not get past this mental block of mine. I just could not understand how these numbers could be arranged and combined to create another number.
As time went by, each math class became more difficult, and I was still struggling to grasp the concepts taught in the year before. At around the same time, my mom’s friend announced that her son, who was also my friend, would be attending a weekend class that would be aimed towards teaching children more advanced math and asked if I was interested in participating in this class with him. My mom rushed towards the opportunity to enroll me because she believed that I could have a breakthrough in math with the help of this teacher.
As soon as I entered the class, I felt a sense of dread overtake my entire body. The woman who would eventually lecture me and my friend for the remainder of the year was the typical strict teacher that one would find in the movies. She had long, dark hair, straightened to perfection, piercing black eyes, and her mouth was puckered up in a tight line as if she had just swallowed a bottle of lemon juice. Without even looking up from her desk, she ordered me and my friend to take a seat so she could begin the lesson.
The teacher claimed that because it was the first day of lessons, she would distribute a test to us that would identify how advanced our arithmetic abilities were. Not even two minutes had gone by, and I was already extremely perplexed. Each page was filled with complex word problems accompanied by an array of convoluted math equations. In school, we were still learning rudimentary math concepts, such as addition and subtraction. How was I expected to understand how to successfully complete more complicated forms of math?
After an hour, the teacher told us to put our pencils on the table and give her our tests. It seemed as if she had only taken a minute to grade our tests. Once she was finished, she walked towards my friend with his exam, a hint of a smile on her normally stoic face.
“Good job,” she said, “Very impressive for a child of your age.”
When she turned to me, all trace of happiness and pride was erased from her face. She slammed the thick packet on the desk in front of me, a bright red 49% scrawled on the front. With nothing to say to me, she turned away from me in disgust and walked to her desk to pick up our homework packets for today’s lesson.
The rest of the class went by in a blur. My mind was completely overwhelmed by the events that had just transpired. What was the meaning of the teacher’s contempt towards me?
When the class finally ended, my parents walked in to ask the teacher about my progress. Her words would sear into my brain and scar me for the rest of my life. She bluntly said, “Your child is completely unteachable. I’d go as far as to say that she will never be as intelligent as her friend over there.”
What kind of adult would have the audacity of saying that about a child? She stole everything from me: my innocence, my pride, and most importantly, my self-confidence. My self-esteem deteriorated slowly during the years after as I was bombarded by insults about my intelligence. It took a very long time for me to regain what was left of my confidence.
Fast forward, I have grown older, but I have not improved at all in terms of my math abilities. In fact, I was the worst student in my math class. When I came home after another day with an endless cycle of mundane classes, my parents were already waiting for me. With a smile, they told me that they decided that the best move for me to succeed academically was to nurture my skills in other subjects. They said that tonight, a tutor would come to assess my abilities in reading and writing.
Being the obedient daughter that I was, I agreed without even knowing about the impact that this class would have on me. Besides, what harm could it possibly do? It would just be another teacher denying my worth and consistently claiming that I would never amount to anything in life.
I prepared a few books on basic grammar and writing skills that the teacher could use in the hour that she had with me. When I heard the doorbell ring, I pulled myself together with a sigh and told myself that it would only be an hour out of the entire week where I would be ridiculed and belittled.
I ran to the front door to see my parents already welcoming in the tutor. She was a voluptuous woman, with large, soft eyes. A thin, red-lipped smile graced her blushing face. Around her was a thick winter coat to protect herself from the stinging cold winter weather. On top of her head was an exotic-looking leopard print hat that sat snugly on top of her blond curls.
I was a little surprised by her appearance, which seemed to radiate an aura of kindness. She eventually saw me and cheerfully greeted me, vigorously shaking my hand. Stunned by her enthusiasm, I smiled back at her and led her to the dining room where we would conduct our first tutoring session.
Presenting her with my textbooks, I explained to her that they contained many concepts that were included in the current school curriculum. Instead of skimming through them, she shook her head and chuckled at me if I was just a confused little puppy. Already feeling a sense of misery, I sat down and prepared for her to retrieve a test for me, just like that math tutor.
Instead, she pulled out a packet of crossword puzzles complete with cartoon drawings of anthropomorphic animals in colorful and unique outfits. Each crossword puzzle contained different literary and grammatical concepts. She told me to read the clues provided at the bottom and fill in the puzzle where it was necessary.
I did as she was told, as I would in any class, but this time, I was grinning from ear to ear. Her teaching style was totally different from what I had expected, but it was a brilliant way to engrain knowledge into my head. Maybe I just needed a gentle hand in guiding me towards academic success, and I had finally found it in my new tutor.
With the assistance of my tutor, I was able to hone my abilities in English. I rapidly garnered more and more information about grammar rules, writing skills, and classic literature. I was able to surpass many of my fellow classmates in English class to the point where I had managed to impress some of the strictest and toughest teachers in my school. I would eventually go on to push the limits of my abilities by participating in different writing competitions. The first time I had won a writing competition, adrenaline rushed through my veins, exciting every part of me. I had truly found my calling and most importantly, I had been able to regain my confidence and put together the pieces that had been shattered by the individuals who doubted my intellect.
My tutor would eventually move away, which meant that she would not be able to teach me anymore. However, I would always cherish and value the precious lessons and philosophies that she bestowed upon me before leaving. She was a beacon in my life that directed me towards the path of light away from the darkness that I found myself trapped inside. She told me to distance myself from those who found joy and satisfaction out of hurting me emotionally and making me feel as if I was nothing. She told me that I had a gift that made me stand out from the rest of my peers. Those words melted away the ice surrounding my heart and gave me a sense of warmth and happiness.
Thanks to my tutor, I developed a newfound perspective on life. No longer was I the terrified, introverted girl that was always disparaged and disdained. No longer was I too afraid to communicate with other people for fear of them diminishing whatever I had left of my confidence. I was a different person. I had broken down the walls and was finally opening up to other people. I have learned that it is fine to have weaknesses. It is fine to not be outstanding in certain subjects. What is not fine is completely closing myself off from others and refusing to expand upon my knowledge of the world due to paranoia that I would be brutally mocked. With my proficiency in English, I was able to forget about my worries and concerns in regards to my education. I was able to finally discover that I do have a talent that can allow me to keep up in my academically competitive society. I was finally able to be who I was always meant to be.
Published December 11, 2021
Written by Mackenzie Chen ~ Graphics created by Hana Eisa
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