Reflection
The Beginning
When I started, I found Chinese very difficult. Getting a level 3 IB grade (out of 7) in my first midterm. Before starting Chinese language, I had attempted many other languages such as French, Spanish, and Italian, and I failed in all, also, struggling with my own dialect, Yoruba. I found new languages especially difficult to attain.
Those first months, studying Chinese was really hard. I was deeply distraught and disappointed to have flown all across the world only to find myself struggling yet again. What was more perplexing was that other students already appeared to be ahead of me in only the first half of the semester. One of them was my best friend at the school, a fellow Nigerian called Uade. He was lauded by local students, the teachers, and recognized amongst our peers as the best in the class. While in class, I, as his compatriot, felt so distant from him. I think my teacher and peers also could not understand how we could be such polar opposites. We were both tall, similar physique, same nationality, yet he exuberated confidence in class, while I was visibly shrinking. I remember my silent prayers in class to not be called on.
I recall one of our conversations. I told him I intended to sustain the subpar 3 IB score I had been getting in tests, and would go ahead to focus on other subjects. But as an exceptional friend, he let me in on his secret to success. He said to me, it might seem as though he does not have to put much effort, but the truth was he studied hard. It was just that very few people saw. At the time I didn’t think too much of it, but his words were placed at the back of my mind.
A turning point came during the week leading up to our mock exam for the semester. I was at McDonald’s and I was panicking about failing the exam. Some students and I were demanding on our class group chat to have the exam date pushed back. We felt the fear of not being ready. We might have achieved our goal to have the exam postponed had Uade not shut us down in two paragraphs in texts. “We have practiced all semester,” he said, “there is no reason to postpone it,” and crucial to me, he told me to “stop complaining.” I was angry at his tone, how he commandeered our heist of the exam date, and I despised him for calling me out so publicly. I quickly turned fury into determination. I told my friend next to me, I need to pass this exam to make him shut up. She could see my hurt and my intention, and she promised to help me. Now, the rest of this memory is hazy, but in the following months, I became the number two student in class. Still behind my best friend, Uade (he was just that good). But finally I had a voice in class, and what’s more, is that voice came in my adopted language.
The conversation with him earlier, and the work I would eventually do to grow my craft, reminded me of something I had nearly forgotten; nothing is given naturally, especially learning a foreign language like Chinese. With a new attitude, I sought out unique ways to help retain characters in my memory. I began to frame pictures in my mind of each character I studied. As a visual learner, I wanted to see an image in the character that portrayed its meaning. For instance, with 茶，I could see the closed eyes, crinkled cheeks, and nose of an old man who must like tea. I saw in 商，the industrious women in Nigeria who can balance a load of items on their heads as they sell them in congested traffic. With 护士，I saw a nurse giving an injection and the white cross that is on many first aid kits. This is how my mind worked in the years to come. I read our dictionaries frequently and wanted to practice the new words to form complex sentences. The first sentence I made myself was, 我们应该打开我们的心扉去爱。My teacher at the time could not be more proud. I had communicated what was in my heart.
No one saw this coming, and neither did I. Never could I have thought, that upon arriving at St. Olaf, my journey included becoming a Chinese tutor as a Sophomore. I taught new students the image technique so that they may infuse what they already know with this new language.
Today
I remember the first time 施老师 saw me. “Dele, hi! It’s nice to see you.” I was greeted so warmly, but I had to let her know that I was not Ayodele. Like many, she was very confused at how closely we resembled each other and immediately asked whether he was my brother. I could already tell from how cheerfully she greeted me that this was a kind and most supportive 老师. I had no idea, 3 years on, I would feel that same way about every professor I have met in the department. 施老师，who I have always recognized as a mother, the one I started my journey in the major with and took my final class with. 毕老师，my frienemy :), who always makes fun of me, and I make sure tease back for her height！周老师，who took a huge chance on me and accepted me as a tutor for the department, I could not be more grateful for her faith. 章老师，who constantly encouraged me during the first year, and helped me grow in technique to write essays and make speeches. Finally 王老师, my advisor, who never fails to make me smile or feel supported, his words and jokes have the effects of brightening my low days. I am so proud to have learned from the best, and I marvel at the ease at which they allow their intelligence to be received.
For someone who grew up anxious and afraid of class, it says something about these professors I met, who make me feel confident that I have the knowledge to speak in class, and even teach others.
At Olaf, I have learned there is more to the discipline of Chinese studies than language. I am developing knowledge in literature, religion, philosophy, traditions, and complex geopolitical relationships exposed in film, poetry, and novellas. It will be a fallacy to claim I am adept in each facet, but I am glad that the courses I have taken have enabled my intellectual growth, preparing me well to become a connected member of our global community.
This year, there is finally a broadcast of the overt and covert racism that is experienced by AAPIs, but the circumstances that have brought it to the forefront of our minds are incredibly disheartening. In the Chinese Diaspora and Asian Seminar courses, I have been able to assimilate information pertaining to the legacy of structural racism on Asians by the US and their immigration policies. I use information from these courses to critique racialized rhetorics such as “China virus”, the model minority myth, and the gross fetishization of Asian women in classical art and modern media. I am grateful that the disciplines I study, Sociology and Chinese, opportune me to learn how to be a better ally, in holding myself and those around me accountable to not perpetuate stereotypes that leave the communities of my friends vulnerable to hate and prejudice.
Post graduation, I am eager to continue growing in both language and knowledge of the region. I hope my role as a research analyst allows me to look ahead to a career proffering tangible solutions to these complex issues, for a less stratified society. I have also received the opportunity to pursue a Master’s degree in social analysis and research. I hope that I can contribute to my country, by foraging amongst China’s strategies in modernizing their transportation sector, that I may also identify which policy helps to improve the growing complications of urban stress in my hometown.
Tomorrow
But then again, who knows what tomorrow will bring? I can only take my days 一步一步来。
