The Twelve Days of 40: Part 3/13
Previously on “The Twelve Days of 40”
You have likely heard the song “The 12 Days of Christmas” at some point in your life. “On the first day of Christmas, my true love gave to me…” Blah, blah, blah. Et cetera. So on and so forth.
To celebrate my 40th birthday scheduled to take place less than a year from now, I would like to look back at the 12 most unforgettable days of my life (plus one honorable mention). They have all made me the person I am today: an imperfect, yet perfectly happy husband, father, son, brother, and human being.
It would only make sense to start at the bottom of the list and work our way to the top. So, without further ado…
No. 11: Being named the “most improved” student in my class at my Cantonese language school.
The day was a lesson in perseverance…
I am of Chinese descent. I spoke mostly English as a child, but also knew a few important phrases in Cantonese (which is a Chinese dialect). Cantonese is my mother’s first language and my father’s second one after English.
My mother wanted me to become bilingual, so she registered me in a Cantonese language school when I was 11 years old. Classes were held at an elementary school across the street from my house. They took place 3:30–5 p.m. Monday through Thursday.
I was studious and a quick learner, so my mother signed me up for the intermediate class instead of the beginner one. (She thankfully did not place me in the advanced class.) Nonetheless, I struggled and felt out of place initially as Cantonese was the first language for most of my classmates. Mrs. Choy was luckily a friendly teacher who gave me extra guidance, so I did not fall behind on my assignments.
The semester concluded with an assembly with our families and friends in attendance. My classmates and I kicked off the event with a performance of a traditional Chinese dance we had been taught. We then had an award ceremony where two students from each class were to be honored — one for “top student” and the other for “most improved.”
It was Mrs. Choy’s turn to distribute awards for her class. She approached the podium and described the two students she had chosen to honor.
“Next, the ‘most improved’ award goes to a student who knew almost no Cantonese the first day of class. But he studied hard and quickly made great strides. Today, he is able to not only write Chinese characters, but also have a basic conversation in Cantonese…”
And, of course, I had no interest in anything she had said.
I was instead fidgeting impatiently and could not wait for the assembly to end. After all, I was 11 and had already developed the attitude of an angsty adolescent. “This is so lame,” I thought to myself as I rolled my eyes. “Can’t wait to go home and take a nap.”
Suddenly, I heard Mrs. Choy say my name.
“…And this award goes to Michael.”
“Wait … what?” I mumbled to myself.
My mother gasped in astonishment. The audience applauded. My classmates turned to look at me.
To make a long story short, Mrs. Choy had named me the “most improved” student in her class. I still recall being in shock as I nervously walked to the podium to receive my award. I had also earned a scholarship that covered the tuition for the following semester.
I was too immature to understand at the time, but the perseverance I had used to learn Cantonese would come in handy later in life. It has helped me to earn two college degrees. Carve out a blossoming writing career. Definitely grow as a husband and father.
I am still not fluent in Cantonese, even as I approach 40. The truth is it might never happen. But, being recognized as the “most improved” student in my class is an accomplishment no one can take from me — and I am grateful for that.