Renee Chou: Finding roots, learning language at Chinese School

When I was growing up in the suburbs of Detroit, Mich., I attended two schools a week: public school Monday through Friday and Chinese Language School every Saturday for several hours. This was my life from kindergarten through my senior year in high school.

What is Chinese School? It’s an opportunity to learn how to read, write and speak the language through immersion and intense study. The school was started by Chinese and Taiwanese parents, who immigrated to the U.S. and wanted their American-born children to maintain their heritage by learning Mandarin.

They formed a nonprofit, rented out a community college building, developed a curriculum and recruited teachers and volunteers. The Chinese School I attended also offered extracurriculars where you could learn martial arts, Chinese folk dances and even calligraphy.

My parents made it clear that Chinese School was a mandatory Saturday routine. As a kid, it was something I had to do. As I grew older, there were times when I resented spending my Saturdays in school when I would’ve liked to do other things. I remember wanting and asking to quit, but that was never an option with my parents.

I’m grateful they held firm. Looking back I can now appreciate what Chinese School did for me. First, I’m proud that I can speak a language spoken by more than a billion people in the world! But it also helped shape my identity, allowing me to form friendships with other kids who looked like me, and who understood what it was like to grow up in a household that blended two cultures. Chinese School was a place where I felt I truly belonged. It reinforced a sense of pride in my heritage.

And now I want that for Elsa.

I’ve taught Elsa Chinese ever since she was a baby. She’s aware of the four “tones” that are central to pronouncing Chinese words correctly and has a natural ear for them. Her first Chinese words besides “Mom” and “Dad” were “I love you.” (We say “I love you” every night in English and Chinese at bedtime.)

She can count to 100 in Chinese and knows the Chinese words for different fruits, animals, and colors. We listen to Chinese CDs in the car and at home. But unlike the home in which I grew up, where my parents were speaking Chinese to each other and to my brother and me all the time-- Elsa’s home environment is almost all English.

Now that Elsa is five, I felt she would be ready for Chinese School. When I asked her if she wanted to attend Chinese School this year, she immediately said yes! (Her father, by the way, is completely supportive and has said if she didn’t want to go, we would make her go!) We are fortunate the Triangle is home to several Chinese Schools that offer language classes to children not just of Chinese descent, but any child who wants to learn Mandarin.

We went to her first Chinese School class last Saturday. As we walked into the building, she whispered to me, “I’m nervous, Mommy.” But the teacher was engaging. The class had about a dozen students. After two hours of language instruction, she said to me, “I like Chinese School! I can’t wait to go next week!” Then she asked if she could listen to the Chinese CD in the car on the way home so she could follow along with her new textbook. Her enthusiasm is exciting!

She doesn’t know it yet, but this is really a journey of self-discovery. I’ve told Elsa how special it is to be able to speak two languages, and how Chinese is an important part of who she is and what makes her special.

My younger self thought my parents were such hardliners, making me spend my Saturdays at school. I now know, by doing so, that was their language of love. I hope my daughter will grow up and know that my desire for her to learn Chinese is also my love language to her.

So far, it seems, she’s listening.