How It Feels to Lose Your Native Language
Internalized racism made me forget, but I’m learning to reclaim my superpower
A few years ago, my parents and I were wandering around in a shopping mall on a trip to Hong Kong when my mother and I decided to visit the washroom.
As I washed my hands after doing my business, an older Chinese woman thrust a newspaper in my face. “Miss! Sorry to bother you, but I grew up in the ’40s during the war and never learned how to read. Would you mind reading this for me?” I looked at the paper; I remember from the pictures it had something to do with celebrity gossip.
But that was all I could read — the pictures. So I said politely, in Cantonese, “Um, sorry… I don’t read Chinese.” The woman looked extremely confused. Thankfully, my mom came out of the stalls at that moment so I waved her over.
“Oh, I can help,” my mom said when she was updated on the situation. “She” — referring to me — “doesn’t read Chinese.”
There was once a time when I was proud of knowing another language. But inside, I was also ashamed.
I grew up in a majority-White elementary school in a relatively affluent, White area. This was before cultural diversity became cool, so stuff like bringing funny-smelling food for lunch and speaking to…
