I tried to avoid eye contact and squat in my chair, but it didn’t work. It was the beginning of my 4th grade school year and for the fourth consecutive year, my name was called to receive “additional English language instruction”. It did not matter if I could fully understand the Guinness Book of World Records I bought from the Scholastic Book Fair or if I read the Vancouver Sun sports section every morning. I would return to ESL. I was born in Canada and grew up speaking English with my parents. My Chinese-born mother immigrated to Canada as a high school student, and my father, also an immigrant from Hong Kong in the 1970s, taught cooking lessons in English. However, my grandparents and other elderly family members did not speak English fluently and spoke mostly Cantonese at home. This is why my parents set Cantonese as the most widely spoken language at home when I filled out my public school enrollment form. It is also the reason we believe I was placed in English language courses (ESL) despite the fact that I was born in Canada and spoke fluent English. The Alvin Ma Grade 3 report shows that he received ESL support while also engaging in enrichment activities. (Submitted by Alvin Ma) I have no negative memories of these ESL classes or the teachers themselves. But as a kid, going to these classes made me feel less like a full-fledged Canadian. I just wanted to be treated like a CBC (Canadian-born Chinese) classmate who did not need these ESL courses. Some of these students occasionally show off their English skills and make fun of those who were considered “fresh from the boat”. I do not remember making fun of people, but I do remember that I wanted to prove that I was better than others in English – if I thought that a better understanding of the language would make me a little more “Canadian”. Even if I was secretly finding catchy Cantonese pop songs from the ’90s, like 每天 愛 你 一些 一些 and Sugar in the Marmalade, I was still listening to Shania Twain. I watched every Hockey show in Canada. Twenty-two years ago The interpretation of Simu Liu at the Juno Awards, I was able to recite it effortlessly “I AM CANADIAN“riot in its entirety. I distanced myself from my Chinese heritage and deliberately failed the Chinese school assessments to prove that I was more Canadian than Chinese. My mother knew I would only speak English to her, and there was an unspoken understanding that she would only speak English to me when she came to my school to pick me up. Alvin Ma’s report from a Cantonese cultural heritage course shows his failed grades. (Submitted by Alvin Ma) When I asked my mother if she thought it was weird that they put me in ESL for so many years, she shrugged. Considering that my grandparents supervised me on weekdays, my parents thought that “additional English language teaching” would help my education in the long run. Then, one day and without any explanation, I entered the regular stream of 5th grade students. My student record just noted that my ESL status had been deleted. I was relieved, but I remained aware of the pronunciation of my words and tried to avoid a stutter that would characterize me as anything but a Canadian born in Canada. Years after I graduated, my elementary school faced claims that it was falsely inflated the number of English students in order to receive more state funding. Alvin Ma, third from the right, poses with his family to mark his graduation from the University of British Columbia. (Submitted by Alvin Ma) As an adult, I now know that neither fluency in Cantonese nor perceptual pronunciation make me any less Canadian. Years of academic research and presentations have made me a confident speaker on issues related to multiculturalism. But I had not really thought about the impact of these ESL courses until I met a 10 year old student through a tutorial job. As his mom left the room, he said these parting words: “. 需要 努力 ， 進步 你 的 (分” (you have to work hard to improve your English sign). He indignantly replied in English: “Stop bothering me in Chinese if you want me to improve!”. This student was the mirror of my younger self: a second-generation Canadian who was desperately trying to prove his English fluency by avoiding Chinese. Although I wanted to avoid conflict, I took my courage. I told him — and consequently to my younger self — that knowing another language is power. it is not a shame to hide. My student nodded in agreement, but if my journey is an indication, it may take many years for them to understand my message. I just hope the message finally sinks. Do you have a fascinating personal story that can bring understanding or help to others? We want to hear from you. Here is more information on how to submit to us.
