Jonathan's Story: "...she smiles and waves, and I think to myself, 'They grow up so fast.'"

Jonathan Moy serves as a TechMission Corps Member at the Pui Tak Center in Chicago, Illinois

Early on in my Americorps year at the Pui Tak Center, I was called in for a short conference with my supervisors.  They expressed concern that I was not connecting as well as they had hoped with the students in our after-school program.  They were correct: the students were all Chinese immigrants who spoke very little English and a completely different dialect than I did.  In addition, most of them were very shy, and seemed generally disinterested in the topics which I enjoyed.  I was at a loss for what to do with them, and had resigned myself to quietly taking care of the students behind the scenes.  Even so, I found my supervisor’s criticism difficult to swallow.  Had my people skills been found wanting in light of language and cultural barriers?  I was discouraged and confused.

Shortly after, the spring semester began, and a few new students joined the after-school program.  I personally received a new student to drive home twice a week.  Her name was June, and she was 14 years old.  As we began the 40 minute drive back to her house for the first time, I glanced back at her in my rearview mirror.  “Should I even bother?” I wondered to myself as she stared out the back window.

“Hey.”

I figured that even if she decided not to talk back, I could always go back to being the silent driver.  But she looked a little surprised and responded to me.  She spoke hesitatingly, falling silent as she would look for words she was unfamiliar with, but this was the first time any of my students had attempted to speak English with me. I found that she had lived in the US for about 6 months, and that she didn’t like it very much.  She also told me that she wasn’t very proud of her English.  As I dropped her off, I told her that she could practice it with me.

The second time I drove her home, I mentioned that she seemed to be making friends with the other after-school students.  She looked at me, and said “Just because I talk to them doesn’t make them my friends.”  The maturity of this statement surprised me, and in that moment, I knew that there was much more to June than met the eye.  Afterwards, I always looked forward to my drives with her.

June was a girl who carefully guarded herself.  She never trusted herself to the other girls around her, and tended to offer information about herself only when asked.  She did not like many things, but often was considered immature by others because of her selectivity.  June found school frustrating and boring, mainly because she was capable of doing the work, but couldn’t understand the teacher and some of the assignments.  Even her family life was often scattered, with an older brother who didn’t have time for her and parents who worked all the time.  I found June to be a complex girl with no outlet for her frustrations, and I did my best to show her that I cared about her in the limited time we had together.

Near the end of spring, our relationship still mainly touched on the superficial topics of school and random interests, but I was much more impressed with the fact that June and I had an actual relationship that had been so absent in my interactions with the rest of the students.  Often conversations about small things would give me small hints about June’s life, but most of her remained a mystery – a status that I believe was partially due to June’s own still-developing perception of herself.  But even with these clues, I was certain that our relationship was generally one-sided.  It was not until I stumbled upon a chance encounter between June and my supervisor that I realized June trusted me.

Early that day, June had attended an after-school field trip with some of our volunteers.  During the trip, a volunteer had coaxed her out of her comfort zone to try some new food, which she sampled and did not enjoy.  My supervisors had hastily tried to dismiss her behavior as juvenile in order to avoid offending the volunteer – but in the process, they had hurt June’s feelings.  I had seen the entire thing happen, but I did not want to re-open old wounds by mentioning it again.  Instead, I resumed our usual interactions, until June interrupted me for the first time ever:

“Do you think I act like a child?”

She proceeded to tell me that she had been thinking about my supervisors’ comments and wondering if they were right about her.  The confusion and sadness in her eyes and voice stirred something inside me, and I reassured her that people will always try to judge you, but that it was who she knew herself to be that was most important.  I told her that in my interactions with her, I found her to be more mature than most students her age, and if anything, I was impressed by her self-assurance.  She smiled, and said quietly, “I knew it.”  I drove home that night, amazed that she had shared something so close to her heart with me.

With the summertime here, I no longer have the privilege to take June back home, but I often see her around the Center.  She has been opening up to others and is even making some friends in the summer programs.  Her English has improved, and she is beginning to try some newer activities.  Whenever she passes by with her friends, she smiles and waves – and I think to myself, “They grow up so fast.”