How to Tame a Language: Do we even need to take it seriously if we learn it through

people?

When I was 17, I moved to the U.S with my mom and dad. My older sister got married and had

to stay in Russia with her new family. I remember how tough it was for us to even think about

this idea, my mom literally sold everything we got from furniture to our house. Hopefully not our

souls (she just didn’t have enough time to find buyers). She’s a really strategic woman. When we

got to New York, my dad said “Now it’s time to build your better future”, and I thought at the

moment “Damn, what was stopping you to do the same back to Russia”. On the other hand, I

understood why he was so unhappy at home. Moscow is a dark city. People there are not playing

jokes and would’ve done anything to humiliate you and say “go back to your country, churka”.

Churka is a rude word which indicates you as “foreign carrion” and marks you as a black spot in

the hierarchy in such a rich area. Here, with a first step set on this land we felt such a warmth in

our hearts. People were greeting foreigners in the nicest, sweetest way, like they were closest

friends. We rent an apartment with the help of my uncle. He has been a citizen of this country for

almost 10 years and knew what to do. He said to me that I should go to school as soon as

possible because NYC has a rule which says that no child shall stay at home and not attend

school within a month. I’ve watched a lot of American shows where they had their “cool

companies”, separated tables with nerds, bullies, freaks and hot chicks and I was scared even to

think about how I walk through these crazy people and questioned myself “What if someone is

gonna bully me?”. This haunted me. When I first came to school (where I’ve remained eversince), I had to take a test to determine my language and math skills. I never liked algebra, nor I

wrote a mini-essay about myself entirely in Russian because I didn’t understand what they

wanted from me. As I sat and waited for my results, the school seemed very pleasant. The

chancellors were very nice and relatively kind. Three women, all around 25, excitedly rushing

from place to place, chatting with other students who needed help. Hearing the other

students speak, I realized I would definitely be able to make friends at this school, since the

main component was immigrants who knew only the basics of English. After all, this was an ISL

school. It was founded by a great woman, Emma Lazarus, an American poet and activist. “Give

me your tired, your poor,

Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free…” is a message that says America is ready to

accept those who are poor, the poor, tired, and persecuted. The very name of the school already

indicated that it was the perfect solution for immigrants ready to learn a new language with new

friends who share the same fate. In the first months of school, I didn’t really understand or figure

out what I was supposed to do. I didn’t even know what my grades were until we were given the

midterm report card. But I always had fun in class. Every day, coming to school, I entered the

classroom with enthusiasm, expecting to meet new people. In class, even though I didn’t fully

understand the material, the first adults I made friends with were the teachers, who opened the

world of socialization to me. My English teacher, Miss Clark, was always kind to me. I

remember her blonde haircut and bouncy curls that evoked something warm, like The sun. It

suited her perfectly, because her manner of speech is imprinted in my head to this day. Over

time, in the first level of IS, I made a lot of friends from different countries. Our conversations

weren’t very well structured, but they were filled with deep and innocent emotions. They would

begin something like this: “Hi, what’s your name? Where are you from? Wow, you’re fromRussia? Incredible! Let’s be friends!” I always really liked telling people that I was from Russia

and could speak Russian, because being Asian, this surprises many people. Towards the middle

of my studies, in the fourth level of IS, Miss Clark came up to me and asked if I would like to

start my own club based on my hobbies. I’ve always loved making things with my hands, and I

even once shared my creations with her, like clay jewelry or paper flower bouquets. And I

thought, why not? At that point, I knew practically the entire school and felt right at home. When

I opened my club, many of my friends came to support me. and even dared to join my handcraft

club. Meetings were held every Thursday after school, and every time I came up with something

interesting. Even when I couldn’t explain a task, the teachers helped me, and my international

friends understood and supported me. I understood that school for me was preparation for the

real ring, and I tried to absorb not just studies, but how to communicate with people, because I

was good at it. I remember how I began to communicate more and share my impressions with

others. I was inspired by conversations with teachers, whom I tried to emulate, because their

English seemed so correct and therefore sweet to the ear. I loved how we exchanged jokes and

real-life situations during school clubs. I organized many interesting events where our parents

also came, and together we made something with our hands! Outside of school, I still found it

difficult to maintain a dialogue on new topics, but I was happy to laugh or share grief with

someone. I know many might say that this is more like Broken English, but can’t we look at it

from the other side? People who share their emotions through language without fully

understanding it are trying; instead, they give a piece of their soul and put it into words to give it

more meaning, while in advanced dialogue, ordinary people don’t even hint at the slightest

understanding of their interlocutor. I think that’s the beauty of broken English.I also believe that when you’re in a new environment, as most immigrants do, they live their

lives, they live in the moment, savor every meal, explore new things, and share their experiences.

They’re willing to overcome obstacles, the most tolerable of which is the language barrier, which

is difficult to overcome, but can be overcome even without going to special institutions. They

don’t have time to spend days studying the language. As you get into your twenties, the

opportunities to learn a language become fewer and fewer, while the needs become greater. Work

fills most of your life because you have to pay for food, bills, housing, and transportation, all of

this doesn’t just fall out of the sky. I know all of this because my parents went through it and still

go through it. Even though I graduated from American school, I started it as a teenager with a

well-developed speech, but we all go through a period in our lives where we socialize and begin

to accept the language through interaction with native speakers.