The Chinese Dorm

When I went off to college, I thought it would be fascinating to learn about another culture. I had spent the first eighteen years of my life in a town of a thousand people, where the only person of color had been my father’s best friend.

I had read about other cultures and other ways of life in my high school education. I was eager to experience this first hand. So I chose the option on my university application to spend my first semester in a foreign language dorm. I think I envisioned myself as being some kind of missionary, learning a new language by total emersion. How fascinating and Jane Goodall-like!

And so it went. My mother dropped me off at University of Illinois. I was so excited to start this new chapter in my life. The campus had fifty thousand students. The side walks were swarming with humans. My first day on campus was exhausting. I was attempting to say “Hi” and wave to every single person that passed me on the sidewalk. Much to my shock, no one said hi back to me. I was in tears by my first night on campus. Where “I” came from, it was customary to acknowledge and smile and maybe even exchange a few niceties as you passed another on the sidewalk. What had I gotten myself into? Had I landed on the moon with no oxygen tank? I was a fish out of water for sure, trying to find my gills.

I was a giant in a world of tiny people. Hundreds of petite Asian Americans filled my dormitory. I was the only 5″8″ white girl. Correction, I was the only 5’8″ girl! I felt like I was the suddenly the…Canopy of the rain forest, the Ozone layer of the earth’s surface or perhaps even that Big White Marshmallow man in a sailor’s suit floating down the streets of New York as they all scrambled for shelter. Everyone glared at me, silently asking ” Why is she here?”. My roommate was from China. The dining hall was filled with Chinese girls. The halls were packed with Chinese girls. I was literally the only white girl in the entire dorm! All because I checked that little box on my college application. “You’re not in Kansas anymore, my pretty” ( insert evil witch laughter and Toto shivering in my arms).

It was total emersion alright. The mornings were filled with silence for me as we all shuffled to the communal bathroom with our little plastic hygiene buckets in hand. The halls echoed as their little flip flops/my big flip flops clanked down the hall. The air was filled with Chinese buzz. I didn’t understand one word, nor did I try. Breakfast was eggs and bacon with a side of Mandarin. And so it went, for six months, I spoke to no one. I felt like a POW, an outcast, a mute. For the first time in my entire life, I knew no one and no one knew me.

I spent my days bowing and smiling and my nights weeping.I soon realized I had made a big mistake but it was too late. I had to endure this cultural emersion experiment for six months. And so I did. And you know what? It pushed me into finding a part of me that I never knew existed…Me. I had to have internal dialogue with myself. Who am I? What do I want? Where am I going? How will I forge my way? Who will guide me?

I know that most people make life long bonds with their freshman roommate. I know many girls go off to college and dive head first into the pool of partying and their new found freedom. I felt as if I had gone off to college and landed on a lunar surface where no white girl had gone before. One small step for man, one giant leap for mankind. I was a minority for the first time in my life. It was a good learning experience for me to feel first hand what it felt to be an outsider. I went from ” most popular” to ” most invisible”.

But as I look back on my life and the evolution of me, I realize that what has made me stronger, more resilient and more determined were my mistakes. The path to my success was defined by my failures. I learned about what I wanted in life, by learning about what I did not want in my life. Once I realized I could endure six months of being silent and knowing no one but myself, I felt stronger. I felt like a survivor.

So, as my journey continued and I left the Chinese dorm into the land of English speaking people, I continued to make big mistakes. No actually, I continued to make huge mistakes along the way. But with each misstep came clarity. Clarity for what I did not want for my life. Clarity for what I envisioned moving forward. I was always told, you learn from your mistakes. But I always thought to myself, what do you learn? And now I know. You learn not to do it again. You learn that you are human, fallible and delicate. You also learn that you are human, driven and powerful. You learn that your choices have real consequences.

You learn that some things choose you. I didn’t choose to get MS. But I chose to accept it and learn about it and adjust to it. I chose to roll with it’s punches and find the silver lining in it all. My life has changed since I became Lisa with MS. Once again, I had gone from ” Most popular, MD” to ” Invisible Me”, with an invisible disease. I guess I suddenly felt like I was once again, plopped down in a foreign land. But this time, I chose to learn the language. I chose to give up my profession to save myself . I chose to respect each day as a gift. I chose to laugh at myself. I chose to believe that ” ask and you shall receive” really works! I chose to learn that it’s true… you reap what you sow, “sow”…you better start watering that garden!

I learned a new language after all. And much to my surprise, it wasn’t Mandarin. It was the language of gratitude.

Xie Xie ( Thank you in Mandarin)