What exactly is reading?
I feel like reading can be defined in so many ways, and yet it can’t be defined at all. I mean, if you Google “definition of reading,” Oxford Languages literally can’t define it without using the word in the definition.
But if we’re talking about processing words on paper, my first reading memory would probably be from kindergarten.
I wasn’t actually reading English; I was in my first Chinese class, which took place every Saturday at Kennedy Junior High School. My teacher was Teacher Zhang, who had stick-straight black hair that was cut into a bob with straight bangs. I sat in the hard metal chairs that were connected to the desk; my pink rolling backpack was on my right, while everyone else’s bags were stored underneath their chairs or sprawled around the aisles. I remember being handed three books: a blue one with lessons, a green one with homework A, and an orange one with homework B.
We flipped open to the first lesson. There, we learned the very basics of Chinese words. I don’t quite remember exactly what we learned, but I assume it was something along the lines of “here’s how you write the number one!” and “this word means ‘sky’ and you write it this way!” Although my parents had already taught me some basic words, I was still shocked by the fact that these were words that I could read.
I assume there was English involved while I was learning these basic Chinese words, but I don’t remember any of that. Instead, I remember feeling excited to learn something new. I heard the language at home, but wanted to read it. I remember treating it as a fun activity rather than a chore. Understanding Chinese brought me closer to my family and allowed me to understand my heritage better at a young age, and although I didn’t necessarily process all of that information at the time, I definitely remember thinking that I was meant to understand those new words.
What I find particularly interesting about this specific memory is that I don’t think I ever connected Chinese to English. I don’t even think I realized that they were both languages; instead, it was like learning math and history at the same time. I think it was because of this that I didn’t process reading Chinese as “reading,” and rather it was just a new fun activity that I spent every Saturday afternoon doing.
When I think about it now, I’m comforted by the idea that I once enjoyed reading Chinese this much. I enjoy thinking about how it was once an escape, disconnected from the rest of my world. After this initial class, I continued with Chinese classes until freshman year, where I would dedicate two hours a week to reading, completely separated from my daily life in America. Even after I realized that reading Chinese was kind of tedious and mentally draining—and that it was, in fact, a language—I continued with the lessons because it was what connected me to my relatives and my culture, and because it has helped me build hundreds of additional reading memories.
Hi Kate! I really liked your anecdote about learning Mandarin at Chinese school when you were younger. You had vivid details about the class that brought back memories of Chinese school for me as well. I loved how you talked about learning Chinese as a means to connect with your culture, family, and heritage – sometimes, it’s easy to get caught up in tedious classes and homework and forget the bigger picture of why we learn Chinese. I thought it was really interesting how, when you were younger, you didn’t connect Chinese and English as both being languages; rather, you saw Chinese as a separate “subject”, maybe something closer to an art of some sort. I found that quite intriguing, since I’ve always seen Chinese and English as intricately intertwined, but I can sort of see where you’re coming from. Overall, great job! I had a fun time reading 🙂
Thank you Kate for such an insightful look into your childhood! I have personally never experienced the duality of growing up bilingual, but I can most certainly empathize with the desire to connect with one’s family in a meaningful way. For me, that was through history and science, two subjects which my family values intensely. And while your connection with your family (as described in your story) varies in the subject matter, I can tell that the sentiment is the same. Additionally, I really appreciate how engaging your piece is, and the way you told your story. That is to say, I can see that every word was written with intent, which I find immeasurable more valuable than simply writing for the sake of writing. Overall, this was amazing and super fun to read and relate to!
Hey Kate,
I think that I found that we actually used the same Chinese textbooks! Similarly, I also had those same 3 books – A, B and the regular book.
I think that I really could connect with the fact that Chinese could make us close with our family and friends. In my experience, it makes us seem a bit more connected, as we hold more in common than we had just thought.
From my experience, Chinese has always been a pretty intense endeavor. My parents would give me quite a bit of homework in that, and it’s actually been more of a chore than anything.
However, I do think that reading Chinese actually does kind of influence how we read English. For example, many of the chengyugushi and other short stories that I read from a kid still linger in my mind. While reading other books, these themes would continue to persist in my mind and I’d look for other things out there – like the themes of selfishness or faking to make it from stories like lanyuchongshu would come out in books like The Scarlet Letter.
-Kai