One of the scenarios that students chose to make their video projects about last week was: "Young immigrants adjusting to life in the U.S." This theme came from the short story we read in the fall, "Fish Cheeks" by Amy Tan.
The groups that chose this theme talked about many things. One group talked about a woman looking for a mosque, who got on a bus and couldn't figure out how to get the bus to stop at the right stop (she didn't know to pull the cord attached to the wall) so she watched the mosque sail past, helpless.
Another group wrote about a man who was beeped out of the way when he tried to cross the street at the wrong juncture where there wasn't a little light saying when to go, and how long you have. Another group had their character receive a letter after three months stating that government aid was ending, and so food stamps, health insurance, rental assistance were all expiring.
I found these stories absolutely wonderful because they were like true short stories - about the small things that happen, which, when communicated thoughtfully, help others understand our experience better. By "our" I mean human, not immigrant, because I'm not an immigrant. But my students' stories help me better understand what the immigrant experience is like.
A masterfully told story of immigrants adjusting to life in the US is How the Garcia Girls Lost Their Accents, a novel by Julia Alvarez which consists of 15 stories about a family of four girls and their parents. They began life as illustrious residents of the Dominican Republic, but her father was not in favor with the Trujillo regime, and so they came to the US.
The stories focus, early on, on the lives of the girls once they reach the US. As the book goes on, the stories backtrack to their childhoods in the Dominican Republic. The scenes and details from the island remind me of other caribbean lit - Breath, Eyes, Memory by Edwidge Danticat, and Wide Sargasso Sea by Jean Rhys. It occurred to me today that the book recreates the process of getting to know someone as an adult. You learn about their present first, and come to know their adult selves. Then, gradually, you become privvy to their upbringing, how it shaped them, and how it lives in their memory.
Indeed, no immigrants get to be known in their adopted countries any other way. With some of my American friends, I've known them since they were tiny. I don't have, can't have, that privilege with anyone who immigrated as an adult or semi-adult. I am obliged to get to know their adult self first, and, if I make it far enough into the book of their lives, their pasts and childhoods will be revealed.
The groups that chose this theme talked about many things. One group talked about a woman looking for a mosque, who got on a bus and couldn't figure out how to get the bus to stop at the right stop (she didn't know to pull the cord attached to the wall) so she watched the mosque sail past, helpless.
Another group wrote about a man who was beeped out of the way when he tried to cross the street at the wrong juncture where there wasn't a little light saying when to go, and how long you have. Another group had their character receive a letter after three months stating that government aid was ending, and so food stamps, health insurance, rental assistance were all expiring.
I found these stories absolutely wonderful because they were like true short stories - about the small things that happen, which, when communicated thoughtfully, help others understand our experience better. By "our" I mean human, not immigrant, because I'm not an immigrant. But my students' stories help me better understand what the immigrant experience is like.
A masterfully told story of immigrants adjusting to life in the US is How the Garcia Girls Lost Their Accents, a novel by Julia Alvarez which consists of 15 stories about a family of four girls and their parents. They began life as illustrious residents of the Dominican Republic, but her father was not in favor with the Trujillo regime, and so they came to the US.The stories focus, early on, on the lives of the girls once they reach the US. As the book goes on, the stories backtrack to their childhoods in the Dominican Republic. The scenes and details from the island remind me of other caribbean lit - Breath, Eyes, Memory by Edwidge Danticat, and Wide Sargasso Sea by Jean Rhys. It occurred to me today that the book recreates the process of getting to know someone as an adult. You learn about their present first, and come to know their adult selves. Then, gradually, you become privvy to their upbringing, how it shaped them, and how it lives in their memory.
Indeed, no immigrants get to be known in their adopted countries any other way. With some of my American friends, I've known them since they were tiny. I don't have, can't have, that privilege with anyone who immigrated as an adult or semi-adult. I am obliged to get to know their adult self first, and, if I make it far enough into the book of their lives, their pasts and childhoods will be revealed.
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