Adopting America – 3rd Person POV

“Hello, class.” The girl wore a pink cap that hid her face from view. She spoke loudly, and her voice was coarse. “My name is Katherine, but you can call me Kate. I’m from New Jersey, and ahm, I don’t really know what my major is yet?”

She sounded very American.

It was the first day of classes at Elon University, and the freshman students sat facing the old-school blackboard of the small Composition I classroom. There were not too many of them, 15 at the most, and, after a lengthy opening speech by the Professor, the students were now introducing themselves to the rest of the class. So far, there were three Kates, two Joeys, and two Madisons, all of them from New Jersey.

Julia sat in the middle row, nervously playing with the thin gold ring on her pinkie. She was not much of a public speaker, and it was clear by now that she was the only non-American in the room. She wore a colorful shirt that was perhaps the most vibrant outfit in the room and her long dark-blond hair was tied up in a bun.

“Hey, I’m Peter,” The guy in front of Julia spoke. “I’m from Florida, came here to run away from the heat and I’m majoring in Political Sciences.” You could tell he was from Florida by his tan. Everyone else looked anemic next to him.

The professor, a funny-looking guy with a long silver hair, nodded at Peter, and then looked at Julia: it was her turn. She clenched her fists anxiously and took a quick glance around. Her heart was going crazy inside her chest. Most people were not even paying attention, so she breathed in and said it all at once:

“Hi, my name is Julia, and I’m from Brazil.”

Immediately, every single head in the room turned to face her. Some people let out “wows,” then the room fell silent for a few seconds.

“That’s incredible!” The professor cut the quiet before it got too awkward. He looked amused by everyone’s reactions. Then, stared back at Julia “What the hell are you doing here? So far from home!”

“I…” She stuttered. How do you tell your life story in 30 seconds? “I went to an international high school in Brazil that encouraged me to apply for colleges in the US where I could get a better education. So, I’m here for my Journalism degree.”

Julia could see why he was so interested. She was probably the only Brazilian in that entire University and had been expecting a culture shock. She did not, however, think that she would be seen as an outcast.

The students were now chatting quietly with each other. A few of them turned to Julia and asked what language she spoke and what Brazil was like. At the end of the class, the girl with the pink hat spun on her heels to give Julia a long look.

“I’m surprised your English is so good!” She said, but not with a smile, and strode off.

Julia was born and raised in Brazil, a very vibrant country, rich with warm-hearted people who say hi with a hug and three kisses, take their time for everything and who measure effort over results. They’re generally humble people, overly generous, fearless optimists and collectivists: family and friends come first. And although Brazil is incredibly rich in diversity, Julia had never been completely immersed in a different culture before.

During those first few months in college, she wrestled with the fact that nothing around her was familiar – people followed different principles, the weather had different habits, the food was much greasier. She struggled to keep pace with the English, didn’t get most of the jokes, and couldn’t make friends. The girls in her class were quick to form groups, and even though she tried, Julia never felt like she connected with their conversations and concerns. The girls talked about things Julia had never experienced, like how the homecoming parties were nothing like the frat parties, and had shared interests that stemmed from the way they were brought up: baseball, country music, Macy’s.

They, in turn, thought of Julia as something exotic. Some loved to ask her the boldest questions about the world she came from whereas others smirked at her like she had something stuck to her forehead. Soon enough, she was known across campus as “the Brazilian,” which she found extremely demeaning.

The huge expectations she had about coming to the US were soon crushed. As the first weeks went by and reality sank in, she realized that the American dream was not the fantastical experience she had been imagining. And as that became evident, a cavernous hole started gaping inside her stomach. She suddenly felt lonelier than she had ever been: she was trapped in a strange world, with no real friends or family around. It was a discouraging feeling, one she had never dealt with before.

 

Julia was sitting in the cafeteria one afternoon, thinking about home and how she missed grandma’s food when a short girl approached her. She was hugging a pile of books and her long, brown hair cascaded to her waist.

“Hi, are you Julia?” The girl smiled. “My name is Suad, I saw you on the Facebook group for the school’s international students. Can I sit?”

“Oh, yeah, yeah, of course.”

She giggled and threw herself and books at the green seat in front of Julia. “I saw you from the door, and I really wanted to meet you because I’m also international and I think we gotta stick together, you know? I’m from Kuwait.”

Suad then dove into a long description of her life, and as she spilled out amazing stories, Julia felt a growing spark of hope inside her stomach. She had very few shared experiences with Suad, but at that moment, Julia realized they also had much in common.

The two girls became best friends very quickly, and, in a way, their bond helped Julia understand that she was not to blame for her struggle in adapting; culture was.

“We can’t judge the girls here for not understanding that the entire world doesn’t think like them. We gotta learn how they think, and then we can show them how we think.” Suad argued.

And, as Julia finally began to grasp, the girl was right: their backgrounds defined who they were but did not limit them to discover new ways of thinking.

Gradually, Julia stopped trying to desperately find elements of her culture everywhere. She let go of her fear of being different and attempted to understand the girls in her class. Before they knew it, she and Suad were frequenting frat parties and taking the bus to a nearby Starbucks or Victoria’s Secret. Each time more they welcomed the new values and tastes that were so prevalent around them.

 

The thing about culture is that, too often, it’s taken for granted. Most people don’t acknowledge their own culture until they are faced with something completely different from what they had always known. Generally, one only begins to acknowledge it when the people around can’t understand them. But when they do, it’s a game changer. Julia’s first year abroad taught her to appreciate the differences, yes, but it also opened her eyes to how valuable it is to be able to adopt those differences, at the right times. And doing so has provided her with opportunities that can only lead to growth.

Julia Garicochea
jmbgarico@gmail.com