The Education Journey (Part 4) - She Finally Starts School

If you're still with me reading this blog, you have some idea of how it felt to finally get to the first day of school...it was a long haul!  (Thanks for still reading!)

The Week Before School Starts

Monday Genevieve and I survived the language assessment, obviously Genevieve worked harder than I did, but it was nerve-wracking for me too!  Later that same day Genevieve had a tutoring session.  At this session, they perfected the sentences that Genevieve would write on her postcards to give her classmates, and she started working on them.  Her sentence was, “My name is Lingling and I’m from Portland, Oregon, USA.”  It was all in traditional characters, which were still new and difficult for her and she had 30 postcards to write before Friday! 

Halfway through the hour with her tutor, Genevieve dissolved in tears and began to hyperventilate.  My happy-go-lucky child who takes everything in stride was in the throes of a meltdown in a way I have never seen before.

It took almost 15 minutes to calm her down, and then all her fears came pouring out between the sobs and hiccups.  Trying to write the postcards had made everything real.  She was scared to go to school, she was scared she wouldn’t be able to do the work, she was scared she would get lost, she was scared her teacher wouldn’t like her, she was scared she wouldn’t have any friends.  She was scared about everything.  And it broke my heart.  Because the truth is she had every right to be scared, she was embarking on a big scary endeavor.

The best I could do was acknowledge that it would be scary, but reminded her how smart and capable she is, and that we’ll get her as much help as she needs. (And I kept telling myself, there is always Plan B of the American school if we need it!)  So we got through the meltdown, one assurance at a time until she was able to look at the postcards again without crying.  We put them aside for another day.

Genevieve tackled those postcards again on Tuesday, and on Wednesday, and by Thursday she had them done.  Thursday was our “last day of summer” celebration day and she got to choose what to do the entire day.  Her choice?  Visiting the parks we had seen around town and then going shopping.  (Shopping?  Whose child is this?  Not mine!) 

Last day of summer

After dropping off both her sisters to school, we went in pursuit of her PE uniform, which was supposed to be at the bookstore on Shidong Road.  We walked down the road realizing our mistake immediately.  No shops in Taiwan open before 10am, most don’t open until 11am.  So we went to Starbucks, had hot chocolate (on a 90 degree day) and a scone and chatted for a while.  Then we walked to the park, where the sky opened up and we experienced typhoon-like rains and wind.  By the time we made it to the shopping mall we were soaked, but she had a grand time visiting all the different floors of the mall.  Then we ate lunch at her favorite restaurant, Din Tai Fung, where she ate an appetizer of spicy cucumber, an entire tray of xiao long bao (dumplings), and entire plate of Taiwanese lettuce (think cooked spinach) and half our order of green beans.  The girl can put away the Chinese food!

Our evening consisted of the same routine that I imagine happens world-wide the night before school starts. Genevieve selected and set out her clothes and her backpack and supplies.  She was tucked into bed with hugs and kisses, and she even produced a smile at the prospect of starting school the next day. 

Three hours later at 11pm she arrived in our room with big eyes and trembling voice, “Mama, I can’t sleep.  I’m scared about school tomorrow.”  She was tucked back into bed with more hugs and kisses and a little backrub, but the killer about nerves like this: there is nothing to alleviate the anxiety until the first day of school actually happens and you know what you’re dealing with!

First day of school

Her first day of school was on a Friday, and the public school system in Taipei has half day of school on Wednesdays and Fridays for all children below grade 4.  I felt like this was the best possible beginning, she should be able to survive four hours of school!  And then we would see what was what.

After dropping Olivia off at school, Joe, Genevieve, Amelia and I walked Genevieve to her school.  (Olivia gets dropped off at 7:30, Genevieve at 7:40, and Amelia at 8:30.)  As we approached her school and I asked G to pause for a picture, she could not quite summon a smile, just the ghost of a smile.  We walked through the entrance of the school, joining the stream of other children on their way in.  There were only about 20% of the students with parents accompanying them in, all the other kids were on their own.

We found her classroom, went inside and discovered her teacher.  Ding Laoshi was standing in the middle of a gaggle of children, laughing and giving various directions.  It was a bit chaotic, but he noticed Genevieve almost immediately.  He welcomed her with a big smile, showed her where to put her backpack and water bottle, and what desk to sit in.  He did this with only about 10 interruptions from other students and parents…it was Genevieve’s first glimpse into being part of a 26-student classroom.  (We’re not in Kansas anymore Toto…)  It was also our first real look at her classroom. 

There were about 30 desks, lined up in neat rows all facing forward.  An old-school chalkboard covered most of the wall at the front of the class.  There are windows down both sides of the classroom, one set facing out to the open-air hallway and courtyard in the middle of the school, the other set facing the outside.  There are four fans on the ceiling, and no air conditioning.  It was about 90 degrees the first day of school.

Genevieve’s desk was the last one in the last row…the one place we didn’t want her to sit.  With her focus issues, sitting in the front of the classroom makes a huge difference in her not getting distracted.  In her first test of advocating for herself, we told Genevieve to tell Ding Laoshi that she needed to sit up front.  She was able to communicate with him, he understood what she was asking, but told her these were only temporary seats.  Fair enough, we would wait and see.

While other kids roamed around the room and talked to each other and talked to parents and put their stuff away, Genevieve sat in her desk.  She was as quiet and still as I’d ever seen her.  Eyes huge in her face, freckles standing out on her pale skin, she looked terrified.  Even when we asked her questions and gently joked with her, we got one word responses in a tiny voice.  We tried to talk about what we saw in the classroom, and pointed out that there was at least one other foreign student in her class.  She asked how we knew, and when we said “because he’s black and there aren’t any black Taiwanese people,” she just nodded.  (Turns out that student is from Gambia!)  The whole thing was so unnatural; not at all our positive, sunny, and spirited Gigi. 

I don’t know what was going through her head during the 15 minutes from the time we arrived in her classroom till the time we left, but I can tell you what was going on for us.  Every doubt we’ve ever had about putting her in a local school reared its ugly head and ran through our minds.  But then we told ourselves she would figure it out, she would be OK.  Butterflies flew violently around our stomachs, our palms were clammy, and there was panic in our eyes.  We wondered if we could actually leave her there in that small desk at the back of the huge classroom.  But the bell rang, and we recognized it was time for parents to leave.  We hugged and kissed our strangely silent child, told ourselves that it was only four hours that first day, and walked out the door of the classroom, down the long hall, and out the front of the school.  Someone seeing us on the sidewalk that morning might have thought we’d just heard that someone died…we were as panicked and scared as Genevieve was. 

And she's on her own

Joe headed off to work via public bus, so worried about Genevieve that he was literally nauseous and called me twice to make sure we had done the right thing.  For me, the farther away from that classroom I got, the more I remembered how smart and adaptable Genevieve is.  It helped that I was dropping Amelia off at school, where two weeks previously she had also been scared and anxious, and now she was well-adjusted and happy to go to school.

The hours until pick-up time passed slowly, and then finally I was standing in front of the school waiting for Genevieve to come out, fingers and toes crossed that it had been a good day.  They usually come out together as a class, but that first day everyone seemed to rush out at once.  Luckily, it’s easy to spot G with her red hair in a sea of black hair.  She made her way slowly over to me, looking completely shell-shocked.  After a big hug I asked, “how was your first day?”  In our family we often give a thumbs up or thumbs down when giving a quick verdict about something.  Her thumb was somewhere between the neutral position and down…

The other little boy who had done the language assessment with Genevieve came out of school just then and his parents were standing next to me.  We all headed to Subway for a “survived first day of school” lunch.  Jet, the little boy, seemed happy and talkative, so I assumed his first day had gone a little better than Genevieve’s.  But over the course of lunch, with a little food and drink in her system, Genevieve came out of her trance and began to talk and play with Jet.  At one point I asked G if she understood her teacher and she said, “No Mom, I didn’t understand anything he said all day today.”  Oh no.  Then Jet’s mom asked him the same question and he ALSO said he had no idea was his teacher said all day.  That made me feel a little better…after all this is a child who speaks Mandarin and has a Taiwanese mother!

By the end of lunch, Genevieve resembled the happy, smiley child I’m used to, and we celebrated together the fact that she had a whole weekend to enjoy before she had to tackle school again.  She had officially survived her first day of school.  And so had her parents.

The Education Journey (Part 3) - Finding Other Parents & Registering for School

One thing that remained a mystery to me was access to other foreigners who had sent their children to Shidong Elementary.  I kept hearing people say, “I know someone who did that, but they moved away.” Or “I know they have lots of foreign students, there must be someone for you to talk to.”  I desperately wanted to talk to other parents and find out if I would be able to communicate with the teachers, how to make sure G got into the language assistance program, and what our biggest challenges would be.  Other parents are such a great resource!

Where are the other "foreign" parents?

So I did what I always do: I asked every single person I met if they knew anybody who could help me.  Finally at the end of week two I got a hit.  A lovely lady at the side of the pool who overheard my conversation with a friend sent a text to her friend who sent a text to another friend and voila!  I had the name and number of a mom whose children went to Shidong.  We set up a coffee date, and to my delight, she brought another mom with kids at Shidong and a tutor who was familiar with Shidong Elementary.

The conversation was so full of information and tips on how to negotiate the local school that I had to take notes!  A few of their tips:  

1. Genevieve would average 2 hours of homework per night if she was focused (uh oh).  

2. Chinese and other homework would be hard enough to keep up with, they had all given up on supplementing English and resigned themselves to their kids being in ESL when leaving Shidong.  

3. Social studies would be her hardest subject because it has a lots of vocabulary you tend to learn at home and because it deals mostly with the culture and history of Taiwan.  

4. There is one English speaker in the office, I need to find her and make her my friend.

These women assured me that Genevieve would do fine, but to make sure I got her registered ASAP and request she be in the language assistance class (like ESL, only for Mandarin).  I was off on my next mission for registration at the school!

Being an alien

When you arrive in Taiwan, everything you want to sign up for or register for requires your Alien Resident Card (ARC), which you can’t apply for until you establish residency, which means you need an address in country.  For the first week in Taiwan my children found the idea of the ALIEN resident card hilarious and told everybody we met that we were from America and we were aliens.  :)  I imagine many people privately thought, “truer words were never spoken!”  

Registering for school

Finally the magical ARC arrives and we make an appointment with the school to register Genevieve.  We meet with Carol (her English name), she is the designated English speaker in the administrative office. While she is very kind and helpful, I learn quickly that her English is limited and therefore my conversations were going to be simple and straightforward.  She handed me forms to fill out, four sheets of paper, all in Chinese characters of course.  She highlighted and translated the boxes I needed to fill in.  Right away I realized that long English words and names do not fit into the answer boxes.  For Taiwanese folk, most of their answers consist of a few characters, which are much more vertical in orientation than English, which is almost entirely horizontal. I spent a lot of time writing my answers in very tiny script to fit it all in!

I was a little disturbed that I only had to fill out 10 boxes on a four-page form with probably 100 questions.  Didn’t they need the answers to the rest of those mystery questions? Carol assured me they did not.  As usual, I just have to go along with whatever they say because I have no ability to read the rest of the form!

Not just paperwork

Carol tells me that Genevieve needs to do an assessment with one of the teachers so they can determine if she needs the language assistance class, and to decide what grade she will be placed in.  She tells me she will likely be in second or third grade, depending on her language abilities.  If her language skills aren’t adequate, she will need to spend the year learning the language, not necessarily accumulating knowledge, and it would be better for her to be in second grade. 

What she says makes sense, but I’m slightly shaken…it will be a blow to G’s self-esteem if they stick her in second grade when she’s just completed second grade in the U.S.  Genevieve hears the entire conversation of course and understands very well what’s happening, as evidenced by her sad face.  Carol tells me she’ll call by the end of the week with a time for the assessment.  

A week goes by and I don’t hear from Carol.  I am very afraid that they’ve forgotten about us or already made a decision without the assessment.  On Monday morning I finally call Carol and she tells me they are incredibly busy, because school is starting on Friday.  In my head I’m screaming, “YES, I know!  That’s why my kid needs to be tested and placed in a class!”  But on the phone I politely say, “Yes, can we please set up the assessment for Lingling?”  She says that she can maybe fit us in the next day at 10:30, I say “we’ll be there!”  I’m flummoxed by the “maybe fit us in” comment since she said she would schedule it a week ago, but I figure we’ll go to the office and sit there until somebody does the assessment!

Language assessment

G is very nervous about the assessment.  She keeps asking me what she’ll have to do.  I have no idea, but tell her my best guess is a teacher will talk to her and ask her all sorts of questions to figure out how well she speaks Chinese.  I stress to her the importance that she not be shy or hesitant, this is her only opportunity to show what she knows (and therefore not end up in second grade).  It’s a delicate balancing act to reassure her that’s she’ll be fine and yet emphasize that she needs to take the assessment seriously.  We arrive at school and, thank goodness, they are prepared for us. 

There is another student being assessed, and a teacher assigned to each of them.  The language assistance teachers speak beautiful English and are very good at putting the kids at ease.  Rebecca, Genevieve’s teacher, hands me a packet of forms to fill out.  It looks eerily similar to the ones I filled out the week before, but I just take it and wonder who can help me fill it out.

As luck would have it, the other student’s mom, Samantha, is Taiwanese but speaks English as she’s married to a British man.  She volunteers to read the forms to me and help me fill them out while the kids are doing the assessment.  I swear the first two forms are exactly the same as what I filled out before.  Then there is a page for why I think my student needs language assistance.  “Um, English is her first language and her parents don’t speak Chinese?” But I decided the longer explanation of "pre-school in Shanghai, Chinese immersion school in Portland, living in Taiwan and wanting to continue speaking Chinese" was probably in order.  Samantha graciously translated everything I said.  Or at least I assume she did because again, I am trusting she wrote what I said….

The results

The assessment, which I thought would be about 30 minutes long, lasted 1.5 hours.   The kids spoke to the teachers, wrote characters, read books, and worked in workbooks.  By the end, Genevieve was exhausted and struggling to stay engaged.  Rebecca told me that she spoke very well and she thought would likely be placed in 3^rd grade.  Huge relief! 

Then she went off to the office and was able to get Genevieve’s teacher’s name and the room number for us.  Hallelujah, now we knew where to go on Friday morning.  But wait, how did they have that assignment so fast when we had just completed the assessment?  Apparently they had already assigned her to a third grade classroom?  Who knows, I was just grateful to know she was registered, the assessment was done, and we would know where to go on Friday morning at 7:50am.

The Education Journey (Part 2) - Finding a Tutor

Once we had determined that Genevieve would go to a local school, our next steps involved how to best prepare her for a true immersion experience.  Our biggest worry was finding her a tutor, or possibly multiple tutors.  Her background with simplified characters meant our first priority was getting a handle on traditional characters.  A quick conversation with our realtor in Taipei had enlightened us to bo-po-mo-fo, which is the system that children use to learn the strokes that make up a character.  Similar to how we have 26 letters and sounds in our alphabet and we call it learning the A-B-Cs, children in Taiwan learn 30+ strokes with sounds starting with bo-po-mo-fo.  Frankly, it’s more fun to say bo-po-mo-fo than ABCs, just try saying it out loud.  J

Learning traditional characters

In Portland, a google search revealed a school in SE Portland where they taught traditional characters.  We signed up for tutor sessions twice a week where G started to tackle bo-po-mo-fo and where her teacher assured both of us that she was very bright and it would be fairly easy for her to pick things up once she was in Taiwan.  It gave us both confidence in what we were doing.

Decisions don’t prevent doubts (the eternal struggle of parenting!)

However, at the same time the tutor is encouraging us, a Taiwanese co-worker of mine was telling me that she thought local school would be very hard for my daughter, because they are very strict, have very large classes, and students do a lot of listening.  She was adamant that American students would have a hard time in this system because American kids are used to interactive classrooms and asking lots of questions. (Alternatively, she also thought TAS was a school for spoiled wealthy children and would ruin Genevieve's character, so she didn’t like either of my alternatives!) 

Her comments made me uneasy because G has a very hard time sitting still and listening to a teacher for long periods of time.  I didn't think she was a big question-asker, so that would be OK, but sitting still and focusing would be hard.

When I questioned my co-worker about the social scene in local schools, she cringed even more and said it really depended on my daughter and the other kids in the class and the teacher.  She said it could be good, the other kids would likely be very curious about her and want to talk to her just because she looks so different from them, but it could also be very bad and they could decide to make fun of her accent and bully her a lot.  UGH.  Not comforting, but then she saved the entire doubt-generating conversation by giving me the BEST idea. 

Gift giving

She said we should find some small gift that represented Oregon and take enough for every student in G’s new class.  I knew instantly that this would be a good ice-breaker and would honor the gift-giving tradition that is so strong in Taiwan.  Brilliant!  G and I put our heads together thinking of possible gifts.  It became apparent we were at cross-purposes; her goal was to give something really cool, my goal was not to break the bank, knowing she would have 25-30 kids in her class! 

After a thorough look around the Made in Oregon store, we settled on Portland postcards and saltwater taffy.  Why saltwater taffy?  Because we thought chocolate would melt during the trip, but saltwater taffy is still made in Oregon and could survive in tact.  (More later about how this postcard plan brought Genevieve to the very edge of an emotional cliff days before school started…)

It’s a small world

Once we arrived in Taiwan, one of my top priorities, after feeding my children and finding my way around my new city, was to find G a tutor who could help with homework and learning traditional characters.  In a truly small world twist, my mom in Klamath Falls, Oregon is the one who helped me find a tutor in Tianmu, Taiwan.  J  

Side note:  I have to give a shout out to my mom here. She is one of those people who knows someone WHEREVER she/we go in the world, despite the fact that she lives in a small town in southern Oregon.  We call it her super-power and tease her about it all the time, but it really paid off for us here in Taiwan, so we’re done teasing you Mom.  J

My mom has a Taiwanese colleague, Hui-Yun, at OIT (Oregon Institute of Technology) in Klamath Falls who was in Taipei for the summer with her family and my mom e-introduced us.  Once we were on the ground in Taipei, I emailed her and we set up a coffee date at Starbucks.  In the email exchange she asked what she could help me with in her native city.  We were settling in pretty well, so I told her the only thing I was really worried about was finding a tutor for G.  The next day when we met for coffee, she had the name of a potential tutor.  I was truly shocked, I couldn’t believe it, such fast work! 

Spirit of generosity

It was one of many, many kindnesses we have experienced from local Taiwanese people.  I’m sad to admit that at first I was a little suspicious of this help that was consistently offered.  Did they want something in return?  Were they telling me the truth?  And then I wondered “Why do I question this generosity?”  Is it because I’m scared to offer help to strangers in the US because you never know if people will think you’re interfering and get mad at you?  Possibly.  I’m not sure. 

But I know that here in Taiwan, local Taiwanese people genuinely want to help and truly go out of their way to make sure you’re OK.  From the stranger in Carrefour who helped us decipher which milk was low-fat vs. whole fat, to the mom who gave me Chinese books she thought Genevieve might like, to Joe’s coworker who explained how addresses work in Taipei, to the guy at 7-11 who told us where to get an Easy card in the MRT station, the generosity comes from the heart.

I have experienced such kindness from strangers here in Taipei that I often feel desperate to try to explain to these helpful people how much their assistance has helped me, but there are no adequate words!  I can only say xie xie, xie xie ni (thank you) over and over again.  But I am resolved to pay it forward here in Taiwan, and when I am at home in the U.S.  When I see someone struggling with a situation where I can help, I will offer my assistance, knowing that it may make all the difference to their day, week, month.  It’s worth the risk.

Finding our tutor

Anyway, I met my mom’s friend Hui-Yun for coffee.  I had Genevieve and Mimi in tow, she had her niece, nephew, and son in tow.  Her niece, born and raised in Taiwan but now a junior at University of Oregon, took the kids off for snacks and a chat in Chinese.  (Incidentally, can you imagine the culture shock of growing up in Taiwan and then moving to Klamath Falls, OR to live with your aunt for high school before attending U of O???)  

Hui-Yun said, “Let’s call Vivien, the woman I found to tutor Genevieve, and talk to her about how she can help you.”  I replied, "Yes, please!"  And privately I thought “Thank God, I’m not sure how much English she speaks or even how to start this conversation, or what the going rate for tutoring is!” 

It turned out Vivien was a friend of a friend, but Hui-Yun knew she was a young woman who is a teacher and is bi-lingual and could tutor on the weekends.  It was a good start, but I knew we also needed help with homework every day after school, but perhaps Vivien knew someone.  So we tried to call Vivien, but she wasn’t answering, so Hui-Yun called Vivien’s mother (how she had this number I don’t know!)  In the course of talking to the mother, Hui-Yun discovers that she is a former teacher and runs an after-school program for primary school kids.  And she says she could help Genevieve after school, and she is free right now and could meet us and show us her school and talk to us about tutoring.  Wow, OK.  We’ve gone from coffee to meeting a potential tutor in 15 minutes!

So we pile into two taxis to meet this woman.  We meet up, get into her car and she tells us that her name is Mei-Ling, but Genevieve can call her Auntie Mei.  Already it’s evident how sweet and friendly and happy to meet us she is.  She starts driving to her school, I stare out the window trying hard to memorize where we’re going, knowing I might have to get Genevieve here again by myself. 

Mei-Ling and Hui-Yun sit in front of the mini-van talking a mile a minute and I sit in the back with my two girls marveling about two things:  First, Hui-Yun’s kids have jumped into a taxi, then another car, without one word of complaint that they are spending an afternoon schlepping around trying to help some foreigner find a tutor.  And second, like so many other situations, I am at the mercy of the kindness of other people and I have to just be patient and see how this situation works out.  Oh, and third, I desperately wish to know what is being said in the front seat and wondering why I didn’t work harder on my Chinese in China and ever since.

Cram school?

We get to Mei-Ling’s school and Hui-Yun tells me that Mei-Ling actually owns the school, and that it’s a math cram school.  I’m taken aback, I have no need for a math cram school!  But Hui-Yun tells me that Mei-Ling isn’t doing any math tutoring right now, she has other teachers for that and Genevieve can come here after school and she will help her with all her homework.  Hmm, OK?  I’m not sure what to think about this, but it is only a 10 minute walk from G’s school and Mei-Ling seems very kind.  It also might be better for G to be in a place with other kids, rather than 1:1 tutoring at home.  Perhaps this will be a good situation, I’m trying to assess.

Then we get back in the car and Mei-Ling proceeds to drive us all around Tianmu (our neighborhood) and point out all the good restaurants, the good markets, her house, her church, and a public swimming pool.  Also, she tells Hui-Yun that she will charge me 10,000NT per month for Genevieve to come to her school 3 x week for 2 hours each time.  I quickly calculate and realize that she will be charging me about $15USD per hour for tutoring.  This is significantly less than I anticipated, I budgeted for $20-25USD per hour, so yippee! 

When I try to confirm that I got the number right, Mei-Ling says she will take whatever I can pay, she just wants to make sure Genevieve gets the help she needs in school.  I am surprised and wondering what’s behind this offer, but after more conversation with Hui-Yun, it's clear that Mei-Ling is very kind and genuinely wants to help us.  We agree on the monthly fee.  But this is all moving very fast, shouldn’t I be interviewing other tutors?  Then again, where am I going to find other tutors?

Should we do this?

Quietly in the backseat, I talk to Genevieve about if she feels comfortable with Mei-Ling, if she will be OK going to her school.  G is unsure and tentative in her answers, she tells me she likes Mei-Ling OK, but she talks too fast.  J  To which I reply, “At least you mostly understand what Mei-Ling says, even if she slowed down I would still be clueless!”  We decide together that we will give Mei-Ling and her cram school a try, but if it doesn’t work out, we can always find someone else.  G seems happy with this, gives a small smile and a decisive nod, and then tells Mei-Ling she talks too fast.  Mei-Ling laughs and tells her that she will speak more slowly.

I am slightly dazed by the fact that in the span of 24 hours I’ve gone from not knowing how to find a tutor to having found a situation that seems quite good.  I’m nervous about the fact that Mei-Ling only speaks a tiny bit of English, but that’s my problem, not hers or Genevieve’s.  The more time Genevieve spends speaking Chinese, including during homework, the faster she will adapt.  So, wow, at the end of the first week in town we found a tutor to help G with her homework.  

And during all this running around, Vivien calls back and says she can work with Genevieve during the three weeks until school starts, and then on the weekends after that. 

And we’re on our way

My mental list of getting G ready for school is getting checked off:  Homework tutor, check.  Traditional character tutor, check.  Now onto things like registering for school, finding out where to buy her PE uniform, figuring out how I’m going to communicate with her teacher and the administration…three weeks to go until school starts.

G's Journey to a Local School

Many of you have heard me lamenting the complex situation of Genevieve’s education in Taiwan, but others have asked how we got where we are today.  People have been sweet to assume it’s not because we are $^&* crazy.  Brace yourselves, it’s been a long journey to get here, and therefore it’s a long blog post!

When we lived in Shanghai from 2007-2009, Genevieve was 2-4 years old and she attended a local Chinese preschool.  We didn't send her to school to become a bilingual child, I just needed her to spend some time with other people during the day so we didn’t harm each other! J  (Yes,  it's true, I was not cut out to be a full-time stay at home mom.)  But she loved the school and took the language differences in stride, and after the first year she was speaking to our ayi (helper) in Chinese.  When we moved home to Portland, we were determined that ALL our children would learn to speak a different language, but it was especially important for G to continue her Chinese because she had a headstart.  

Why do we want all our kids to speak another language?  We saw again and again when we lived in Shanghai the amazing doors that additional languages opened…not just with those who spoke English and Chinese, but with those who spoke French, Spanish, German, etc. Multi-lingual people had access to so many more people and experiences than we were privy to.  Returning to Portland from Shanghai, I had a vague recollection of a PEO sister of mine whose children were learning to speak Chinese so I emailed her.  Lots of contacts and information later, we enrolled Genevieve in NWCA (Northwest Chinese Academy).  At NWCA, she had all her instruction, every day, in Chinese.  The only exception  was English class.  

OK, fast forward 4 years to 2013.  At the age of 8, G has been speaking Chinese for 6 years now.  When the opportunity to move to Taiwan came up, Joe and I were ecstatic about the chance for G to continue her Chinese, knowing that she would advance her language and have a cultural experience to boot.  We gleefully told ourselves that she would go to a local Taiwanese school and conquer the world.  :)

It was not until we spoke with a friend who had been an expat in Taiwan that our balloon deflated.  She pointed out that Taiwan still uses traditional characters, unlike mainland China which has converted to using simplified characters.  Um, OK?  G has been learning to read and write simplified characters for the last 6 years and at first, we didn’t grasp the enormity of traditional vs. simplified characters, but a few conversations later it became clear:  G would be able to speak and understand the spoken language, but reading and writing would be very different at the least, and extremely challenging at the most.  Some simplified characters are literally simplifications of traditional characters by way of removing some strokes, but most are not, they are actually different characters for the same word.

 

Simplified vs. traditional characters is a huge debate, the likes of which I don’t even pretend to fully understand but if you're interested in an overview you could read http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Debate_on_traditional_and_simplified_Chinese_characters on wikipedia.

In our limited discussions with people from both countries we found that Taiwanese people will tell you that simplified characters have taken the heart and culture out of the language.  Mainland Chinese people will tell you that simplified characters have made the language more accessible to everyone and increased literacy.  It’s not a debate we wanted to enter, we just wanted to figure out if G would be able to go to a local school!

While learning about traditional vs. simplified, the internal monologue (read whining) in my head went something like this: “Why on earth can’t they all read and write the same way?  Our life would be so much simpler if they did.”  Because, you know, it’s all about my family, nothing to do with hundreds of years of ideology around the language.  

The research about what to do for G’s education in Taiwan began in earnest before we ever took our look-see trip to Taipei.  We started by asking what the differences truly are between traditional and simplified, but of course the answers actually meant nothing to us because we don't speak, read or write either language!  We had nothing to compare it to, no frame of reference. So we were reliant on teachers, other expats, and Taiwanese co-workers to tell us how hard this would be for G.  Half the people we talked to said she would be fine, she’d figure it out in a couple months and be on her way.  The other half of the people grimaced and said it was going to be very difficult and maybe not something we wanted to do to an 8 year old.   No definitive direction from that line of inquiry.

So when we arrived in Taipei for our look-see trip in April, we not only looked for an apartment, we also visited all the school possibilities for the kids.  Here’s what it came down to:

Taipei American School (TAS) – One of 3 international schools in the area where we live (there is also a European school and a Japanese school).  If G attended here she would be with her older sister, she would be getting a top-notch private school education, but she would only get 35 minutes of Mandarin instruction per day. We would also be able to speak freely to her teachers without a language barrier, which is a big consideration for us because G has focus issues and requires specific help in the classroom.  We could hire a tutor for her Chinese, but she wouldn’t be able to maintain it at a level that would allow her to return to NWCA when we repatriate.

The bottom line @ TAS:  She would make no more progress on speaking Mandarin, but she would be in a great school with an easy social situation and we could speak freely to her teachers. 

*Plus for the first time ever 2/3 of my children would be in the same school and I would look like less of a crazy person!  Not that how I’m perceived is a real priority, but I’m always looking for ways to look a little less loony.

ShiDong Elementary School – This is the local elementary school and has a small percentage of foreign students enrolled. It is one of only two public schools in Taipei with a CSL (Chinese as a Second Language) program.  If she attended here she would speak Chinese all day (school is 8:00-4:00!) and so her Chinese would progress by leaps and bounds.  But she would need a tutor every day to help her with homework and learning the traditional characters.  She would also need an English tutor because we don’t want her 2 years behind in grammar, writing, sentence composition, etc when we return to the States.  And we would not be able to communicate easily with her teacher, it would require assistance from a friend/tutor/bilingual person. Conversations with Taiwanese co-workers and friends split evenly on how her social situation would be:  half said the Taiwanese kids would be interested in her because she’s a foreigner and would want to be friends, the other half said she would be bullied and ostracized as a foreigner and would likely not have any friends.  (I even read a blog that detailed this experience for one ex-pat family in Taiwan.)

The bottom line @ ShiDong:  It would be the most work for G (and for us), and we were unsure of the social situation.  The payoff?  She would continue speaking the Chinese that she loves, and she could come out of the situation knowing simplified AND traditional characters and have more versatility than we ever imagined.  She could also return to NWCA for fifth grade.  She might also learn to cope with her focus issues in new and creative ways.

As you can tell, our visits to schools in Taipei did nothing to clarify which school we should put G into.  We made lists of pros and cons, we talked endlessly about the “right” thing to do for her, we tried to separate our dreams of language acquisition for our kids from the needs of our child, and we talked to absolutely everybody we could think of who might have some advice or insight on this.  By the way, a big thank you to all of you who were subjected to our agonizing over this situation… you listened attentively and made lovely sympathetic noises.  I know most of you were thinking “just hurry up and make a decision already so you can shut up about this,” and we truly appreciate that you didn’t say that out loud.  J

For weeks and weeks we didn’t know what we were going to do, but we did choose an apartment that was in the ShiDong school district so that option stayed open to us.  And then we came to our senses and decided to include G in the conversation. 

In some ways 8 years old is very young, and in some ways it’s more than old enough to be included in decisions about how you spend your days.  We sat down with her and laid out all our thoughts about both schools in the most unbiased way we could.  It was a hard conversation because the child has the attention span of a gnat, but we got through it. 

Her first reaction was that she would like to be in school with her sister at TAS because she could help her with making friends with all the Mandarin speakers.  She has such a sweet heart.  (We had told her that the instruction at TAS was all in English, but most of the kids were speaking Mandarin in the hallway when we were there, so she wanted to help Livi adjust to that.) 

But her second reaction was more thoughtful.  She said that the most important thing to her is that she be able to return to NWCA and all her friends at NWCA when we move back.  She gave a little decisive nod and said she wanted to go to the local school if that meant she could keep up with her Chinese.  We re-explained all the extra tutors that would be required, pointed out that her days would essentially be from 8:00-6:00, and that she would have to work very hard just to keep up.  She asked to think about it a little, and the next morning she told us, “I want to keep speaking Chinese, and I want to go back to my friends at NWCA, so I think I better go to ShiDong.”

And there you have it, a decision was made.  We wanted to stand up and cheer for her bravery and courage, but we knew if we made too big of a deal about how amazing and challenging this would be, she might be intimidated and back out of her decision.  We were in AWE of what she was willing to do, and we loved that she had found her own motivation apart from ours…her friends.  So we smiled and said we thought she’d made a good choice and I set about finding a tutor in Portland to introduce her to traditional characters over the summer. 

And honestly, I totally panicked.  My mind was a constant whirl of doubts and worries. What if she could hack it academically, but the kids were mean to her?  What if she couldn’t figure out traditional characters and learned nothing?  What if her teacher was pissed he/she got stuck with a foreign student?  What if they wouldn’t let her sit at the front of the classroom where she needs to be?  What if she was miserable at school but she couldn’t or wouldn’t tell us?  What if we were putting too much responsibility on her sweet little head and shoulders? What if she would be totally and completely scarred and screwed up by this experience for the rest of her life???  Well, on that last one, as it turns out, we did that to her anyway by nicknaming her Gigi and then moving her to a country where that word is slang for penis, but that’s another story.

At the end of the day, all these worries were mine and Joe’s, not Genevieve’s.  And rightfully so; we are parents and it’s our job to look at this from every angle and consider as much as we can the consequences for the situations we put our kids in.  But Oh. My. God. it added stress to moving to a new country.

So we moved to Taipei knowing that Genevieve would attend ShiDong Elementary School.  And we knew it would be as scary for us as it was for her, yet we did our grown-up best not to let her know that we were completely FREAKED OUT for her.  :)