So [Un]cool

Do you remember when you first learned to skate? Did you lace up roller skates or strapped on roller blades? For many of our students, our trip to Skateland in December marked another "first" in their life. Although we had some veteran skaters in our school population, most students - and some staff - excitedly slipped and tied on their roller skates for the first time, teasing each other and giggling at the funny-looking shoes they traded their comfortable shoes for.

Do you remember what it felt like to first skate? Did you have someone holding your hand or did you brave it on your own? Our school would have made fine candidates for "America's Funniest Home Videos" had we captured and recorded some of our students and staff members' first attempts at skating. The images play over and over in my mind. Students and teachers happily helping each other to stand and patiently instructing the learner to relax, bend their knees and slide each foot forward. The faces displayed exhilaration, frustration, and pure enjoyment. What a sight! Arms and legs were all over the air. Faces and bottoms landing on the floor countless times. If you happened to be there, you would've seen the popular math teacher from Jamaica flapping about, the lanky Somalian kid dancing instead of skating, and the lean Burmese girls clinging tightly to each other.

Do you remember falling many times and scratching yourself? Do you remember feeling wobbly and nervous at first, until finally, success? We were such an entertaining mass, such a messy attempt at skating. But the most admirable thing that struck me was how the students were unafraid and unconcerned about how clumsy and unco-ordinated they looked on the rink. They were so eager to learn, determined not to fall, and resolute that they too can fly like their more experienced peers and teachers.

I want to save that moment forever. The feeling that these students felt they could do whatever they set their heart to do, even at something seemingly simple like roller skating. Others may roll their eyes and mutter, So uncool... But in my heart, I shout: Go for it, mate!

At Peace

It is one of those photos you wish your parents wouldn't show off so much to everyone. But it so marks a defining moment in your family's life it will definitely appear in someone's memoir.

The photo shows a young family. Just stepped off a plane. If the chilly August morning was too cold, they tried hard not to show it. They had just flown in eight, or maybe ten hours from Manila, a quick stopover in Sydney, before finally landing at the humble Adelaide airport. Welcome to your new home.

The photo showed a young, gawky teen-ager with an awkward looking smile and hair that seems to defy what hair conditioners are made for. It was an exciting opportunity to live in another country but I was not prepared for the roller coaster of emotions that soon came after the euphoria of being on a plane for the first time.

Now I am thirty. Married. A teacher. In another country. The USA. I have somehow shelved the immigration experience, until late last year as I listened to my students tell me how old they were. Fourteen. Fifteen. Sixteen. In their teens and although they couldn't express it to me, I understood them. Bombarded by changes in the weather, food, clothes, school system, language, culture, friends...among other things. There were many times I couldn't understand why I became so withdrawn as a teenager. There were many times I didn't know who to hang out with - I seemed to stand out with my looks, my accent and my choice of clothes. There were many times I vowed I would return back "home" and so faithfully wrote to all my best friends back in the Philippines. And there were yet many times I choked on the question, "Where are you from?" and angry why people asked me where I learned to speak English.

Only in 2007 did I feel at peace. At peace with who I am and what I have experienced as a young immigrant. Perhaps you can say that all my life has been preparation. A gawky, young, fifteen-year old. Photographed with an awkward smile when she arrived in a new country. She didn't know she arrived on training ground to be a star polisher for her students. She didn't know until now.