Two languages in one
I had my Chinese writing final today.
The prompt made full sense to me. Elaborate responses formed in my head. But I knew it was hopeless. I couldn't transfer them to the paper. My thinking redirected towards circumvention. I needed to dilute, cut up, and simplify my thoughts, so that I could express them with the rudimentary set of characters I knew. It was frustrating.
I was raised in the US, speaking Chinese. My pronunciation is flawless. My vocabulary is developed. I doubt a native speaker could discern my background.
But until the past few years, I was completely illiterate. What use would reading and writing Chinese be of in the great big USA anyways? And so in my formative years, I never bothered to learn. But eventually, this fact began giving me a bad feeling. Like I was dishonoring my heritage. How could I not be literate? When I entered middle school, I started taking Chinese classes for this reason.
Now, after six years, I'm in a limbo of being halfway literate. In some ways, it's worse than just being completely illiterate. I can never read an article without translating or guessing at a few phrases. And I can never write my mind directly onto a sheet of paper.
I'm confident that it's just a matter of time before I break out of it. But moments like today's make me wonder, just how much longer will it take? Chinese is my mother tongue, but not my mother hand.