I’m an international student from Singapore. In Singapore, people speak a form of English called Singlish, which is kind of like Spanglish. Be patient with me as I teach you a few Singlish basics.
1. “Lah” is often used at the end of sentences, but it does not have a specific meaning. An example of its usage would be “If you don’t feel like going to the concert, don’t go lah.”
2. “Shiok” is used to express pleasure, and could be used as such: “I felt so shiok when we won the basketball game.”
3. “Aiyoh” is used in the same instances when you would say “Oh my goodness.” You might say, “Aiyoh, I can’t believe he did that to you!”
When I was a freshman, I remember having dinner with four other Singaporeans and two Americans. As the night went on, the Singaporeans subconsciously started using Singlish phrases. I realized a short while later that the two Americans stopped participating in the conversation. Clearly, this was not a coincidence.
It was only when I reflected on this incident a few days later that I realized just how thoughtless we had been. The uniqueness and foreignness of Singlish had made our American friends feel extremely excluded—hence they stopped talking. Yet during the dinner we didn’t feel bothered, because we Singaporeans were the “majority” at the table.
In the U.S. it isn’t often that I’m in the majority, so I’m very thankful that most Americans I’ve met have been extremely welcoming—far more so than I was at that dinner. Sure, I’ve gotten some “You are a really weird person” looks when I pronounce “z” as “zed” instead of “zee,” or when I say “spectacles” instead of “glasses.” I’ve also heard Americans say that international students are “stealing” the places that rightfully belong to American students. And when I entered a Waffle House in Asheville last October with two other Asian friends, we heard an elderly white male customer exclaim in a strong Southern accent, “WHAT IN THE HELL?!”
By and large though, my positive encounters far outweigh the negative ones. Most Americans ask me lots of questions about Singapore: mandatory military service, the ban on selling chewing gum, the strict laws and the clean streets. Moreover, they often ask me what it’s like to be an international student and whether I’ve found it difficult to adjust to life here. They’ve shown a genuine interest in my unique experience of life, and for that I am tremendously grateful.
Interestingly, I only recently came to the conscious realization that I’ve experienced both worlds—although I am a minority in the U.S., I am a part of the majority in Singapore. Seventy percent of Singapore’s population is Chinese (I’m Chinese by ethnicity but Singaporean by nationality), so I’ve never thought about what it’s like to be marginalized or neglected as a minority. But after living in America for three years, I now know what it feels like when your views are—on occasion—discounted primarily because of the color of your skin, or when people slap unkind labels on you because of your race.
As I was growing up, I did not deliberately try to make the minorities in Singapore—Malays, Indians, immigrants from mainland China—feel at home. When I was with a diverse group of friends I sometimes used Chinese phrases that my Malay or Indian friends likely did not understand, and I rarely inquired about their views on race relations—mainly because I assumed all along that Singapore was extremely well-integrated, both racially and culturally.
It is often too easy to neglect the feelings of minorities. It takes special effort and a willingness to put yourself in their position, in order to understand the paradigms through which they view the world—and from my personal experience, it makes a world of difference to them when you do.
I’m reminded of something my wise mom once said to me: “Respect is something that needs to be earned, but honor is an attitude of the heart. Not everyone will earn your respect, but everyone deserves to be shown honor.”
So my sincerest thanks, once again, to all of the wonderful Americans who have treated me and other foreigners with honor by warmly receiving us. And even if you have not, I understand as I have been in your shoes as well.
Keep in mind, however, that the smallest gestures really do go a long way in making minorities feel like they’re part of a larger community.
Daniel Wong is a Pratt junior. His column runs every other Wednesday.
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