Relatives' Weddings (Part IV)

Living in Westchester, New York for a couple of years has eventually diverged me in different directions from my fellow relatives. I remember beginning a conversation with my cousins and ended up with the only comment: "You talk like white people". I always end my conversion with them in confusion, wondering if some of the topics they were actively discussing about were actually important or "fun". One time I overheard the conversations that my cousins were having, and they were talking about new immigrants. Alarmed, I paused what I was doing, and focused on what they have to say.

"She is so quiet, I'm not sure what I can say to her."

"Maybe she is just shy."

"Well she shouldn't be shy anymore since she has already been with us for a couple of month."

"She can't speak English."

I slowly moved away from these sound sources, and swam to look for a safer place for docking. I'm not sure if they were talking about me, but for a timid individual who only has her parents to talk to, the American sassiness only frightened me more. They dislike me-- for my status as an immigrant, and for my appearent lack of enthusisum in talking to them. The latter was not true, I wanted connections with them more than anything, since positive relationships with people can only benefit me. However, I was not able to overcome my fear of messing up my English while talking to them. 'What if I don't know what they were talking about? What if they don't think I am as cool as them? What if I mess up my pronunciation?' Now reflecting back to the concerns I had, I admit I was being silly.

When people have bad first impressions, especially when they were in a more vulnerable state, it will make a large impact on the rest of their relations. My first impressions with my relatives were not positive. On top of that, I did not try to make any efforts to move our relationship with them in positive directions. Maybe it is because I refuse to kiss up to people, or because of my odd experiences in Westchester.

No doubt that this odd immigration journey has made me feel much unique compare to other immigrants. Similarly, these unique environments has yielded very little heart-to-heart friends. Often times I see a group of girls walking on the street talking in a foreign language in the city of New York. These encounters were especially prominent during the summer, when students take advantages of their summer vacations to go to places exotic. Seeing those groups of people has never affected my mood in any positive direction, either because larger crowds of people are always intimidating, or because I never belonged to any groups of friends close enough to travel together.