Paying Attention

She came into the center with a graduate-level paper and a middle-school grasp on English.

She was small, with bobbed black hair and searching brown eyes, looking for an answer in a language she only just understood.

I was afraid, as I always am before a session, that I would be useless to her–that maybe we would both become more frustrated and confused than before we started the session.

I have never been so pleased to be wrong.

We spoke in simple sentences.

Her story unfolded before me like drops of colored ink blossoming in a vase of clear water.

She was forty-something, a Chinese American, who had bravely come to this land where the people were distant and unconnected, a land where the promise of hope and happiness was obscured behind a barrier of unfamiliar sounds and words that had no equivalent.

I listened.

I learned.

She was so unlike the barely-nineteen-year-olds who traipse in and out of these doors every day, with their minds belonging only to themselves, closed windows that would have looked out on opportunities and smelled the fresh air of chance if only they would open and take the time to look out through a different pair of eyes and see the world beyond them.

To look into a different pair of eyes and see the world within them.

Her paper was about the differences between the individualistic culture of America and the collectivistic culture of her homeland. The focus was on complimenting others verbally.

I had never paid so much attention to how many times I would say “good job” in a session.

She opened my eyes to how much we rely on flattery to gain our place in society.

We move from place to place, from group to group, and in order for us to fit in, we say such shallow things as “your hair looks nice today,” for we might not see that person again tomorrow to tell them differently. We, egoists as we are, speak of appearances more than we speak of deeds.

I slowly came to realize that when she moved away from China, she had lost more than just her language. She had lost her world, and had to learn how to rebuild it in an entirely different way.

I had never paid so much attention to how I was afraid of change.

She explained to me that in China, the collectivist mindset means that you start the lowest level of school with the people who become your friends. Nobody moves away. You all focus on what is best for the group, and you don’t chase the petty American dream of “moving up” in life – only of contributing as best you can, where you are.

You get to know the people around you. You say things like, “You always draw hands so well,” or, “You are a constancy of forgiveness in my life.” You move beyond complimenting only on appearances, because you know more about them than how they look today.

I learned so much from this writer – from this paper – about myself, my culture, the world within our eyes.

I don’t even remember her name.

But I cannot tell you how many times I have spoken of her paper to the people around me, hoping that they will catch a glimpse into the world behind her eyes, hoping that I can become more like her –to get to know the people around me.

I had never paid so much attention to how much attention I paid to myself.

One thought on “Paying Attention

  1. What a beautifully written article! It is amazing to hear about the culture this woman is coming from, and how her perspective made such an impact on you. So many of our tutees offer us an experience to learn new things. Thanks for the read!

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *