High school years

My first two high school years were spent in ESL (English as a Second Language) classes.  The first high school I attended was filled with Asian (mostly Vietnamese) students.  I became pretty good friends with a couple of Taiwanese girls.

Life was simple back then.  After every school day, I took a snack break when I got home. Then it was study time until my mom called us for dinner.  I helped clean up after dinner and it was study time again.  If I watched TV during school days, it was because I wanted to mimic their conversations.

My world was focused on studying.  Nothing else mattered, not fashion, not New Kids On The Block, not boy-crush.  I didn't have any idols, I wasn't into movie stars.  Just because I could read about people's lives didn't mean I knew them.  I never understood the reason for hanging up posters of strangers in one's room.  My bedroom had posters of unicorns. 

My weekends were spent either studying, watching Chinese movies with my mom at home, or hanging out with my girl friends.  The friends I had were in the same boat as I was, they were recent immigrants and studying was a big priority.  They were school-focused.  Dating was not on their mind, nor was it on their parents' agenda.  I felt comfortable with them. 

I wasn't particularly sociable, I was content spending my spare time at home.  But my mom wanted me to have a social life.  She said no one could live without friends.  She pushed me to go out to movies or shopping malls with friends whenever I was not studying.   I developed a hobby of collecting stickers during my high school years.  Trips to shopping malls gave me opportunities to build my sticker collection so I wasn't too resistant.  

My friends in high school thought I was bossy and opinionated.  I didn't see it that way, but I didn't care enough to explain nor explore.  I didn't care how others felt about me.  If they didn't like me, they could just hang around someone else instead. 

I used to tell my mom about all my interactions with friends.  Instead of just listening to the words that were exchanged, she often interjected with more questions.   She would ask me how a conversation came about, what facial expressions I saw, the tones of voice, and what body movements were involved.  She often said to me, "Daughter-ah, just remember, the same sentence, said in different tones, mean different things.  You have to be smart about it!" 

My sense of fashion was not developed in high school.  I wore whatever that was comfortable.  My grandmother sent my mom and I clothing from Hong Kong on a regular basis.  My closet was filled with stuff my mom and my grandmother bought.  I had no need to add to it.   On a few occasions, my mom told me to go clothes shopping with friends.  She was never pleased with my selections so I continued on wearing clothing my mom and my grandmother bought. 

Just as I was getting comfortable with the routines of my high school life.  We moved.