Critical Incident Essay: A Glimpse into the Life of My Grandparents

Coming to Italy, I had no background in speaking Italian. The closest thing I knew was Spanish, and I learned pretty quickly that in Italy, it would not suffice. I'd need to learn Italian as soon as possible, not only to speak to the locals but also to communicate with my host mom, Paola. This was quite the culture shock to me because growing up in the U.S., I'd never had to conform to someone else's language to be understood. It was always them who'd have to adapt to me.

During the first week I was in Italy, I went to the local pharmacy to pick up some toiletries with my two friends. At the time, I knew nothing about the Italian language, which proved to be difficult when I needed to find a face wash and shampoo. All the writing on the bottles was in Italian, and none of the products they had on the shelves were the same as what we had in America. Frazzled and not knowing how to ask for help, the only thing I knew how to do was pull up my Google Translate app and scan every other bottle that looked like the product I was looking for. I began to sweat and panic as I got strange looks and became more and more overwhelmed when I couldn't find what I was looking for. My two friends waited for me at the door while I nervously picked up and put down every bottle to see what I was looking for. When I finally reached the register, I couldn't understand what the cashier was saying to me and got even more flustered. I felt so embarrassed and questioned how I was going to survive the next few months without knowing fluent Italian. Walking home, I felt defeated.

Reflecting back on that day, what was "really" happening was that I got angered that my needs weren't being adapted to, like how I mentioned previously. I'd never had to speak another language to someone, besides some Spanish at work here and there. It was always the other people who would try and speak English to me. So, when it came time for me to play the opposite role, I got angry that my normal wasn't being portrayed. I felt upset that no one was there to help me, and I resented myself for not knowing the local language.

I think I was taught to feel this way because of who I was around growing up. My mom and her family moved to the United States from Korea when she was only seven. While my mom and my aunt learned English at a young age, my grandparents could only manage to speak it brokenly. So, as I grew up, my grandparents conformed to English because that's all my siblings and I knew. Rather than teach us, children, how to speak their native language, they as full-grown adults adapted to our needs and used English for us. This is what I was used to growing up. There would be a thought here and there that I should learn Korean, but I never had the real motivation to learn. It makes me sad to think about this because, to a degree, that incident in the pharmacy must've been what my grandparents experienced throughout the entire time they've lived in America, and still to this day. Before Italy, I only had encounters with translating English to them at a young age. Now, I was the one who needed the translating, and no one was there to help me.

My Grandparents ❤️❤️❤️

Experiencing this incident put me in my grandparent's shoes. Never before had I been in a situation where when I needed help, and the people around me couldn't understand me. I felt dumb and helpless, and I couldn't even express it. I felt alone, even though I was surrounded by people. All I could think of in the days following was that this is how my grandparents must've felt when they came here for the first time. It made me sad to think about them walking into a store as I did, and not knowing how to ask for help. What this experience made me appreciate, though, is how they overcame these obstacles. Within a few years of being in the United States, my grandparents were able to own and operate their own grocery store in Brooklyn. When my mom and aunt got older, they moved to Long Island and ran two successful dry-cleaning stores. I think about this now and am in complete awe of how they were able to do it. They were able to come to America, raise two young, successful girls, all the while becoming entrepreneurs in a country where they couldn't fluently speak the native language. I don't think I can ever express my gratitude and appreciation for them and their bravery to create the life they wanted.

In conclusion, this experience was a monumental moment in my abroad experience. Not only did I understand and come to appreciate my grandparents' journey and struggle, but I also learned something about myself. While I was angry and embarrassed at the pharmacy, I also look at how far I had come in a short amount of time I was in Italy. A month later, I was able to go into any store and ask, in Italian, what I was looking for. I could understand my total without having to look at a screen, ask for a bus ticket at the tabacchi, and navigate my way around the city without needing a map. I had come a long way since that day in the pharmacy. That experience gave me a newfound appreciation for how much I'd learn during my time abroad. In the end, those feelings of embarrassment turned into feelings of pride.