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Language is a way to communicate with each other. We started to learn language when we were born. However, people are used to speaking their native language, so immigrants are having many problems between the first generation and the second generation because they don't have the same native language. Also, the second generation is losing their identity. Especially in America, there are many immigrants that came from different countries to succeed in the States. Because they suffer in lots of areas such as getting a job and trying to speak English, they want their children to speak English, not only at school, but also at home in order to be more successful. Because of this situation, their children are losing their ethnic identity and, even more, they are ignoring their parents whose English is not very good.
For example, my aunt, who has been living in Chicago for fifteen years, has three children and they were all born in the States. The eighteen year old daughter speaks English as a native language and she speaks Korean very well too. She has no problems talking with her parents, but she still doesn't understand Korean jokes, and there are sometimes misunderstandings. The second daughter is fourteen years old, and she doesn't want to speak Korean. My aunt often gets upset with her because she is very Americanized and they cannot understand each other. Even when my aunt punishes her, this daughter does not understand what my aunt is talking about. I felt sympathy for my aunt whenever my fourteen year old cousin said, "Mom, what is your problem?" The third child is a twelve year old son. He speaks English to his parents and my aunt speaks Korean to him as she does to the second daughter. He also has a problem communicating with his parents. My aunt is trying to teach him to speak both languages very well, but it is very hard for him because he speaks English all day and does not understand why he should learn to speak Korean.
I think most immigrants are trying to preserve their native language in their new country, but this doesn't help very much in getting a good job. My aunt didn't teach Korean to her children in order to help them succeed in the U.S.; she did so, hopefully, to help them establish a Korean identity. Though the second generation is born in the new country, they often get confused about their identity because they look different from others, and also, if they visit their parent's country, they will probably feel different from other people there too. My cousins told me that when they visited Korea a few years ago, they felt different from other Koreans. They could even feel it just strolling around the street because they wore different clothes and walked differently.
We must realize that language is important and valuable for many reasons. Immigrants should make an effort not to be ignored by their children and to make their children understand their heritage by teaching them the parents' language. This is very important, not only for the harmony of the family, but also in helping the second generation establish their identity.
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I Will Never Get My Innocence Back Sharon DeMayo
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Have you ever thought that within a single afternoon you could lose your sense of security? Have you ever taken into consideration changing completely the way you look at the world around you? That happened to me, and I'm still paying for the consequences of somebody else's action. The feeling of security and serenity, that everyone should have, is often taken away with brutality for the price of a few dollars. Unfortunately, this happens over and over throughout the world, and it is hard for the victims of criminal actions to recover from their deep wounds.
It was just a day like any other, if possible, even better because it was a Saturday, the end of the working week, and one of the first nice and sunny days of Rome's spring. My best friend and I were in the shop that she owns. It was the middle of the afternoon; we were both pretty happy and making plans for the weekend, and the atmosphere was extremely relaxed, almost lazy. Suddenly a man entered in the shop. We knew, somehow, that he didn't look like one of our usual customers, but we welcomed him politely anyway. Without any hesitation he pulled something out of his coat that we did not recognize immediately, but when he ordered us to go into the back with him, there was no doubt that this "something" was a gun. We were so scared that we could barely understand what was going on. My heart was beating so franticly, that I thought everyone could hear it. Suddenly, while watching the entire scene in astonishment, a shiver ran down my spine. I had that kind of feeling like when you are not sure if you're dreaming or not. In the beginning, I thought it was a stupid joke by a similarly stupid friend of ours, but it took me half a second to realize that it was cruel reality. I still shudder at the thought of it. He seemed to me so calm and so used to this kind of action. "Don't you dare say a single word and come with me in the storage" he said. It was almost a whisper, a few simple words uttered nastily. He gave us precise orders and while doing this, he offended us and kept reminding us that he could shoot at any time. He looked for the money in the register, from our wallets, then he asked for our jewelry and we gave him all he wanted. He was imperturbable while bringing his "job" to conclusion. At that point, he was supposed to leave, instead, he seemed not to have any intention to do so. Suddenly I remember his face becoming soaked in sweat. My friend and I had no chance to talk to each other and exchange our thoughts, but I'm sure we had the same horrible feeling. Fortunately, after a few interminable minutes he left.
You can never know where you can feel safe; growing up you learn that gradually. When you are a child, you feel safe with your parents in your home or wherever you are not alone. Then you begin to understand the news and you learn that horrible things are happening "out there", but you still keep thinking that those events are just other people's worries, not yours. Terrible things happen only to the people you read about in the newspaper, but you will soon start to explore the world on your own and little, insignificant, nasty things begin to happen to you too. You see a car accident, you look at ambulances, someone is mean to you and, somehow, you know that this is as the world goes. Then your conscience starts to make you realize that you are a person like any other. So why couldn't bad things happen to you? You are afraid that something could happen and, depending on your optimistic or pessimistic mood, you can deal or not with this thought.
I think that from the precise moment the guy walked out of the shop, I completely changed my way of relating to the world. Someone could say that I am exaggerating, and maybe they are right, but this is how I feel. I always look around to see which kinds of people are possibly following me. Now I usually double-check everything: if I've locked myself in the car or in the house. I think about how to dress if I have to go out alone or in a particular part of the town; I am always careful not to wear any jewelry. Whenever an unknown guy is getting too close or is trying to get information from me, I tighten up. I know that it is wrong, that not everyone is looking to attack me again. After all, I consider myself lucky, since nothing really bad happened to me or to my friend, but what affects me is the thought of what could have happened. We could have died or he could have beaten or raped us! I know that I have to work on it because since that day I haven't felt safe anymore, What I don't know is where to start. Now I am sure only of one fact, that I blame this guy, not for having taken my jewelry, but for having deprived me of my innocence.
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