Chapter 5

My new residence was around Sheppard and Kennedy. Unlike the previous Junior High, this area was surrounded by Asians. I went from a minority to majority. I was still ESL at my new school, Agincourt Junior High, but I was much more proficient at English now. In fact, in a few more months, I would graduate out of ESL and be left to fend for myself in a regular English class. This was a bit terrifying on my end. The reason was that my mom had always yelled at me after receiving my report card since I wouldn’t do well in any subject except for math. ESL at the very least buffered some of my grades because it was easier to do well in. But it was only one class, I would still do poorly in everything else because I couldn’t understand any questions asked of me. How math became the exception was because of 2 things. First, it didn’t have that much English involved and numbers are pretty universal. Second, Canadian math was easy at my elementary school compared to what I had learned in China. This is really saying something when you consider the fact that I rarely attended any school at all in China. It was mostly multiplication, addition and subtraction, something I could do in my sleep since I was forced to memorize the multiplication tables at some point. 

Another reason I was a bit terrified of switching into normal English class was that the ESL teachers have always helped my mom calm down at teacher parent conferences. My previous ESL teachers told her that my inability to do well was indeed because I couldn’t understand English. This was not earth shattering news since I told mom this and she herself knew it but hearing it from the ESL teacher still helped. Even so, this explanation only did so much. My mom would yell at me regardless of this reason. If you think that is unfair, just remember, mom had that “results-oriented” mindset. Only results mattered, she didn’t care how I got there and was unsympathetic to my situation. Furthermore, let’s not forget that the yelling was more for mom to vent frustration as well. These are some bad habits…Unfortunately, I do have to tell you that I kept these habits taught to me by mom. It’s hard to deny that I would sometimes have very little sympathy for shortcomings from anyone irrespective of their circumstances. This is especially true towards my mom. 

If the normal English teacher had been anyone else, I think I would have turned out worse than I am. But I luckily had a very easy-going homeroom teacher. His name was Mr. A. He had an optimistic belief that everyone deserves a second chance. So, when I failed to submit things assignments on time, not because I didn’t do the assignments but because I didn’t know when and where to submit them, he told me to just do some extra exercises and then submit them later. I tried to tell him that I had done all the exercises but simply couldn’t read the drop off bin names and therefore did not know the instructions for submitting things but I don’t think he understood what I said. 

Regardless, he didn’t yell, he didn’t belittle me, he just told me to get back to work and don’t mess up again. However, it came to be that I didn’t submit my assignment on time, he just wanted me to know that it was okay, and that I could redeem myself by not making the same mistake twice. I think this is fair. But for me, Oh boy did a fair judgment feel good. In comparison to mom, this middle aged white man was a saint. Aside from his judgment on homework, I got a different vibe from him too. I felt Mr. A was genuinely interested in how I was learning. After the first few weeks of missing assignments because I was confused about the drop box, I never missed another homework assignment. My English was only good at conversing back and forth when I left E and the 2 girls for Agincourt. Now, not only could I converse even better, reading and writing was starting to make sense as well. Before I knew it. I even started to think in English.

Learning English was a great thing. I can now communicate with everyone in school. I understood what was asked of me and did it very well. I never disobeyed any teachers intentionally nor by accident and was a good student. After School though, there wasn’t that much to do. Mom no longer had her after school program to manage and now I had an empty schedule right after school every day. I didn’t really do much outside of just practicing the cello. 

I kept my cello from my previous residence and kept it going. The same cello teacher would come to my home and teach me privately once a week for about an hour. I’m not sure whose idea it was to keep this hobby going but I really don’t think it was mine. I didn’t like practicing anymore. Since I was no longer trying to impress the girls, practicing didn’t make sense. To be honest, my mom’s yelling was the only thing that kept me going. She was having some sunk cost feelings towards this cello. I think her mindset was that she had already paid for the cello and can’t return it, so why not keep the hobby going to make her money’s worth. All the while, she was shoving more money at the problem by continuing to pay for my private cello lessons.

When year 2 at Agincourt came around and I had entered grade 5, our school started a lunchtime music program. It was a public school so the budget for the music program was quite small but they did manage to muster enough money to afford some cheap string instruments. Our class formed a small orchestra and tried to learn some string songs here and there. We did surprisingly decent for a bunch of 5th graders, a fact I attribute to most of us being Asian meaning a huge chunk of the class were already taking piano lessons and at least knew a thing or two about reading sheet music. I played the cello already and therefore, did well enough to impress the teacher running the program. This music teacher was so impressed with me she referred me to join the district public school junior orchestra. I was shocked because all this time I had only been yelled at for my poor learning of the cello by mom. It never occurred to me that I was actually playing the instrument well. Regardless, after the referral went through, I got an invitation to play in a slightly more talented orchestra composed of a bunch of other students from other schools who had picked up a string instrument earlier in life. These practices occurred outside of school time and required me to go downtown.

My mom brought me to all the rehearsals downtown and I would later go on to perform with this district-wide and specially recruited orchestra for a small concert. Our orchestra was full of students in the 5th or 6th grade and we definitely performed much better than my school. As good an experience as this was though, if I’m being honest, the concert was not that memorable. What was memorable was that for me, it felt like I was finally getting some recognition and positive reinforcement for playing music. Even if it was just in the form of a referral from a part time elementary school music teacher. It was enough for me to though. Starved of attention and compliments and now having something for it, I started to like the cello a bit more. I even started to enjoy learning it a bit more. 

Outside of music and elementary school, my mom also signed me up for some recreational activities. I am unclear about the details but here’s how I think that went down. I had recently gotten my Canadian Citizenship and along with my passport, I also got a welcoming package given to immigrants. The package included some maps, some brochures, some random other stuff. The very last thing in the package was a catalog for activities that were offered by Toronto Parks and Recreation. This was the program catalog for the community centers and included lessons for swimming, badminton, and all sorts of other sporting activities. My welcoming package said that all new citizens get a few hundred dollars of credits which could be used to register into some select programs for free. 

My mom decided to cash in on this and signed me up for everything that she could. She was trying to get every last drop of value out of those and I didn’t blame her for it. Afterall, those credits had expiration dates. The one class that stood out to me was swimming. I had learnt about swimming when I was in China but never truly worked hard at it. When I got to swimming class with Toronto Parks and Recreation, I surprisingly found that I had another thing I was good at. I forgot the exact timeline but by the time my credits were used up, I had finished my Bronze Star. This Bronze Star was one of three classes that were needed to be eligible to do my NLS or what is known as the National LIfeguard Certification (yes I know it’s supposed to be NLC but everyone called it NLS, don’t ask me why). Having finished that in grade 6, I was on a very good trajectory to becoming a lifeguard. This gave me a lot of confidence. Moreso, this could lead into something that gives money. Lifeguarding would be a paying job. This gave me some solace that I may be able to have a bit of income and ease the burden on mom soon. 

The last and probably most important change in my life at this point was I had gotten new friends. Now that I was in the regular classes and had proficient language skills in English, I realized that making friends wasn’t all that hard. Just play around with some kids and try not to be a dick. I quickly found companionship with “D” and “C”, two friends who I would spent all my recesses with. D and C were two kids who both lived very close to me and were from Mandarin speaking families. We also had very similar interests. We’d play “fence-ball” every chance we got at recess and when not in school, we all dabbled into YuGiOh and Beyblade. Having friends was great. We’d fight, we’d laugh, we’d joke and before you know it, we’d grow up. It’s hard to say what really happened since this was before the age of information where smartphones became a thing. But that kind of adds to the allure of the period. When you think back on it, you’ll always have nostalgia glasses on. I’m not sure what exactly we were always doing but in truth, it didn’t really matter what you were doing. As long as you were with your buds and hanging out, it was a good time. The key point is simply being present. A lesson I wished my dad would have considered a bit more.

While I was getting by and doing much better, my mom was still struggling. Despite the financial stability from renting our home out, she couldn’t sit still. That was too boring. She wanted to have a proper income and therefore, started to look around for a new career. She worked at a flower shop because she liked flowers but eventually found that too boring as well. She then tried to get licensed as a dental hygienist simply because she was told they earn a decent living but nothing really stuck. Eventually, she would fall back into her strengths and would try her best at teaching Chinese. This time, she was using her PhD to teach middle school and highschool students chinese at various tutorial schools near our region. While it is still not the university level she was accustomed to, it was still something. At the very least, this was an upgrade from being the coordinator of an afterschool program. It was at least in the realm of teaching afterall. 

The tutoring got better and eventually, she decided to go all in on this career path. In another 2 years, my mom would officially be registered with the Toronto District School Board as a teacher. As she got officially registered, I was finishing elementary school and was about to graduate into middle school. 

I look back fondly now on my elementary school days. Before Agincourt elementary school, it seems I was almost always neglected. When I wasn’t busy being neglected, I was being yelled at for being a failure. It seems I had two options, to be forgotten or to be recognized as a defect. At this school, I was given the first experience of being seen by a teacher who gave me a referral to an orchestra for being exceptional. It may have been a small gesture and led to a more-cute-than-prestigious concert, but it made me think that maybe I’m not all the things my mom claims I am. I wasn’t lazy or delinquent, I was just trying my best as a 10 year old. I don’t think I recall the name of that music teacher, but if by some rare chance you, the reader, once worked at Agincourt Junior High as a lunch time music teacher, just know that you gave me one of the first positive experiences of my life. It’s cliche to say that teachers that don’t give up on students and don’t ignore them are life changers but I truly believe it. I thought the world of my teachers as I graduated from Agincourt junior. Mr. A was just and kind and Ms. Unnamed music teacher was a nice example of seeing the good in students and not neglecting their talents.

I wish I could tell you that all the teachers in the future chapters would be great but that wouldn’t be true. The world is a large place and there will always be those who are good and those who aren’t. If you keep reading, you meet these bad teachers as I met them. The first one would actually present himself in middle school.