At the age of 6, I was diagnosed with a genetic eye disease that would chew up most of my vision. As a result, my mum acted quickly to take me out of China into Australia where I could have prospect of a future. But as you will read, the challenges for me growing up in a foreign country with a vision impairment took a big toll on me. Recalling my childhood memories was painful but also liberating.
My first days at school in Australia
After arriving at school on the first day, I soon noticed that there weren’t anyone in my class, and most likely in the entire school who could speak Chinese. The influx of migrants from China had not yet arrived in Melbourne in those days, especially not in the Northern suburbs. In addition, most migrants at that time from China had first moved to Australia by themselves, leaving their children back home in China, just as my auntie and uncle did.
I felt lost and overwhelmed as I tried to fit in at school. Everything was foreign to me; the language, the faces and the way classes were conducted. I couldn’t understand what anyone was saying, as my vocabulary was still limited to “I do not speak English”. A feeling of loneliness and not belonging gradually began to overwhelm me. During breaks between classes I felt lost as I wondered around the playground. Some well-meaning classmates tried to invite me to join them in their activities and games, but I couldn’t understand what they were doing and struggled to join in. Other students were nastier; some of them directed racist taunts at me, made fun of my Chinese appearance and laughed at what I was wearing.
After persisting for several weeks without any drastic improvement in my understanding, the teachers at the school finally approached my mum and encouraged her to enrol me an English language school. This was welcomed news to me as I was so tired of being an outcast and being picked on all the time.
The six months at language school was a refreshing change for me. I thoroughly enjoyed my time at language school. There, I met other people who struggled with the same language difficulties that I faced, and experienced the same challenges as I did, that of a new migrant. These six months flew by quickly. My English improved dramatically during this time, and I began to enjoy my new life in Australia. Nevertheless, the time came for my friends and I at the language school to part our ways. When the six months had passed, I returned back to the same school where my nightmare recommenced.
My eye sight in those early days had not yet deteriorated to the extent that it had later dropped to. During those days at primary school, my vision was still well enough to do most things that kids do. I enjoyed playing video games, watching cartoons, and playing sports without any severe hindrance from my eye condition. It was only when I began attending school that I realised the full impact of my deteriorating eye sight. I was put in the first row in class, and even in the first row I struggled to see the writing on the whiteboard. I often had to stand up and lean my body forward to see. And to add to my conspicuous position in the room, I was given a strange looking slanted board to place my readings on so that I didn’t have to bend down too far to read and write. At that time, I also wore a pair of ridiculously uncool glasses with a chain around the rear in case the glasses fell off. To this day, I have no idea why I wore the glasses, because they didn’t improve my vision one bit.
On my return back to the School, my English had improved significantly, but my treatment as an outcast did not cease. The racist remarks and treatment that I had received previously continued. In fact, this time the bullying had intensified.
All these factors contributed to my struggle for belonging. Bullying and isolation became a regular part of my childhood.
The physical impact of bullying for me was minimal, but it was the emotional trauma from bullying that really left its mark on my soul. Bullying tells you that you don’t belong. It destroys your self-confidence and questions your self-worth. I remember when the bullying was at its worst, there were times I would lie to my mum about feeling sick in order to avoid going to school. Yet, I still could not escape the bullying. My heart was captive to the hatred I had for those bullies, and I would replay in my mind what I would do to get revenge. It was not until many years later, that I was finally set free from the impact of bullying, when I chose to forgive and let go.
The pain of loneliness
My mum loved me very much, and did her best to provide me with all that I wanted. But she had to work two or at times three jobs to support our family financially. This meant that when I was experiencing bullying at school, there was often no one around at home for me to share my pain with.
I learnt at a very young age to suppress my emotions and to pretend that everything was OK. Over time, my heart was hardened and I became insensitive to my emotions. I remember when I was still in primary school, my grandma past away. Besides my parents, she was the person closest to me. Before her health had deteriorated, my grandma would wait for me at the train station every day to walk with me back home after school. But the day she passed away, I didn’t shed one single tear. Not because I wasn’t sad, but because I was so use to suppressing my emotions that I didn’t know how to respond to grief and sadness.
This wall I put up against the outside world affected my ability to connect with people and to develop friendships. I remember on occasions throughout high school, I would be around people, but yet feel completely isolated and lonely. I longed to connect with other students and to feel a sense of belonging, but I didn’t know how. On many occasions, I would go through an entire lunchtime without saying a word. I would simply hang around people, stare into empty space, but not utter one word.
In 2003, everything changed
Growing up, I hated anything to do with god or religion. I thought to myself, if God existed, why did he make me the way that I am. But in 2003, my best friend, Jason, started going to church and invited me to go with him. There I found what my heart had been longing for all along. Within several months, my life was radically changed. I had profound experiences of God and experienced unconditional love from the church family. I felt I had returned home.
When you experience God, everything changes.
For the first time in my life, I felt alive. I could finally experience the full scope of human emotions once again. I learnt to embrace my imperfections and allow people into the most vulnerable parts of my life. Finally I was able to experience deeper and more authentic connections with those around me, the connections that I had been longing for all my life.
Real transformation comes from within. It begins in the deepest part of your soul, and flows outward to permeate every part of your being. You are no longer the same. Your thoughts, your actions, all take on a new form.
Each one of us have our own flaws, imperfections and struggles that we wrestle with each day. We constantly face the voices around us and from within us questioning whether we are smart enough, beautiful enough, successful enough. Are we worthy of being loved? Our culture and media rewards people according to their strengths and achievements, and we are told that we need to have it together all the time. But it is only when we start embracing our imperfections and allow others to see who we truly are, that we are able to experience life in its fullest.
