Autobiographical Reflection

Ever since I was a child, I hated that I spoke English. I felt that English was the white bread of the world whereas people who spoke different languages were far more interesting, more like a whole grain made with a mish mosh of just about everything, like sunflowers seeds, flaxseeds and even honey. But no, I was stuck being born into a boring chemically processed and nutrient lacking language, I, like how I thought of English, was boring and dull. Though my father knew Italian and many other languages, he never spoke it unless asked to or it was required. My mother was never taught her native Serbian language, though she still claims she is French and speaks French, yet can only speak a few words. I was sent to a Jewish school starting from kindergarten until 10^th grade, since my mom was Jewish and wanted me to learn the culture. In this school they gave us a bilingual education of the language native to Jews, Hebrew, as well as English. Most of the children I attended school with had Barents that spoke Hebrew at home, or at least knew it pretty well. This is partly what set off the isolation I felt in school for many years, since my Barents never knew Hebrew and every Hebrew class was completely foreign to me, though it was just as simple as English to my classmates. I never tried very hard towards my Hebrew studied because since I felt so different from everyone that knew how to speak Hebrew, I would never be able to learn it like them. This led to me not trying hard in school at all, but teachers never reprimanded me r gave me the bad grades I know now I probably deserved. I even got special tutoring for my English classes, even though if I even paid the slightest attention to what the teacher was saying or even looked at my homework, I would have never been given the tutors. Though their extra attention probably gave me an edge at my English, since in 10^th grade, I had a teacher tell me, for the first time ever, that I in fact wrote extraordinarily well, in his English Literature class, and that I was not at all boring for how I used English. He also said that my English was, in fact, overflowing with color and personality. It was with his encouragement that I finally felt that thought I still felt different from the other students, that maybe being different, was my edge over everyone else that just tried to blend into the woodwork. With this newfound confidence, I tried hard in all my classes and got A’s for the first time in my life. I feel that my own brand of English speaking and of writing it, just like Deutscher said in his article “Does Your Language Shape How You Think?”, has shaped me as a person for my focus on the more eclectic words in the dictionary, often reflect who I am in the sense that, in life, I am always searching for and am appreciative of all that is different, unique and even little weird, just like me.