This article was submitted by Stacey Lau, a graduate student at Chapman University, and the granddaughter of Sui Ching Lau.
One of my greatest insecurities in life is my inability to speak Chinese. If fluency is a ladder, the highest I’ve ever climbed is, at best, the second rung.
As the youngest in my family, born to parents who immigrated to the U.S. when they were young, English was, and still is, the default language at home. There was no urgency to speak Cantonese; everyone I knew and interacted with spoke English. Well, except my grandparents.
Kid Speak
When I was a child, it wasn’t a big deal. I knew how to tell MaMa and YeYe that I was fully satisfied after a meal (我飽喇! Translation No. 1 below) I could tell their friends my Chinese name (美意, Translation No. 2) and how old I was.
I could name all the dishes I wanted at dim sum (叉燒包, Translation No. 3, usually). Not much else was expected of me, and I spent most of my time at family gatherings playing with my cousins. Besides, I was easily embarrassed and didn’t like doing things I wasn’t good at, including mispronouncing words. I quickly became fluent in the phrase: “我識聽唔識講” ( Translation No. 4).
YeYe passed away when I was in elementary school. In the time after, my family began spending more time with MaMa to keep her company. We would visit her on a weekly basis for dinner or go out to eat. As the night wore on, conversation would fade from English to Chinese. Although I couldn’t understand much, I would sit contentedly, piecing together the conversation from familiar words and gestures, sometimes learning new phrases, too. 識聽唔識講 (Translation No. 4) became a way of life.
Chinese Classes
In high school, I elected to take Mandarin classes in an attempt to build confidence in speaking. Learning sentence structure helped tremendously in understanding more at the weekly dinners, and I discovered that many words had similar pronunciations between Mandarin and Cantonese. MaMa would proclaim to the waiters and old friends around town that I spoke Mandarin. Hearing her words was bittersweet: while it felt good to make her proud, it was just another language she didn’t understand.
I wish so strongly that I could 識講 (Translation No. 5). Occasionally, MaMa expresses frustration about our language barrier. I’ve always felt a little ashamed that, for all my academic achievements, Cantonese has always eluded me. It’s never managed to be a top priority, and for that, I feel guilty. Perhaps MaMa feels the same way about English. At 101, she’s lived in the United States for almost half her life.
What If
I have a recurring dream where we find out her inability to speak English was all a ruse, and she was fluent all along, biding her time until the time was right to surprise us (if you heard her backseat driving, you would also find this plausible).
Still, there are a few favorites in the repertoire of one-sided conversations my grandma has with me. I often accompany my dad on taking her to hair appointments and grocery runs. Whenever we pick her up, she appears faithfully dressed in a brightly colored coat and long slacks, no matter the season.
“It’s so cold!” she’ll exclaim in Cantonese, settling into the back seat next to me. “Guess how many layers I’m wearing.”
After pausing to let me spurt out a number, she proceeds to tell me at least two layers more than I could imagine donning, given the weather, and naming them as proof.
An astonished “咁多!” (Translation No. 6) is always my reply, but there’s so much more I want to say.
If Only
I want to tell her lots of things: that I’m thankful for the sacrifices she made so that our family could thrive in America; that I enjoy spending time with her; that Jesus loves her.
I might never learn enough phrases to say all that. Instead, I rely on my actions to communicate: I do my best in school and take her out to eat when I get a new job; I still accompany her on errands when I can; I pray for her all the time. In turn, she communicates her love for me by making extra glass noodles when I’m over for dinner, sending my dad home from dim sum with food for me when I’m absent, and buying me snacks on our grocery runs.
Speaking, Understanding
Like many past Gom Benn scholarship recipients have said in their essays, navigating dual cultural identities as a Chinese American presents unique challenges. Through tradition, technology, and a vibrant immigrant community, I remain rooted in my Chinese heritage while living in America.
All things considered, speaking Chinese is just one facet (albeit a very large one) of this. MaMa’s old age reminds me that there’s lots of life left to live– there’s no reason to write off learning to speak. Perhaps one day I’ll find myself a few rungs higher on the language ladder, one step closer to saying, “我識聽我 識講” (Translation No. 4).
TRANSLATIONS
(Chinese to English, with Cantonese pronunciation in Jyutping romanization in parentheses).
- 我飽喇 (ngo5 baau1 laa3) – I’m full
- 美意 (mei5ji3)
- 叉燒包 (caa1 siu1 baau1) – BBQ pork bun
- 我識聽唔識講 (ngo5 sik1 ting1 m4 sik1 gong2) – I can understand, but I can’t speak
- 識講 (sik1 gong2) Can speak
- 咁多 (gam3 do1) – So much
Stacey Lau was presented the 2025 Ron Chin Memorial Scholarship for the top graduate student. She is studying to be a food product development scientist at Chapman University. Her interests include volleyball, piano, and going to the park.
