For Mom on Mother's Day-雅思/托福-新加坡狮城论坛

June Chua 
There's a little old Chinese lady who does cleaning at the office where I work occasionally. She limps a little, I think she's over 60. I see her all the time pushing her cart: bottles of pink handwashing goo on top and her mops placed in special holders at the end. Often, I'll say hello and she'll mumble something back – half English, half-something else. After I see her, I can't get her out of my mind. She breaks my heart – she reminds me of my mother. My mother came to Canada in 1976 with a teaching degree from Malaysia. She had been vice-principal at the international school my sisters and I were privileged to attend. My parents wanted their three girls to have a better chance in life because Malaysia had become increasingly intolerant towards Chinese people. So, they left their comfortable jobs and lives to begin a new adventure in Canada. Mom's credentials meant nothing here. To earn money for the family, she started off as a chambermaid at the Four Seasons hotel in Calgary. Sometimes, she worked in the kitchen, her hands raw-red from handling and washing food all day. She moved from one service job to another and at one point was cafeteria assistant at my sister's high school. It was a job she came to revile. The manager was dictatorial and mom complained she was forced to do the chores of the other workers. All the while, mom made hard-boiled eggs for us every morning, put hot chocolate into our thermos' and then lined us up during the winter and put Vaseline jelly on our faces to protect us from the bitter wind. For seven years, she went to night school to study accounting. She didn't pass the certification exams because they subjected the marks to a bell curve, only letting the very top in. But she still managed to get a job at an oil company doing finance. She was that good. To fill in the void left by my mother, my 10-year-old older sister took charge when we got home from school. For many years, I resented Therese; she made me do things I didn't like and forced me to eat cream of mushroom soup. I dumped ketchup and spaghetti sauce into the soup and wolfed it down as fast as I could. Man, did I hate her. Between the ages of 10 and 15, my sister was forced by circumstance to have my little sister and me in her care. Wherever she went, we went. I never heard her complain. The only time she got in trouble was when she tired of waiting for my little sister at school and came home alone. It was the middle of winter. Poor mum, she went into a tizzy. "You mean you left your sister at school? Her voice rose. You know what I have to do now? I just got home from 10 hours at work, now I have to go and find her." Mom stomped off. We felt the sting of disappointment. She found Esther three blocks away – stuck in a snowdrift, tears rolling down her face. Therese never did that again. In the years since, I have had many disagreements with my mother– over marks at school (a B-plus was never good enough), over my choice as a career ("when are you going to get your MBA?") and over my tendency to take off and travel. Like many people, I grew up angry with my parents for some of their choices and what I considered limitations in thinking. Now, when the old Chinese lady cleans my desk, I realize what it took for my mother to come here and leave all her dreams behind. I take the time to look up and say "thank you" to the cleaning lady. When I look into her eyes, I see everything. I see my mother's red hands and the care with which she put on the petroleum jelly. I see Therese stirring the soup. She now has two sons of her own. They're in good hands. I was raised by two mothers. They took care of me as best as they could and I love them very much.

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雅思/托福

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ontherun LV7

发表于 1-5-2006 13:28:00 | 显示全部楼层

I recently read June Chua's Mother's Day column and wanted to express how much I enjoyed it. My mother came to the United States from Spain and I remember how difficult it was for her to reconcile her expectations and culture with those outside our door. Although she was able to continue teaching and went on to earn a Ph.D in literature, she struggled to teach us her values and language while preparing us for life in an alien country. She also sacrificed her desire to return to Spain for our good. Ms. Chua's account of her mother's and sister's sacrifices to give her and her little sister a future in Canada resonated with me because I have seen how difficult it is for any foreigner to bring up her children in a different culture. The added burdens of poverty and barriers in the workplace increase the difficulty, and Ms. Chua's status as a writer and her gratitude are a testament to her mothers' efforts. Patricia Healey

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ontherun LV7

发表于 1-5-2006 13:30:00 | 显示全部楼层

I read June Chua's article and was deeply moved by her experiences. She really shared with an honesty and vivid recollection that resonated in me as an Asian American. My father's first job was a dish washer at a Holiday Inn in 1975. He was a pharmacist in Vietnam, a position he filled again here in the US. He is retired now, with many years of hard work behind him. But his most prized accomplishment and joy was to raise two boys (with a lot of help from my mom). Thank you for publishing Ms. Chua's article and please continue to have her words and thoughts published. Thomas Nguyen | Chicago

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ontherun LV7

发表于 1-5-2006 13:29:00 | 显示全部楼层

I'd like to let you know that I encourage you to develop more stories like "For Mom on Mother's Day" - from a different cultural perspective. As the first born son of a Korean immigrant family, I have witnessed the sweat and tears that my parents have endured to live a better life on the Western continent... away from family, a good life and in search of opportunity. Even with a degree in veterinary medicine and having graduated from the top University in Seoul, Korea, my father was forced to work on an assembly line piecing together football helmets in the United States. Because of his language barrier, he had to start off from the bottom of the working-class food chain. But nonetheless, he worked... no, struggled to put food on the table and to pursue ownership of his own veterinary clinic. He is now a vital part of a suburban neighborhood and a thriving community where he is known for helping to save the lives of cats and dogs that suffer severe illness. His efforts and kindness have helped to nurse hundreds of animals back to well-being. We need more representation of what life is like for people born of various cultures. As an Asian-American it is sad to see that there is not enough representation in the media. One story does make a difference. How are we to relate to each other if we don't know where the other person is coming from? I feel that stories like these will help to create cultural competency and more importantly, sympathy for others on the level of human compassion. Gene Kang

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ontherun LV7

发表于 2-5-2006 01:12:00 | 显示全部楼层

[em17][em17]

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红色企鹅 LV15

发表于 2-5-2006 20:17:00 | 显示全部楼层

I think, it is supposed to be for all the children, instead of mothers. As we have got used to accept what our mother are giving. Sometimes we take it for granted as well. Well, thats on me. I am not so sure about you guys there. Wish i am not the worst daughter in the world. Only at this time of every year, I am reminded to appreciate all the little sweet things she has done and been doing for me, with absolutely no complaints at all......
Hmm...Wish i could be there to give you a real big hug on the day, mom, or when we see next time. Oh~~~ It would be nice!
Happy mothers' Day, to all the mothers around the world!

[此贴子已经被作者于2006-5-2 20:59:14编辑过]