
Tending to My Imperfectly Perfect English(es)
This essay is part of Transpacific Literary Project’s monthly column, with art by Juyon Lee.
I was wary, and weary, when my American colleague asked me what my first language was. I have dreaded the question ever since I moved to Berlin.
I tried to weasel out of answering, and debated furiously with myself whether I should just say “Chinese,” since he had already asked if I was Chinese when he saw I was a lover of rice and a user of chopsticks. I am unabashedly that, except that I wanted s...
I was wary, and weary, when my American colleague asked me what my first language was. I have dreaded the question ever since I moved to Berlin.
I tried to weasel out of answering, and debated furiously with myself whether I should just say “Chinese,” since he had already asked if I was Chinese when he saw I was a lover of rice and a user of chopsticks. I am unabashedly that, except that I wanted s...