OK, do-overs. This is my first blog post, and I bet I'll want to call "do-over!" on it. But we'll see.
I went to grad school with a girl who was half Chinese. her name was Grace, and we thought she was snooty because she was a Creative Writing Major, which was the Sexy Major to Have. She wore lots of black and had those skinny black-rimmed glasses.
Grace and I both taught English 101 in grad school. I was, at the time, married to a man whose mother was Japanese, and when she was angry, her accented English became almost unintelligible. In kinder moments--which outnumbered the angry--she would offer me "shoo-limpu," my favorite seafood. "Shoo-lee," she would say, "would you like some shoo-limpu?"
Anyway, I had become skilled at imitating my mother-in-law's accent. One day, Grace asked me a teaching question. I opened our textbook and tried to find an answer for her, which I thought was ironic, given that she was sooooo much smarter than me. I couldn't find it, so I said, "Solly, Goo-lace!" The look on her face was so surprised and hurt and outraged. Although I was mortified, I giggled a little and told her I was just kidding and walked away. We avoided each other at social events and basically didn't speak again, but I imagined what she might be telling her Sexy Major cronies--that I was uncouth, racist, a bad teacher, tactless, and how could my students take me seriously when I walked around mocking accents like it was funny. "It wasn't even a Chinese accent," she might have said. "She couldn't even get that right."
My imagination has been paying for my faux pas for at least ten years now. I would definitely do that one over.
I went to grad school with a girl who was half Chinese. her name was Grace, and we thought she was snooty because she was a Creative Writing Major, which was the Sexy Major to Have. She wore lots of black and had those skinny black-rimmed glasses.
Grace and I both taught English 101 in grad school. I was, at the time, married to a man whose mother was Japanese, and when she was angry, her accented English became almost unintelligible. In kinder moments--which outnumbered the angry--she would offer me "shoo-limpu," my favorite seafood. "Shoo-lee," she would say, "would you like some shoo-limpu?"
Anyway, I had become skilled at imitating my mother-in-law's accent. One day, Grace asked me a teaching question. I opened our textbook and tried to find an answer for her, which I thought was ironic, given that she was sooooo much smarter than me. I couldn't find it, so I said, "Solly, Goo-lace!" The look on her face was so surprised and hurt and outraged. Although I was mortified, I giggled a little and told her I was just kidding and walked away. We avoided each other at social events and basically didn't speak again, but I imagined what she might be telling her Sexy Major cronies--that I was uncouth, racist, a bad teacher, tactless, and how could my students take me seriously when I walked around mocking accents like it was funny. "It wasn't even a Chinese accent," she might have said. "She couldn't even get that right."
My imagination has been paying for my faux pas for at least ten years now. I would definitely do that one over.
posted by Chere at
8:28 AM
1 Comments:
I cringed as I read your post, remembering all the insensitive comments I've made and yearned for do-overs. An older female relative was complaining one time about her son's romantic choices. Apparently, he dated strippers, who stayed over when she left town. (Her grown son still lived with them.) Later, she talked about wishing that her husband had been able to visit as well. Without even thinking, I said, "Hello! Why would he leave town? He's being entertained by strippers while you're gone!" She was not amused. I was mortified when I realized I offended her.
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Donna Sewell, at 8:22 PM
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