When I decided to go to the United States, my friends were really envious of me. They called the United States ‘Dream Land’, and so did I. Yes, I came here to make my dreams come true. I was so excited. When I boarded the airplane, my heart was beating faster and faster. And when I got off in the San Francisco International Airport, everything looked different from my country. Everything was beautiful. I admired the buildings, the people, I even thought that the sky here was so beautiful that home could not compare. Back home I hated it when it rains but here I thought of rainy days as romantic. The wind here was as cool as strawberry ice cream. I just loved everything in this ‘Dream Land’. This was paradise to me, where I thought everyone is an angel.
Little did I know that this illusion would soon be over, and this is the story of how my ‘Dream Land’ crumbled before my very eyes.
Everything started when I decided I needed a car. Back home, I never felt the inconvenience of not having a car. I could go almost everywhere by foot and if I had to go somewhere far the bus can be relied on. However, ‘Dream land’ is huge; I could not go to market without a car. Everything was far from my place and the buses never came on time, so I spend hours on the road to get to where I need to go. That’s why I decided to buy a car. My parents however did not understand my situation. My father thought I envied friends who have cars, but eventually he agreed and said that if I can get a license he will buy me a car.
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My teacher gave me driver’s hand book to study and wrote a letter for the DMV to explain that I am an international student and that I needed assistance to get my driver’s license. During that time I was as student in the English as a Second Language center at Sac State. My English was not good. I had difficulty expressing myself in English. I could understand what they are saying but I could not give a reply since it was so hard for me to say what I am thinking. That’s why my teacher wanted the DMV officer to read her letter.
When I went to DMV, I had to wait an hour and half until my number was called even if I had a reservation. An hour and a half was really a long time to wait, but that was still okay with me. My frustration started right after that. I went to the window which has my number on the screen. There was old white lady. She looked very blunt and never smiled. I said, “Hi, um,, I want to take a test for the driver’s license.” But, she did not understand what I said. She repeatedly said “Excuse me, what? What?” I was losing my confidence. Americans would never understand, how scary it is for a foreigner when they say ‘What?’ in a condescending if not antagonizing way. Any way, when she finally understood me, I showed her my documents, including my passport, I-20 and the letter that my teacher wrote.
The blunt old white lady said to me. ‘No, you can not take a test because you do not have social security number.’ I politely explained to her that I could not understand because international students can not get social security number, and some of my friends took test just a day before, but she said ‘why are you talking about your friends? I do not care about them. The problem is that you do not have social security number.’ I felt that she was annoyed and did not want to listen to my poor English.
So, finally I asked her to read the letter. However, she did not read it and said ‘Sac State is not my government.’ I was speechless with amazement, and I could not accept what she said. When I tried to say something, she said ‘why are you still here? If you can not follow American law, go back to your country.’ She was really rude. And the experience was so frustrating for me. That was the day I realized that this place is not the ‘Dream Land’ I thought it to be. The angel has turned into a scary antagonizing monster, whom I hate.
As I walked to the bus stop I could not stop my tears from falling and soon I was crying so hard. It was a very painful experience for me. I was so humiliated by the way the rude white lady who does not know what is legal. I hated her. I hated myself for not being able to express my thoughts in English. And I hated this ‘Dream land’ where they do not give social security number to international students, and want to us pay ten times expensive tuition fee than that paid by their citizens.
That was the day I understood what racism means. I am an Asian who could not speak English well, so the white lady did not listen to me. I thought to myself, this not ‘Dream land’ after all, the old lady at the DMV made me realize just that and she did it in a really painful manner.
I went to the mall to meet my friend and tell this story because if I did not tell this story that day, I think I would have died. We sat at the food court, and spoke in Korean. I felt so relieved that I could speak in my mother tongue and be understood by my friend.
Suddenly, an old white man came to us. He asked us, ‘What language are you guys talking with?’ We said, ‘Korean’. We thought he was interested in listening to another language. However, it was another illusion. He explained that we have to speak only in English in the ‘Dream land.’ We were so offended by what he said but what offended us more and made us very angry were his last words to us. He said ‘Go to the restroom and wash your mouths.’ I could not believe he was insulting us because we did not speak in English.
From that day, ‘Dream land’ is not dream land to me any more. And I realize how wrong I was to think that this is ‘Dream Land”. There is no dream land and no angels. It was really a sad experience for me to be treated unfairly because of my race and poor English.
From then on, I studied English very hard until I could speak very well. Nowadays, when I see people who can not speak English well at the mall or on the road, I try my best to help them and I am always careful not to say anything that would ruin their confidence because I do not want to break their dreams like the old white lady did to me. If they still think this is ‘Dream Land’ I do not want to ruin it for them.
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The day I went to the Department of Motor Vehicles. (2017, May 09). Retrieved from https://phdessay.com/the-day-i-went-to-the-department-of-motor-vehicles/
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