By Jillian Suprenant
The most important thing this trip has taught me so far is to appreciate the little things.
At first, when I arrived in China, I cursed my inability to speak and understand Chinese. Now, as time has progressed, I feel extremely blessed to have experienced this trip like a newborn, inundated with unfamiliar sounds, smells, and sights every day.
Being in an environment where I cannot fully understand everything that is happening has forced me to take a step back from the bigger picture and focus on the small things. It is in these details that I have found the most joy and have made the most memories.
It is the smile of my host mother when I congratulate her on saying a new English word correctly. It is the urging of Jessie to put on a pair of ballet slippers so that we can match and dance together. It is sigh of relief when I affirm Sunny’s opinion on a dress that she wants to buy. It is the laughter from my host father when I can’t stop cooing over Sunny’s precious baby pictures.
By focusing on the little things, I have learned more about myself. I have learned that I love working and spending time with little children. I’ve learned that my mood is highly influenced by the people I am surrounded by. I’ve learned that I’m far more adventurous with food than I ever expected myself to be. I’ve learned that I detest disorder and lack of communication, but I’ve also learned that those two things are what motivate me to do better and build relationships with others.
Unfortunately, my time teaching English at No. 9 has come to an end. Looking back on all the classes, I realize again that it is not the big picture I remember; I don’t remember the material I taught or the success of the classes. I do, however, remember those small moments: the numerous inside jokes shared with Bryant during class, the happy giggles from my students when I remember their names or wish them good luck on an upcoming test, the thought-provoking conversations with students about the differences between the Chinese and American education systems or the debate about gun laws. These smaller moments have taught me more about my students than their participation during English class has. I know that impish Jerry’s mischievousness occurs out of a desire to make me laugh. I know that jokester Jacky has a serious side when it comes to education and his dreams. I know that quiet Mia shows her love for English not by speaking, but by listening. I know that self-assured Dragon becomes insecure when he has to admit that he doesn’t know something. I know sweet Annie is self-conscious about her English abilities, but shows her appreciation for us through after-class interactions and surprise gifts.
The little things are what I will remember most about Zhuhai, and probably what I will remember more than The Great Wall and the Terracotta Soldiers that I will visit next week. I constantly find myself taking mental screenshots of these moments and storing them in my memory and heart. I never want to forget Sunny and me crying together at the conclusion of the movie, Wonder. I never want to forget Jessie insisting that I hold her hand whenever we go out together as a family. I never want to forget Sunny whispering jokes about my teammates to me during group lunches. I never want to forget the sparkle in my students’ eyes when I high-five them after a job well done. I never want to forget Sunny’s hysterical “choice disorder” (indecisiveness) when it comes to choosing activities for us to do together. I never want to forget the pure joy in our hearing-impaired friends at the School for Children with Special Needs when my teammates and I are able to sign “I like you” to them.
This trip has taught me that these memories are the most important because they are based on human connection, not materialistic achievements.
It is so easy to lose sight of these little things. But without the little things, there is no bigger picture, and more importantly, no joy.