Every Sunday, after church, we eat a quick lunch and out we go. I leave loads of laundry to be folded, dirty dishes in the sink, and a husband I’d love to sit and talk to on a lazy Sunday afternoon. And, I take Ashlyn to Chinese school at MLCCC.
I sit behind her for 2 hours and listen to words I do not understand and then walk her down the hall to watch for another hour as she giggles along with 8 dark-haired beauties her age as they learn fan dancing and other Chinese traditional dances.
So, why do I do it week in and week out?
She wanted to.
We waited to bring our daughter home for a long time (3 years to be exact). During that time, Ashlyn fell in love with all things Chinese. Soon after we were home with her new sister, Ashlyn (age 6 at the time), asked me if she could learn Chinese.
Know what I said?
“I don’t think so.” (I know, mother of the year) I knew it would be hard. I thought it would be expensive. I knew it would mean a big commitment–frankly, a commitment for me that I didn’t want to make.
But, she didn’t let up.
“You know, you might be the only one there who isn’t Chinese.”
Didn’t matter. She wanted to do it. So, eventually, I caved. And, our Sundays changed.
And, in so doing, I found that this was where we were supposed to be. For Ashlyn. For our family.
When we walk through those doors every Sunday afternoon, we are reminded of a new community we now live in, one that looks different from us and speaks different from us, but one that has welcomed us in.
And, I’ve learned that as much as our Chinese daughter is now American, we’ve also all become just a little bit Chinese. And, I’m loving my Chinese-ness.
Now, I’m one of those adoptive parents who is signing her child up early for language classes. Lydia will be 3 this March. And, as soon as her afternoon nap schedule is done (no need to haste the day!), she’ll be a part of the preschool program there. Maybe she’ll learn a few words, phrases, and a song or two. But, more importantly, she’ll know too that she’s a part of this community. And, I know that her knowing that and building relationships here is way more significant for her cultural identity formation than all the festivals we could attend (like the one pictured here at Villanova University this past week), a dragon cake every year, and a library of wonderful children’s books (want proof?).
Laundry and dishes can wait. Sunday afternoons are for community.
