Allow Me to Introduce Myself
My throat clenched tighter than Bruce Lee’s fists of fury yet my arms dangled weakly at my sides. I took slow, deep breaths to compose myself. I experienced added pressure from this surplus of oxygen, so in an attempt at calm I inspected my surroundings. All eyes were fixed on the teacher for the moment but soon their gazes will focus on me. In my mind I meticulously rehearse my response like I have done countless times.
Introductions have become an inextricable part of my life. As a result of my mother’s work taking her to countries far and wide, we have been relocated to a new country every few years. Born in the Philippines, I sincerely thought that I would spend the rest of my life there, yet contrary to that belief, we later migrated to Singapore, then Malaysia, then the United Kingdom, then Canada, and then the United States. As a “third culture kid”, I have been privileged to meet a variety of people with diverse backgrounds, however I always have to introduce myself to meet them.
I have attempted every possible introduction, from the ubiquitous, “Hi, my name is Julienne!” to the self-deprecating, “My name is Julienne but I am neither French nor a carrot”. Despite these approaches, I continue to be a student of the art of introduction. Some people dismiss the importance of first impressions but there is truth in the cliché: “First impressions are lasting.” When writing English essays, the introductory paragraph provides the foundation and thesis for the piece. In scientific writings, the opening abstract presents context on the research’s findings. Depending on a book’s blurb, the novel either becomes my companion for the next few days or a rejected affiliation that returns to gather dust. Hence, I have continued to craft and perfect the art of introduction.
Each time I land in a new country, the culture and locals introduce me to an assortment of unfamiliar experiences and feelings. When my family migrated for the first time, from the Philippines to Singapore, I remember my pure excitement and joy to live in a whole new country. While my parents were anxious about the logistics of the move, I boldly proclaimed, “This is the BEST place ever!” This proud declaration was made even though we had just landed ten minutes prior.
Though the importance of an introduction is obviously of utmost importance to me, I cannot disregard significance of what happens next, the relationship building. My first few months in Toronto were lonely and I had difficulty befriending my classmates. Eventually, I built a lovely group of friends. Soon, lonely lunchtimes were replaced with entertaining Friday night Escape Rooms and sleepovers. The early pain of being alone was replaced with elation of being surrounded with good friends. Despite a rough start, I can thankfully declare that my time in Toronto is my one of my favourite periods.
The life of an expatriate “third culture kid” is a fast-paced, dynamic one with strange dichotomy. Each time I begin at a new school and country, I have previously had to depart another country and leave another home and group of friends. Every exciting beginning sadly means the end of an incredible chapter. Whenever I reminisce, longing to return to the familiar places, I have to remind myself that one cannot go back, no matter how tempting it may be. I choose to look forward, excited for the countless new beginnings and new experiences.
The teacher concluded her opening remarks and asked if anyone is new to the online high school. I nervously switched on my webcam as I began to deliver a fresh, new introduction.
“Hi my name is Julienne. I am a senior and this will be both my first and last year. I’m excited to spend the year with you all.”