Cover Letter

The written language and literacy narrative prompt challenged me to pick a singular moment in my life where language was the “main character” of the story. Language can be seen as a means to communicate, but how difficult or easy it is to utilize language depends on the individual and the experiences they undergo/have undergone. Some may see language as a binder, where we educate each other with language on various topics.  Others may see language as the barrier, where each difference in language weakens bonds between others.  Sometimes, differences in language come without a choice. Nonetheless, an individual’s language(s) is their story.  It is their core identity, one which they cannot control.  But language, something out of a person’s control, can often have control over one’s experiences throughout life. Thus, this assignment allowed me to reflect on how much control language can/cannot have on my life/my family’s life, and how it makes me feel. 

To begin writing my language and literacy narrative, I took some time to brainstorm my experiences with language playing a major role.  This was easier said than done, as there have been happy, sad times, and “indifferent” times where language was a defining moment in my life.  Many drafts were written where I wrote about inequality faced by myself and family members due to English not being our native language.  Through this, I realized how negatively I perceived my inability to speak “perfect” English, where it was always an obstacle.  After our class discussions and the pattern, I saw with language being a barrier, I wanted to tell a story about language differences not necessarily being bad. I recalled a story my mother always used to tell me about my great grandmother, the “yes no” story.  This is a story where language differences didn’t stop my great grandmother from doing what she loved (sewing), but where the difference pushed her to communicate in unfamiliar ways.  My mother always narrated this story in Urdu, so I was pushed to translate the story as I was writing it (practicing my language connection skills). After rereading my first draft, I also realized that some cultural terms and the context of my story may be unfamiliar to my classmates, the target audience.  I resorted to adding in an “explanation” paragraph after each snippet of the story to make it clearer to follow. I was unsure whether the structure of my narrative would be clear or not, due to switching between story and explanation, but the essay mind mapping activity clarified that my structure did make sense. To really capture my audience’s attention, I put myself in my great grandma’s shoes to descriptively write about what emotions she must have felt in her new home of Chennai.  This was a slight risk I took as I could’ve written about a moment in my life (first person) to make describing the emotions felt easier. 

To connect my story to the “bigger picture” of languages in society, I tapped into the points I picked up from my English class’s discussions. The larger trend in society my essay was addressing was the fact that many people often don’t have a choice when it comes to a change in language.  In my great grandmother’s case, she had to move out of her home for her safety, which resulted in her changing her language.  Similarly, refugees/immigrants leave their homes every day for a “better life”, but this new life presents a whole new set of challenges to these people.  Of course, challenges will always be present, but it is how we learn and adapt to the challenges that define us. My goal when writing this narrative was to set an example for myself and others who may see being “different” as an embarrassment, to see being “different” as an asset.  

Journey of a Seamstress

The vibrant red patterned cloth with sleek golden embroidered cuffs was draped over the small wooden chair. The satisfied expression of her new neighbor filled my great grandmother with a sense of relief as she nervously stood beside her prized creation, a salwar kameez (Indian dress). My great grandmother had an exceptionally good hand when it came to tailoring clothes yet she was agitated when it came to sewing a dress for her neighbor. Not long before this encounter, she had been forced to migrate from the North of India to Chennai in South India because of riots due to religious discrimination. She had gained a new identity as a South Indian woman, but this identity wasn’t established with ease.

The neighbor knocked on the door as my grandmother was unpacking. She missed her cats, her room, and her friends from home in North India. “Who could it be?” She knew no one in the city except her uncle. She folded her last shirt and headed towards the door. There stood a lady with soft dark features, long hair, and many clothes in her hand. She smiled at my grandma as she blurted out some unfamiliar words, “vanakkam,” hello in Tamil. Recalling what her uncle said to do if someone approached her, my grandmother pointed to her mouth and shook her hands to indicate that she didn’t speak the local language.

Unbothered by my great grandmother’s gesture, the neighbor continued speaking and pointing to the array of clothes in her hands. She put them together and then apart and then pointed at the dress she was wearing. “Dress?”  My great grandmother took a chance and quickly ran to her sewing kit, the only thing she packed from her home along with a few shirts . She brought it to the door and the lady nodded her head vigorously. “Ama,” yes in Tamil. “Ama.” Yes. My great grandmother noted this. Did this lady want her to make a dress? How did this lady know my grandmother’s expertise? Word traveled fast in Indian towns. Everyone knew each other, the details about every family, and who was who’s relative. My great uncle had moved to Chennai a few years earlier and talked about his niece with his friends. The neighbor who arrived at my great grandma’s new apartment even knew her name, Choti. She forgot to consider the fact that Choti didn’t speak Tamil while she didn’t speak Urdu. Although my grandmother did not know the local language of Tamil, she could work as a seamstress. Through word of mouth, people heard about her sewing talents and came with their garments.

India is a land of cultural diversity, with more than 100 languages, 22 of which officially in the Indian constitution. A simple journey through state borders introduces the traveler to different cultures, with changes in language as well. My great uncle knew both Tamil and Urdu, becoming a translator for Choti and her new customer, his neighbor. My great uncle explained to my great grandma in Urdu that the neighbor was granny ma, the landowner’s wife. My grandma asked my uncle to confirm that she wanted her to sew suits for her. To my great grandma’s delight, she did! MY great uncle established a time for the woman to come again, knowing that he would have to act as translator.  “Ama, Illai, Gi, Ama, Nay– yes, no, yes, yes, no,” yes and no in Tamil and Urdu. These were the only words exchanged for five hours as my great grandmother sewed the cloth and her new neighbor attentively observed.  Granny ma pointed to a cloth, and my great grandmother pointed to a hemming spot on the cloth. The two women either shook or nodded their heads. Only a few minutes later, they were able to teach each other how to say yes and no in both of their mother tongues.  Despite their different backgrounds, the women were able to create something ravishing, an Indian dress, tailored by my great grandma and designed by her new neighbor.  Of course, my great grandma was still timid when it came to revealing the finished product. After all, she had just moved here and couldn’t even express half of what she felt to this new lady. 

Writing this narrative, I ask myself whether we really need language to communicate. Based on what my great grandmother experienced, I can say that, yes, language is essential to communicate, if we extend the definition of language to body language, expression, written language, and sign language.  My great grandmother’s first commission in South India required the use of facial expressions to get ideas across, bodily gestures, and some spoken language.  Using her profession, my great grandmother did not let the weakness of not knowing a local language deter her. The more customers she had, the more she was able to learn the local language.  Now, her descendants, myself included, speak Tamil as well as Urdu.