高英unit2.pptxVIP

By Elizabeth Wong ; 1 Its still there, the Chinese school on Yale Street where my brother and I used to go. Despite the new coat of paint and the high wire fence, the school I knew 10 years ago remains remarkably, stoically the same. Part I： Para. 1 2 Every day at 5 P.M., instead of playing with our fourth and fifth grade friends or sneaking out to the empty lot to hunt ghosts and animal bones, my brother and I had to go to Chinese school. No amount of kicking, screaming, or pleading could dissuade my mother, who was solidly determined to have us learn the language or our heritage. ;;;;; 9 My brother was even more fanatical than I about speaking English. He was especially hard on my mother, criticizing her, often cruelly, for her pidgin speech-smatterings ofChinese scattered like chop suey in her conversation. Its not what it is, Mom, he would say in exasperation. It is What is it, what is it, what is it! Sometimes Mom mightleave out an occasional the or a or perhaps a verb of being.He would stop her in mid-sentence: Say it again, Mom. Say it right. When he tripped over his own tongue, hed blame it on her. See, Mom, it is all your fault. You set a bad example. 10 What infuriated my mother was when my brother cornered her on her consonants, especially r. Myfather had played a cruel joke on Mom by assigning her an American namethat her tongue would not allow her to say. No matter how hard she tried, Ruth always ended up Luth or Roof.;;