My Corner for Education

One of my best friends, FY, just came back from Taiwan. She told me that it is extremely hot in Taiwan. Originally, she was planning to stay in Taiwan for half a year, but now she has changed her mind. I am glad she has decided to come back to Canada, or I would have missed her dearly. I met FY about 14 years ago when her youngest son was in my Chinese class. Later on, she became my teaching assistant for that multi-leveled class. She has been a great friend who looks after me and treats me like a family member. FY is the one who encouraged me to write about her immigration story. I don’t think her immigration experience is one of those typical stories, but it certainly is a valuable lesson for many who are planning to move to a new country.

Before FY received her paper of landing from Canadian Immigration Office, she sent her oldest son with her neighbor’s daughter to study in Canada. FY persuaded her neighbors to send their daughter who was a few years older than her son to come along. They could keep each other company, she thought. First, they stayed with FY’s sister for a while. Then they were arranged to stay with a friend’s family. Apparently, FY’s sister had known this friend for over 20 years. The friend and her husband both came from Taiwan asvwell and each has a PhD degree from a reputable university here in Canada. FY trusted this kind of connection and agreed to pay the family a significant amount of monthly payment for her children’s room and board.

Both teenagers were in the early years of high school. FY thought she was giving her son the best education she could have ever offered to him. She was really concerned that her oldest son would not be able to do well for the high school and university exams in Taiwan. She wanted him to have more opportunities in education. Meanwhile, she had invested $250,000 Canadian dollars on investment funds through an immigration and investment company in western Canada in order to immigrate to Canada as an investor immigrant.

Unfortunately, FY happened to send her children to someone who was not too concerned about the children’s well-being. The friend (the home-stay mother) in fact set up a “house chores” schedule for the two teenagers everyday. Those were not ordinary house chores like cleaning up their own room or helping out in the kitchen. It was actually a full cooking and cleaning schedule for the two youngsters. Instead of helping out, they had to take turns to cook and clean for the whole family! It is like modern day child labor. (Gee, can I order a few of those?) FY came to visit her son one day and discovered that the two young teenagers were living in a room in the basement without windows and the chores they had to do in the house. She was so deeply hurt and immediately made a decision to rent an apartment and move the children out of the house.

FY’s daughter was ready to go to middle school by then. So, FY and her husband had to make a quick decision to leave her husband behind in Taiwan and moved the whole family to Canada as soon as she got the immigration paper. Her husband continued to work in Taiwan till a few years ago after his retirement from the government job. In Canada we sometimes call this kind of family arrangement, the “astronaut” family; i.e., one parent stays behind in Taiwan to work and sends money to support the family overseas while the other parent lives with the children. The parent who stays behind usually has to fly back and forth between two countries to be with the family a few times a year. Or, the parents leave the children with another family and they fly back and forth to visit the children.

I am heading to Amsterdam and Brussels for 10 days in August. We have never been to those cities before. I am big on research so I'd like to get some information on "must see" attractions for Netherland and Belgium. Trust me, I have been reading nonstop about the places I want to visit. I will not miss places like the Rembrandt and van Gogh Museums. In fact, we will be staying by the Rembrandt Square, but is there something else that is absolutely a "must-see"? (other than those regular "tourists' traps") It is always a good idea to listen to another traveler's valuable experiences. Please help me make a list of attractions to visit. 謝謝! Thank you!


All comments are welcome.

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I always like this song. The song is about Vincent van Gogh, the artist. I guess I can understand how a brilliant but troubled artist was not fully understood and accepted by others.

Surprise One!

My husband and I got married in the fall of 1990. By the time we settled into our new routine, Christmas had arrived and the New Year soon followed. My Da-Pong husband’s family had the tradition of having Christmas brunch and Christmas dinner on the 25th of December. On the New Year’s Day, the family would have a dinner together again. So, those two weeks of December were busy time for us.

The New Year's Day in 1991, we got down to the parking garage, ready to leave for the family dinner, only to discover that my husband's pride and joy Camero Z28 IROC had disappeared from the parking lot. Two months after we got married and on the first day of 1991, we suddenly fell into a black hole and became the victim of a car theft on New Year’s Day.

We did find the car. Police did anyway, three months later, in the middle of nowhere. The thieves took the whole car apart! The wheels were gone, the engine was pulled, the chairs were taken, and the whole car was ransacked. Nothing was left behind, including the cigarette lighter on the dashboard. The only thing left was the shell of the car body with the glass T roofs. Those stupid thieves did not realize that Glass T roofs were expensive items too, or maybe they wanted the car to look OK from a distance!

Apparently, the 1985 Camero Z28 IROC was the number one stolen car in North America. Thieves would take the car apart and sell those parts to auto shops all over North America. When I saw the empty car body, I cried in the deserted field where the car was dumped. I was sad to see the car but it was a closure for us! It also marked the end of my husband’s sports car era.

September 1993 came and went. I lost my father, and there was still no teaching job available. My self-esteem went down to the lowest point in my life. I started teaching on the weekends at the local Chinese School. During the daytime, I worked full time at the furniture store. I was frustrated because I could not do what I truly wanted to do. The business at the store was not the greatest either because consumers were really careful about their spending during the economic down time. Meanwhile, I kept on sending my resumes to school after school, any school within about an hour of driving distance because I had to think of winter commute here in Canada. I did not have a car then.

After I started working at the Chinese School, I decided to volunteer at an elementary school in my neighborhood. I needed some Canadian teaching experiences but no one could offer me one. So, I introduced myself to the vice principal and offered my help to teachers at the school. I met one of my classmates there at the school. She just started supplying for the school board. I was happy for her because she at least got a real job as a substitute teacher.

I volunteered for three and a half hours every morning from 8:30 to 12:00 at the school. After half a day of volunteer work, I would then take the bus to the store to work from 1:00 to 9:00 four days a week. I literally worked from 8:30 in the morning to 9:00 at night every day. On Saturday, I would teach from 9:00 to 12:00 at the Chinese School and then worked at the store from 1:00 to 6:00 in the afternoon.

I hate tears! I sometimes cried secretly during those dark days because I really had no idea how long I had to keep going on like that. It seemed to be no hope in sight for me to get hired as a professional teacher. My husband knew how eager I wanted to get a teaching job. He encouraged and supported me during those dark days because I spent a lot of time out of the house in order to gain what I had to put on my resume. He would change his work time to accommodate my schedule. He was concerned about my physical health and emotional stability. I had never cried that much in my entire life, but I could not tell my frustration to my family who were dear to me back home. My husband thought that I was literally stressing myself out. Sometimes, he would get really frustrated and tell me that I was my own worst enemy.

The job prospect was not good, and it went on for a while. I was not alone though. It was simply very difficult to get into teaching then. I met an East Indian teacher, Sheila, at the International Language School. She was a full time immigrant case worker for the Multicultural Council, and she also taught at the Hindi School on Saturday. I got to know her because I was a volunteer interpreter for new Chinese immigrants at the Council. Sheila was a teacher in India before she came to Canada. When I first met her, she was also looking for a teaching position. One fall day in 1994, she came to tell me that she just went to a hiring orientation at the neighbouring board. There were at least 3000 applicants there at the convention hall where they held the orientation. My spirit went down another level. It was almost impossible to get into teaching!

I love my father and still often think of him. I am the first born in my whole family network. My dad loved me as the first born and was always proud of me for my accomplishments. Everyone knows that I have my father’s personality. Sometimes, that is a compliment because my dad was a very charming and popular businessman and an active member in the labour union. I was just the same when I was studying at school and later working in Taiwan. I was very active in the student unions and clubs when I was at school.

My father and I admired each other because we were so similar. We were both very proud and stubborn as well. Once we had our mind set, we simply would go ahead and never look back. We, however, bucked head often, especially, about his business decision. He was not a very careful businessman. In a traditional Chinese family, no matter how resentful we were about his frivolous attitude, we could not openly express our disagreement towards him, the elder! Although I bear the resemblance, I never want to be like him. He brought us too much unnecessary pain throughout the years due to his poor business decisions.

My father was 49 when he got sick with cancer. My mother gave up her business to take care of him full time. I was working for a convention organizer during the daytime and teaching English at Fu Jen University Continuing Education Department in the evening. Luckily, all my siblings were all grown up and were able to sustain basic financial situation. After the thyroid cancer operation, my father was sent home paralyzed from the neck down due to the spread of his cancer. The doctor told me that my father was “lucky” to have cancer that could be operated; however, the cancer had gotten into his spine and damaged his neuron-system. I was told on the day he was released from the hospital to take him home and let him enjoy his life with a “better living standard”. Basically, the doctor implied that his living days would not be too long and he would be disabled for the rest of his life.

Against all odds, my father lived for another 7 years. He was very alive but discouraged. It was not easy for anybody, especially for a proud man like him. I had planned to come to Canada before he got sick. I kept delaying the departure date due to my father’s health condition. I questioned myself about my decision to leave and I did not have the heart to tell my parents about the final plan. My father did not disagree with my plan when I finally revealed my decision to him. I remember that he just asked me subtly why I couldn’t just find a boy friend in Taiwan. He said, “You are involved in so many activities and have so many “boy” friends, why can’t you just find someone local in Taiwan?” Deep down in my heart, I knew he did not want me to leave, but he did not want me to change my plan because of him either. He had never asked me not to leave. In fact, if he did ask me then, I probably would never make it to Canada.

It’s our family trait that we do not give up easily. I had wonderful jobs in Taiwan. For a single career woman, I was able to maintain substantial income standard. To leave the country, I had to give them all up. I could understand my parents’ concerns about giving up my career there. Meanwhile, my siblings were quite disappointed with me leaving the family behind as well. They knew that I sooner or later had to get married; however, they resented my decision to leave Taiwan. So, I left home under the circumstances like that.

1993 was a busy year for me. Many things happened, good and bad, and with happiness and with sorrow. For immigration reason, I was not allowed to leave the country for two years starting from the date of application. So, I finally became a full Canadian citizen in spring 1993 right after my graduation from the Faculty of Education. With the citizenship, came the passport application. We were happy to be able to finally travel back to Taiwan although we could not do it due to a new financial reason.

While I was quite happy with the completion of my schooling and my new citizenship, my husband’s court case was also finally settled in the spring of 1993. He was involved in a car accident in 1983, with no fault of his own. However, the motorcycle guy who hit him had some disagreement with his own insurance company, which consequently affected the insurance payout to my husband. Of course, they all went to court, the motorcycle guy, his insurance carrier, my husband and his insurance carrier. It was like a farce for ten long years!

Finally ten years later in 1993, the case was settled OUT OF COURT. Who won in this case? The lawyers! More than half of my husband entitlement went to pay the lawyers. The motorcycle guy apparently would be on the wheelchair for the rest of his life, and my husband’s health was also wrecked. It was really a joke of the system. Anyway, with the little insurance payout, we decided to put it down as a down payment to purchase our first detached home. Due to the recession, the interest rate was falling to the all time low. It was a good time for us to finally secure a piece of our own real estate. Since I would be starting working full time at the store, it would make sense to start thinking about our financial plan. So, we purchased our first home and moved in the summer of 1993.

Right after we moved into our new home, I also got myself a part time teaching position at the local Chinese School which was not too far from the house. I accepted the teaching position for September not because of the money. They certainly haven’t paid teachers enough to teach those multi-level heritage language classes. It was more of an opportunity to be in a Canadian classroom, to meet Chinese people in the community, and to establish a sense of belonging here in a new country. All heritage language schools have been run by the local Board of Education. In fact, there were at least 10 different languages being taught at the time. That tells you how diverse Canada has become.

About a week before September 1993, I got a phone call from my brother in Taiwan. He warned me of my dad’s deteriorating health and asked me to standby and be prepared to go home. My heart just sank! I called the airline immediately that night and got the ticket to fly home. A week before my full time job and the brand new class, I had to take time off and fly back to Taiwan with my new passport. Sad! Irony!

After all the hassles of daily long-distance commute, I finally graduated from the Faculty of Education in 1993. My mother-in-law and my husband were at my graduation to celebrate with me. It was a proud moment for my mother-in-law because she was there with me when I first visited the university. She knew how frustrated and determined I was to graduate from this particular university. Now I had officially graduated with another degree in Education. It would be easier for me to get into teaching profession in Canada. (Or, at least, that was what I thought at the time.)

All the graduates were excited about the end of another phase of learning journey, but most of us actually had a looming concern about job prospects in the future. The average age in my class was 32, so most of my classmates were older, the middle aged crowd. Most of us took time off work to study or had a career move, and we had to find a job as soon as possible due to our family responsibility.

The school boards usually would come around to the Faculty of Education all over Ontario in April to promote their Boards to the new teachers and to hand out job applications, but not in 1993. By then, we had officially stepped into recession, and jobs were scarce. Many Boards did come to present some basic information to us, but they frankly told us upfront that they were not planning for a massive hiring that year. The only people got interviewed that year were teacher candidates with French or music qualifications. In my class, only three teachers were interviewed. So, here we go. Now what? Three years after landing in Canada, I was still unemployed, except now I was an unemployed teacher.

I sometimes read other people’s stories about how they have struggled to survive in a new country and I can definitely relate to their experiences because I myself had been through similar situations. I am lucky to have a loving caring husband who encourages me to pursuit my dream without pulling my leg or holding me back. I, on the other hand, was my own worst enemy. I was depressed with the fact of my joblessness which later became a sense of worthlessness. I was depressed with going nowhere after three years in Canada.

I didn’t really know what hit me. I guess I just realized one day that I could not simply sit at home and mope about my depression all day long. I could drive myself crazy, or I could do something to keep myself busy or make myself useful. So, I found a part time job working at a furniture store. At the time I thought if I could get hired by a Board, it would be easier for me to quit a simple job from the store and no transition would be required.

Most of the friends I have here are related to schools. They are either my co-workers or my students’ parents. This afternoon, I had lunch with a friend who has been a parent volunteer at my school for 12 years. Her oldest and youngest sons were taught by me when they were in grade 1, 2 and 3. Her youngest son finally finished the grade 5 this year, which means that she will no longer be around at my school. It is very sad to lose these parent volunteers. Fortunately, I have made friends with many of these parents so we still can go out once a while for social gatherings.

Shortly after I got home this afternoon, I got a phone call from another parent whom I met through Chinese school. I taught his daughter in my Mandarin class twelve years ago when their family first landed in Canada from England. They were originally from Beijing, China. Over the years, I have kept in touch with most of my students and their families from the Chinese School. His daughter was one of the younger ones in the class. While many of my Chinese students just graduated this year from universities, she still has one more year to go. She is determined to follow her parents’ footsteps to study health science (nutrition). The parent told me that I had made an impact on his daughter because she always talks about me and I am the only teacher that she would visit whenever she comes to town.

I really appreciate the compliments from this parent. Our conversation brought back the memories of my days of teaching in my Mandarin class at the Chinese School. It was not an easy task to teach at a small Chinese School in a suburban city like mine. I remember I had about 20 students ranged from age five to age thirteen (kindergarten to Grade 8) in the one and only Chinese Mandarin class in town. My students all came with different language abilities depending on the families. Some of them were born here to parents from Hong Kong, so Cantonese would be the family language. Some of them were from China or Taiwan and had extensive conversing and listening abilities. Others were either born here with no Chinese cultural experiences at all or Canadian kids who just wanted to learn the language. It was not easy to teach a group of students with multi-levels and multi-ages. I simply had to take it like teaching ESL students with different abilities and cultural backgrounds.

I remember that I taught traditional Chinese characters to all the students regardless where they came from. After each instruction on writing strokes, I would also show them how the simplified character would look like. I always told my students that they needed to know the origin and progression of the character formation. If they know the traditional characters, it would be easy for them to recognize their simplified formation. It was my belief that I had to do everything possible to show them both ways of the character formation. It was not that difficult for them to learn since all of them were really smart. The difficult task was really how to make the learning interesting and fun for those students.

My students, as well as many Chinese kids overseas, lacked motivation to learn the language. I couldn’t blame my students for not showing motivation because they were learning a language they didn’t not have opportunities to use or practice outside the classroom. Some of their parents don’t speak the language either. I did try my best to make each and every lesson fun and interesting. I had different activities and stories all the time in hope that they at least absorbed just a tiny bit of Chinese language and culture from each lesson.

I met Jenny when she first sent her son Eric to my Chinese class 14 years ago. Our relationship as parent and teacher has grown into solid friendship over the years. She is just like my family here in Canada. She knows that my family is all in Taiwan. Whenever I am coming down with illness, she would be the first one to check on me, which is something that only a family member would do. 

I taught Jenny's youngest son Eric at our local Chinese School for 3 years. I ended up quitting that position because I was too busy with my day school job and needed a break on the weekend. Jenny's daughter, Amy, who was a student at University of Toronto then, took over half of my Chinese class. Time flies. I can't believe that the young high school girl I met 14 years ago is now ready to step into another stage of her life. Her husband-to-be, Sean, is a caring young man who has a good plan for his career and his family. My husband and I would like to wish them luck for their future plan. 

The Lees are all in Taiwan right now for the big day on June 16. Unfortunately, someone (moi) has to stay here to work till the end of June and will not be able to attend their wedding. Let's share their joy on the blog with all my readers. Congratulations to Sean and Amy!

*For their big day, I've attached a popular wedding music here to play on my blog, Canon in D Major, by Johann Pachelbel.

 

The satellite campus of the university I went to was not too far from where I used to live. It took me only an hour and ahalf to get to school in the morning. To tell the truth, it was not much of a campus either. The university basically rented a section of apublic school as their satellite campus. There were about 120 students at the satellite campus. I still remember, on the orientation day there were only four or five visible minority students; one black fellow, two East Indians, and myself. Later on, I found out there was another Iranian lady.

We were put in three or four different counseling groups. It was quite nerve-racking to be the only ethnic student in my counseling group. My classmates were civil to me, but I could sense that they seemed to be quite distant. I was quiet in my group because I always observed first in a new environment ever since I came to this country. I was definitely not shy at all; however, I could sense that people were hesitant to talk to me. If I initiated aconversation, I usually got very polite and brief responses from others. I worked hard trying to fit in the group, but I knew that it would not be easy to make any close friends. This was the university that tried to deter me to go to U of T instead because someone thought that I would fit into the ethnic category at another school. No matter what, I was planning to stay put. Later on, I was surprised to find out some terrible things that happened to the other ethnic students. The following is the story.

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I met one of the East Indian students on the bus when we were onthe way to our orientation. I initiated a conversation and was veryhappy to find out that we were heading to the same place. (Who else would take a long bus ride to the very end of town?) We were both new immigrants in a new land, pretty much like being in the same boat. She was very easy to talk to, and obviously we were both excited about the year ahead. We were placed in different counseling groups, so I did not have opportunities to see her often. After September, I saw her once a while in the hallway, but then she just disappeared. I didn’t find out where she went until later on.

One day during the study on Racism and Multiculturalism in Educational Psychology, the professor told us about his experience as a young Polish immigrant in Canada. He dropped out of high school because of the abuse and bullied experiences that he had received from his classmates and teachers at his old high school in Windsor Ontario about 40 years ago. His abusive father was very upset with him, so he then left home to learn a trade at a flourmill and bakery shop. For a poor immigrant family, if you did nothave an education, you might as well go into the hard labor force to learn a skill.

I arrived in Canada close to the end of October in 1990. By the time we started the immigration application process and went through the wedding plan, Christmas was then quickly approaching. I did not have any time at all to prepare for either job or school application. The deadline for university application is usually at the end of December in Ontario. I missed the deadline so that I could not attend any university until a year later in September. I finally applied for universities a year later and spent another half a year for the application process. Most of the time was spent on waiting and waiting for admission notice to arrive. By the time I was ready to go to the Faculty of Education, two years had passed.

After my first visit to a university admission officer, I did not feel optimistic at all about getting into teaching in Ontario. Maybe the officer was right, I thought. Toronto was the hub for all the Chinese immigrants who tried to get out Hong Kong before 1997. Most of the immigrants landed in Toronto. I thought maybe the University of Toronto would be accepting more ethnic students because of the increasing Chinese population. Anyway, a year later, I applied for three universities after I visited a few and figured out how the university application process worked.

Meanwhile, I took a TOEFL test and started taking evening credit courses at a university in the neighboring city. Unfortunately, this particular one did not offer any degree in Education. Instead, I took psychology, which is also an area of interest to me. I also went to adult high school learning centre during the daytime to take high school credits for some social studies courses to familiarize myself better with the political and social systems here. I was trying to keep myself busy throughout the days because I had too much idle time sitting at home and doing nothing. Joblessness drove me nuts!

Finally the university notice arrived in spring 1992, and I was on the waiting list for U of T. (Sigh!) I was not accepted by another university in Toronto which took me three hours to get there for an interview. (Thank God!) Surprisingly, I was accepted by the university that I had a terrible encounter with the admission officer. I didn’t really want to go to that university, but I guess life always has a twisted turn. I ended up going there because I didn’t have time to wait for U of T to go through the list. I could only count the eggs in my basket. I, however, considered myself lucky to be able to get accepted at all. My in-laws told me that I should accept the offer and go to the university just to prove that officer wrong. So, I did!

The university I chose was a great one for me in terms of location and transportation. This university had a satellite campus in the same town where I was taking university credits for psychology. I was quite familiar with the busing system by then. Even though it was farther away from me, but I didn’t mind getting up early and spending an hour and a half waiting for buses. I was lucky enough to get in a Faculty of Education, which is like winning a lottery in my view!

Living in North America without a car is like walking without a leg. Unless you are living in one of those big cities where trains, buses and subways are all well connected, you would be quite limited to how fast you could get around town. I thought I could live here like my other life in Taiwan, hopping on the bus or flagging down a taxi and it would take me everywhere I wanted to go. Ha, not here! It is not easy to live in a small town in Canada, the second largest country in the world! It is almost impossible to walk to places nearby, especially in the winter time. I was mostly home bound and very dependent on my husband who would take me places to do simple things after he got home from work. (I guess that’s why we have established the habit of doing things together on the weekend ever since we got married.)

The bus system in my city has not changed much for the last 20 years. This is how the local bus system works. A bus usually takes passengers from one end of the city to the centre hub, most likely the train stations or the bus terminal. Unlike Taiwan, these buses only run every half hour or every hour. The passengers then have to transfer to another bus to reach their final destinations as long as their first bus arrives on time or ahead of time, or the passengers would have to hang around longer at the hub for quite a while to connect to another bus. From one end of the town to the other could mean that the passengers probably have to transfer a few times on the bus.

Normally the trip to a local mall or a grocery store might only take us 20 minutes of car ride, but it would take me more than an hour to get there by bus. If I wanted to go to a nearby town or city, I would have to take a train, or take those buses that run only twice or three times a day. So, the trip to the next town for me used to be a full day event, which was very inefficient way to get things done. 

I had the first hand painful experiences with the busing system when I got here. I had to take buses frequently to travel to the immigration office in a neighbouring town. We did not hire a lawyer or an immigration consultant to handle our immigration application. I had to be in charge of doing everything myself from immigration to my education or job application. My husband had to work and I simply could not ask him to take too many days off just to accompany me to visit places. The on-line application or cell phones were unheard of at the time, so I had to visit those government offices in person.

 
At first, it was a novelty to take buses because there were so many things to see and places to visit. I really enjoyed the bus ride and scenery. As the time went by, the novelty wore thin and it became a pain in the neck to wait for the buses! Sometimes, it took me forever to finally reach a government office, but the office then informed me that I missed this paper or that paper and I had to go back again. I hate that! Did they know that I couldn’t travel within the same day on a bus? No! I had to go back again just to finalize a simple thing. Another day meant another bus trip across town for me.

Years ago when I first came to Canada, it was very difficult for foreign-trained teachers to get into teaching. The timing was not right for me either because the whole country was just slipping into recession. Traditionally, teaching profession has been perceived as a more secured profession; therefore, many people were trying to get into teaching during the tough time then. It was almost impossible to get into any Faculty of Education to become a teacher. At the time, the Ontario government did not allow foreign universities to set up camps in Canada either. So, the admission to any Faculty of Education was just like winning a lottery. It was even more difficult for me, a new immigrant who got a degree in English Language from a foreign university in Taiwan. My English was no better than any other students who just finished their university education.

I got my degree from Fu Jen Catholic University. I was an ESL teacher at Fu Jen Adult Continuing Education for a few years. I also taught children English for many years as well. During the daytime, I had a full time job working for a manufacturer/exporter. For a few years before I came to Canada, I was involved in designing and broadcasting on a children’s radio program, Po Po and Co Co Time, teaching English on the air in Taiwan. (My voice was the character, Co Co.) Basically, I was an experienced English teacher in Taiwan without the paper of an Education degree. The irony is that English langue may be a hot commodity in Asia, but in the western world, everyone speaks English here. My language ability made my transition to the life here a bit easier. I was able to communicate without much difficulty, but it certainly did not equip me with an employable “Canadian profession” in a new country.

My husband told me that if I had difficulty finding a job, I could just stay home and be a regular housewife, and he would support me. I, of course, dismissed this idea right away because I simply could not see myself as a stay-at-home housewife for the rest of my life. (Now I sometimes regret my quick decision then and wish that I could just stay home. My husband said it is too late to change my mind now. I dug a hole seventeen years ago, and now I am in it too deep. Hahahaa. That’s too bad!) Life was a drastic change for me then, from being a professional who used to work seven days a week in Taiwan and love every minute of it to being a housewife who sat at home all day long in Canada.

We discussed about the idea of my becoming an elementary school teacher in Canada before I even landed in Canada. So, after we got married, we had no doubt that I should follow the direction and just prepare myself to pursue a teaching career. Immediately, I looked into the possibility of getting into a Faculty of Education, or so called a teachers’ college. A teacher in Ontario requires dual degrees, including a degree in Education. To apply for the Faculty of Education, the applicant needs to have at least a post secondary university degree. With completion of the Bachelor of Education, the candidate then will be qualified to apply for a teaching certificate, a license to teach in Ontario. Each province has their own accreditation process.

I landed in Ontario in late October. The deadline for the university application was in December. It was impossible for me to get all the paperwork ready and take the TOEFL test in time before the deadline. No university would take in a student who did not even have the paper of landed immigrant status. It was quite expensive to study as an international student. So, while waiting for my application in the coming year, I decided to go back to school for free to kill time, high school that is!

A while ago, my friend asked me to write an article about her immigration experience. Each and every immigrant has their own story to tell. For many, their paths to Canada have not been as rosy as most people perceive. I kept forgetting about my friend’s request until last week when my Teaching Assistant (TA) told me that she has decided to go back to Holland with her fiancé next year. They have been very disappointed with their Canadian experience. I don’t know her well enough because she just came to my class to substitute for another TA this term. I told her to stay in Canada at least till they have received their citizenship. To my surprise, she told me that they have received their citizen status for a while; however, they have been very frustrated with their career choices here. They want to go back to Europe where their families are and where their skills and education credentials would be recognized and valued.

My TA’s immigration experience is very similar to many new professional immigrants in Canada; they have a hard time finding suitable jobs here. My TA graduated from a very famous European university with a master degree. In Holland, she worked as an educational psychologist. Her fiancé was originally from Belgium. Both of them came to Canada a couple years ago. Canada loves this kind of immigrants from the old countries. They have no problem passing the Canadian immigration point system because they are young professionals; however, it is a different story for them once they have arrived.

Canadian immigration system does not have a plan in place to help these young professionals look for suitable careers. Once they have arrived, they have to convert their degrees to the Canadian equivalencies and seek a job that would accept their “foreign” (or non-Canadian) trained experiences. It sounds easy, but road blocks are actually everywhere along the path.

They are not alone in Canada though. There are tons of professional immigrants prowling the cities looking for jobs related to their past professional fields. You can easily find a PhD driving a taxi, a doctor working as a technician, or an engineer working at the construction site. Why? The reason is that Canada welcomes skilled professionals; however, many of these people have difficulties securing an equivalent job once they have landed. Companies usually ask for “Canadian” experiences. If no company is willing to give them an opportunity, how on earth could they get a Canadian experience?

Most people argue that the language barrier may be an issue; however, most new skilled immigrants who have reached the point system to arrive in Canada do have the ability to speak fluent English. The worst is that sometimes these highly skilled professionals, such as medical doctors, have to be recertified, and the process would take years. Many of them simply could not afford to go through the prolonged process because they have a family to feed; therefore, they would have to take on a job and sometimes many jobs unrelated to their own profession in order to survive.

The other day when my husband and I were having some trivialconversation in the car, I suddenly realized that he is able totake his early retirement in 10 years. My Golly, I always like to jokeabout wanting to retire as soon as possible, but retirement isreally the last thing on our minds. Now it is in fact not too farahead in the future for him. Ten years will fly by sooner than youexpect. (I am not usually a jealous type, but I am very jealous onthis one.)

I always think that only those people who can not retire woulddream about their early retirement days. (I do that all the timewhen I have a bad day. ha ha ha.) I came to Canada after a fewcareer moves in my life. By the time I moved to Canada and finishedmy degree from the Faculty of Education in Ontario in 1992, therecession had already hit Canada hard for quite a few years in the90’s. It was very difficult for me or any new teachers to secure afull time teaching job in Ontario at that time. I, therefore, did not get a fulltime teaching position until a few years later.

To re-establish a new career in a new land means that I will not beable to retire at the same age like some of my colleagues whostarted teaching immediately right after they graduated from theFaculty of Education. Instead, I will have to work a few more yearsto accumulate enough work years in order to get a full pension. Thejoke among my friends is that I probably have to teach till I use awalker to get into the school. I can not picture myself walkingaround with a stick and supervising four hundred little kids in theschool yard. (Ha. Ha. Ha.) I think the day I need a walker to goanywhere will be the day I say Sa-yo-na-ra to my job whether I get afull pension or not.


PS. My DA-PONG husband said, "Don't worry, Shiao-Pong. I won't retire until you are ready to retire." How sweet is that!

I have been surfing the Net, and quite enjoy reading blogs online.I am so grateful that so many people are willing to share theirlife experiences with total strangers. It reminds me of the olddays in any small town in Taiwan where people’s front doors were wideopen, and neighbours were welcomed to drop in to visit each other at any time. In fact, it was the same in Canada years ago that we didnot have to lock our front doors or cars. These are from time ofthe past, of course.

Nowadays, people are very private and keep to themselves, soneighbours don’t know each other very well. That is exactly why I think it is so refreshing to see peopleopenly and willingly post their thoughts on the blogging sites. Itis also a humbling experience to find out that people share andexchange ideas, recipes, and life experiences, and they are genuinelythankful for suggestions. So, when I see people post questions asking for assistance, especially regarding research on teachingand education, I was quite glad to give my two cents. I don’t claimto be the expert, but I certainly think that I have given the bestof my knowledge from my experiences. Unfortunately, now I realizedthat maybe I should be a little more cautious when offering myopinions. In fact, I was a bit ticked off by this littlebump.

The other day when I was cruising and reading blogs, I happened tocome by an article posted by a blogger asking for help. She wantedsome guidance to help her sister complete a research paper on theeducation system reform in Taiwan. Well, being an enthusiastic andpassionate person about education, I immediately left a longmessage to suggest what her sister could do and where to locateinformation. I thought I was just being helpful. After that, I didnot go back to visit her blog until today.

Well, well! I was very annoyed when I saw the message she left tocommunicate with her friend. She openly left an unpleasant messageto one of her friends that she does not know me, and does not knowwhy I left the message to her. Hello, am I out of line here? Maybe,she was intimidated by the long message, or could it be the messagein English? My input pen pad is not working, so I have no choice but to write in English. I kept going back to read my message over a few times to see if there is a problem. I just simply answered her cry for help!

As far as I am concerned, if you posted an article openly (notsealed) on your blog asking for help, you should expect that peoplemight come to your assistance. That was the reason why I dropped byand left messages on her blog to help out. When you sign up ablog, you do have a choice whether the blog is going to be openfor everybody in the public to visit, or to set it up for privatecommunication only, or at least, you have the option to seal the messages when necessary.

She was tall, beautiful, and full of life! That was my firstimpression of Marie, just like a typical Canadian Italian teenager who hasbig dreams, wants to do things and go places. Marie is thedaughter of Karen and George Salvatore. Karen used to be theprincipal at the school where I work, and she is also a good friendto many people in the education circle. Karen and her husbandGeorge are probably two of the most fun, loving and down to earthpeople I have ever met. Marie, like her parents, has that warm andpassionate Italian flare, and a hard working attitude with apositive outlook of life. At the age of 18, Marie was ready to flyaway on her own in her final year of high school.

Life was good and future was bright until that dark snowy nightbefore New Year a few years ago. After studying for hours, Marie and herfriend decided to visit a local coffee shop to get a coffee and achange of scenery. In her brand new car that she just received forher birthday, she was full of satisfied feelings after a hardworking night with a good friend. Driving ahead of her friend, theunthinkable event happened. Marie’s car skidded on the black ice sodark and sleek that the car turned round and round. Apole on the side of the road finally stopped her car, but it alsoended the dreams, hopes and bright future that Marie and her family had plannedfor her.

Marie had a severe head injury and was in a coma on life support for a long time.While funeral preparations were being discussed and the priest had been calledto say the Last Rights, Marie, to everyone’s surprise, awoke from thecoma, and stepped out of the darkest black hole for an angel who was too youngto leave us. Marie lives yet suffered serious trauma to her head. Due to the severe brain injury, she has beencompletely paralyzed ever since. Her survival, however, has brought a glimpse of hope toeverybody around her.

Marie is suffering from severe Acquired Brain Injury. The road to recovery has been full of obstacles for her. She has to re-learn all the simple lifeskills that we take for granted. From learning to speak to learningto sit up, every day is a baby step to another frustrated and tediousprogress. A brave soul such as Marie has encountered countlessundeserving failures since her coma. Fortunately, she has asupportive family; her caring parents, Karen and George, lovingbrother, Chris, and her large extended Salvatore family.

Karen and George are exceptional parents who have offeredunconditional sacrifice, and desperately want their daughter torecover. George had a great sense of humour and full of life. Karen did come back to workafter Marie moved home from the hospital. George, being the strongman he was, took on the jobs of driving, lifting and carryingMarie, and putting Marie in her wheelchair wherever they went. Their house was remodeled and renovated to accommodate Marie’sdisability. After raising two children, Karen has to re-live the experiences of baby steps and motherly care nursing their dearest growndaughter. The family continues to seek the best treatments for her, andeven have a full time live-in caregiver to provide 24-hourassistance for Marie.

I have been teaching in Canada for about 12 years. It has been a rewarding journey for me whose mother tongue is not English. I grew up in Taiwan, and had a very successful education and career. Life was good and the future was bright for a university graduate with an English major. English was my ticket to a successful career in Taiwan then.

 Then I came to Canada almost 17 years ago during the recession in 1990. My husband used to tease me that I brought the recession to Canada. (Ha. Ha. Ha. I could have killed him.) For all adult immigrants alike, the adjustment to a new life here in Canada takes time, patience and courage. The career path also requires tremendous effort for an immigrant like me. English was my specialty in a country far away, but everyone speaks English here. I could have lived comfortably as a housewife, but I didn’t have a profession. I was an independent career woman in Taiwan. The thought of sitting at home for the rest of my life scared me!

I always believe that I, as an immigrant, have to work twice as hard than others in order to prove myself. It is not my imagination but reality in a foreign country. I think, because of this kind of work ethics and discipline, my education and career have been moving smoothly. My husband and his family are always there for me since day one. I am greatly indebted to them.

Although I have established a happy family life with my husband here in Canada , none of my family and friends are here with me. They are all currently residing in Taiwan. Life is harder when friends and family are not there to console you, which also means that you have to be stronger and tougher in order to face obstacles and challenges in life alone. This is especially difficult for a newly wed in a foreign land.

I left Taiwan to marry my husband. Like many others’ experiences, my families and friends raised concerns and doubts about the prospect of a successful marriage to a foreigner. I left my father in sick bed, family in distress, friends in awe, and my successful career of managing three jobs, teaching, broadcasting and sales, simultaneously. I assured all of my loved ones that I would take care of myself. My husband and I would establish a good life.