Before he retired, a dean at my university in China used to warn incoming freshmen, “To learn a foreign language is to lose face.” His intent was to inspire new students to persevere in spite of the inevitable humiliation they would encounter on their way to fluency in English. My own experiences over more than twenty years in China attest to the truth of his words. I’ve made my share of language mistakes in Chinese, and the cultural misunderstandings have been even more embarrassing. On numerous occasions, I’ve had to pick myself up out of a puddle of humiliation and try again.
My experiences living and communicating outside my comfort zone pale in comparison to those of my dean and other colleagues. Even though I am a guest in their culture, they seek me out as an “expert” in the English language and often also in teaching. In contrast, they have chosen lifelong engagement in a profession in which they see themselves as second-class, non-native English speakers. Even though they are intimately acquainted with the ins and outs of learning English as a foreign language, rarely do they view themselves as experts. They have stepped outside their comfort zone. Even more, given their profession, they are constantly losing face, and they do so with unpretentious persistence and passion. One colleague in particular stands out.
I first met Ms. Ma when I set up a teacher support group to provide my colleagues a venue for practicing English and discussing education topics. Although apprehensive, Ms. Ma agreed to participate. As an older teacher, she was facing potential humiliation. In Chinese society, her age put her in a one-up position over younger teachers including me, but having had fewer learning opportunities in the more distant days of her youth, she struggled to put her ideas into English and had much less exposure to up-to-date teaching approaches. Nevertheless, she faithfully showed up each week and participated in every discussion with humble determination, eagerly listening and earnestly learning from her younger colleagues not to mention me. As our friendship grew over the next few years, the pieces of her professional journey slowly began to coalesce into a whole life picture, and I found a kindred spirit.
In the days of Ms. Ma’s childhood, her home province was desolate and underdeveloped. Large swaths were considered uninhabitable and among the most impoverished regions in the country. The area was also as aesthetically and educationally barren as the surrounding drought-stricken lands. As an example, even though Ms. Ma’s father had only a 4th grade education and her mom none, her family was considered “high level,” affording opportunity for all seven children to surpass their parents’ schooling.
On reaching middle school, Ms. Ma was inspired by interactions with teachers from a more developed region and consequently resolved to go on to high school. Since the school was some distance away, she would need to board, but when she approached her father for help, he initially rejected her plans. He was influenced by a society that 重男轻女ℹ️ gave precedence to sons and failed to see a need to educate his daughter. Undeterred, she found a place to live and went anyway.
Three years later, Ms. Ma matriculated to a foreign languages department at university, putting her on a trajectory to become an English teacher. At that time, her university had no expat teachers for students to interact with, books in English were sparse, and other resources were limited. For faculty and their students, success meant making the most of any and every opportunity. Responding to a teacher’s challenge in her freshmen year, Ms. Ma began to listen daily to Voice of America’s (VOA) special (slow and simplified) English radio broadcasts. At the outset, she comprehended very little, just a few random words which she recorded in a notebook. By the end of that school year, the only part she could fully understand was the final line, “This is VOA signing off.” Undaunted, she persisted.
After graduating from university, Ms. Ma embarked on her career as an English teacher. Like many of her classmates, she started out teaching high school English, but after a few years, an opportunity led to a more prestigious position at a local college. At first, “I understood nothing,” she claims. As she floundered in her new role, she noted the exceptional English skills of a new-hire fresh from the local university. Soon, she took a humble step down the social hierarchy to seek out this younger teacher’s help. However, just when Ms. Ma was growing comfortable with her developing skills, the college consolidated with the local university, and she started over again.
A decade later came the first round of my teacher support group, and yet again Ms. Ma stepped into a potential loss of face with humble persistence. By the end of the first year, her trepidation had been erased by enthusiasm, and she gladly took a turn leading the group. Over the years, with each humble but persistent step out of her comfort zone, her passion for English and learning grew and as a result so did her skill.
Thirty years after her inaugural VOA broadcast, Ms. Ma still listens every day. Online now, the broadcasts are easier to access. More importantly, she understands them in full. In fact, she listens to the regular broadcasts because “the beginning level is too plodding.” Every year she explains her long-time habit to each new group of students, and hoping to ignite their passion for English, encourages them to develop a similar routine.
Likewise, Ms. Ma’s family has grown accustomed to her daily practice. One morning, she was busily collecting her teaching materials before heading to class while also finishing some household tasks in her mom’s apartment. Glancing at the time, her ninety-year-old mother who neither reads in her native language nor understands any English, shooed Ms. Ma back to her computer. “You haven’t listened to VOA yet this morning,” her mom gently chided.
Time and again over twenty plus years in China, I have stepped into the unknown, but these scattered moments of discomfort have been mild in comparison to Ms. Ma’s experiences. She would like to give me some credit. “Your protection of my face has given me the courage to lose face,” she claims. But her unpretentious persistence was on the scene long before I was. It encourages me to keep venturing out and across languages and cultures. Even more, she inspires me to look to the lifelong model I have found in Jesus. Though she follows a different path, Ms. Ma’s journey reminds me of the greater distance He traveled from heaven to earth. Without intending it to be, her attitude is a simple reflection of His deeper passion. Light entered darkness, God clothed Himself in ill-fitting human skin, and King humbly bowed His knees to live, and die, as servant.
Water for the Weary 
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