My effort to fit in American culture My idea of what American culture has changed greatly since I have emigrated from my home land of Mongolia. As an undergraduate student, I participated in American studies and English as a secondary language. This did not prepare me for the cultural shock and social obstacles that I would have to overcome. My goals of establishing a new life and fitting into the melting pot of the American culture were highly understated and unrealistic. It was a dark and rainy day when I first arrived at O’Hare International Airport. When I arrived in America, I had a student visa, a partial scholarship, and five hundred dollars in my purse. I had confidence that I could pay the remainder of my tuition, living expenses, and book fees with a part time job. I was quick to learn that my visa did not open the doors to my expectations. The bureaucratic cultural restrictions were about to make a lasting impression on all my expectations and plans. According to the homeland security regulations, a foreign student must have a work permission document to earn any kind of supplemental income. If I was given a waiver, I would then be restricted to work no more than twenty hours a week. The college I was planning to attend had a strict policy that did not allow international students to be employed, even on a part time basis. I then learned that any student who did not have a proper documentation could not obtain a social security card. I found myself in denial and disbelief. Where was the country that I had studied about, founded on the sanctity of an individual’s
Tarrant 2 freedom? Where was the open all encompassing culture I wanted to blend into and grow with? None of the freedoms that I was exposed to in Mongolia were now available to me here. These cultural and bureaucratic dictates reinforced my assigned guest status in this country. They were obstacles I would have to overcome to fit in the great American melting pot. I could not drop out of school in order to keep my student visa status. The only way to survive and support myself was to seek employment as an undocumented worker. I was now competing with a myriad of ethnic persuasions for blue collar service oriented jobs. Most of these immigrants had no visas or entry documentation. They came to America in search of economic success and work related opportunities. While I was going to school on the weekends, I tried to find work as a delivery driver. Although there were schools that would prepare me for this occupation, the tuition and fees were far beyond my budget. It was then that my friend gave me the book “Road rule in Illinois” to study and prepare me for the commercial driver’s test. Reading a book in English was very difficult and challenging to me. There were thousands of unknown vocabulary words that I had never been exposed to before. The other aspect of acquiring a commercial license was the actual driving. To accomplish this, my friend would take me to a park near Lake Michigan to practice operating a motor vehicle. After many long hours of studying and driving I was able to pass the Illinois State driving exam. It was one of my first steps to fit in the great American culture. Three months later, I gained access to a tax ID number. The owner of an employment agency told me that I could use the tax ID number instead of a government issued social security card. She had lots of success placing people as care givers to the sick and elderly. After my first interview session, I was immediately offered a job. Before starting the new job, I had to pay her
Tarrant 3 two weeks salary to satisfy her placement fee. This payment came with no guarantee that the job would be successful or permanent. This experience helped me to realize that within the American culture, there was a counter culture that functioned purely on need, without any set of legitimate principals or regulations. I was desperate and my savings were dwindling fast. I took the job offer. I was charged with providing care 24 hours a day six days a week for Courtney Levengton. She was a 28 years old woman who was the victim of a terrible car accident. The owner of the employment agency told me that her family did not live together and Courtney would be the only person I would have care for. It turned out to be very different situation as I had to live with, and look after Courtney, her sister Julia, her husband, and three children. My care was not restricted to one client as promised, but an entire family. The agency represented me as much older than I was, with a studied medical and nursing background. This deception was something that weighed heavily on me and was hard to keep bottled up inside. This was out and out fraud on the part of the employment agency. Since I had already paid the exorbitant placement fee, I had no recourse other than to do the very best job possible. One of my primary responsibilities was to prepare and drive Courtney to Rehabilitation Center. The first day of her rehab, Julia gave me directions on how to get to the hospital. While Courtney was going about her exercise routine, I decided to get familiar with the hospital’s neighborhood. I drove south for a few miles and decided to return. When I attempted to turn around, there was too much traffic for me to safely do so. I then stopped the car and turned on the hazard lights. Suddenly, a police car with its lights flashing pulled in behind me. This was the first time in my life I had encountered a police officer. I was so intimidated and frightened that I could hardly keep my composure. The police officer walked to my car and asked why I turned on the hazard lights. My reply was that I turned on the lights because I was concerned other cars would not see me and this would cause an accident. It was simply the truth. He then asked why I had stopped here. I told him that I tried to turn around, but I could not because the oncoming traffic never did slow down or stop. He then asked to see my driver’s license. Unfortunately, I did not have my driver’s license with me, so the police wrote down my name and he went back his car. I was shaking like a leaf and whispering; “oh my God, I would now have a ticket on my record, or perhaps, he would tow my car. What would I tell to Courtney’s family?” There were so many terrible thoughts flowing through my head as I waited for his return. This was the longest two minutes of my life I have ever known.
When he returned to my car, I was so surprised that the officer did not write me a traffic violation. He did just the opposite of my expectations and told me; “please try to drive a bit faster because this is a two lane highway and people do drive fast on it.” The police officer then stopped all traffic to assist me to turn around and go back the way I came. On the way back, I was so relieved. I hardly noticed the huge tractor trailer truck on my back, like wolf chasing a rabbit. I thought to myself that this must be one of the cultural privileges of being a white female in her car.
How do I fit in the American contemporary culture? I am now participating in the American cultural experience. I am happily married and living in American dream of home ownership and continuing my graduate education. This contemporary culture is now a part of my contributions and creation.