Posts
Many posts are written in other languages as submitters often do not speak English natively. A translated post in English will be below each post. Thank you for your understanding.
Embedded Files
Week 1
Our hearts go out to those who are struggling. From this week's submission, we would like to bring awareness to a very important aspect of bullying amongst the elderly: many feel that it is too taxing to confront the aggressor at their age.
Liu, 82 years old.
Liu, 82 years old.
我姓刘，山东人，今年八十二岁。年轻时候当过老师，后来跟着孩子移民来美国。孩子忙，工作压力大，把我安排到了这家老人院，说是方便照顾，其实我也理解，生活嘛，谁都不容易。
刚来的时候，我不太敢说话，英语也不太会讲，就自己在房间里看看书，练练字。院子里有个靠窗的位子，我喜欢坐那儿晒太阳，拿手指在空中写几个字，自得其乐。
可时间久了，我发现这里不是我想象的那么平静。
有些老人不太友好，我一走过去就听他们笑，有时候还故意学我说话的口音，咧嘴怪声怪气地说些听不懂但知道不是什么好话的词。我夹菜的时候用筷子，他们就当我是表演杂技似的围观、取笑
我没理他们。我这个年纪了，吵不动，也不想吵。忍一忍，也就过去了。
可是，有一天我坐在窗边，看见一个年轻的义工女孩站在不远处，脸上写着愤怒。我听见她去找负责人，声音不大，但很坚定。
那一刻，我心里有点发酸。
原来，还有人看见我。
老了以后，最怕的不是身体差，不是吃得不好、睡得不香，是那种被当空气的感觉。像是你还在这儿活着，但在别人眼里，你已经不算什么人了。
我知道我不是美国人，我的语言也不流利，可我这一辈子也不是白过的。我教过学生，抚养过儿女，我懂礼，也讲理。我只是想安安静静地过完这些年，不指望被谁特别尊重，只希望不要被轻看。
这点要求，不过分吧？
Translated version
Translated version
My last name is Liu, I am from Shandong, and I am 82 years old this year. I was a teacher when I was young, and later I immigrated to the United States with my children. My children are busy and the work pressure is high, so I was arranged to live in this nursing home, saying that it is convenient to take care of. In fact, I understand that life is not easy for anyone.
When I first came here, I didn’t dare to speak much, and I didn’t speak English very well, so I just read books and practiced calligraphy in my room. There is a seat by the window in the yard. I like to sit there to bask in the sun and write a few words in the air with my fingers.
But after a long time, I found that this place is not as peaceful as I imagined.
Some elderly people are not very friendly. I hear them laugh as soon as I walk over. Sometimes they deliberately imitate my accent, grin and say some words that I don’t understand but know are not good words. When I use chopsticks to pick up food, they watch and make fun of me as if I am performing acrobatics.
I ignored them. At my age, I can’t quarrel, and I don’t want to quarrel. Just bear it, and it will pass.
However, one day I was sitting by the window and saw a young volunteer girl standing not far away, with anger written on her face. I heard her go to the person in charge, her voice was not loud, but very firm.
At that moment, my heart felt a little sour.
It turned out that someone saw me.
When I get old, the most frightening thing is not poor health, not eating poorly, not sleeping well, but the feeling of being treated as air. It's like you are still alive here, but in the eyes of others, you are no longer a person.
I know I am not an American, and I am not fluent in the language, but my life is not in vain. I have taught students and raised children. I am polite and reasonable. I just want to spend these years quietly, not expecting to be respected by anyone, just hoping not to be looked down upon.
Is this request not too much?
Page updated
Google Sites
Report abuse