In Korea, everyone is a year younger, so the me who was in the middle of first grade got dropped into second. Who knew?
Second Grade was decent. Nothing spectacular here. Because everyone was a ignorant kid who knew nothing of racism and stereotyping, I never really got made fun of for not talking. You see, I never spoke in public until I was sure I didn't sound like a fob with my english. Being accepted was crucial and all that, y'know?
Life was good. I made friends, from Mexican to indian, got in, uh, one fight where I got beaten up by some random fifth Grader with a buckteeth for no reason. So all the bad and all the good happened at school.
On one random ass day, my mom said, avoid the question if someone asks if we have a Green Card!
I didn't really give a shit, so I said, okay. Didn't even know what was going on here. It seemed like it really didn't matter, because my life had never changed from it. My Dad was still acting like a bigshot around the house yelling at the drop of the hat, yelled more if I cried too. Then I got hit occasionally if I was doing "bad" things, which were completely random and dependent on my Parent's opinions.
That's the gist of things at home back then. I swear, playing pokemon blue was the only thing keeping me sane, but Summer was rapidly approaching, and it would be a whole two months of staying at home. I cringed.