Hello. A single word that can change everything. At least it did for me. When I first moved to the Golden State (aka California) I was alone. I had my family, but those were the only people I knew. It was like I was a polar bear that had just been plopped into the Amazon rainforest, wandering in circles, afraid, knowing nothing about its surroundings. I stayed in my house for a week, never going out, anxious of the encounters in this new, foreign land. After a while, I went grocery shopping with my dad, stepping out of my safe sanctuary. I learned that the people here spoke a language called English, and I was to learn it. But all I heard was a barrage of sounds, jumbling together, forming indistinguishable words. After that, I only came out of the house for important business.

When school first started, I begged my mom to homeschool me, scared of interacting with children that had lived their whole lives in this state. My mother refused, and she drove me straight to school. The moment I stepped out of the car, I heard 10, no, 100 times the sound of the grocery store. I shrank away, trying to fold up within myself, to disappear. My mother paid me no heed, just pulled me along to a room. It was small, with a woman sitting behind the reception desk. She jibber-jabbered, and Mom jibber-jabbered back. The woman nodded, and directed us to a classroom. I’ll admit that I was terrified. Everything that I was trying to avoid was right there in front of me. I nervously sat down next to a girl that looked similar to me. And as I listened to all the foreign sounds, the girl turned to me. And she said, “Hello.”