So… when I was a kid, like soon after I gained proficiency in English, they made me translate:

every paper they fill, tax documents, USCIS (the government agency in the US that deals with immigration) shenanigans, letters, bills, phone calls, talking to customer support (I mean like utilities, phone bills, banking, etc…), trying to buy a house, car dealership, court cases, doctor’s appointments, city hall stuff, bussiness licenses, and um…

fucking parent-teacher conferences? Wtf so… am I supposed to translate the negative things the teacher says about me? Huh? 🧐 (I kinda just refused, just sit there in silence while teachers were trying to find some adult in the building that can translate). I remember it felt so awkward.

Like, bruhhhh I went to 2nd grade in my previous country, I don’t even have the vocabulary to explain shit.

Then like if I refuse, my parents ask my older brother, then he gets mad and is like: “why not ask him [aka: me]?” So then it’s a sort of 3-way mini-cold-war at home.

Such a chaotic childhood.

I can sometimes almost sort of “hallucinate” my name being called for some weird bs.

When you think about it this way, I’m sort of like a diplomat between my household and the outside world. I guess I should just get a job at the UN (/kidding, no way in hell I wanna do any more “translating” bullshit as a job)