Ema Klimauskas '22 Recruiting Profile

I was the only kid in my grade that did not know the most common language in the world.
 

In 2001 both of my parents migrated to California from their home country Lithuania. Being a newlywed couple and spending twelve-hour shifts working was not easy. Learning how to ask for directions and spell out simple words seemed complicated. This is precisely the same way I felt growing up.

Since I was born, I was only spoken to in Lithuanian. Part of this was because my parents were not good English speakers but it was really because my parents refused to speak any other language to me.

As I grew older, I heard neighbors, friends, and strangers speak a language I did not understand. Before school, my parents taught me the alphabet and numbers 1-10 within a week. Every day it was abcd…, then one, two, three, over and over again. I knew letters and numbers but what about words? How was I going to talk to others?
 

The answer was quite simple. I would have to teach myself. Once I started school I was left to my own devices. As a little girl, I was given the tremendous responsibility of learning a language I knew nothing about. No help. No support. It was just me and a bunch of worksheets asking how to sound out the word “house” and draw a red car. It was especially hard when my classmates offered no help when I tried to sound out or pronounce words.
 

I never felt accepted. Unexplainable amounts of kids would constantly come up and ask me why I was so shy. They asked me why I never talked or played with the other kids, but I never responded. Even the school teachers were baffled as to why I was the only one sitting at the lunch tables molding playdough instead of playing catch with my classmates. It turned out I just did not know how to answer.
 

There was the overwhelming feeling that there was someone to blame.  For the longest time, it was always my parents. It was ultimately my parents’ fault for only having me recite the alphabet. It was ultimately their fault for leaving their four-year-old daughter at school to learn by herself. And most of all, it was their fault for not telling me how hard it was going to be not having the ability to communicate with almost every single person around me.
 

At some point, I realized that my parents were not to blame. They helped me become who I am. As I started to become an adult, I came to the realization that I was lucky to know more than one language. There was always a sense of guilt lingering in the back of my brain knowing that others only spoke English because their guardians believed English was more fitting with the environment they lived in.

With all the guilt and pride, I understood that sometimes being thrown in the deep end helps. Now I am one of the few kids/young adults who can speak fluently in Lithuanian and English from the Lithuanian community in Los Angeles. My parents are the ones to thank. Because of them I know two languages and am learning more. I take pride in the fact that I am bilingual and still possibly even better in Lithuanian. Enhancing my skills further by attending Lithuanian school on Saturdays since 5th grade where I was practically the only one who spoke the native language. I was molded into someone who speaks better Lithuanian than some of the teachers.

Growing up in the United States and knowing a language only about three million people know worldwide is a gift. Just like the Lithuanian singer Marijonas Mikutavicius sang, “Nors esam pasauly tik trys milijonai!”(Although we are just three million in the world)