People say, bigger expectations come with bigger disappointments. Arriving at the LAX airport with the excitement of being at the center of the entertainment world, big blue ocean and sky, prestigious academia with tons of new different people, I imagined myself thriving in this environment. Now for almost two years, the disappointment hits differently, the burnout hits differently, the loneliness hits differently.
Small things that made me happy back home were everyday walks with my mom and two dogs, late night stroll or chit chats with my best friend and waking up in the morning saying good morning to my family. Most importantly, I loved talking with my mom or my close friends for hours and hours on random topics.
Now, those are all gone, and I’m left in this strange city. Everything here is so unfamiliar. The streets, buildings, cars, smells, sounds and air are all different. Every joke, gesture and interaction is different.
Two things struck me: I am not sure how to be myself in this place, and I am not sure how to express myself in this language. During my first year, I lived on campus. I could safely walk at night and go to Target or Trader Joe’s at night with my best friend, who I luckily met at USC. Even though there were lots of crime alert emails from DPS (USC Department of Public Safety), I felt safe being inside the campus. Since I lived with my high school friend, I could talk and laugh with her before we went to bed. This lifestyle quenched some of my thirst for my lifestyle back at home.
Second year looked a little different. I had to assign myself to off-campus housing, as I did not have an option to live on campus. Now I am stuck in the room after classes, as I am not courageous enough to get out after the sunset. Those crime alerts feel a little closer now, and to top it off, my best friend isn’t even here with me.
In my native language, I am quite fine at making new friends as I am pretty good at making conversation fun with little jokes and nuanced compliments. Looking at me now, I have no idea how to lead a good conversation in English with new people. I act like a broken toy awkwardly rambling random things out. I just don’t get what their facial expressions mean, what their tone means, what their nuance means. Thousands of intrusive thoughts overwhelm my head while talking to others: how should I adjust my facial expressions based on what I say? What tone is suitable for my statements? Am I effectively delivering the nuances of what I am saying? After every conversation, I find myself tangled in thoughts of insecurity and concerns about how it went.
It is adulting, valuable life experiences and a step for my success– repeating to myself, encouraging myself to go through it and break the walls. However, the burn out hit me during my first semester of sophomore year after spending summer in LA. Stressed about my academic concerns and dissatisfaction with my lifestyle, I lost confidence in myself and started to rant about how much I hate this place and how lonely I felt lonely to my mom over hundreds of FaceTime calls.
I was a 19-year-old who came to this place with a big dream, lost in the middle of a bustling, busy, bright Los Angeles.
— Shyloh Koo
The Role Of Second Language Anxiety
The experts say: International students, regardless of their time spent in the United States, experience second language anxiety. They face language and communication challenges, experiencing anxiety regarding accents, keeping up with conversation, and navigating cultural references.
It was an American Dream of mine, to be 5,994 miles away from my home. The ambition to be in an advanced education system, surrounded by people with an advanced mindset and opportunities to succeed. From the start, I always had the double consciousness of being an “international student” and “foreigner.” I felt like I would not be academically thriving or as great as other peers who were born and raised in this country. I have been trapped in the thought that they would view me as a second-language speaking foreigner. My mindset has created the anxiety and nervousness to speak in English, especially in front of other classmates. Whenever it is my turn to speak, my heart pounds, my throat tightens, my brain goes blank and my voice shivers, which makes me ramble and mess up on pronunciations.
Whenever I speak in English, I have a hard time projecting my voice. After repeated experiences of seeing the professors or other native speakers frowning from being unable to hear me clearly, the insecurity of speaking out grew inside me. After a good winter break at my homeland, I made a resolution to be confident in speaking, allow for mistakes and to just be myself.
However, another comment hit me like a sharp arrow when my instructor said “people with a small voice like Shyloh.” The resolution that I have built over the winter break collapsed with growing insecurity. That day, I immediately searched up tutoring videos for Koreans to find the optimum pitch for English.
English has been a major medium in my social and academic life. Being anxious and insecure while using this language was a huge factor that dragged my mental health down to the floor.
The Boundaries Of Social Interaction
The experts say: International students often struggle with limited social interaction not only due to busy schedules but also because of the language barrier, difficulty identifying common interests with domestic peers and cultural misunderstandings. They tend to find it challenging to keep up with small talk and U.S. social norms, which can lead to loneliness and isolation, contributing to more severe mental health issues for these students.
If small talk is my worst nightmare, how could I make friends? When forming new friendships, the chemistry during the conversation is very important. However, it is hard to catch onto the jokes, nuances and flow of a conversation. I am actually a chatty and fun person to talk to, but in English, it is like I am outside of my personality. I can’t joke like I do, I can’t laugh like I do and I can’t express my feelings like I do.
It is deeper than just a social life. I use a different name for English-speaking countries, as my Korean name, Seunghyeon, is difficult to pronounce in English. I go by Shyloh, which labels my English-speaking personality. I think I should just have been myself, but in the process of adopting the language, I failed to invite myself.
Also, the experts say: Living away from your home country often stimulates shifts in students’ perceptions of their nationality and cultural practices, potentially resulting in an identity crisis.
In the modern era, embracing language involves more than just words; it encompasses adopting the culture and social trends derived from social media. Shyloh became my second persona, which I struggled to settle with. I had the temporary moment where I’ve tried so hard to look like Hailey Bieber, Kendall Jenner or Matilda Djerf, even imitating their personalities or their ways of talking. This was an effort to absorb the mainstream culture of English-speaking people, as these girls were the ‘it-girls’ and ‘trends’ in the U.S.
However, I realized that I cannot look like them because I am an Asian who has an Asian face, Asian hair and an Asian body. Realizing the discrepancy between my identity and the ‘it-girl’ led me to the disappointing realization that I cannot ‘fit’ into this language of mainstream trends.
I lost the real me in the maze of Shyloh, who tried too hard to be the mainstream girl of this country, defying my own Korean beauty, Korean personality and Korean culture.
— Shyloh Koo
The experts say: Deviation from self-expectations, academic struggles and shifts in career paths or interests can contribute to feelings of failure, intensifying the mental well-being challenges.
Being an international student is standing alone and figuring out our life, such as career path, academic grades, social life and the constant internal struggle to fit in the U.S. society from being away from home. The ideals of going to college sports games and parties, having a group of friends to hangout on the weekends and night outs, thriving with English and academic work, and maintaining a healthy life balance with assignments, rest and workouts have all been crumbling down with furious waves of reality.
The Alienation Of The International Student // The Double Life
The experts say: International students often hesitate from sharing their challenges with family members. It is due to concerns about causing worry, the perception that the family may not understand or provide effective support related to their struggles. This may create discrepancy where families believe students are enjoying their lives while they may be experiencing suffering, failure, confusion, and desperation. This can intensify feelings of loss, loneliness and isolation, which ultimately contributes to increased mental distress.
I assume this is common for international students. I never told my mom about my feelings and thoughts until the burnout really pushed me into the place where I had to talk about it. I knew that my parents wanted the best for me, which means they wouldn’t be disappointed in me for going through hardships and being unhappy in this place. However, I did not believe there would ever be a way that my parents could help me in the situation of having difficulties here. The problem of adapting to a new environment, culture and language while figuring out my academic struggle and career path at the same time was too big and unsolvable in the short term. I thought the only way was to give up everything and go back home.
Initially, I was skeptical about joining ethnic-specific societies such as the Korean society. I did not want to be too comfortable with my ethnicity and forget the goal of making diverse friends and developing my English. Maybe not. Maybe we all need a place to feel like home with people who we can connect to over our mother language. Maybe that is why there are such diverse ethnicities and communities in our campus for me and for you to find.
This story is in Capsule’s Spring 2024 collection.