I’m not sure how to conclude the year I spent in Tahoe
I’m not sure how to conclude the year I spent in Tahoe. Of course I got asked the do you guys eat dogs question. There were many other questions involving many other things as well, from both sides, me to them, and them to me. South Tahoe was a rather small community, everyone seemed to know everyone, yet here I was, wondering how everyone knew I was the new kid on my first day while riding the school bus.
Everything was unfamiliar, yet somewhat made sense. I could talk my way out of a class, even though most of the times I failed. I could disappear after lunch, only to sit in a Rotary Club meeting with all the grandparents, and watch them play the lottery. I won often, even when I didn’t, the grandmas always gave me part of their winnings. I would miss my stop on a school bus on my way home, until the driver started picking up elementary school kids. I lost my phone in a gondola in Heavenly and found it buried in the snow. I drank with people who definitely should not be friends with high schoolers in a hotel across the stateliness in Nevada. I auditioned for cheerleading and failed. I joined the swim team, but couldn’t wake up early enough to go to practice. I did track for a week, and got yelled at for halfass-ing. I read through 1984 and it did not make sense to me, until many years later, I realized my parents were living a very similar life. I joined a youth conference in Chico, cried and laughed and shared and supported many other high schoolers from California who also felt like they didn’t belong.
I went to a synagogue in LA, witnessed a baby being welcomed to the Jewish community with hundreds of people’s blessings. I flew to Boston and took the train around by myself. I rode a cable car to Chinatown in San Fransisco only to get some grandma sauce. I was left in the mountains of Heavenly, 16, completely forgotten on a ski trip. I had to ask for a British man to give me a ride, who clearly didn’t understand the request, “A ride? A lift? You mean? “ I’m not sure who the front desk at Heavenly had to call after looking up my membership plan, but nobody seemed to feel sorry when they finally came to pick me up after 4 hours. Coincidence? I’m not so sure.
My mom was always so quick to blame me when anything came up. It’s either “you probably did something to upset them” or “ you were always so rude when you were home, you probably deserved it”, or “you should be thinking from their perspective, who would want to pick you up ? “ I can literally see her mouth opening and closing, babbling, like a fish. For some reason, my mom had always enjoyed inflicting pain on me. She took every opportunity to belittle me, and I hate to admit it, it did get me. It would get me every time that I completely gave up on opening up, not just to her, to everyone.
It’s better that way. It’s safer that way. It’s easier that way. And for a long time, it was. It was easy to just go along with what everyone was already doing, whether it’d be volunteering in the national park, or dancing to Kpop in the garage, or going to all-you-can eat sushi for $20, or even prom, I did nails for the first time in my life. It was fun, it was easy, people didn’t care what I was thinking, what I was doing, what I liked, what I wanted to talk about, how honest I was, how different I was. Even though most of the stereotyping was not too far from the truth, most people were willing to learn more.
I had space, to learn, to explore, to try and fail, so much so that I saw another possibility of life.
ChatGPT 翻译：
我不知道该如何总结我在太浩湖度过的那一年。
当然，我被问过“你们是不是吃狗”这种问题。也有很多其他问题，关于各种各样的事情，双方都有：我问他们，他们问我。南太浩是个相当小的社区，每个人似乎都认识彼此，而我第一天坐校车去上学时就在想，他们到底是怎么都知道我是“新来的”。
一切都很陌生，但又多少有些道理。我可以靠说话逃课——尽管大多数时候失败了。我可以在午饭后人间蒸发，跑去参加扶轮社的会议，和一群爷爷奶奶坐在一起看他们买彩票。我经常中奖，即使没中，奶奶们也总会分我一点她们的奖金。我会在放学的校车上坐过站，直到司机开始接小学生我才发现。我在Heavenly的缆车上丢过手机，结果在雪里找回来了。我也和一些绝对不该跟高中生混在一起的人在内华达州那边的旅馆里喝过酒。
我试过参加拉拉队选拔，没选上。我加入过游泳队，但早上总起不来去训练。我也跑过一星期田径，结果被教练骂我不认真。我看完了《1984》，当时一点都看不懂，直到很多年后，我才意识到我爸妈其实就生活在那样的状态里。我参加了在Chico举办的一个青少年会议，哭了、笑了、分享了、支持了来自加州各地、同样感觉格格不入的高中生们。
我去过洛杉矶的一个犹太教堂，亲眼见证了一个婴儿被无数人的祝福迎进犹太社群。我一个人飞去波士顿，还坐着火车到处逛。我坐着缆车去了旧金山的唐人街，只是为了买一点老奶奶做的辣酱。我也曾在Heavenly山上的滑雪场被完全遗忘，16岁，没人记得我在那儿。我只能求助一个英国人载我下山，他明显听不懂：“A ride? A lift? 你是说？”我不知道Heavenly的前台查了我的会员信息之后到底是打给了谁，但等了四个小时，终于有人来接我时，没人表现出一点点愧疚。巧合？我不太确定。
我妈总是很快就把责任推给我。不是“你肯定哪里惹到别人了”，就是“你在家那么没礼貌，你活该”，或者“你也得站在别人角度想，谁愿意来接你？”我甚至能清楚地看到她那张嘴一张一合，叽叽喳喳地说个不停，就像一条鱼。也不知道为什么，我妈好像总喜欢让我难受。她逮住每一个机会贬低我，而我很不想承认的是——她真的影响到我了。每一次都能击中我，让我彻底放弃表达，不只是对她，对所有人。
这样比较好。这样比较安全。这样比较轻松。而且确实，很长一段时间就是这样。跟着大家已经在做的事情一起做，真的很简单。无论是去国家公园做志愿者，还是在车库里跳K-pop，还是去吃20美元一位的自助寿司，甚至是去舞会——我人生第一次做了指甲。这些都很快乐，很简单。没人关心我在想什么、在做什么、喜欢什么、想聊什么、有多坦诚、有多不一样。
即使有些刻板印象其实也不算完全错，大多数人都愿意进一步了解我。
我有空间，去学习、去探索、去尝试和失败——足够多到让我看到另一种人生的可能。