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FROM THE MARGINS | BY PATRICK AZADIAN
Los Angeles Times Valley Edition | Glendale News-Press | March 10 2007

Unlikely catalysts for adjustment

It was the late '70s and I had just been dropped in the middle of Hiram Johnson High School in Sacramento. Naturally, I had little in common with the locals. In the absence of Armenian-American students at my school, there were few people who could serve as catalysts for adjustment.

The closest thing I could find to help me make the transition were the "fresh off the jumbo jet" (FOJJ) students. There were the Koreans, the Serbs and the occasional Vietnamese students who helped me learn the ropes.

Regardless of our ethnicity or religious backgrounds, we had much in common. As the first rule of being a high school student is to be able to fit in with the larger population, we weren't always willing to openly admit to our common traits. Sometimes the silly thought of staying away from one another also made us think we were fitting in. Yet fitting in took time, it was not an overnight process.

On the first day of school, standing in line at the cafeteria, I noticed some of the Asian students were friendly to me. Later on I found out the group was mainly comprised of Korean students who'd been in Sacramento for a few years. Although we did not share much in our physical features, we had a lot in common. For starters, we all dressed up to come to school. It wasn't until my senior year that I discovered Levi jeans (with zippers only), a white T-shirt and the now-classic Nike sneakers were as cool as designer jeans and an Adidas T-shirt.

We were also a bit too serious about our studies. Which of course, did not contribute to being very popular in the high school party scene.

Whether we liked it or not, our common values and sheer necessity brought us together at some point.

A couple of days after my cafeteria experience, I found my way to the gym to see how I could sign up for tryouts on the soccer team. I was greeted at the gym by an assistant coach/caretaker nicknamed Poncho. If my memory serves me right, Poncho was an Italian-American with what I thought was a heavy Brooklyn accent. My English was still primitive.

The only thing I could say was: "Register for soccer team." And with a couple of teeth missing, Poncho's response was: "You ain't eligible."

So back I went to the registrar's office, and back they sent me to the gym again. This process went on for two days, and every time I would end up at a dead end named Poncho with the same answer: "You ain't eligible."

And there came Dui Tu to my rescue. Dui was a Vietnamese student who had been in the U.S. before. He seemed to have good command of the English language. Seeing me in despair, he pulled me aside and explained to me that I wouldn't be eligible until I got my physical. He came along with me to the nurse's office and once I had the clearance, he escorted me back to Poncho.

Poncho greeted me with open arms and a smile: "OK, now you are eligible." Dui had rescued me from "FOJJ anxiety."

And then there was Jim Chang from South Korea, who was in my architectural drafting class. We were on the soccer team together.

Summers back home were a source of excitement, but as a FOJJ individual who was not familiar with my new surroundings, my first summer was a drab affair. We all knew there was a lot happening out there, but we were often bystanders to the fun. It was at times like this when Jim and his Korean friends came to the rescue.

One of the activities that added an occasional excitement to my first summer was a soccer match that Jim and I organized between the local Koreans and the Armenians. It was, of course, inevitable that the first game did not end on a good note. Get two groups of young men from two different parts of the world in a competitive sport and you have the perfect formula for a squabble. To add insult to the injury, we lost the match 8-0.

It was the last time we would lose to the Koreans, and the beginning of a series of many friendly games that added spice to our new existence.

Adjustment and acculturation took time, but people like Jim and Dui made the transition easier.

Copyright 2007 Glendale News Press