When I was growing up in America, I was ashamed of   my mother's Chinese English. Because of her Chinese English, she was often treated unfairly. People in department stores, at banks, and at restaurants did not take her seriously, did not give her good service, pretended not to understand her, or even acted as if they did not hear her. My mother realized that she was poor at English. When I was fifteen, she used to have me call people on phone to pretend I was she. I was made to ask for information or even to shout at people who had been rude to her. One time I had to call her stockbroker . I said in an adolescent  voice that was not very certain, "This is Mrs. Tan." My mother was standing beside me saying, "Why he doesn't send me check, already two weeks late." And then, in perfect English I said: "I'm getting rather worried. You agreed to send the check two weeks ago, but it hasn't arrived." My mother then talked more loudly. "What he want? I come to New York to tell him in front of his boss." And so I turned to the stockbroker again, "I can't accept any more excuse. If I don't receive the check immediately, I am going to have to speak to your manager when I am in New York next week." The next week we ended up in New York. While I was sitting there red-faced, my mother, the real Mrs. Tan, was shouting to his boss in her broken English. When I was a teenager, my mother's broken English embarrassed  me. But now, I see it differently. To me, my mother's English is perfectly clear, perfectly natural. It is my mother tongue. Her language, as I hear it, is vivid, direct, and full of observation and wisdom. It was the language that helped me see things, express ideas, and _ the world. We can know from the passage that Chinese English   _  .
is clear and natural to native speakers is well received by native speakers is widely used in America may bring inconvenience in America