Personal Narrative: Asian Parent Stereotypes

I grew up in California, born to Chinese immigrants who began their American dream by working as dish washers at a shifty restaurant in Oregon. From there, my father worked his way up by fixing machines ranging from dumpling assemblers to oil rigs on the ocean that took him away from home for months while my mother became confined to bed rest due to chronic illness. Thinking back, I distinctly remember the vague acknowledgement of poverty in our family. Whenever I asked for jejune luxuries such as toys, mother appeased me by promising that we could maybe buy it once my brother joined us in America. Unable to obtain a green card for my older brother, they had to leave him behind in China under the care of our grandparents. At six years old, I met him for the first time and immediately found that I was unable to converse with him. The cultural and language barrier was already evident in our family. Throughout the years, my family’s economic disparity lessened, but our cultural and language gap burgeoned. I can attest to the truth of Asian parent stereotypes; they

Out of great respect for my parents and for the medical professionals impacting lives around the world, I would consider it an honor to follow such a distinguished career path. However, there must be more in the world than just the money that doctors make. Having spent most of my day around teachers for the past eleven years, I have developed a greater appreciation for the many fantastic educators that I have been blessed to have. I hope to someday have an impact on future generations just as my former and current teachers have had on today’s young adults. However, at this point in my life, I find it impossible to make a clear cut decision, because both prospects equally intrigue me. Why not do both? I optimistically believe that I will find my true passion later on in my life, most likely while attending a university that aids in my