MEMOIR: INTERVIEW WILLIAM WU I 'm a first generation Asian-American. I was born in Lima, Peru, right before my parents came to America from China, and we moved to America when I was one. Growing as a first generation American, my parents worked a lot. I can 't say that I wasn 't loved, but my bond with my parents was weak because I was always home alone, being babysat by others, or going out because they had to work. As a child, I would do things like steal from my mother 's wallet and use the money on those claw machines with the stuffed animals. A few times, I poured out all of the body soap and shampoo into the drain. Looking back to it now, I realize that I only did these things because I wanted attention from my parents. I remember one …show more content…
But - one of the things related to sports is that a lot of people get injured, and they get into depression and they hit rock bottom. When I was 16, I pulled a muscle while I was training. There was a tear in the muscle, and surgery was too expensive and could possibly cause long-lasting problems, so I decided to wait for it to heal. At that point, I didn 't have enough money and help to take care of my injury and help continue my tennis career once I got better. Sports are expensive, especially if you want to go on a national/international level. You have to pay for a nutritionist, physical therapist, coach, all the people that support you. It took two to three years for the muscle to really fully heal, and by that time, it was too late. And when I came to this realization that my dream of becoming a professional tennis player would never come true, I went through the process of overcoming depression and grief. There was a slight moment of "Now I can 't play tennis, what should I do? What am I supposed to do with my life right now?" My coping mechanism was coaching tennis. Those two years were the toughest years of my life, filled with sorrow and disappointment. The healing process was long and slow. But, after all the wounds healed and there was only the occasional aching of the muscle left, I realized that life isn 't filled with dead ends. Even if you think that there 's only one path for you, you can always stray away from the path if that 's what
A History of Asian Americans, Strangers From a Different Shore, written by Ronald Takaki, displays an extensive history of Asian Americans as he combines a narrative story, personal recollection and spoken assertions. As long as we can remember, many races such as the Chinese, Filipinos, Koreans, Vietnamese and Japanese have dealt with some type of discrimination upon arriving to the United States. A particular part in the book, Chapter 11, mainly focuses on Asian immigrants and Southeast Asian refugees from the 1960s to the 1980s that were treated as the “strangers at the gate again.” Ronald Takaki refers to them as “strangers at the gate again” as a figure of speech for the people who are from Asian background who have struggled to settle in the United States, only to find out that old
Growing up as Hmong-American youth, I was raised by a father who joined the military when he was twelve years old. He was forced into the Vietnam war fighting for safety, peace, and a relationship with the United States of America. Through this military influence and discipline at such a young age, my father accepted the military lifestyle. He carried it over from the Vietnam war to my family today. Growing up, my father was always strict on me, especially when it came to my appearances and education.
Growing up in California, my whole life has been around farming and like many others, it’s how I make a living. It’s now been at least a year, living through the Dust bowl and many people have migrated to California with the hope of surviving this crisis. Keeping my crops has become a struggle and that's what most people including me depend on. I am lucky enough to be able to pay my mortgages even though I’m not able to keep the land with the help of family. It’s practically impossible.
Upon meeting me, not many people know that I am a first generation American. However, they are usually interested in the orgin of my last name. I am in fact Ukranian. Both my parents and my older sister were born in Ukraine. They immigrated to America in 1992 because of religious persecution that they were facing.
Growing up as a first-generation Mexican American was a huge advantage for me in that it allowed me to grow up in a culturally diverse community. I learned how to work well with people of all backgrounds and empathize with people from all walks of life. However, while being the first in my family to go to college was a momentous accomplishment, the lack of instruction and guidance lead me to commit many mistakes that could have been easily avoided during my first years at college. My timidity and downright arrogance lead me to believe that I did not need anyone’s assistance and thus I found myself denial that there was a problem in terms of my grades during my first semesters. I have since addressed this issue and have worked diligently to
This paragraph from Kesaya Noda’s autobiographical essay “Growing Up Asian in America” represents the conflict that the author feels between her Japanese ethnicity, and her American nationality. The tension she describes in the opening pages of her essay is between what she looks like and is judged to be (a Japanese woman who faces racial stereotypes) versus what she feels like and understands (life as a United States citizen). This passage signals her connection to Japan; and highlights her American upbringing. At this point in the essay, Noda is unable to envision her identity as unified and she describes her identity as split by race.
Growing up in an immigrant household in America, was difficult. I didn’t live, I learned to adapt. I learned to adapt to the fact that I did not look like any of my peers, so I changed. Adapted to the fact that my hair texture would never be like any of my peers, so I changed. Adapted to the fact that I was not as financially well off as my peers, so I changed.
As a teenager moving to a new country with a different culture, different language, and being thousands of miles away from everyone I grew up with was not an easy change, however, that was precisely what I did in January of 2013 when I came to the United States with my father. My whole world changed since, and shaped my way of thinking. From learning English, adjusting to a new culture, experiencing my first snow and finding my way in my new country, my life has been an exciting adventure. My parents brought me to America almost 5 years ago to have a better life, and to get a better education.
Life as a Native American sucks. I realized this when I was a little kid. I’ve come to accept that what other people label or describes us as are true. I’m not happy to admit this they are right. My people don’t do anything to prove these people’s claims, or better known as stereotypes, about Native Americans wrong.
I used to have this grudges in my heart when everything go hard that would made me wanted to blame my parent. But I can’t because I was not raise to think that way. When I come to America, I was eleven years old and no one asked me if I wanted to come it just happen in a second. I was in a cold place with extended family that I never met before and that one person who raise me and made me feel secure was still back in the country. I had to lived months without her and next thing you know I adapted and convince myself they are doing this because the wanted the best for me.
Everyone travels in their own direction, but where that leads them, can only be determined by their own
I look around my room, on one corner of my desk, there is a framed picture of a smiling Asian family that is hidden behind textbooks and the Scarlet Letter. SAT material is scattered on the floor. On the wall is Chinese brush painting and a poster of The Eagles. Am I Chinese or American?
As the world becomes more and more interconnected through globalization, it becomes less and less viable to avoid contact with the “other” peoples of the world – namely the rich cultures of Asia that have flown well under the radar of Western minds for the last two millennia. I think that the Asian American Studies course provides one with tools for learning to respect the pluralism of cultures in our world, and to appreciate the benefit of cross-cultural study upon one’s own understanding of the world. The course was an eye opener for me as it presents counter arguments to what I accepted as a fact. It also provided understanding to the roots of Asian history in the U.S and possible historical reasons for causes of racial discrimination. By
I kept pushing through and finish basketball season up. Probably almost everyday I came home upset and was angry. I got benched half of my playing time therefor also I wasn’t happy. Like Wwho would wants to be benched?. Also I recognized that my happiness mattered.
Do not constrict yourself for others. Discover your own path, just as I did, and make choices that are true to you. Nevertheless, whatever you choose, know that you are so