Personal Narrative: My Growing Up As A Hmong-American Student

As a member of a working class community, my life has been a struggle between resources and opportunities available for me. Having sparse resources has lead me to the constant push of working towards the things I’ve achieved. Social identities have become a guidance for my future goals and abilities. Being working class Latina, raised in a Catholic family has created many barriers and pathways into the future I wish to hold. Furthermore, taking all the social identities I have grew into have become the bases for my educational goals and identity.

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.

During the summer before my freshmen year of high school, one of the most significant changes in my life occurred: I moved from the busy, populated city of Arlington, Texas to the rural, “all- white” Jackson County, Tennessee. Believe it or not, the first three words that I heard during my first day attending Jackson County High School were, “Are you Asian?” Shortly after my first appearance, I was given the nickname Chow, which has stuck throughout my entire high school incumbency. At first I was really unsure of how I felt about this name, and many of my teachers worried that I would be offended by it. However, as I ventured from being the new kid in town to getting to know most of the people in this “all- white” county, I’ve come to embrace

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.

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.

I am Hmong-American student, I am seventeen years old. My hometown is in Wausau Wisconsin in the United States. I attend Wausau West High School and it will be my last year. My relationship with my family is great.

I was raised in a traditional Vietnamese household where the sharp, lingering taste of bitter melon was a treat, family was everything, and everyone spoke Vietnamese. However, I lived in a community where speaking English was the majority and I was very clearly, a minority. There were hardly any other people who spoke Vietnamese where I lived. Because of this, I slowly lost my grasp with the Vietnamese language and my ability to communicate with my family This was terrifying for me; as a result, I have made efforts to learn and speak Vietnamese even though it sounds horrendous because I still have a voice and want to be heard.

I transferred to Pace two and a half years ago. Before, I was enrolled Caldwell College in New Jersey. The school was mostly populated with typical Caucasian students and a low ratio of African-American students; therefore there was not much diversity. I am an individual that enjoys learning about other cultures and traditions. At Caldwell, I did not feel any type of disrespect towards my race/culture like Jessie.

Throughout my whole life, I’ve been bullied and even though at a young age around eight you still get bullied. I went to a Native American school and at that time I was a lighter color than the other students and they would call me names. I continued to go there until about fifth grade and I was continually bullied then I went to a different school, there I was hoping for a good time but I soon would discover the truth. Sixth grade wasn’t the best year of my life, but it certainly wasn’t the worst even though at my old school the Native American one I had good grades, but sixth grade my grades were dropping that started a streak that would continue for a while.

The world is filled with people, and like snowflakes, each person is not the same as another. Each person identifies with different aspects of their lives to create their own personal identities. I personally identify with my Italian side of my family to help form who I am today. I have found myself connecting with this side more so than the other parts of my identity. It affects how I live my life by becoming the center to the culture surrounding me.

From this day, I still remember how lonely I felt and how badly I wanted to be accepted. I dreaded to go to recess because I wasn't sure what type of crowd I would “ fit in” with. As I walked in class, I saw everyone divided into various cliques and eventually I found myself every week trying to fit in with a different one. I tried my best to act like those kids in order to fit in, I changed so many things such as my attitude, my clothing, my hairstyles and how I spoke in the span of one year. I was so desperate to feel like I was not alone and had real friends that I basically would’ve done anything for others to like me.

Now generally speaking, I wasn’t the most talkative person. If I was in a classroom with kids I didn’t familiarize with, I wouldn 't engage unless spoken to. Though I wouldn’t categorize myself as anti-social, but instead someone who pretty much keeps to themselves. Strangely enough, I wanted to obtain more friends and engage in conversation with ease. Days go by in my head thinking, “oh

There I became more independent. Once shy, I developed the confidence to step up to make an array of interesting friends and readily ask classroom questions important to me to broaden my knowledge, even though they may have seemed obtuse to my global peers. These experiential lessons led to my practicing public speaking by working in sales at a phone store. This was particularly significant as my transition from a once very quiet, introvert was complete when I exceeded not only my own, but everyone else’s sales

Asians are educated in multiple languages at the same time being compared to some Americans who only know one language. Asians seem to be more educated, because they are required to know more than Americans. Asians are educated to live up to a high standard to rise above the line that does not exist. For example, Omatsu explains the roller coaster road of changes of Asian American neoconservatives through social movement and the struggle of racism in America since 1965. Everyone knows what it is like to be bullied seems to always find another way they can be accepted by a group.

Around the age of fifteen, I was living with social anxiety so severe that it had caused me to stop going school. I avoided any challenging social situations. It was around this time that alcohol quickly took hold of me by providing relief from anxiety and making me more outgoing. I began spending my time with