Personal Narrative: My Experience With The Loss Of Personal Identity

Decent Essays
Growing up in a primarily Mexican and Latino community, I never connected with my Korean heritage or adopted the Mexican culture. Between school and home, I was stuck in a clash of cultures. At school, I celebrated Cinco de Mayo and Day of the Dead and struggled to sing the Spanish lyrics that we were “expected to have learned from family”. But, that wasn’t the culture I knew at home where we celebrated Chuseok and ate kimchi with chopsticks. Even then, I felt isolated from my heritage when Korean elders rebucked me for not being “more Korean”. Rejected from my own people, I didn’t feel like I had an identity in either culture. I felt disconnected from my family, my friends, and my community.
My parents must have noticed (or maybe they just wanted me to leave the house more) because they quickly signed me up for Tae Kwon Do lessons. As if I wasn’t already enough of an Asian stereotype to my classmates. I remember my seven-year-old self hiding in the hallway peeking her head out. Little did I know that day that the dojang would become a second home and a place of refuge where I forged my identity.
Learning Tae Kwon Do not only brought me
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The belt was a simple design, one half black and one half white. When worn, each half showed on the front while around the waist, the white half was tucked behind the black. The black was a representation of the future; it was proof of how close I was to becoming a master. But, the white was there as a reminder to remain humble. Everyone begins at a white belt; it’s a mark of a novice, clumsy and incapable. My skills were the result from failing hundreds of times to perfect a technique and practicing over and over to execute a strong kick. Even after training for years and teaching those below me, I was still very much a novice compared to the old
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