Reflective Essay : Being A Vietnamese

As a proud second generation Vietnamese American, I proudly associate myself with my Catholic Vietnamese community. Like all members in my group, we are indoctrinated with the typical immigrant values of perseverance, freedom, and respect for others and our cultural identity. The church that binds us together, Our Lady of Lavang, is the center where most of the Catholic Vietnamese Community gathers all over West Michigan. Since the 1st grade, I went through the Church's school program every Sunday to learn about Christian moral values, Vietnamese traditions, and language. These lessons has heavily influenced my outlook on life, enabling me to use faith to build confidence with myself, maintain integrity, and to love and respect every individual.

As a little girl born in Vietnam and having grown up in poverty, I can understand the struggles that many other unprivileged Vietnamese families experience. At a young age my family and I immigrated to the United States for a better life. My parents have always put their best efforts into educating my siblings and I about the importance of giving back to the community. Growing up in a foreign environment, I was able to distinguish and grasp the opportunities I would have missed out on if I had not immigrated to the U.S. My background inspired me to aid those who I would have possibly been in the same shoes if I wasn’t as fortunate to have immigrated. This community service trip to me was not only a bucket list wish I had wished to accomplish, but it as well allowed

I am Vietnamese-American. I am part of the largest population of refugee children in American history, and one of the first of its community to be born in the American culture. With no prior generation in my ethnic group, I have faced the stresses of growing up Vietnamese and as an American. I faced the effects of acculturation throughout my life, and I have watched my parents’ health deteriorate. Both are borderline diabetic and have multiple vascular diseases. When I learned how chronic diseases were more prevalent among minorities from low socioeconomic classes, it all made sense. My family was a prime example. Since then, I have looked at my life in a different perspective and wanted to help people like my family to control and manage our health. In addition, when I visited Vietnam when I was 22, I was shocked to discover that my young female cousins were already parents and had several previous miscarriages. Subsequently, I came to realize the ongoing health crisis around women’s health in Vietnam and other developing countries. Thus, I also wanted to help women make healthier choices regarding their reproductive health.

I was born at Vietnam, but I have two different heritages inside me, Chinese and Vietnamese. Growing up at Vietnam, my family was strict on certain things, such as the rules living at home, while lenient on other things,

My family on the same car with my uncle, the other on the same car with Steven. The traffic congestion is common in Chicago. But, that was really bustling for newcomers. On the road, there was many dead animals like: deer, skunk, and raccoon. We got home at 7:00pm. This time in Vietnam, the sun had already set, but not here. “It will set at 9:00 pm” my uncle said. My first impression about that house was that is a big and smell good inside. The first Vietnamese American is Kim Nguyen, she cooked many Asian foods for us as chicken soup, chicken salad squeeze, Vietnamese salad… because she knows we could not eat American food on the first day. I was guided downstairs because I couldn’t eat or do something right now. A sleep will probably

There were two guarantees for a Mississippi summer. One: everything felt perpetually damp. Two: you'd meet some interesting characters, especially in the areas around the Louisiana border where the populations only totaled in the few hundred and the average person quit school after 6th grade.

Durian fruit. When people ask me how I feel about my Vietnamese culture, the first thing that comes to mind is durian fruit. Unlike the strawberries or cherries found at Safeway, durian fruit at first glance does not even look edible. The entire fruit resembles a dirty old football, except that durian weighs nearly three pounds. One-inch spikes and a tough brown outer peel cover the fruit, giving it an intimidating look. Inside, yellow, kidney-shaped pieces line the peel like orange slices. As a child, I hated durian. I refused to even taste it. Later on, when I was older, my mother bribed me with two dollars to try the meaty flesh. I fell in love with the fruit instantly. Its heavenly aroma tantalized

As a Colorado native, I gaze at the sun setting on the distant mountains, watch Aspen trees change color, and appreciate the complexity of snowflakes. This state has always captivated my sense of wonder. While this unquenchable curiosity permeates my whole life, it is most visible in my diverse undergraduate studies – majors in molecular biology and sociology with minors in chemistry, math, and leadership studies. Even more fundamental to my identity, though, is my Vietnamese heritage. Growing up, I ate dinner with three generations at table, tended to my grandparents, and fulfilled my responsibility as the oldest child. This upbringing taught me the importance of cultivating relationships. Moreover, circumstances within my family – such as

I was in my car when it happened. I was just a normal 11 year old kid looking out the window at the night traffic. I was coming back from my religion class, on a normal Friday like usual. But everything after that day changed, I was not going to be a normal 11 year old boy anymore, I was not going to be coming back from religion class on a normal Friday, My life was going to change. And that change started with a war.

Being truly Vietnamese is something I have yet to achieve. Both my parents are Vietnamese and they have grew up in our homeland for years before deciding to move to America. I have lived in America all my life and instead taught bits and pieces of Vietnamese history and culture that I learned while trying to focus on living life in America. I might know how to speak and read some Vietnamese, but that is not what I believe being Vietnamese amounts to. I believe that being Vietnamese is knowing and being proud of their rich history, being able to make contributions to the world around them and persevering in the face of adversity. Although I try to make contributions of my own because I believe in making a difference, I can only work with the Vietnamese community if I want to contribute towards it.

This essay argues that culture is diverse, non-static and shared – all three components that form its characteristics. These characteristics of culture showcased in the three visual materials are supported by the course materials,

I am Vietnamese, and I came to the US six years ago. I am always inspire and proud of my Vietnamese culture. I lived in Vung Tau city in Vietnam before I came here, it is a beautiful place and famous for the beaches. Even Though Vietnam is a developing country, it is a place with diverse cuisines, magnificent scenery, and a country of hospitality. Food in Vietnam are diverses according to the regions such as North, South and Central. My dad’s family is from Bac Ninh, Ha Noi, but I was born and grew up in the South. The influences of the North cuisine is still happening in my family because my dad is the main cook in the house. Street food in Vietnam is an indispensible thing that can not miss in a paper like this. I love Xoai Lac, Banh Trang

She never thought of herself as a broken or a weak person, but that is exactly what she was, exactly what they all were. Broken children tossed into the cruel harsh world, into a war they should have never been a part of, yet they had been. Each and everyone of them had done things to survive things they could never undo or unseen. Would the things they've done define who they are, would that be all that is left of them when they are older? Would the things happened on the ground be the only things they think about or would they simply forget all they've done, cast it aside to focus on the overwhelming joy they felt be back on the ground once again? These were the thoughts that she had, more often now that it grew closer to the day they were set to return to the ground.

Vietnamese culture is a mysterious to most people outside the country itself. As countries like Vietnam start to modernize more people are traveling in hopes of getting to know how fascinating Vietnamese culture is. With 6 religions and exotic food Vietnam pools in tourist looking to branch out and explore the possibilities. From how they identify themselves to how they to how they use symbolism in their words. Like every country Vietnam takes pride in its National Identity, a strong Asian culture with a rich history and even richer language with its endless number of adjectives and proverbs that are enshrined within it.

I was adopted from Vietnam when I was 2 months and a half. My parent often offered me to visit my country of origins but never felt the need to. They also frequently talked to me about my roots and the story of my adoption. My mother and my father even asked me if I wanted to take some Vietnamese class in case I ever wanted to visit Viet Nam. I told them no, that I did not need to. So therefore, I never learned to speak Vietnamese and kind of lost my ancestral language. Even if I was young when I took this decision, I still do not regret it. To be honest, I do not feel a particular connection with Viet Nam; the only things that remind me of my Asian origins are my almond black eyes and my dark hair. Even if I had learned to speak Vietnamese,