Growing Up In Australia Essay

When I started this assignment, I was puzzled; Am I Chinese or am I Australian. I asked my Asian friends about their racial identity in hopes they could help me, but they didn’t know. It’s almost crazy to say that I didn’t know my own identity. I was born in Australia and both of my parents are of Chinese heritage. And after some intense and informative Google searches, I can now tell you that I am Chinese-Australian. My first language spoken was Cantonese and later I learnt English. But despite the fact that I was born and have lived in Australia my whole life; I have felt the immense pressure of just being a ‘nobody’ in society.

Thank you so much for keeping the doors of Union open. Your donation of (total amount of money they gave) aided in continuing the ministries of Union throughout the summer months. We want to reach out as the summer months wrap up and we continue to seek support.

This quarter I have reached all of my goals 3x over. I have read over 3000 pages, which eliminates my goal of over 800. I have also been reading my EMT book, and that defeats my goal of reading informational text related to my job field. Finally as you know I have been inducted into the air guard. The career field I’m going into is intelligence, and the head of my shop, Colonel Adkins, has given me an informational text to read. He I have read through a binder containing information on china, and currently I am reading a book about intelligence in the military and how it is used. Although this isn’t necessarily related to the medical field, it is still inside the scope of belonging to my career field. Also, it is a new type of challenge, one that I am not as used too.

The internship for Optimist International has turned out to be more than I could have ever expected. It all started with a bit of luck as I missed out on the initial internship that included assisting two managers that were in charge of an annual convention in New Orleans and an annual golf tournament located in Florida. Instead, I was tasked with assisting the convention director with the tasks leading up to the convention. As I settled into the internship the tasks quickly evolved in to a variety of tasks that covered a large number of aspects in the business world. In the beginning of the internship, it felt like I had to prove myself to the management involved, but as the internship moved on, I believe I gained more trust with the faculty and I began to get tasks associated directly with management. There was an onsite representative in New Orleans that was in charge of finding community service opportunities that members could participate in the buildup to convention. I was tasked with setting up the time and dates for an emergency kit assembly project for Save the Children and helping paint two rooms at a local culinary school for at-risk teens, called Café Hope. I was able to reach out to contacts with

I like your post because I don't even share the entire same opinions as the other cultural people; because that is what makes each individual unique in our own way. It is easy for me to get along with people from immigrant family and of different cultural and I must say I owe it to by diverse and multicultural background (I was born here in the United States, but I grew up I England and Nigeria; my mother is a Briton-Nigerian and my dad is a Nigerian-American). I always like to think that that gives me upper-hand with the way I view things and appreciate others; especially the ones that feel like they are outsiders, and yes, everyone now and then I get cultural shock every now and then (you can read my original post to see why). My sister

Never mistake a single mistake with a final mistake”- F. Scott Fitzgerald. When it comes to writing I have never really been good at it I have always needed a little extra help on writing a good essay. I remember always having trouble especially now that essays are expected to be excellent. I never understood the importance of writing an essay until I took INRW. This semester in INRW I have improved my writing skills by practicing paragraph structure, creating a thesis statement, and using MLA format.

Growing up as a tomboy, there was always a tough part of me. Especially, being the youngest of all of my cousins, which were all boys. The only thing they had on their minds was going to the gym, going outside, and playing basketball. I eventually grew the mindset they had, because I was around them so much. Although, I didn’t know it was going to stick with me forever.

Over the summer, I traveled nearly 600 miles away from home to work for the Pennsylvania Department of Transportation. I spent twelve weeks working forty hours with the Pennsylvania State Historic Preservation Office (PASHPO) and multiple PennDOT offices. During my internship, I updated information on over four hundred metal truss bridges, mapped historic sites using the Geographic Information System (GIS), presented several properties during Determination of Eligibility (DOE) discussions, and attended meetings with other staff members to observe the status of current ongoing projects. These tasks allowed me to experience the daily responsibilities of a CRGIS Coordinator, National Register Reviewer, and Historic Preservation Supervisor, positions that caught my attention and sparked a high level of curiosity. They also showcased how the theories I learned in my coursework can be utilized in real world situations.

I was born on August 22, 1998 in the tiny farm town of Galt. I grew up caught between two worlds: my Filipino household and my American school. When I was in primary school, I would wake up each morning to attend school at Lake Canyon Elementary, speaking English, learning from predominantly white teachers, socializing with a predominantly Mexican and White student body, and spending money on soggy, greasy American food in the cafeteria. At the end of the school day, I would return home to my parents speaking Kapampangan, say my daily prayers, and indulge in delicious Filipino food. In school, I was acutely aware of the fact that I was extremely different than the majority of the students at school. The only other Filipino at my elementary school was my cousin. At points, I was even a little embarrassed about being Filipino; for instance, when my mom offered to pack me lunch consisting of rice and Filipino food, I would decline out of fear of being different and mocked. Fortunately, as I became more assured of myself and befriended people who were a positive presence in my life, I developed more pride in my nationality. As a kid, my family was middle class. My father and mother had decent paying jobs and we were able to buy a house when I turned six. Everything changed, however, when I turned nine as the Recession impacted the United States. My dad was laid off from his job, which left my mom with the responsibility to support us with her high school education level job. It

The most difficult thing to tell anyone about me is my identity, not that there’s much there. It’s the fact that I’m a privileged white male; I have no history. The only thing about me is that I’m different than everyone else. But isn’t everybody? Many people say they’re a cat in a dog world, a fish swimming among sharks. But the reality is that yes, you are different, but everybody else is too. You are unique; everybody is. Most would say I’m idiosyncratic, a stupidly complicated synonym for weird. I do the same things as everybody else, but in my own way. For instance, in elementary school, I read around 100 books, I used to knit, I can juggle, solve a rubik’s cube and so much more.

Cultural identity: The privilege of all Australians, inside deliberately characterized breaking points, to express and share their individual social legacy, including their dialect and religion.

Walking into my fifth grade classroom for the millionth time, I searched around the room to see if there was anyone like me. A girl with chocolate skin. For as long as I can remember, I was the only one in my grade, ever since I started school. But this did not mean I did not have friends. Caterina and I were best friends that year. She was from Venezuela, had white olive skin with long blonde hair, and light eyes. One school day, when we were walking to P.E., she said to me “I like your hair because it stays in place.” A little taken back, I was not sure if this a compliment or not, but I said thank you anyway. Her comment had stayed with me for the rest of the day. I began to wonder why my hair grew the way it did and if I could change it. This was, thus the beginning of my insecurities.

At only a month old, my biological parents gave me up for adoption. Though adopted by a loving Native American mother and Hispanic father, I grew up feeling disconnected from my family. My disconnection stem from being lighter in complexion, acquiring different interests, and having other differences, which made relating to family members difficult. As a child, my mom tried sharing her Native American cultural identity by taking me to pow wows. At pow Wows, I remember seeing tribal members having a brown complexion along with dark hair performing festival dances, and thinking this could never be me. With my white complexion and light brown hair, I could never identify myself as being Native American.

Self-identity is molded as a young age, but continues to change as we get older. This is something that as we are growing up do not realize. During a person’s lifetime, many of us pause to think what influences a person’s identity. What makes us the individual that we are? I would say that it is our home, where we live with our parents and siblings. Why do we have trust in certain things? Why do we believe the way we do? I would say it is based on the way we were taught and raised a set of opinions that have been instilled in a person since they were young. I would say there are three great influences in my life that makes me who I am today my parents, my religion and my culture.

In the Book of Jeremiah chapter 31, verse 3, God dialogued with Jeremiah: “I have loved you with an everlasting love.” I believe that God created me and called me by name Vũ Đỗ (through my parents) because of that “everlasting love.” I am called to be baptized in the name of the Blessed Holy Trinity and to carry God’s mission as the disciple of the Word.