Why Is It Important To Choose Southbridge?

One time I was on a bus to Beverly Hill, and I was talking to a friend on phone in Chinese. Two teenage girls at the back of the bus were imitating my pronunciation and laughing so hard, and I heard them addressing me as “chink.” I was trying to wrap my head around, because I did not understand why I was laughed at when I was just casually talking to a friend. I was mad at the girls, but then I started to think it was because they did not interact with people from other countries much. If they grew up hearing different languages, and making friends with people who have different habits, they would not find me weird. Therefore, I decided to code-switch to Mandarin in public places as much as I need to show that it is not intruding to carve out a space for my culture, and it is not on my end to shut up, but on the locals’ end to be respectful. I stay in common rooms and quads, to switch to Mandarin to talk to Chinese friends on phone or in person. I pick up phone calls from my chinese parents and talk to them in Mandarin while my boyfriend who speaks English and Hebrew is sitting next to me. I greet my Chinese classmates in Mandarin before classes start. I switch from English to Mandarin not because I love chinese culture so much

I know that he’s always watching me now. I was living life just as normally as the other 10 year old. That was until my grandpa had been acting up in the following weeks of my 11th birthday, he was not being his normal self. He underwent a CT scan in early December, and it revealed a tumor on his brain. He underwent surgery to remove the tumor and lost his beautiful, prized hair. Not many men could grow hair like he could. He was recovering well from surgery, and according to the doctors, he would have 6-12 months to live. All was well I was until I was in Fort Wayne, Indiana for a hockey tournament with my PeeWee A team 6 weeks later. My father had received a call from my mother, who was my grandpa’s daughter. She told him that a tumor had regrown behind one of his eyes, and it was the size of a softball. They had no choice but to put him on life support because the tumor rendered him brain dead, and let everyone say their goodbyes. “Feed the good wolf,” was something he would always say to us kids. He loved that saying. He lived by it. I lost the man I wanted (and still strive to) be like. He was the perfect grandfather, and although his life was taken from him at the age of 63 by some horrible disease, he lived a full life. On the dark, candle lit night of January 14th, 2012, I realized how precious life is, and I chose to “Live Like Larry.”

“The worst loneliness is to not be comfortable with yourself.” (-Mark Twain) Being a child of immigrant parents who move to American can be hard. There is a lingering feeling of not feeling like a child belongs. They are stuck in the invisible world between where their parents came from, in this specific case, Asia and where the child lives now. It can be difficult to be raised as an Asian American and learning both culture and traditions. Many Asian American kids end up deviating from the Asian culture and embracing the American culture. However, children of immigrants should embrace their own culture in order to keep traditions alive and be proud of who they are.

First of all, I am a Taiwanese American from Dallas, but I’ve also been raised in several different places than where I come from, including China, Spain and the UK. Having lived in these places made me both culturally and socially diverse. On one hand, I’ve experienced different educational systems, food, languages and knowledge about different ways of living; on the other hand, I’ve learned how to quickly adjust into new environments and thus interact with people from all over the world.

Firstly, a child of an immigrant can experience a strong disconnect between them and their native culture. In Jing-Mei Woo’s account of going to China to meet her step-sisters after her mother died, she states, “I was a sophomore at Galileo High in San Francisco, and all my Caucasian friends agreed: I was about as Chinese as they were.” This shows the disconnect between Jing-Mei Woo and her Chinese heritage. A quote from an Argentinian-American teenager from The New York Times’ article Children of Immigrants states, “I would like to say I feel comfortable calling myself an Argentinian, but every year when I return there I am reminded that I have missed huge cultural changes since I was 9, and as perfect as my Spanish may be, there are always tiny indicators to them that I am not one of them.” This quote perfectly encapsulates that same kind of disconnect that Jing-Mei Woo feels, although at a lesser degree. I can relate to this as, being a Mexican-American, I often feel not as close to Mexican culture as I should be or not as good at speaking the language as I should be.

When I came to America from China at age 16, everyone around me appeared to be different. However, I didn’t just talk to my Chinese friends. I pushed myself outside of my bubble; I tried my best to make friends with American students, while I still maintained good relationships with my Chinese friends. America is very different from what I expected, everyone speaks so fast and unclear; it almost made English a completely different language from what I had already learned. As I was trying to make friends, I realized that Chinese culture had made me different from Americans; things that I was curious about as a Chinese person were very private to American students. For example, in America, people won’t mention what their parents’ jobs are when they meet someone for the first time.

I was born in Taiwan, when I was eleven years old, my family have immigrated to a small town in Eastern Kentucky. Moving from a mostly homogeneous society to a heterogeneous society was quite a change for our family, it has also open my eyes to culture conflicts. Growing up, I’ve define my race as Asian, and my ethnicity as Taiwanese-American, at home my parents speak mainly Mandarin Chinese and Taiwanese, and we ate mostly Taiwanese food at home, however I have been socialized and adapted into the American culture in school, and with my peers. Consequently, as I grow older, I’ve identify myself with both culture and heritages. I have made an effort to not forget my native languages and my native culture values, instead, I’ve try my best to make the best out of both cultures.

Her most recent trip to Berlin was not pleasant because she felt out of place. She felt incompetent because she could not understand street signs in Germany. In addition, the culture and the food were unfamiliar. Her grandfather on her dad’s side immigrated to the US from German in the World War II and never visited German afterward. She felt that she might be influenced by his unpleasant experience of his original country. Sue also shared her limited experience with the Chinese people over her high school and graduate school. She had a Chinese classmate in high school whose parents owned a restaurant. Her classmate was born in the US and had no accent. In graduate school, Sue had a classmate who came from China. Sue had little trouble understanding her English. Sue feels interaction with people of another culture at a personal level helped her to know that every individual is different even though they may look similar. Although she did encounter some challenging foreigners, she understands it is not an issue of a certain ethnic group but a general human

Throughout my childhood, it was a normal occurrence to hear three different languages in a single conversation. My father’s native language is Korean and my mother’s native language is Chinese. From my upbringing, I got to witness one of the struggles of an immigrant, which is learning English. Although my parents’ English is very good now, it took many years of practice. I often had to serve as a translator for my parents in public settings early on in my life. Not knowing English should not have to be a source of shame for an immigrant. However, I saw the embarrassment on my parents’ faces when I had to translate publicly for them. They worked endlessly every night in their college classes to become proficient in English, a skill that is easy for native speakers to take for granted. It made me realize the obstacles that immigrants face. To this day, my parents are still self-conscious about their speaking abilities. It has even influenced my mother’s career prospects. She has decided not to progress in her career, which requires teaching because she is afraid people will not like being taught by her because of her accent. Language is required to gain friendships, good jobs, and ultimately the power to

As a child, I did not have many friends, I was bullied throughout my entire childhood which caused me to shut most of the world out. I began to seclude myself from everything and everyone, except my grandfather. My grandfather quickly became my security blanket, my shoulder to cry on, and my best friend. He spent most of his time comforting me and telling me that I was too precious for this world. After a while, I began to believe those words and my confidence grew immensely. However, at the raw age of thirteen, my grandfather was diagnosed with stage three brain cancer and was given only a year to live. At that point, everything started to decay for me. I did not care about anything anymore, whether that was school, my family, or myself.

He was generous, he made sure that his nieces and nephews, should not lack anything. I remember taking me to vacations, buying me gifts, paying my tuition and buying toys for kids. One day I spent a night in my uncle’s house, in the morning I overheard him arguing with his wife. I didn't had an idea why they were arguing. He left home for work. After two hours, I heard the house phone ringing and I answered the phone, the call was from my uncle’s job. They told me my uncle was rushed to the hospital. I went to the hospital upon my arrival the nurse told me that he is no more. It was brain aneurysm got

It took me years before I was able to fit in to this society completely; however, unlike other young first generation immigrants, I still held on to my Chinese background. I spoke Chinese at home and stayed in contact with families and friends from China. I was like any other Chinese teenagers. I listened to Chinese music, read Chinese books, and watched Chinese movies. I also enjoyed eating home cooked Chinese dishes. I was also like any other American teenagers. I listened to western music, read English books, and watched American movies. At school, I ate hamburgers and fries and at restaurants, I ordered pastas and

Growing up surrounded by idealized American values and my mother’s traditional Chinese-Vietnamese principles challenged my identity as a first-generation Asian American. I excelled in school. I pushed myself to join programs such as Paideia, an English course integrated with history to attain higher levels of critical thinking. Despite being academically independent, my good grades and interest in English demonstrated how well I understood the language. Cantonese, the language I used to communicate with my mom, was an entirely different story. Because my mother would work night shifts and then sleep during the day, we could barely spend any time together, creating a lack of communication. I eventually lost my fluency in Cantonese. During Christmas,

With my dad being Caucasian, and my mom Chinese, I was fortunate enough to experience two completely different cultures at a young age. Even though I reside in California, where diversity is a natural occurrence, I still believed that some people sought to place counterfeit stereotypes on ethnic groups. Many of the stereotypes placed on Chinese people has to do with the fact that we are strict, especially parents. In spite of that impression, I wasn’t raised with strict parents. They both wanted me to choose my own path in life, and explore my different interests. However, a lot of my classmates, who are of asian descent, were not given the same kind of opportunities that I had. For an English presentation that we had to do about the meaning

I was born in Hong Kong and moved alone to Taiwan to live with my grandmother when I was 12. I struggled to learn the language, Mandarin, and to live and learn alongside children from a very different culture. I was like some alien from outer space in Taiwan – generating stares but not acceptance. However, by being open minded about both my potential and the potential of this little island, I succeeded in adapting. I spoke back to the television set to practice Mandarin; I read books and watched videos to learn Taiwan's culture, history, and literature; and I helped my fellow classmates in our