The haircut I had was also very similar to that of my friends. I spoke
like them and adopted their ways. I wanted no longer to be Asian. I hated that
part of me. I just wanted to be “American.” I hoped that by doing everything
they did and following their ways, I would be accepted despite the fact that I
wasn’t white. It was not until fifth grade that I began to grow more aware of my
changed behavior. A new student, Bradford Chin, was enrolled into my class.
Bradford reminded me of myself when I first came- conservative, traditional, and
very studious. Not knowing any better, I felt somewhat embarrassed around him. I
believed that his appearance would be a reminder to everyone of the person I was
before. Because of this I ignored and avoided him as often as I could.One day, I
was eating lunch with my friends and I glanced over towards Brad. I noticed he
was eating one of my favorite Chinese pastries, “Dan-Tat.” Just the thought of a
nibble of that sweet, delicious pastry conjured up a childhood memory of me when
I sat in a bakery in Chinatown, enjoying the delicious aroma of fresh buns and
eating a “Dan-Tat” of my own. I summoned enough courage for me to go visit him.
I approached him slowly, and asked him for a small piece of the sweet
treasure and he happily offered me some. I spent the rest of lunch hour chatting
with him. I found out that we have much in common. We both love model airplanes,
reading books on rainy days, and girls with skirts. We found our parents to be
very similar in both their values and beliefs. We soon became great friends and
as our friendship became stronger, I felt I was rediscovering myself. Through
him, I found the strength to revive my long forgotten past. I was afraid to
discuss my past with any of my Caucasian friends for fear of being treated
differently. Bradford understood that and pointed out that I was like my
Caucasian friends before I met him, and that we became friends after realizing
we had similarities other than race and culture that brought us together. Race
and culture is not important when making friends, it is our personal qualities
that is important. To this day, my parents are impressed with the wide range of
friends I have and how well I’ve “adapted” to the American culture.The reason
for this is because I am comfortable with who I am, but during my childhood, I
focused so hard on changing my ways and being accepted that for a time I felt
that I also lost myself in the process. By trying to adopt my friends’ values, I
abandoned my own. Once I let go of that superficial self, I no longer had to
pretend to be someone I was not and just be who I am. I no longer hated the fact
that I was Chinese. I accepted who I was. More importantly, I was happy with
myself.
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