Before addressing anything, I'd like to say that I fully understand the intent of your writing prompt: I'm supposed to evaluate something that most people around me don't notice about me and how it's shaped me into who I am today. It's an interesting question. However, I would be greatly appreciative if I may have the opportunity to interpret the prompt and gear it towards what goes unnoticed by me, as this reflects who I am today in what I consider to be a much more substantial way.

It's strange what you see when you view yourself on an everyday basis and when you take the time to mentally step out of your body and assess what you look like on the outside to others. I struggle to define what it means to be an Asian-American. How am I supposed to act? What am I supposed to put my belief into? When I'm in school and around my peers, I view myself as an equal. Subconsciously, I never take into account that out of the whole group, I'm the only Asian. It's only when I see my reflection or someone jokingly points it out that I'm thrust into the realization.

Growing up, my parents had a slightly racist view of the world. It was drilled into my head at an early age that African-Americans were bad, Mexicans were stupid, and Caucasians were mean. There were, of course, exceptions to the rule. I was allowed friends, and it was fine if they were of a different race, mostly because I wasn't really allowed a choice. There are only three Asian families that attend my school district. As of now, I am the only Asian female in my high school, with only one other Asian male. That's it. In spite of that, I am the Student Council president, president of my class, vice president of National Honor Society, treasurer of Key Club, and captain of the Forensics team.

It's interesting to see how you are pressured to start viewing the world by the morals that you were raised with. But I'm trying to stand up now for equality. I truly believe there should be no prejudice, no racism. When a stranger looks my way, my mind shouldn't have to instantly jump to, "They're looking at me because I'm Asian." I shouldn't worry that a customer at work will tell me to "go back to my country". There should be no need for that feeling for anyone.

I never voice these thoughts, though. Why would I, when all my friends would never understand? They wouldn't know how it feels to live in America, the land of the free and the brave, of equality, and yet have your culture be so sexist that you almost give up in the possibility of equality for your own future. My friends would never understand the fear that settles into my stomach when I think someone is going to make a racial slur. They wouldn't know because sometimes even I forget I'm Asian.

I'm blessed with this luxury of enjoying who I am instead of what I am because I surround myself with the right people. My friends love me for who I am and offer me stability when needed. It was during junior year that I started asking them all these weird questions. "Do you mind that I'm Asian?" "Is it weird that I'm the only Asian in the group?" Their response was, "Honestly, I don't really notice anymore. I love you, Pa." I'm glad that I have such loyal friends. I believe my friends are a reflection of myself at least, and I hope that's true.

Yes, I look different from everyone else in my school, and I can speak another language fluently. I go to Hmong festivals and enjoy papaya salad. Optimistically speaking, my parents are only slightly racist since they have learned that their own Caucasian and Mexican friends are funny and loyal. We elected an African-American president; an Indian-American won Miss America 2013. The world is changing. And as I continue my own journey, creating my own history, I hope that the times my race goes unnoticed keep growing until I never catch myself thinking of my reflection as that one Asian girl, but rather, simply me.