The American dream is a special goal, some people have to work hard for it while others may already be born fulfilling that dream. My childhood was… well, let’s just say it was like playing a game of catch up. It’s an interesting interpretation of the “American Dream” for myself since my parents immigrated here from Vietnam roughly around 2004, when I was only two years old. Funny enough, when I was growing up, I thought Vietnam and the United States always had good relations because I thought to myself “Why else would they accept us in”. But of course, around the time that I’ve lived a decade on this Earth, that was far from the truth. Once we got here, it wasn’t all champagne and jazz parties just yet; we had to honestly work hard to get where we are right now. The journey wasn't harsh or rigorous, no ; but it was difficult enough for where our family had our complications but ultimately grew past them and made our bond stronger than before.

Now, I’m not going to blabber on about how I’m special because of my “ethnic” background or that I’m complaining about it, it’s substantially the opposite. I’ve always found myself questioning my identity, even to this day I ponder on about who I really am. But imagine this for yourself: You stumble upon a different environment where ninety-nine percent of the inhabitants don’t look like you and their lips conceal words that you’re not able to comprehend yet. Pretty daunting, right? Well I had that special privilege of experiencing that, piled on with learning my actual native language and the social constructs of this odd old world.

Remember how I wasn’t going to complain? Well, I perhaps lied just a tiny bit. But honestly the phenomenon I failed hard to understand most was why I or other people have to seem different from the others. I vaguely remember one event where in third grade, I visited Vietnam over Christmas break and once I got back, my teacher unexpectedly put me on the spot and “forced” me to tell my class about my experience there. Of course at the time my brain wasn’t developed so I DID tell everyone about my time there, but looking back at it, why did I? Yeah, I knew my time in Vietnam was memorable to me but I also wanted to hear about Logan’s trip to Florida, or Katie’s trip to The Bahamas. At the time, the fact I was the only one able to share my vacation felt special to me, but in present day time, I feel a sense of special “privilege” just because of my “background”. And looking back at it, I didn't really appreciate that fact.  

It was also odd to me that my elementary school placed me in a ESL class where the basic premise is that students whose first language is not English, had to take time of their class every Thursday, and come in for an hour of English lecturing. Again of course, my childish mind thought these sessions were fantastic because I could skip class time. But looking back on it, I really didn’t see the point, not just for me, but for my other peers in that class. We were all pretty fluent in English at this point. It was also a mockery because they were giving us third grade level reading books in fifth grade! Don’t get me wrong, I’m not offended by the offer. I understand that the school district only wanted the best for the children that had another language as their first language, and my ESL teacher Mrs. Heir, was a sweetheart and I owe a lot of my integrity and character to her. I recall one time when I asked her this question: why does she even bother teaching this ESL course because all of her students pretty much knew everything we learned in class. She gracefully responded with the fact she knows that her students are already capable but she enjoys spending time with us, even if what she’s teaching is bland to us. And although she was tasked with teaching ESL kids, that mentality of foreign students and “diversity” wasn’t forced into her speech, she treated us just like any other person, and that character really stuck with me. Because I always try to seek out the human aspect in people first, and all the other features is just the cherry on top. Anyways, to continue on, the last year the school forced me to take that class was in sixth grade, where my teacher told me that my grades were good enough for me to drop the class in its entirety.

There’s a lot of shame with my identity, for me atleast. Not necessarily the background or history of it, but the modern day implications that comes with it (in my opinion at least). I sometimes feel guilty of the stereotypes that come with my identity, and it’s not even the bad ones I worry about. I look at my fellow peers that have the same but also a different ethnic background, and their stereotypes seems pretty harsh compared to mine. And it sucks too because I tell myself that these stereotypes don’t affect me but they do, but the harsh ones don’t get to me. Ironically the “nice” ones are the ones I’m most worried about because the bad ones I can avoid pretty easily, but the good ones I feel I have to elevate myself to fit that certain criteria. I just honestly believe identity politics is kind of pity in a way, and it’s not necessary honest pity as well.

Still though, I wouldn’t trade my life for someone's whose life is ten times richer or straightforward than mine. Although some people may view “The American Dream” as getting rich and having an abundant of materialism to compose you through life, I just see the symbolic goal as getting what you’re content and happy with and sticking with it. To me, that’s just the fact of me being here ; my parents didn’t have to come to the United States. They were doing alright for themselves in Vietnam. However, they saw the potential in the prosperous America and idolized the idea of the “American Dream” for themselves, but they idolized it mostly because their child would benefit from it as well. I’m pretty proud of who I am and hopeful for who I will become, and although that sounds pretty cliche, it’s my honest viewpoint. I said earlier that my childhood was like playing a game of catch up, and I’m glad it was. I didn’t need to be on pace with everyone else, because all of the moments I spent catching up to everyone else, have made me who I am today, and hopefully there’s still a lot more catching up to do in the future.