sstarfish117
Oct 7, 2012
Undergraduate / 'Describe a moment when your perspective changed' - Brown University Supplement [5]
Xmsamurai
My hometown is one of those close-knit, rural towns where people would comment about how big I've grown or that they liked my family's yearly Thanksgiving card whenever I went to church or the grocery store. One of those towns where neighbors are extensions of family, and they always look out for one another. In my homogeneous community of two thousand villagers, there were only a handful of minorities.
As I grew older, it dawned on me that I was different. I was not like the others, I was not white. I had darker hair, eyes, and skin than my peers, courtesy of my parents, who emigrated to the US from the Philippines when they were students. In my middle school of about one hundred students per grade, I was the only "Asian kid". Because of these differences, I thought that I was somehow "special". I wore my ethnicity with pride, espousing "Filipino pride" by celebrating historical and contemporary Filipino national heroes like Jose Rizal and Manny Pacquiao.
It was not until later that I realized I knew nothing about being Filipino.
When I moved to CT, I enrolled in the local high schoolfor in my sophomore year. I was impressed by its statistics - there were over two thousand students and many of them are ethnic minorities. It was such a stark contrast to Rouses Point and I excitedly anticipated meeting people of all different races, especially "fellow Asians".
I soon met some "Asian kids" in the first few weeks of school. Add "However," here I was shocked by how different they wereto from me. Most of them spoke another language at home add "while" here I could speak only one language: English. They ate ethnic foods at home add "but" I hardly ever ate Filipino food.
Was I truly one of them? Did race and ethnicity decide my identity? Or was my identity determined by experiences, living situations, and upbringing? From what I experienced, the latter proved to be true. Even though I was ethnically "Asian", I was more similar to those of my hometown.
I liked how there is a clear point that you are trying to make and it gets to the reader at the end. very well writen, just make sure to fix your sentence structure.
Xmsamurai
My hometown is one of those close-knit, rural towns where people would comment about how big I've grown or that they liked my family's yearly Thanksgiving card whenever I went to church or the grocery store. One of those towns where neighbors are extensions of family, and they always look out for one another. In my homogeneous community of two thousand villagers, there were only a handful of minorities.
As I grew older, it dawned on me that I was different. I was not like the others, I was not white. I had darker hair, eyes, and skin than my peers, courtesy of my parents, who emigrated to the US from the Philippines when they were students. In my middle school of about one hundred students per grade, I was the only "Asian kid". Because of these differences, I thought that I was somehow "special". I wore my ethnicity with pride, espousing "Filipino pride" by celebrating historical and contemporary Filipino national heroes like Jose Rizal and Manny Pacquiao.
It was not until later that I realized I knew nothing about being Filipino.
When I moved to CT, I enrolled in the local high school
I soon met some "Asian kids" in the first few weeks of school. Add "However," here I was shocked by how different they were
Was I truly one of them? Did race and ethnicity decide my identity? Or was my identity determined by experiences, living situations, and upbringing? From what I experienced, the latter proved to be true. Even though I was ethnically "Asian", I was more similar to those of my hometown.
I liked how there is a clear point that you are trying to make and it gets to the reader at the end. very well writen, just make sure to fix your sentence structure.