I chose topic #4 about transitioning from childhood to adulthood.
I heard my stomach growling as I sat in Mrs. K's classroom waiting for the lunch bell to ring. It was my first day of Kindergarten and I was already anticipating lunch. When the lunch bell rang, Mrs. K ordered all of us, 4 years olds to take our lunches out of our backpacks and line up in an orderly fashion by the door. We did as we were told.
Once we got to the lunchroom, I excitedly opened up my first ever brown-bagged lunch and pulled out a flattened piece of bread with pink and brown substances oozing out of it. I thought to myself, "Ew! What is this?" I examined it for a few more minutes then decided it was too disgusting to eat and threw it away. For the next 25 minutes, I awkwardly sat there, biting my nails, waiting for the rest of the class to finish their meals. I hoped my mom wouldn't pack me that gross meal again. To my disappointment, the next day, when I opened up my brown bag, I saw that identical sandwich, except this time it wasn't squashed. I decided to at least take a bite of it. So, I gingerly took it out of the plastic bag and held it up to my nose. It kind of smelt sweet, but also salty. I took a bite of it, and immediately hated it. It was gooey and gross! Once again I threw it away in the trash and sat waiting for my classmates to finish.
For the next month, I repeated that process of opening my brown bag and being disappointed to see the same lunch. Finally, I decided to ask my mom why she packed me the same lunch everyday. My mom responded, "A peanut butter and jelly sandwich is the most common American lunch!!" I asked her why she thought it was necessary to pack me a common American lunch; why couldn't she pack rice and dried seaweed for me? Her tone changed to a more somber one as she responded, "I want you to fit in with the other kids!"
Having immigrated to the United States only a year prior, as a four year old, I had no idea what American culture was like. The only English I spoke at the time was what I had managed to learn from watching Clifford on Sunday mornings. And the only American food I had tried was a burger from McDonald's. So I realized, my mom packing me a pb&j **inappropriate to say pb&j? spell it out? sandwich everyday was her efforts of helping me to fit into American society.
At the tender age of four, I had the realization that most people don't have until their teens or adulthoods. I uncovered the fact that although I may not be able to see it directly, every little thing my mom did was for my benefit. Even now, when my mom is nagging me to write my college essay or study for my SATs **may be slightly inappropriate to use term nagging, or talk about college apps, kind of puts myself in a negative light I think about the pb&j sandwiches and know it's for my benefit.
I heard my stomach growling as I sat in Mrs. K's classroom waiting for the lunch bell to ring. It was my first day of Kindergarten and I was already anticipating lunch. When the lunch bell rang, Mrs. K ordered all of us, 4 years olds to take our lunches out of our backpacks and line up in an orderly fashion by the door. We did as we were told.
Once we got to the lunchroom, I excitedly opened up my first ever brown-bagged lunch and pulled out a flattened piece of bread with pink and brown substances oozing out of it. I thought to myself, "Ew! What is this?" I examined it for a few more minutes then decided it was too disgusting to eat and threw it away. For the next 25 minutes, I awkwardly sat there, biting my nails, waiting for the rest of the class to finish their meals. I hoped my mom wouldn't pack me that gross meal again. To my disappointment, the next day, when I opened up my brown bag, I saw that identical sandwich, except this time it wasn't squashed. I decided to at least take a bite of it. So, I gingerly took it out of the plastic bag and held it up to my nose. It kind of smelt sweet, but also salty. I took a bite of it, and immediately hated it. It was gooey and gross! Once again I threw it away in the trash and sat waiting for my classmates to finish.
For the next month, I repeated that process of opening my brown bag and being disappointed to see the same lunch. Finally, I decided to ask my mom why she packed me the same lunch everyday. My mom responded, "A peanut butter and jelly sandwich is the most common American lunch!!" I asked her why she thought it was necessary to pack me a common American lunch; why couldn't she pack rice and dried seaweed for me? Her tone changed to a more somber one as she responded, "I want you to fit in with the other kids!"
Having immigrated to the United States only a year prior, as a four year old, I had no idea what American culture was like. The only English I spoke at the time was what I had managed to learn from watching Clifford on Sunday mornings. And the only American food I had tried was a burger from McDonald's. So I realized, my mom packing me a pb&j **inappropriate to say pb&j? spell it out? sandwich everyday was her efforts of helping me to fit into American society.
At the tender age of four, I had the realization that most people don't have until their teens or adulthoods. I uncovered the fact that although I may not be able to see it directly, every little thing my mom did was for my benefit. Even now, when my mom is nagging me to write my college essay or study for my SATs **may be slightly inappropriate to use term nagging, or talk about college apps, kind of puts myself in a negative light I think about the pb&j sandwiches and know it's for my benefit.