Some students have a background or story that is so central to their identity that they believe their application would be incomplete without it. If this sounds like you, then please share your story.I grew up believing that I had no cultural identity.
Over the course of my life, I have alternately been Singaporean, Chinese, English or Hongkongese, depending on how I felt at the time. I was born in Singapore but having immigrated to Hong Kong when I was just two months old, I could never seem to fully convince myself that I am Singaporean. Ethnically I am Mainland Chinese, yet having lived in Hong Kong since I left Singapore, I know practically nothing about Mainland China. In Hong Kong, I attended an international school that was part of the English Schools Foundation as opposed to a local school. With this came my affinity for all things English - English breakfast tea, English vocabulary (pants, chips) and English colloquialisms (blimey, chuffed). However, I realized that just because I adopted a few facets of English culture did not mean that I was English. Despite calling Hong Kong my home for 17 years, as an ethnically Mainland Chinese that can neither proficiently speak the local Cantonese dialect nor hold much interest in the local dramas shows that all Hongkongers seemed to be entranced in, I couldn't see myself as one of them either.
My sense of fractured self originated from a relative's joking question: "So are you Singaporean, a wannabe Brit or Chinese?" I was still in primary school at the time, and having seen my Singaporean passport I unhesitatingly declared myself Singaporean. To this he replied, "but all of us here are Chinese - if you're Singaporean, how can we be family?" From that moment onwards, I became incredibly self-conscious of my identity. I was constrained by it. To my western friends I talked overtly about soccer, hockey and the Arctic Monkeys. To my Mainland Chinese cousins I tried to show I was one of them by recalling traditional Chinese proverbs at family gatherings. When I was out and about in Hong Kong, I spoke basic Cantonese whenever I could, just to prove to all the 'real' Hongkongers in the vicinity that I was one of them. Having no cultural identity meant that I constantly wanted to prove to myself, and to others, that I was one of them. It meant that I was becoming the paradox of being defined as someone who couldn't be defined.
As I started high school, I was still struggling to come to terms with whom I was. But this mattered less and less as the years went by. I was part of a truly multicultural society and became friends with people from all backgrounds. Instead of worrying about my identity, I devoted myself to becoming an integral part of my school's community. Leading hockey practice, singing in choir, playing in sports teams, serving as a prefect and being a peer-mentor for younger students made me realize that in the grand scheme of things, I am more defined by what I do than where I come from. I also had the privilege of travelling overseas with my school: service trips to Fiji and Thailand made me realize that there is an abundance of vibrant life and beauty in the world, all made possible through the delights of cultural diversity.
High school has taught be that I was never meant to be satisfied with one, predestined culture to live with for the rest of my life. Our identities are dynamic things that we forge ourselves. No culture defines me - I define what they are to me. I am my own person now. I grew up believing I had no cultural identity, now I look at the world and say: bring on the cultures, world, and I will blend them together in spectacular fashion and become the best version of me.
Over the course of my life, I have alternately been Singaporean, Chinese, English or Hongkongese, depending on how I felt at the time. I was born in Singapore but having immigrated to Hong Kong when I was just two months old, I could never seem to fully convince myself that I am Singaporean. Ethnically I am Mainland Chinese, yet having lived in Hong Kong since I left Singapore, I know practically nothing about Mainland China. In Hong Kong, I attended an international school that was part of the English Schools Foundation as opposed to a local school. With this came my affinity for all things English - English breakfast tea, English vocabulary (pants, chips) and English colloquialisms (blimey, chuffed). However, I realized that just because I adopted a few facets of English culture did not mean that I was English. Despite calling Hong Kong my home for 17 years, as an ethnically Mainland Chinese that can neither proficiently speak the local Cantonese dialect nor hold much interest in the local dramas shows that all Hongkongers seemed to be entranced in, I couldn't see myself as one of them either.
My sense of fractured self originated from a relative's joking question: "So are you Singaporean, a wannabe Brit or Chinese?" I was still in primary school at the time, and having seen my Singaporean passport I unhesitatingly declared myself Singaporean. To this he replied, "but all of us here are Chinese - if you're Singaporean, how can we be family?" From that moment onwards, I became incredibly self-conscious of my identity. I was constrained by it. To my western friends I talked overtly about soccer, hockey and the Arctic Monkeys. To my Mainland Chinese cousins I tried to show I was one of them by recalling traditional Chinese proverbs at family gatherings. When I was out and about in Hong Kong, I spoke basic Cantonese whenever I could, just to prove to all the 'real' Hongkongers in the vicinity that I was one of them. Having no cultural identity meant that I constantly wanted to prove to myself, and to others, that I was one of them. It meant that I was becoming the paradox of being defined as someone who couldn't be defined.
As I started high school, I was still struggling to come to terms with whom I was. But this mattered less and less as the years went by. I was part of a truly multicultural society and became friends with people from all backgrounds. Instead of worrying about my identity, I devoted myself to becoming an integral part of my school's community. Leading hockey practice, singing in choir, playing in sports teams, serving as a prefect and being a peer-mentor for younger students made me realize that in the grand scheme of things, I am more defined by what I do than where I come from. I also had the privilege of travelling overseas with my school: service trips to Fiji and Thailand made me realize that there is an abundance of vibrant life and beauty in the world, all made possible through the delights of cultural diversity.
High school has taught be that I was never meant to be satisfied with one, predestined culture to live with for the rest of my life. Our identities are dynamic things that we forge ourselves. No culture defines me - I define what they are to me. I am my own person now. I grew up believing I had no cultural identity, now I look at the world and say: bring on the cultures, world, and I will blend them together in spectacular fashion and become the best version of me.