Evaluate a significant experience, achievement, risk you have taken, or ethical dilemma you have faced and its impact on you.
When I first came to America, I knew no English, and the only language I was equipped with was my native language Vietnamese. First few years of elementary school were horrible. I was the only Vietnamese kid there. I could not make friends with other kids my age because they don't speak Vietnamese. Some have tried but our friendship didn't last long because we could not connect, or they got frustrated of the confused look on me whenever they tell me something. Others did some hurtful imitations and teased me whenever I spoke Vietnamese. This made me hated my native language; I kept wishing I knew English instead.
By the time I move up to middle school, I got some decent English under my belt and was content. I made a few friends, participated more in class discussions, and I felt more like an actual student in an English school, not just a foreigner anymore. Still I despised my Vietnamese language; believed that it had no use in a country like America, and used it less frequently, except when speaking with my parents.
One day, during class, I was called into the counselor office. I was scared. I thought I got into trouble. Once I got there, I saw a group of 3 students sitting behind a desk across from the counselor with confused looks on their face that I was surprisingly familiar with. A wave of déjà vu hit me; their rural clothing, their neat hairstyle, and their slippers... they were Vietnamese students. I said hi to them in Vietnamese, and they greeted me back with a look of relief. The counselor said that they don't speak English and needed my help to explain to them the schools paper works. I spent the rest of the day getting together with the three students and their parents to work on the school forms, and they were all ready to go the next day. Afterwards, one the student's mom came up to me and said in Vietnamese, "Thank you so much for helping my son, you are like his big brother." I was shocked, because it was the first time a stranger considered me their close relative. I was also happy because it was such a genuine show of gratitude.
After that day, I had a realized that my Vietnamese was not useless after all; it was more like a gift, to help others of my kind in this new country. My Vietnamese helped the three families transition their child into school. The counselor grouped those three students in my classes so I can help translate for them. I knew how they felt, just like how I felt back in elementary school. The only difference is now they have a big brother who can make their transition less difficult and stressful. To this day, I have embraced my Vietnamese language, am proud of it, and use it to help those that are in need.
When I first came to America, I knew no English, and the only language I was equipped with was my native language Vietnamese. First few years of elementary school were horrible. I was the only Vietnamese kid there. I could not make friends with other kids my age because they don't speak Vietnamese. Some have tried but our friendship didn't last long because we could not connect, or they got frustrated of the confused look on me whenever they tell me something. Others did some hurtful imitations and teased me whenever I spoke Vietnamese. This made me hated my native language; I kept wishing I knew English instead.
By the time I move up to middle school, I got some decent English under my belt and was content. I made a few friends, participated more in class discussions, and I felt more like an actual student in an English school, not just a foreigner anymore. Still I despised my Vietnamese language; believed that it had no use in a country like America, and used it less frequently, except when speaking with my parents.
One day, during class, I was called into the counselor office. I was scared. I thought I got into trouble. Once I got there, I saw a group of 3 students sitting behind a desk across from the counselor with confused looks on their face that I was surprisingly familiar with. A wave of déjà vu hit me; their rural clothing, their neat hairstyle, and their slippers... they were Vietnamese students. I said hi to them in Vietnamese, and they greeted me back with a look of relief. The counselor said that they don't speak English and needed my help to explain to them the schools paper works. I spent the rest of the day getting together with the three students and their parents to work on the school forms, and they were all ready to go the next day. Afterwards, one the student's mom came up to me and said in Vietnamese, "Thank you so much for helping my son, you are like his big brother." I was shocked, because it was the first time a stranger considered me their close relative. I was also happy because it was such a genuine show of gratitude.
After that day, I had a realized that my Vietnamese was not useless after all; it was more like a gift, to help others of my kind in this new country. My Vietnamese helped the three families transition their child into school. The counselor grouped those three students in my classes so I can help translate for them. I knew how they felt, just like how I felt back in elementary school. The only difference is now they have a big brother who can make their transition less difficult and stressful. To this day, I have embraced my Vietnamese language, am proud of it, and use it to help those that are in need.