Being Proud Of Being Korean-American

Ever since I was a young girl, I was taught to love those around me and to treat others the way I wanted to be treated. I always looked upon everyone the same way, regardless of if they had a different skin tone or facial features from me. This philosophy, however, did not prove to be a popular one held among my peers in my middle school years. Middle school was the first time I truly experienced confusion regarding my ethnicity and culture. I vividly remember the time when a group of students blatantly mocked and teased my Asian ethnicity. There was a wide range of stereotypical statements. The constant remarks on the distinct facial features of Asians, sarcastic questions regarding a foreign language, and insulting assertions

I remember glaring at my mom when she spoke Korean in public, telling her to be quiet. I remember avoiding talking about my culture, because I was ashamed. These simple remarks from children who were not taught to accept others’ differences truly affected my pride and identity. My parents would always tell me, “You should be proud of being Korean!” Despite this, I felt disrespected, downgraded, and discouraged. Sometimes, even my own friends would jokingly tease me or make rude comments about my ethnicity. I always laughed it off, because I did not know how to stand up for myself. It was also very ironic to me how xenophobic my peers acted towards me when I had been living in America for my whole

When I turned to look, I was excitedly greeted by my relatives and their big signs that read: “Welcome to Korea!” What happened next was a flash of tears, hugs, and kisses. I had seen my parents emotional before, but not to this extent. This made me wonder how much my mother truly missed her family when she parted from them to move to America. It also made me consider how her relationship with her family strengthened her identity as an Asian-American. Within the few minutes of meeting, my cousins and I were treating each other as if we had lived together for years. We were sharing crazy memories and laughing like old friends. Just in the car ride to my grandmother’s house, we shared secrets among ourselves and sang our hearts out to our favorite tunes. Once we arrived, I met my grandparents for the very first time in person, and they embraced me as if I was their own daughter. I could tell where my mom got her warm hugs from. During our two-week vacation to Korea, I had the chance to experience the authenticity of my culture and learn about the significance of it. By spending time with my relatives who truly cared about me and accepted me into their lives, I was able to come to the realization that being an Asian was a meaningful part of my