Personal Narrative: Human Anatomy

It was a Wednesday afternoon, I was trapped in the most exciting class Shawnee Mission West had to offer, Human Anatomy. By exciting, I mean I had the opportunity to memorize each of the bones that surrounded the vital thoracic organs in the human body, very cool. My brain felt like it was slowly deteriorating as I was waiting for the clock to strike 2:40. The anticipation was brutal. I struggled to keep my eyes open, and my thoughts focused. The slow ticking sound of the clock interrupted the voice of my teacher’s lecture. Mr. Bair, made his best effort to keep the class involved in his lecture, as he was explaining how the human body was composed of 270 different bones. Although, the distracting sound of the clock, and the anticipation of

finally being set free from this prison-like classroom overwhelmed his unattractive lecture. Mr. Bair explained, “As the organs protected by the rib cage are surro-TIK” the clock interrupted. “The outline of the skeletal structure which are compos-TOK” the clock, once more. My focus danced around from lecture to the clock and back to the lecture. What was supposed to be a fifty-minute period, felt like a millennium. The only thing I could think about was the warmth of the sun, and my after-school soccer practice. Suddenly, a familiar, beloved sound interrupted my daydream. Bbbbbrriiiing. The final school bell, time to get the hell out of here.
As I exited the classroom, into the hallways, I felt a sense of euphoric relief; everlasting freedom.

Although class was over and my brain felt like mashed potatoes, I felt proud conquering another mundane day of school. I entered the locker room to change for soccer practice. The smell of sweat, cheap cologne, and boys filled my nostrils. I changed into the proper athletic apparel and walked onto the practice field. It was a perfect day, a little hot I suppose, but who could complain? The sun was radiating warmth, birds chirping, and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. I remember thinking to myself, life is so grand right now, nothing could possibly ruin this day for me. I greeted my teammates and coaches with a bright smile and a cheerful “hello!” After going through the daily routine of practice, running, drills, and an intense cool down, my friends and I walked back to the locker rooms. As we were chatting along, cracking jokes and making meticulous strategies for tomorrows match, my friend Ricky made a comment that still haunts me to this day. “Hey Al” He began, “Have any rice for your lunch today?” My heart skipped a beat. “Yeah, what was it like being the only guy in school having rice with their lunch?!” Another friend said, pitching into the insults. I was speechless. My brain failed to create any sort of response. Looking back now, I regret not saying anything, but at that exact moment I was dead silent; I felt completely alone, even though I was surrounded in a

room with my teammates. My friends must have noticed how much that comment bothered me just by analyzing the distraught look on my face. They quickly followed up saying, “Hey, we were kidding al, relax” they assured. What seemed like an hour of silence, but only lasting a few seconds, I finally muttered a response. “Ha, it’s all cool, no worries.” Looking back, I can’t recall another time I felt so ashamed coming for an Asian background.
Even to this day, those words still haunt me. I was so confused on why someone would use my race as a rationale to insult me. How could someone use something I am not in control of, my ethical background, to demeanor me as a human being? Before this incident, I would hear it all the time in the news. How students target minorities with racial slurs in our school system. However, it wasn’t until I was the actual victim of this injustice that I realized how disgraceful it is to belittle someone due to their race. It made me question my role in society. Would my race have an impact on how people perceive me in the future? Growing up, my parents always told me to be proud where I came from. I was me, and that would never change. Although, at that moment, inside the boy’s locker room, I remember feeling disassociated with who I was.
I believe this incident will always remain as a major event in my life because it made me realize, that your race could be used as a tool to bring you down.

It made me question my own identity. Was it wrong to be raised within the Asian culture? Is my race, compared to others, more inferior? Coming from a 6A school with a majority being Caucasian, Hispanic, and African America, it makes you feel disassociated when you don’t fall into any of these races. To put into perspective, I was one of the only three Asian-Americans in my school system. I remember feeling as if I were a stranger walking the halls of Shawnee Mission

West.
At that moment, I felt a sense of not belonging in society. I was ashamed from where I came from and who I was. Although, over time I quickly realized something. I realized that your race shouldn’t be the only aspect to determine what kind of person you are. Your actions, the way you treat others, and how you live are the things that determine your holistic being. Race, physical appearance, ability, are all invalid factors that society has created to highlight who you are. I thought about the comments that my friends made, and quickly accepted that is who I am. I am from an Asian heritage. I love eating rice with my meals. Growing up, my parents raised me to embrace my culture; not be ashamed of it. Yes, we live in a society where racial privilege does exist. A society where humans are demeaned due to uncontrollable factors such as skin color and race. As humans, we’ve created a society where certain expectations and norms are set up for us to be successful. However, I’ve realized that it is our purpose, as individuals, to embrace our identities that we are given. We shouldn’t feel ashamed for who we are. We, as holistic individuals determine our success.