I remember the walk home, the leaves on the trees didn’t blow the same way they always did. They swayed in an uncomfortable and meaningless way. As I opened the back door to the kitchen, my brother walked towards me to grab a Kleenex. Something terribly wrong had happened, and I was the last to know.
Before the death of my father, the only thoughts I thought were important were how to solve long division problems on my homework and how to climb to the highest branch of a tree without falling. Before the death of my father, my mother was more enthusiastic and joined us in the pool and giggled at the presence of my father. Before the death of my father, I daydreamed about my wedding day and my father being there by my side to give me away. But after the death of my father, everything had changed.
Although my father’s death had turned our lives around, it has taught us how delicate a family really is. I am more appreciative of life and the people around me due to the loss in the family. Because I now know life is too short and unexpected, I value every minute and spend it as if it were my last. I am not just the energetic and smiling cheerleader I appear to be on the outside, but I am also a Vietnamese fighting through poverty, deaths, and near-death illnesses that occurred within the family.
I look up to and is inspired by my mother who didn’t choose to live her life as a widow, but tries her best to speak the little English that she knows to get the best food; the most affordable housing; the best education we can receive so that we can grow up and one day, take care of her as she did us.
The purpose of my parents immigrating to America was to start a new life for our family and for us to one day, graduate with a good education and make a difference in our family, where we won’t have to struggle dealing with poverty. I am going to be the first female in the family to do just that.
There’s more to life than fancy cars and big homes. My life is about the effect my father’s death had on my family, the two times one of my older brother was diagnosed with cancer, the many visits to the hospital that could have been spent studying for a test the next day and the morning cries of the babies my mom baby-sits in order for us to have enough food on the table.
After applying and being accepted to three competitive college access programs; the Summer Application Institute, KRON 4’s Students Rising Above, and Next Generation Scholars, I knew I was on my way to a life far greater than the confines of the canal. Through hard work and smart choices, I am finding my way out of a community plagued by police sirens, unemployment, poverty and the screeching of breaks.
I want to go farther than the traditional expectations of a traditional Vietnamese girl. I want to reach up and grab the chance to a four year college where I will have the chance to rise above and make sure not only my family, but other families who have immigrated for a new start, won’t have to only depend on food stamps for grocery and will be a role-model for the next generations to come. I long to be recognized as the girl who fights for a better life for herself and her family. I can’t wait to redefine everyone’s expectations and have my voice be heard in college.
“Sandy, come home when you can. I’ve made phó ga and I need someone to peel the chicken.” Over a hot bowl of traditional Vietnamese noodles, I will share with my mother how it’s like to live in a dorm with a stranger and how the cold breeze feels after walking back from a night class. I will share how instead of waking up to the screeching break of a bus, I’ve waken up to the early conversations people have passing through the halls. I will tell her about the excitement and adrenaline rush I felt while attending the college’s sport events and how meeting new people everyday really opened my eyes to learning new things.
