Going through high school, I’ve been asked, “Where  are you from?” count-less times. On each occasion, the person wasn’t asking about my birthplace, and it really didn’t bother me. Where I was born. What cultures and traditions my ancestors believed in. None of it. I was just an American who didn’t care about my origins.

After each incident and trouble that I’ve brought home, my mother would always restate that I have a chance in life. “I’m the dumb one. That’s why we struggle. You must go through school and live a better life than me. That’s why we came here.”

I began to question, why leave our own country? Most ethnics groups come to America to give their kids a better education, but with blessings, there comes casualties. Most Americanized kids and adults can’t even speak their native tongues, yet alone understand it. It’s sad that I sometimes can’t find words to explain my accomplishments to my mother.

Traditional foods are getting replaced with fast food, candy and unhealthy snacks. I don’t understand why people all over the world would pay for a unique, exotic meal that originated from another country. When the ethnic kids at home would rather choose to skip it.

I wonder how many people truly understand the history of their race, of the struggles their parents and grandparents went through to give you your ticket to the pursuit of happiness. Minorities are slowly losing and forgetting their cultures. Worse off, no one really takes the time to learn about other ethnic groups outside of their own. Maybe if everyone understood other ethnic backgrounds, there would be a mutual respect. One built on the relation of our common struggles.