In the United States, discrimination is starting to grow once again, like a dandelion sprouting from the cold ground. Growing up during this time was tough for a young Vietnamese boy. I was taught to embrace my freedom and to promote fair treatment toward others. With a golden rule of “treat others the way you wanted to be treated” which was hammered into my brain. However, I had to face the stereotypical thoughts of different races and ethnicities; I experienced discrimination first hand when I was a young boy. I have seen racism in a country that prompts freedom for all. I believe that one person cannot solve this long hidden problem by themselves. Though, uniting together to defend our integrity will lead us to succeed in abolish racism.
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It not only astounded my parents, but it also confounded me to see such hatred. We are told that we live in a country where anyone can do what they want to. To try to prosper and to create a new name for themselves. But that is a lie, a lie that I have grown up to believe was true. I was taught to believe in the goodness of freedom. I stood up each day and sang the Pledge of Allegiance with my head held up high and proud. But that is not what my parents saw when they first set foot onto U.S soil. In 1991 my parents came over to the United States looking for a better future after being pushed out of their war ridden home country. When my parents settled in a community they believe would embrace their cultural identity. They were faced with hatred and falsified treatment. Day after day, they were faced with discrimination and words of hatred like “Go back home!” or “We don’t want your kind here!”. But they never listened because they knew something was there for them. They knew there was hope just waiting for them at the end of the tunnel. But it was not easy to obtain that hope they so desired. There was only one way to get to the “hope”, which was to hide their sorrow behind a mask of
It not only astounded my parents, but it also confounded me to see such hatred. We are told that we live in a country where anyone can do what they want to. To try to prosper and to create a new name for themselves. But that is a lie, a lie that I have grown up to believe was true. I was taught to believe in the goodness of freedom. I stood up each day and sang the Pledge of Allegiance with my head held up high and proud. But that is not what my parents saw when they first set foot onto U.S soil. In 1991 my parents came over to the United States looking for a better future after being pushed out of their war ridden home country. When my parents settled in a community they believe would embrace their cultural identity. They were faced with hatred and falsified treatment. Day after day, they were faced with discrimination and words of hatred like “Go back home!” or “We don’t want your kind here!”. But they never listened because they knew something was there for them. They knew there was hope just waiting for them at the end of the tunnel. But it was not easy to obtain that hope they so desired. There was only one way to get to the “hope”, which was to hide their sorrow behind a mask of