Personal Narrative: My Cultural Heritage

The way I was raised was always interesting to me, and I thank my family any time an odd situation arises regarding my cultural heritage, status, or any other issues which had formed in my life. The shift from Philippines to the United States was never a rocky one for me, but I did find it difficult to accept a handful of changes, weather being one example. Another drastic change was living in a rural area to a heftier, urban setting. My social status in society never clicked with me when I was a child because it was confusing.
To explain, I lived in a mountainous area in the Philippines, where neighbors were just about a mile away and we had a river in our backyard. My family owned a pig farm at this time, and I had to take a jeepney, an …show more content…
Instead of living on a main road while surrounded by metal and concrete, I then lived in a small, humble house with a large backyard and less Filipinos surrounding me. My neighbors were all much older, no one having kids, and were third- or fourth-generations in the United States. Instead of being disappointed at the lack of friends in the neighborhood, I would invite my classmates over for us to enjoy the large backyard. And instead of ostracizing myself from the neighborhood, I decided to learn about the country by asking questions about when my neighbors were children and what the United States was like back then. I never once remember discriminating anyone, but I was blunt as a child, accidentally insulting someone because I did not fully understand …show more content…
From what I saw in the hallways, there was no majority in social status or cultural differences; there were only stereotypes and cliques. I was a musician, so I stayed close with the music students, who were also conveniently in the Honors and Advanced Placement programs. It was similar to a private school setting where you see the same thirty or so students for every class, but our gym and homeroom classes assisted in that, along with our available extracurricular activities. There was never a problem in the music wing of Bloomfield High School because of the vast amount of cultural differences. None of my friends were from the same culture and mostly had the same music and fashion preferences. I could be walking to school with my Indian friend, hang out with my Italian-adopted Vietnamese friend, then walk home with my Spanish-speaking friends, and we would all end up at my house playing video games somehow. But of course, there were always stereotypes of the “ghetto” kids wanting to spend time to only themselves, and the “scene” kids keeping their distance from the crowd, but the music wing included everybody. The most humorous concept to me was that most of my friends who were influenced by heavy metal and more alternative forms of rock started up their own