Personal Narrative: The Fall Of Saigon

To anyone who finds this.
The fall of the Saigon happened on April 30th of 1975. I remember that day. I was roughly eight years old and was lying on the floor in the middle of the living room. I was probably doing some math homework that Mr. Peterson gave us that day. My parents were there, John McGee and Mary-Beth McGee; they were watching the news regarding to the fall. My father said the United States involvement was such a waste of time. My mother elaborated on how the war cost the United States a fortune and how the Vietnamese people didn’t even appreciate it. My parents always hated the war, mainly because my mother’s father and and my father’s brothers were killed by the Viet Cong but they had other reasons. They always had a strong estrangement towards Vietnamese people. I guess that’s where it all started: my hatred for them ungrateful gooks. Galveston Bay, Texas was a small shrimping town located 25 miles away from Houston. Here, we never see any gooks. Then suddenly in my freshmen year of high school, I saw fifteen of them in my English class. They all sound the same. They all smell the same. They all look the same. Every …show more content…
Kevin McGee. Earth to Kevin. It was Franklin who called for me. I looked up and see confusion in his eyes. Then he paused and heard the Vietnamese that flow through the room. He comments on how the language seemed oddly beautiful today. His comment gave me hope; I felt that I could be accepted with my new side. That there will be someone there to see me when I can’t even see myself. However, Anderson interjected. Those gooks sound like they dying or something. Franklin quickly revised his claim. Yeah, these gooks all sound stupid. I would be embarrassed if I spoke like that. After that, I just couldn’t see myself anymore. Wherever and whatever I would do, I would not be accepted. Both people, American and Vietnamese, can’t seem to accept me… I wished I never knew I was