It wasn't easy growing up as an immigrant

In June of 2001, I was born to two
wonderful parents in the country of the

Philippines. Both of my parents and their
family have grown up there and lived

there for most of their lives. My sister
was born there, as well. After my

parents got married, they'd been wanting
to immigrate to the United States for a

long time. My dad's side of the family
were starting to move there in hopes of

a better life. The United States was
known for the land of opportunity and

freedom, and my parents would have more opportunities for themselves and their

future kids. They knew that if they moved
there, we could live more comfortably. It

took years for my parents to get the
green light on being able to immigrate

to the United States. There were a lot of
requirements and tests they had to go

through to make sure they weren't
dangerous or sick and educated enough to

live there. We were lucky enough and we
finally moved to California in 2004. We

lived with my uncle and his family who
were already staying here while we

looked for a new house to move into
permanently. Everything was okay for the

first years we were there, and then I had
to start school. Kindergarten was hard. I

remember it very vividly. I couldn't
speak English and it was hard to make

friends. They really didn't know how to
talk to me. I'd always cry because no one

wanted to be my friend and I never
understood what the teacher was saying.

I started getting used to it and I learned
English naturally. I started making

friends and all was well. In 2007, my
sister Louine was born and that's when

our family became complete. My parents
raised me as if we still lived in the

Philippines. They had strict rules and
traditional Filipino morals. They were very

conservative and very religious. Most of
my lectures as a child were usually

based on religion and what God would
have wanted me to do. Flash forward to

sixth grade. I moved to another school, so
I had to say goodbye to my friends that

I'd known for for a long time and adapt
to a new environment with new people and

I started noticing things that made me
different from everyone else. I started

bringing a packed lunch to school and it
usually consisted of rice and eggs, rice

and sausage, or anything my dad can pack rice with. Everyone first thought it was

weird that I always had rice and random
Filipino food.

It had a distinct smell. I'd always feel
embarrassed because I didn't have lunchables

or a PB&J like all my other
classmates. Other people would make fun

of me because I would pronounce things
differently, like comfortable like

comfortable. That's how my parents taught me how to say it. Every time I correct

them, they tell me that English
isn't their first language and that I

should be patient. I also feel
embarrassed if I went somewhere with my

dad because he had a very thick Filipino
accent. People wouldn't understand

him and I'd have to translate. Even
though there were times where we didn't

fit in, I still love them so much and
I'll forever appreciate the things they

did and went through for us.