My mom once told me, “Sometimes, I can’t tell if you’re Vietnamese or American.” It was said in jest; she just didn’t understand why I didn’t like egg rolls, but it still struck a chord in me. As upset as I was, I couldn’t fault her for it because I had the same problem. I continue to have this problem. This constant rejection of my race and culture during my childhood has left me without a concrete identity and I feel, as Katy Perry once sang, like a plastic bag floating in the wind. School, where I spend most of my time, doesn’t help me with this either. …show more content…
Not to knock on my school, but when the Muslim Student Association launched the Covered Girl Challenge as an opportunity for any girl who wants to learn the significance of the hijab and the backlash that comes with wearing it, my old principal caved into the bigotry outside of the school and canceled what should have been a big step forward in combating racism, most specifically, islamophobia. Now, I’m not a Muslim so this cancellation didn’t impact me as much as it would have if I were one, but I found it rather disheartening that although my school was quick to proclaim its pride in diversity, it allowed bigots to