Empowerly

Student profile

Prompt: Some students have a background, identity, identity, interest, or talent that is so meaningful they believe their application would be incomplete without it. If this sounds like you, then please share your story.  

I am born and raised in my mother’s hometown and the biggest city in southern China. It has flowers, warm sunlight, and the second tallest tower in the world. When summer comes, the air is filled with the sweet scent of golden mangoes.

My dad’s family, on the other hand, is from a small northern town. It is filled with echoes of seagulls and salty ocean breezes. It has no skyscrapers and no mango trees. Instead, it is characterized by dandelions along its muddy roads and two-story houses enclosed by wooden fences.

Raised in my mother’s hometown, I was deeply rooted in my mother’s southern culture, yet I had always struggled with my parents’ distinct backgrounds and wanted to connect with my father’s family.

I was excited on my first visit to my father’s hometown. As a seven-year-old who saw snow for the first time, I jumped around, trying to gather all the small white crystals. Even the 70-minute drive from the airport to my grandparents’ house did not diminish my excitement. I sat in the backseat, playing with my fingers after rejecting my mother’s gloves, wondering how much my frozen fingers looked like the baby carrots I refused to eat that morning.

I was excited because I love my maternal grandparents; I was certain that my northern grandparents would have the same amiable smiles and would also offer me countless sweets.

My grandparents did offer me countless sweets the moment I stepped into their door, but my excitement disappeared when they greeted me. Their northern accents were so strong that I could not understand a single syllable. Everybody was communicating in an accent that I was never exposed to. Surrounded by my father’s family and their incomprehensible “language,” I felt lonelier than ever.

How could I not understand my own grandparents, who gave life to my father, who in turn gave life to me?

Noticing my sadness, my grandparents let me take my uncle’s puppy to the shore the next morning. My dad used to tell me that his hometown is so incomparable that “It has the most beautiful ocean in the world." He was right. The ocean was indeed spectacular; it was endless and flat like a mirror. Being away from all the chaos and distractions in the city, I heard the striking waves and my own breath. My feet were buried deep into the sand and my arms huddled the puppy. The puppy kept putting my right thumb in his mouth. It was one of the most peaceful and calming moments in my life. I still remember the soft feeling of the warm sand and the puppy's even warmer mouth.

I went back to my grandparents’ house after I was exhausted from playing. To my surprise, they were all waiting for me at the grand table. The plates on the table were covered in dumplings, a classic northern holiday dish. The room still strongly resembled the North, but my father’s family’s avoidance of using northern idioms and attempts to soften their intonation to mimic the southern accent when they spoke made my previous uneasiness vanish. I started watching and laughing at the northern stand-up comedy playing on the TV with everyone else. I tried to distinguish my “Rs” and “Ls.” I began to see that I am equally loved in both of my homes. I was no longer an outsider.

My visit to the northern town was almost eleven years ago, but I still clearly remember it today. It was the first time that I truly embraced both my northern and southern identities and was the first time that I finally realized that I am not half of any of my parents’ cultures, instead, I am double of both. Even though I am in a different country today, I take pride in my dual identity and I hope to carry it with me to my next destinations: college and beyond.