I am Vietnamese, I am American

I am a Vietnamese, I am Dorian of the United States. When people ask me about Vietnamese culture, the first thing to come to mind is Durian's fruit. Unlike the strawberries and cherries found in Safeway, Durian fruit does not seem to be edible at first glance. The whole fruit seems to be dirty old football, except for Durian, which weighs nearly 3 pounds. A 1 inch long nail and a hard brown skin cover the fruit giving an elaborate look. On the inside, yellow kidney shaped flakes are like orange slices.

I have long been told that my culture is very strange, unpopular and foreign. I do not even think of myself as an expert on my heritage property. But this did not change the fact that I am a Vietnamese and I am an American. I live in the intersection of two cultures and I am proud of both. I do not use my own knowledge and experience as Vietnamese Americans anyone else. All of us have our own unique experience and our goal is to create a safe space to celebrate our culture and experience. If we unite as a colored person, we can change the direction of cultural integration and create truly unique and beautiful things in this country. We can begin to create a world not judged by our culture.

I certainly know that I am a Vietnamese. My parents taught me to speak Vietnamese and on Sunday I went to a Vietnamese school to learn how to read and write Vietnamese and went to a Buddhist temple in Vietnam with my family. But until that day, I understood the true meaning of becoming a Canadian in Vietnam. My parents are entrepreneurs. When they landed in Canada, they temporarily engaged in humble work and began to build their own lives here; my father was a car shop and my mother near Strathcona in Vancouver We opened a very popular coffee shop for. . A few years later, my parents started their second business, and the third business. My family and I thought that I was normal.

In the late 1970s my parents opened the second Vietnam grocery store in downtown San Jose, California. When I was young, I saw a sign at the shop window in a place not far from my parents. "Another American was driven away by the Vietnamese people." I want to know if a person I joined knows that my parents are working 12 to 14 hours a day. I want to know if that person knows my parents were shot at their shop on Christmas Eve. I know that this signature means that we are not Americans from this person's eyes, and maybe there are many others. I know that this logo tells the story, we are enemies, aliens and other people in the story. It took me a lifetime to get the logo and the tools to fight against the story that is also being told today.