I didn't think I was going to be around today. Unfortunately, Chinese visa problems has temporarily delayed my vacation to China, Vietnam and Thailand. Soooooooo, 9 years ago this day, I became a United States citizen. An accomplishment I am extremely proud of 
I dug this old speech from my records. I just thought I'd share my sentiments with y'all.
I am an American
I sit in solemn silence, wondering if I should even bother with this essay. I am not the ideal Vietnamese child; I am nothing special. Since I was born, English was never my primary language. However, English is now the language I think in, the only language I can express my true emotions. I am a naturalized Vietnamese child, proud of my heritage, yet forever attempting to grasp it. I merely know this: my morals and values, instilled in me by Vietnamese tradition make me who I am today. That is why I write, not because I have to, but to express my pride in my Vietnamese roots. I am Vietnamese. Sometimes, it is hard for me to believe. My grasp of the language is childish at best, and at times, I feel inadequate.
It is something that I am ashamed of, yet something I hope to rectify in the future. But I know I am Vietnamese. The ability to overcome hardship, to face fear and succeed is in my blood. As our people have always found light in every bad situation, I was raised to do the same. My ability to speak and write may not be up to par with other Vietnamese children but my heart and spirit will forever be 100% Vietnamese. My parents are the best. They have never ceased to amaze me. I grew up in Oakland, California, alongside hundreds of other Vietnamese families.
My parents worked long hours at their jobs to try to provide for my siblings and me. My mother was a seamstress, working 80-hour weeks. My father was a textile factory worker, logging 90-hour weeks. I never knew my parents. As a child, I was mad because they were never around for my siblings or me.
As the years moved by, I began to realize what my parents did for the family. Whenever I looked upon my father's eyes, I would weep terribly inside. He was among the top students in his class. All the teachers believed he would go on to do wonderful things. Greatness was his future. Now his body is shattered. His mind an endless fog of exhaustion. His hands rough as lava rock. His facial features appear that of a man 55 years old, not 35. Yet, when I cried, I also see a loving father. I see a man who sacrificed his entire life for his children. The sacrifices my mother and father made for their children are of untold heroics. When I cried, I see two people I love so dearly.
Between my sister and I, we did the cleaning, some cooking, laundry and all the little chores around the house. On top of that, we cared for my baby brother. At such a young age, I learned what responsibility meant. I learned what an adult life was like.
Life was tough for me as child. I was an ESL student (English as a second language). I had to take remedial math courses as well. Word problems were too difficult for me to comprehend. Nevertheless, I persevered. In time, I became a better and more capable student. By the time I got into high school, I started to realize my potential. I knew that I could graduate at the top of my class and get into a great college. However, my family’s financial situation was very shaky. I never told my parents about my academic accomplishments. Instead, I lead them to believe I was just an average student. A vow of silence was created between my sister, brother and I.
Yeah, I worked. Ever since I was 15, I worked until nine o'clock on school days and full time during the summer. I tried my best to balance it with extra curricular activities, debate, schoolwork and volunteering. I worked 30 hours a week to help my parents make ends meet. Somehow, I managed to squeeze sleep in the equation. Occasionally, I would wake in the morning to learn I fell asleep upon my schoolbooks.
The day I received the acceptance letter from an Ivy League school, the University of Pennsylvania, I told my parents. I told them about the grades I received in the school. I told them about my 4.0 GPA. I told them I was speaking as valedictorian at graduation. For the first time in my life, my parents told me they were so proud of me. They looked at me and told me that I was worth their sacrifices. I cried.
I stand before you today, not as a fellow student, not as your valedictorian, not as a Vietnamese survivor. I stand before you today as an American. If not for the sacrifices of soldiers before me, I would be somewhere else in the world. I would not be free in the United States of America. But of my accomplishments, of the hardships I have overcome, of my values and morals that I hold dear, I stand proud. My appearance state that I am Vietnamese. In my heart, if no where else, I am American.
ArmySon
I dug this old speech from my records. I just thought I'd share my sentiments with y'all.
I am an American
I sit in solemn silence, wondering if I should even bother with this essay. I am not the ideal Vietnamese child; I am nothing special. Since I was born, English was never my primary language. However, English is now the language I think in, the only language I can express my true emotions. I am a naturalized Vietnamese child, proud of my heritage, yet forever attempting to grasp it. I merely know this: my morals and values, instilled in me by Vietnamese tradition make me who I am today. That is why I write, not because I have to, but to express my pride in my Vietnamese roots. I am Vietnamese. Sometimes, it is hard for me to believe. My grasp of the language is childish at best, and at times, I feel inadequate.
It is something that I am ashamed of, yet something I hope to rectify in the future. But I know I am Vietnamese. The ability to overcome hardship, to face fear and succeed is in my blood. As our people have always found light in every bad situation, I was raised to do the same. My ability to speak and write may not be up to par with other Vietnamese children but my heart and spirit will forever be 100% Vietnamese. My parents are the best. They have never ceased to amaze me. I grew up in Oakland, California, alongside hundreds of other Vietnamese families.
My parents worked long hours at their jobs to try to provide for my siblings and me. My mother was a seamstress, working 80-hour weeks. My father was a textile factory worker, logging 90-hour weeks. I never knew my parents. As a child, I was mad because they were never around for my siblings or me.
As the years moved by, I began to realize what my parents did for the family. Whenever I looked upon my father's eyes, I would weep terribly inside. He was among the top students in his class. All the teachers believed he would go on to do wonderful things. Greatness was his future. Now his body is shattered. His mind an endless fog of exhaustion. His hands rough as lava rock. His facial features appear that of a man 55 years old, not 35. Yet, when I cried, I also see a loving father. I see a man who sacrificed his entire life for his children. The sacrifices my mother and father made for their children are of untold heroics. When I cried, I see two people I love so dearly.
Between my sister and I, we did the cleaning, some cooking, laundry and all the little chores around the house. On top of that, we cared for my baby brother. At such a young age, I learned what responsibility meant. I learned what an adult life was like.
Life was tough for me as child. I was an ESL student (English as a second language). I had to take remedial math courses as well. Word problems were too difficult for me to comprehend. Nevertheless, I persevered. In time, I became a better and more capable student. By the time I got into high school, I started to realize my potential. I knew that I could graduate at the top of my class and get into a great college. However, my family’s financial situation was very shaky. I never told my parents about my academic accomplishments. Instead, I lead them to believe I was just an average student. A vow of silence was created between my sister, brother and I.
Yeah, I worked. Ever since I was 15, I worked until nine o'clock on school days and full time during the summer. I tried my best to balance it with extra curricular activities, debate, schoolwork and volunteering. I worked 30 hours a week to help my parents make ends meet. Somehow, I managed to squeeze sleep in the equation. Occasionally, I would wake in the morning to learn I fell asleep upon my schoolbooks.
The day I received the acceptance letter from an Ivy League school, the University of Pennsylvania, I told my parents. I told them about the grades I received in the school. I told them about my 4.0 GPA. I told them I was speaking as valedictorian at graduation. For the first time in my life, my parents told me they were so proud of me. They looked at me and told me that I was worth their sacrifices. I cried.
I stand before you today, not as a fellow student, not as your valedictorian, not as a Vietnamese survivor. I stand before you today as an American. If not for the sacrifices of soldiers before me, I would be somewhere else in the world. I would not be free in the United States of America. But of my accomplishments, of the hardships I have overcome, of my values and morals that I hold dear, I stand proud. My appearance state that I am Vietnamese. In my heart, if no where else, I am American.
ArmySon