When I was a little kid I always had so many questions inside my head about things around me. Why do I exist in this world? Why are people so different? But I could never get an answer to my questions.

I was born in Saigon in Vietnam. Saigon is known as the most crowded city in Vietnam. I came from a really poor family. My father worked repairing old broken home appliances like TVs, radios, fans, and sometimes motor- cycles. My mom worked at a glass factory, but she stopped working to stay home to take care of me. My sister started working at sixteen. She is the only person who knew how to read and write in Vietnamese and Chinese. My sister was always the person who helped the family with all our documents.

I was just a typical seven year old kid, playing around the house without any worries. Our family didn’t make a lot of money, but we always loved each other no matter what the conditions were.

I really wanted to go to school, but my parents had financial problems so they couldn’t pay for the monthly tuition. I didn’t understand. I had all of these questions in my head that I wanted answers to and I felt that they were unexplainable. Sometimes I would try to ask adults around me my questions. Many would shoo me away, but a few would smile and try to answer me.

When I was eight years old my parents heard about one Temple near my house that had a free school for children from poor families like mine. My parents immediately signed me up. I was so excited for the first day of school, I kept smiling the whole afternoon. But, I was surprised to find I didn’t like the classes. I would write with my left hand and they would hit me and then tell me “Write with your right hand.” We weren’t taught to write or read, just the Vietnamese alphabet all the time.

Later that year our family got a phone call saying that our immigrant paper- work for the United States was approved. Our family was in joy with tears and happiness. As we prepared to go to the U.S., I stopped going to the free school because it seemed like it wasn’t teaching much.

We came to the U.S. in May 2011. I was ten years old. In September, I got to start school here. I was really excited and scared at the same time. I remember waking up really early on the morning of the first day of school. It was the first time I got to go to a proper school and it felt great. Everyone in my class was trying to help me out and show me my way around school.

When I first got here it was hard, I only knew the words “Yes” and “No” and “I don’t know.” When I was in school I was so curious about everything around me. I remember one teacher named Mr. Bishop had this comic book that was really old, but to me it was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. It seemed like everything was new and different in a way that made my head feel loaded with new questions and ideas about everything and how things work and what things were for.

Now, after my many years of going to school in America, I finally can find some answers to some of my questions. Some answers I got from my teachers, and some I got from people in the community, on the streets, in the grocery stores, and other places I have visited in cities and towns around our state. Some answers I get from my own experiences. I still have a lot to learn and I still have questions that haven’t been answered yet. But I know that one day the big questions I have will get their answers if I keep searching for them.

© Thanh. All rights reserved. If you are interested in quoting this story, contact the national team and we can put you in touch with the author’s teacher.