Personal Narrative: My Life As A Vietnamese Girl

Words: 1285
Pages: 6

I moved to Sunshine Harvester at the start of year 5, from a small catholic school in Fitzroy to a more modern suburb where the only people we see on the streets at night are either teenage boy who wants to graffiti on the walls of the fish and chip shops or drunken men who smell of urine and cigarettes. I admit I was pretty, one of those popular girls who would always have friends and got what they wanted, well that’s how people saw me as but it wasn’t true.
Every time I went to my family friend’s house or I met new people, they’ve always assumed I was a Vietnamese girl because of my round eyes, flat nose and half tanned and pale skin. However, I’m not Vietnamese, I’m Chinese; where my ancestors originated from the city of Guangdong and at the start of every New Year, my mother would praise the Buddha at 12 am; bringing out the sweets, new clothes and new shoes to eventually start fresh and cut off any off the bad luck we have possessed.
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These aren’t their real names, but I don’t want to expose them in case I say something bad. Anyways, from my time at Sacred Heart Primary School, I had always been one of the smartest – one, because there was another girl who I despised so much because she would always compete with me in the ‘around the world times table math game’. She was nice, and really pretty and one of those girls who didn’t have many or any friends at all. I always got awards at assembly, those merit ones that teachers now hardly give out – I got one every week and my parents used to be so proud of me. But moving to Sunshine Harvester was different. I started to pay less attention to my grades and more attention to boys, the way I looked, how other people saw me and what I had to have in order to fit in. This was my biggest