My dad is Vietnamese. He came to America on a boat meant for fifteen, but instead crammed with three hundred and forty six people . He came to America as a child in 1986, not knowing a single ounce of English. My dad was the second oldest out of his five brothers. He lived pretty much how’d you expect growing up with five boys but with the added challenge of not understanding English.

Much like other immigrants, he grew up poor. His everyday meal was rice and fish sauce. Fast food was a luxury to them. So much of a luxury, that my dad got a job at McDonalds just to be able to eat their burgers for lunch. Basically, they were poor. 

My dad likes to define himself as scrappy. The literal definition being “disorganized, untidy, or incomplete parts” but he takes the term to a new level. My dad has always enjoyed video games, but again, they were too poor to afford the new atari or the new genesis. But my dad wasn’t satisfied with not having one so he saved up money through hustling and bargaining to get his way. And that’s just the way that he grew up. 

I think the most important thing that he learned growing up was adversity. He faced his challenges head on and didn’t stop until he overcame them. Although he’s a little hot headed sometimes and harsh, he is the person I strive to be. The person I want to grow into. He is my pillar of strength and my number one supporter. Even though he never says “I love you”, I know he does, and he knows that I love him as well.