To figure out who I am and how I got here, we have to take it back and preview all 18 years of my life. From high school to middle to even all the way back to as far as I could remember, to the monstrous boy, who looked cute and adorable, but became a pain because his wondrous and curious brain always seemed hard to control. But what kid is perfect? None! We all have our stories, and this is mine.
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Island Lahi (island boy) |
When I was just a little kid I was being exposed to my environment. Growing up on Guam I learned the Chamorro ways and traditions; such as, speak when spoken to, boys stay outside, respect elders, etc. Then a couple years later, my father was stationed to Virginia Beach, VA. And because my dad was in the Navy we were always stationed near the beach, but being an island boy required the ocean and that bomb sea food. While growing up in Virginia I encountered a lot. From having new friends who were ghetto and loud, to the age where boys had to prove themselves by doing the most pull ups, to living in a house full of 15 people.
Why 15 people you may ask, well my family believes strongly that you should help family as much as possible. There were two families living under a two story-three bedroom house. From the 15 family members, two were foster care, and of the two one still peed the bed at the age of seven. Two others were considered handicapped from birth, so important care and doctor appointments, along with daily visits from the nurses were a must. Then of course the teens and the kids had their drama. Growing up and maturing much quickly before I could even hit the two digits came with all the responsibilities and helping with the family, it wasn’t my choice. However, I can’t complain and say life was hell, it wasn’t, it was just hectic, but somehow my parents managed to give me the best childhood memories. And at the end of the day, despite the drama and differences were able to eat as one whole family, and enjoy each other’s company. We were basically the Chamorro Brady Bunch!
Now my elementary years were the years when I opened my eyes and began to just take in everything. Now were packing our bags and moving to Italy.
Now my middle school years were similar to an experiment. I would try different things and do things differently. If I didn’t like it, best believe, it would be “dead & gone” in a second. Now Middle school was similar to the movie Mean Girls? Now picture that, but instead of high school, picture immature middle school students acting as if they were in the wild. I never knew middle school could be so cruel.
Looking back, I hate my middle school years, because even up to now I have insecurities because of my past. However, when I moved to Italy I was lucky enough to have cousins living there prior to my family and me being stationed there, but they were already marked by the school standards. They were fat nerds, who no one cared for but the other nerds. On my first day I was already about to get in a fight when some random kid whispered, “Yo mama!” Not knowing what exactly that meant, whether it was a derogatory phrase or a joke, but as a daring kid I was, I replied “no, your mama!” Having him explode in my face, screaming that I don’t know his mother, and that I shouldn’t be talking “smack” about her, was like a welcome to your new middle school. This whole situation escalated when he said we were going to fight during snack break. Now having my heart pound so hard where I could hear it, I didn’t know what to do, but thankfully I had random yet kind strangers calm him down. From that day I was the new kid who almost fought the bully. As the years went on I hung out with the “cool kids” and did everything they did such as; making fun of people and walking the halls as if it was our playground our castle that we owned. But before I knew it, everything turned for the worse, people began to hate me, and talk behind my back, calling me names like “the Chinese man” and even speaking to me with some made up Asian language. From that moment I was invisible for a while. However, I was able to run away from the reality because I was living in ITALIA, a popular vacation and tourist destination. So as soon as I got off of school and my parents were off of work, we would run away to the ancient ruins, and get lost in the tight-cobble stone streets, doing what the Italianos did. Being away from other Americans, and enjoying the beauty Italy had to offer, was like a breath of fresh air. But the thing about the military is that there is always a family moving because their family is stationed elsewhere, and the end of my eighth grade year, it was our time to move yet again. But there’s always a new bunch of people coming in who were stationed in Italy. So it was like a new beginning every year for everyone. I was like a cat with nine lives, every year and every station came with a new start.
Now from middle school to high school, from beautiful Europe to east coast California, I was excited for another fresh start, but little did I know, as soon as walked into Blackstock I realized I was not ready. Living in Oxnard for a while I realized that drugs, sex, gangs were normal and a daily habit for some. And although I barely attended Blackstock, I already had attracted the “haters” like flies to some meat. People would yet again call me “chino” aka “Chinese man” and call me gay because of the way I acted. But thank God I met an interesting group that respected me and who I chose to be.


Ending my eighth grade year at Blackstock, I moved to Channel Islands High School. And since I barely moved to Blackstock near the end of my eight grade year, I barely knew anyone, so moving to a High School, was even scarier, more new people, more unfamiliar faces! You would think I would be excited for another “fresh start” but I wasn’t. But thank God, he sent me an angel, and had me meet this friendly group of people, although they were a little awkward, I did not complain, because friends were friends. However, while I attended Channel Islands I found myself at a cross road. I hung out with two cliques, the nerds and the “pretty girls.” I had a choice to choose the nerds or the group that had influence of the bad things in life. My whole freshman year was a disaster. But my sophomore year, my parents moved yet again, but this time just across town, now I was attending Pacifica High School. The school that looked like a prison and that I was reluctant to attend, turned out to be best school ever, my last three years of high school are memorable. It started a little rocky, but I soon had my life on track, and knew what I wanted in life. Sports, clubs, friends…what else could I ask for! I did have small incidents here and there but nothing to the extreme.
I had many incidents that over the course of time, it began to shape and form who I am, similar to the Grand Canyon! Now the Grand Canyon was not formed over night, it took years to get it to look the way it does, years for it to reach its perfection. But in my case I became who I am based on what I have been through, who I met, what I have seen…the list goes on. As the saying goes, “think of hard times and haters as sand paper, they may rub you and scratch you in the wrong way, but at the end, you end up smooth and polished and the sand paper, is still worn out and ugly.” Of all the things I learned, I will remember this, know who you want to be, don’t have anyone tell you otherwise, and life to the fullest as if tomorrow would never come!