Personal Background
Everyone was Korean in Seoul. No one was Korean in Prichard. Motorcycles and mopeds crammed Seoul''s roads. Trees and flowers lined Prichard''s streets. In cosmopolitan Seoul, I was a favorite son showered with attention from a large circle of extended family. In suburban Prichard, knowing no one but my parents, I was the only Asian child in the neighborhood. Indeed immigrating to the U.S. from Korea and settling down in a suburb of Mobile as a twelve-year old child dramatically changed my life. Uprooted from the people I knew and the things I was used to, I felt lonely, helpless, and uncomfortable in my new surroundings. However, I redirected the negative feelings into a force of strength that propelled me to excel in academics. Furthermore, the immigrant experience gave me adaptation skills that helped me as a foreign exchange student in Japan and as a businessman working with people of different cultures and backgrounds.
Pampered materially and nurtured emotionally in Seoul, I lived with relatives close by and a helping hand available whenever I needed it. My school, while stiflingly competitive and committed to regular doses of corporal punishment, presented a system which I understood and was familiar with. Although the neighborhood lacked open areas, it was a close-kit community where children addressed the lady next door as "aunt" and housewives frequently shared recipes. I was completely at home, ethnically, linguistically, and in every other 英语论文网 【http://www.51lunwen.org】respect.
My new life in Prichard contrasted sharply with my old one in Seoul. The neighborhood, while serene, lacked the extended support network of friends and family I had back home. School frustrated and demoralized me because I had learned only the first fourteen letters of the English alphabet and a few basic words before our arrival. After a fourteen-hour workday in the family restaurant, my exhausted parents were unable to help me. Further compounding my difficulties, I experienced racial bigotry for the first time in my life. Ethnic slurs and insults, which I managed to understand with rapidity, made me painfully aware I was different from others.
In the face of these obstacles, I started to question the purpose behind immigrating to the U.S. Seeing my parents'' exhausted silhouettes seven times a week, I began to understand the motivation behind the move that forever altered my life: a chance at a brighter future in the U.S. Because no one could help us, we had to help ourselves. Armed with this reinvigorating realization, I began to hoist myself out of loneliness, helplessness, and discomfort.
Since my school did not offer remedial English classes for immigrant students, I began studying with only the help of an English-Chinese dictionary. Although I was focused and determined, streams of below average grades accompanied my first year in school. Nonetheless, by expending two to three times the effort of others, I started to notice signs of improvement. A well-
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