No Longer Stuck between Two Cultures BY Victoria Kaplun

As a child, I often felt stuck between two cultures. Growing up the daughter of immigrants encompassed more than putting up with some mispronounced, accent-riddled words at parent-teacher conferences. I didn’t know the words to common nursery rhymes like “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star,” and I didn’t recognize many young children’s books like Goodnight Moon. I didn’t wear the same clothing brands, and my lunches didn’t consist of the typical peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. In my earliest years, I felt behind and confused, feelings I didn’t enjoy. I knew I could do better, so I strived to excel. I pushed myself to learn the alphabet before the teacher even taught it to us.

No Longer Stuck between Two Cultures

BY Victoria Kaplun

“What are you? Where do you come from?” These questions, posed by my freshman year history teacher, brought anticipation and excitement to the faces of my classmates, but only elicited dread and anxiety from me. I had always felt out of place amongst my classmates and uncomfortable sharing my heritage with others. My story is not like those of my peers, the vast majority of whom come from well established generations of Catholic-Italian, Irish, or Portuguese families. Unlike them, I’m the first generation of my Eastern European-Jewish family to be born in America. These questions marked the beginning of an emotional journey that would force me to confront an internal identity crisis deep within myself and eventually bring me to recognize my heritage in a new, positive light.

As a child, I often felt stuck between two cultures. Growing up the daughter of immigrants encompassed more than putting up with some mispronounced, accent-riddled words at parent-teacher conferences. I didn’t know the words to common nursery rhymes like “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star,” and I didn’t recognize many young children’s books like Goodnight Moon. I didn’t wear the same clothing brands, and my lunches didn’t consist of the typical peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. In my earliest years, I felt behind and confused, feelings I didn’t enjoy. I knew I could do better, so I strived to excel. I pushed myself to learn the alphabet before the teacher even taught it to us. This alphabet experience, as well as many other instances, laid an early foundation for what would develop into a passionate work ethic that would serve me for years to come.

I soon internalized the correlation between hard work and achieving goals. My mother always used to say, “Practice makes perfect; proper preparation prevents poor performance.” I took great pride in my accomplishments. I was determined to work hard, so I submerged myself in my studies, sports, and clubs. Essentially, everywhere I could participate, I did, and with all the passion and energy I had to offer. Through the years, during many of those accent-riddled parent-teacher conferences, my teachers commented that my work was always done very well. Thus, always striving to do the best I can versus just good enough has become my modus operandi, one that has carried me far.

As I have traveled  through high school, I have identified another striking difference between me and my peers. I met individuals who don’t believe in the concept of the American Dream, people who feel that it is impossible for my generation to achieve prosperity in our country.  I strongly believe this is not true. Watching my parents ascend through the economic classes, from working minimum wage jobs while learning English to becoming top notch professionals making a great life for both my sister and me, has taught me what it takes to be successful: an impeccable work ethic, strong willpower, and a courageous desire to push forward against all odds, never losing sight of what’s important. Whether it’s running for a position in a Student Council election I’m not favored to win, preparing a speech that is to be given in front of the entire student body, navigating through the challenges of being the only girl on a robotics team, going into survival mode during a strenuous internship at a London neuroscience lab, or getting through my vigorous schedule of Honors/AP classes, I continue to propel myself forward. I never quit. My parents character, which rubbed off on me, has made me a more versatile and highly motivated individual.

I’ve outgrown the embarrassing moments I once dreaded, and I now treasure the lessons and values that have been instilled in me. I’m proud of who I am and where I come from. My family, my background, and my experiences are what make up my unique personal identity, one I wouldn’t trade for anything in the world.