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I wish I could tell myself these answers, but identity, no matter what it’s based on is always constructed and deconstructed. Built-up and destroyed.

I hardly knew some of the people there yet it was, in some comforting, familiar way, its own family meal.

You will watch and read content from cultural icons of my time. You will gain a balanced appreciation for the arts to complement your university application and become inspired by the wits of Ali Wong, David Chang and Awkwafina.

Behind my face mask, I felt tomato bits stuck in my mouth. But I couldn’t let anybody know they were there. I had to prove myself through the fluency of my English that I was from here just like everyone else. That I was not the other.

After being in Vancouver for so long, I find myself struggling to tell my mother about my day in Chinese, bogged down by English jargon and unable to explain my studies to my grandmother and giving up on reading Chinese altogether.

The grocery store can’t replace my parents’ cooking or my brother’s sarcasm or my family’s love, but I guess it’s good enough for now.

As the days passed, it became increasingly apparent that we as Asian-Canadians did not belong. I was sporting a Korean-inspired fringe at the time, which seemed to warrant additional attention such as textbook ‘are you from China?’ racial comments.

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