by Irina D.

Created on: May 24, 2008   Last Updated: October 04, 2009

I was 12 years old, with a bright smile and a heart of gold. The world was mine and I felt untouchable. It was a hot summer day when my life was about to change forever.

I was born and raised in Bucharest, Romania. I lived what was considered to be a normal life' by post-communist era, Eastern European standards I had a family, friends and relatives; I went to school and engaged in enthralling activities of any other jubilant preteen. My normal life', however, suddenly turned upside down when my parents' unexpected divorce took into effect. Before I knew what was going on, I was on a plane crossing the Atlantic. Unknowingly at the time, I was on my way to conquer the American Dream.

As far as I can remember, I considered myself culturally aware and open. My coming here exposed me to many different cultures right from the start, betraying me, in a way, of my own cultural sensibility. The adjustment of the transition was tough; many nights were spent alone, crying, pleading for answers in the face of unfairness. As time went on, I became more comfortable within my new surrounding and in own skin. I eventually realized that I needed to grow, to go out and explore, embracing the new world around me.

My past ten years have been tough yet fulfilling. There has been a lesson learned every step of the way. In the beginning, I experienced a hard time with "American culture" I didn't have the opportunity of living and going to school in New York City, a much more diverse and culturally-friendly' urban setting than the New Jersey's more sheltered and culturally-closed environment. The majority of the kids at school were second or third generation Irish or Italian-Americans, inflexible and rather insensitive to cultural variety. They couldn't relate to someone who had the same experiences as his or her grandparents' (coming from a different country). I wanted nothing more than to fit in. They formed, in my eyes at the time, what deemed of being called "American culture."

My high school graduation ceremony held less than 120 graduates in my class. Having met people and frequenting New York City had helped remain culturally receptive. My college experience grounded my way of perceiving culturally-different individuals. No longer were the ways of the world limited my suburban world had suddenly expanded culturally.

Although all changes and experiences affect and alter one's character and being, the presence of culturally rooted strong ethnic bonds is evidently visible within my character. I grew up in a semi-Christian-Orthodox household, where deep emphasis was put on higher education, morality, dignity and credibility. These are all values that remain essential to me and I will pass them onto my own family someday.

I can say I've embraced the surrounding cultures and have found sound leverage within my own skin; however I still take pride in my own country's accomplishments and merits. I have always found the language difficult to forget, although at times I stagger over considerable words or forms of speech. My parents have remained close and socialize constantly with those of the same nationality, for obvious reasons.

Everyone possesses a different degree of cultural awareness, sensitivity and understanding. The traces are remarkable because they are never obsolete. Like a familiar childhood song, culture remains intact and unmistakably guides each of our steps throughout our lives.

Learn more about this author, Irina D..
Click here to send this author comments or questions.