It is the natural tendency of human beings to reject what is alien to them. Because of my Korean bibimbap, marinated kimchi, and other indigenous dishes, my lunch brought flavors - and smells - into my school that weren’t widely accepted. The lunch bell would ring, and all the kids would scurry towards the lunch tables, my friends and I included. I would open my lunch containers and they would discharge a strong odor that reminded me of home. But the excited smiles of my friends would quickly fade, replaced by a frown etched on their faces. A few seconds later, I was bombarded with untimely, hurtful comments triggered simply by my food’s odor. “Ewwwww. What is that smell? Too bad your country eats food like that,” My friend exclaimed, wrinkling her nose. “I heard they also eat bats,” her twin sister whispered in her ear, audibly. “You should ask your mom to pick up McDonalds like my mom does,” my other friend remarked, holding up her chicken nuggets to emphasize her point.

 This made me abhor my culture and its meals. From then on, I would agree to every insult and bring up the “My mom forces me because it’s healthy for my throat issues'' excuse. I began asking my mom to stop packing those traditional dishes, and start packing me basic PB&J sandwiches. At first, she was puzzled at my outlandish request, but I assured her it was because I wanted to be well acquainted with other foods.

 I soon realized the deprecating, contentious world had lured me into its claustrophobic confines, and the pain I felt every day was overridden by my longing to fit in.  This, in turn, aroused an internal conflict on whether I was to show the superficial Kate, a person who acquiesces people to walk all over her, or the bona fide Kate, the person who wouldn’t let people's judgments define her. Conflicted, I confided in my mom. She told me she did not immigrate to America as a proud Korean and work her butt off at a laundromat for years just to have her own daughter sit around and let people slander her and her country. Feeling uplifted, I found the courage to leave those friends behind. Eventually, I found a diverse group of friends that embraced my culture and respected it.

To the girls who insulted my indigenous meals, I forgive you because your actions helped me grow into a better person with more compassion, forgiveness, and social grace. Even today, I am subjected to snide remarks, and neighbors pulling up their mask whenever they see me, glaring, heedless of the fact I’m also wearing a mask. Without our ambivalence, I would have reacted in a way that would’ve ended terribly, but because of my learned social grace, I hold my chin high, while motioning to my mask, in an effort to remind them, I’m just another human being practicing safety.