For as long as I can remember, I've always known myself to be "normal". However, the more I traveled and became more culturally aware, my differences started to show more prominently. Differences between I and my classmates, my peers, and even my family. 

     My parents so graciously adopted me from southern China when I was a mere 11 months old, from a small fishing neighborhood: Shiudong town from Dianbai Guangdong Province. Albeit, for the majority of my childhood I lived in a small suburb of Pittsburgh, PA. 

     I grew up innocent, as all children do, to the harsh reality, sheltered by my parents. They taught me to love, to be grateful, to always say my "please" and "thank you". I was so inherently normal. I ate cake at birthday parties and played outside in mud. Although, I acted like all other "normal" children did, others never failed to let me forget my heritage. I struggled through all the stereotypical asian pokes. Constantly being reminded that I am different. I have a different hair type. I have a different eye shape. I have different blood. 

     This internal battle is something I've fought for quite some time, only tackling it in my late high school years. However, I will never completely expel it from my life. I will always be reminded. Whether it be at restaurants when waiters ask me and my parents if we want separate checks, or while I am out and others assume I speak an asian dialect, or even when I'm at the doctors and they don't have answers for me about my health conditions. 

     This constant reminder makes me feel as though I'm stuck in mud. Stuck underwater, in a world lively of asian culture, ostracized by my home that is a only a world away. From this struggle, I've developed my Spring 2018 drawing final: