My mom left everything behind when she was 16 to escape communism during the Vietnam War. She was one of the so called,”boat people,” and lived in Malaysia for a year before immigrating to the United States in the 1970’s. I was born in the mid-1990’s and didn’t really understand life as an immigrant in the U.S. until I learned about how immigrants are actually treated today. In retrospect, I was kind of a little brat because I would question why my mom would always push me to do well in school when she didn’t go to college herself. (She was an immigrant woman in the 70’s, the odds were against her.) Not only was she raised in the countryside, she was also a woman in a very traditional culture. (i.e., It was expected of her to do things like cook and clean.) I’ve come to truly appreciate being able to call a place home and being an educated male in today’s society. Growing up, my mom would ask me if I’d take care of her when I got older and I said I would. I used to view it as this huge responsibility and was stressed out by it. I now view this as the greatest gift I can give her because not only is she a frickin’ war survivor, but she also was able to give me more than enough love to make up for the lack of a father-figure.