I first knew him as the boy with the motorized scooter. He drove down my street every day as an alternative scenic route home. We were introduced through friends and began to talk more frequently; shortly after we became boyfriend and girlfriend. We were best friends and almost inseparable. After four years of dating, we were part of each other’s families; his sisters were my best friends and I was even a bridesmaid at one of their weddings. His senior year came and it was time for him to make a decision for his future. One day, while we were alone, he told me that we needed to talk. He said, “I’ve decided to join the Navy.” My world nearly stopped and millions of frantic questions filled my head. “What are you thinking? What if you get deployed? What if I never see you again? What about us?” I did not want to think about it, so the subject was rarely brought up in the next couple months. Exactly three months before he was about to be shipped to the recruit training command, I finally brought up the subject. “So, what really made you decide to join the Navy?” “I wanted to become someone,” he said. “I don’t want to be like the rest of my family-- working hard to make ends meet. I don’t have the GPA or money to get into some school. That’s why I joined the Navy.”
At that moment, I had never been so proud of someone and so ashamed of myself. His parents were immigrants and barely knew English. He had difficulty learning in school and was not placed in upper level classes. I, on the other hand, took everything for granted. English was the primary language in my household and I thrived on academic challenges; I knew I would have no problem getting into college. But in that moment, the outstanding school record had no relevance, for the person who was standing out front of me was willing to work all his life for something that was handed to me. This year, for the first time in my life, I set a goal for myself: to gain acceptance into the college of my choice.
Throughout the four years that my boyfriend and I have been dating, I have learned a lot about different cultures and how to be more accepting of others. At first, I was uncomfortable going out with his family because I was always the only white girl in a group of Cambodians. But as time went on, it did not bother me as much and we would make jokes about it; I was fondly dubbed “white girl”. I loved his family because it did not matter to them that I was non-Cambodian; they accepted me the minute I walked into their lives. I used to think that they were upset that he was dating outside his race, when really it did not phase them at all. The people that I have met within his culture did not treat me differently because I am not Cambodian, but welcomed me as if I was a member of their family. In addition, I no longer wonder what my family will think if I am a part of an interracial marriage because it does not matter to me. I believe that people should only be judged by their personality, not by what race they are.