My Culture Samra Vithlani

With six layers on, I waddled out the door, feeling and looking like an oompa loompa. My mother had dressed me in layer after layer, and, begrudgingly, I had allowed myself to be smothered with an array of puffy jackets and scarves. The weather abroad was nothing like that of my neighborhood in sunny California, where I needed only to wear one layer regardless of the season.

To say I only grew up in the average-sized suburban city of Chino Hills, California would be a lie. Although it is the only place I have resided, I did a lot of growing up in other places due to my parents’ desire for me to learn about the world. My parents are self-made people, both of whom worked hard to travel from their birthplace in Africa to England for an education, and then to America to make a living. Perhaps this is why it is of the utmost importance to them that I not only cherish my education and relationships, but also that I learn about other cultures. Because of their persistent belief that I should experience the world for myself, I have had the opportunity to do some incredible things: including cheer at the Olympics in England, watch a high-speed lion chase in Tanzania, and venture inside the beautiful Taj Mahal in India.

Although my...