"Please remove your shoes before entering the house." This sign, almost invariably stored away in the depths of my family’s closet alongside our Christmas ornaments, sees the light of day but once a year at our annual team party. A look of confusion, often accompanied by a slight chuckle, is the typical reaction to the words brazenly posted at our front door. While it takes my teammates a few seconds to process the words before following the instructions, this...

*This essay had variations depending on the school. Century Plaza: Misnomer would be an understatement. My grandparents’ tiny mom and pop store amidst the sprawling Indiana suburbs, with aisles crammed full of drugstore cosmetics and miscellaneous knick knacks, is home to many of my earliest childhood memories. This is my family’s version of the “back in my day” immigrant story told time and time again. I may not have known it back then, but I see it now: this...

The ring of a loud bell startles us back to reality, and we take off in full speed. My legs are exhausted but I keep running, with fourteen other panting boys behind me. This is not the time to be complaining about our sore legs from practice or the hours of studying that have worn us out: right now, our lives are on the line. When we reach the finish line, clutching onto the snacks we have purchased a mighty...