My Mother's Alternative: The "Homemade" Version by Jayden

My Mother's Alternative: The "Homemade" Version by Jayden - March 2023 Scholarship Essay

Who knew the answers to my problems were in my very home? It was specifically playing imaginary soccer with my cousins in times of boredom that started it all. Using whatever we could find around the house - the birthday boy’s inflatable bouncy ball (don’t worry, he didn’t mind) - we figmented series of games: basketball, soccer, dodgeball; all of which took place in the very cramped room of my uncle’s. And needless to say, there were the goals - simply laundry baskets sitting in front of the sinks - which became the source of numerous years of blithe competition amongst my cousins and I. There no longer was the need to buy a Nike soccer ball when the objects lying around at home was the answer to it all.
Over the years, I have unconsciously examined and mirrored my mother’s inclinations - everything we needed could be found in our very own house. My ravenous appetite for Indian chicken makhani accompanied with garlic naan was debated with the suggested usual homemade braised catfish and rice. My midnight motivation to workout led me to ask my mother for a jump rope where she was able to stitch up my own rope with her crafty skills and sewing machine - her alternative to driving down the street to purchase it. Noticing this proclivity for hard work, eventually, I would begin to discover the similarities that bound my family and I together.
But of all the several similarities found, there was a prevalent conception we didn’t agree upon - medical aid. Although my mother have accustomed to this American life, trips to the doctors have proved to be incompatible with them, specifically my mother’s inability to communicate her symptoms in English - predicaments concerning self-diagnosis of a runny or a stuffy nose - and so I would translate for her. Without a surprise, my mother turned to home remedies. The classic steaming pot became the usual in times of sickness. The concoction - an assortment of herbs tossed in boiling water - in combination with a blanket to enclose the heat was believed to “sweat out” the illness. My universe, dominated by myopic parental influences, forged the realization that although my parents finally found a Vietnamese doctor, many immigrants too live in this same world.
When I volunteered at Kaiser Permanente Hospital, I was ecstatic interacting with patients despite the ethnic barrier. When patient after patient came up to me for assistance - whether it be where the nearest pharmacy was or needing help arranging COVID vaccines - striving to create a comfortable atmosphere for the non-English speaking immigrants was my priority. Once, while assisting a patient towards the orthopedics center, I noticed a green bottle identical to the ones I had seen in my relatives’ cabinets countless times. Inside was the topical anesthetic many Asian people use to treat common medical problems: medicated oil. I realized that this elderly Chinese woman, like many of my family members, was skeptical of Western medicine, and had much more trust in traditional Asian medicine, like acupuncture and traditional oils. A reminder that I shared her sentiments regarding traditional treatments, but let her know that the hospital was a place of reassurance and trustworthiness finally convinced her.
In her, a reflection of my mother was present. Although the embedded roots of their heritage conflicted with my “Americanized” self, my mother’s determined nature to find the “homemade” version is a quality I will forever bring with me. The beauty in breaking down cultural impediments has taught me the importance of understanding the diverse bases my mother and I were raised on. My mother’s ability to help me appreciate people with diverse backgrounds and to bring immigrant experiences together through a universal medical barrier has made me give all my admiration to her. The theme of unity in diversity, through experiences like these, have shown me the social and cultural aspects of healthcare, and are times when I’ve been able to help immigrants through challenges like the ones my mother experienced. By working with people of diverse backgrounds, such as my Vietnamese mother and the Chinese woman, I have not only broadened my cultural horizons, but I have alleviated the uncertain atmosphere many immigrants have around medical care. There is one indisputable certainty however: a visit to the doctor is better than any home-made remedy.