There I was, at the airport nearing my terminal. As I stepped onto the plane holding my mother's hand, confusion had overwhelmed me and I had become uneasy. I did not really know what was going on at the time, evident that I was only a child. I was simpleminded and under the submission of my parents. It was a dreadfully long journey; however, I had slept like a baby the majority of the ride. When I was little, I clearly remember my theories regarding the world. I thought that every country was a separate planet on its own. Therefore, whenever we traveled I believed we were entering a new planet. Finally, we landed 'in the capital of the country. It was exceptionally cold, a city full of snow. I had departed my country of birth, the only land I knew, and which I had been brought into, my home. My life was left behind me as I watched the clouds drift by and the water flow, only to find a new land emerging; a new home. I never really took the time to comprehend the events taking place in my life. I was so young that nothing really mattered.

I stepped into my new classroom of Robert Bateman Elementary School located in Ottawa, Canada. It was my first year of school, a completely new beginning in a whole new 'world'. One could say I was scared, more intimated, and even more vulnerable. I was vulnerable to attack, for English was not my specialty.

Unlike the other children, I could not write a single letter or number, let alone write my name. One day, my teacher asked the class to write their names down. I held the pencil in my hand and stated blankly at the paper. I could not even understand what the request was. I looked around from paper to paper to see what everyone else was writing down. As my teacher walked around to see how all the kids were doing, she came to me and was startled. She kneeled down beside me and asked me to write my name. I looked right at her and heard what she was saying but I did not know what it meant. She quickly lost her temper. Soon enough she was yelling into my ear to spell my name. All the kids in the class turned around and witnessed my embarrassment. At that point I became vulnerable and weak. She then took the pencil from my hand and wrote it slowly as she spelled it out. I soon started to cry. Days past by as I strived to fit in and adjust to my new environment. It became harder and harder because it was dreadfully difficult to find friends in school when no one would look past your skin color. Other kids would look at me while they would snicker and whisper to each other. It became hard and even though I could not comprehend this, it brought me to tears on the inside. All of these hardships led to my most awful experience ever, at the end of the day the bell rang and school was dismissed, I walked the same route I took everyday. I had to walk around the school and at the corner of the school, I would take a turn, and I would be at the front entrance where my father would pick me up everyday. As I turned the corner one day, a boy jumped out at me grabbed my hair. He pulled my hair while all my books fell to the floor. He then grabbed my hand as I pulled away; I grabbed my books and ran as fast as I could. I was completely terrified and confused and all my emotions scrambled at the same time and I did not mention the incident to my father.

The next day I turned that same corner, once again he was waiting there to surprise me. I saw him and decided to run, unfortunately he was much quicker then me and caught up. He grabbed me and punched me as hard as he could in my stomach. I fell to the ground in pain and I could not breathe. He kicked me while I was down, laughed and left me there in the cold. I lay there momentary and recollected my belongings and I went in the car. My dad noticed my distress and questioned it. I told him what happened and he asked me if he should come to the school, and I replied "No! I don't want to be a tattletale, Dad." Being a child, striving to be accepted, I thought not telling on him would be the better solution. I kept my mouth shut and this continued on for a couple of days, and every time I turned that very corner, which is vividly engraved in my memory, I would quiver. I tried hiding behind cats, and some days I would be lucky to find that he wasn't there. One day when the weather was good, I decided to blend in with the crowd so maybe he would not catch my eye.

Unfortunately, he saw me; he looked more enraged than ever as he chased me. However, this time I decided to fight back but he was too overpowering. He did something that day that crossed the line, something that I would never forget for the rest of my life. He clenched his fist and as he winded it up he thrusted it into my face. He directly hit my nose and it immediately started bleeding.

All I wanted, all I ever wanted to achieve was acceptance. I did everything in my power to be like all the other children. At playtime, or lunch, the kids would be inside playing with the variety of multiplayer toys, and when I asked to play, I was never welcomed. No one would ever want to play with me, let alone be my friend. When the sun was out, children used to go outside and play in the sand. I would go outside just to watch the other kids play and laugh. I never understood why I was so unwelcome and unwanted. I never did any harm to anybody. This is what brought me to tears everyday as I came home.

I have come a long way ever since, and I have finally adapted to my new lifestyle. I have learned that even at a young age, children discriminate. It is simply the way they have been brought up in the world. However, they are not the ones to blame. They are merely young children. The real question is who is to blame? Now that I have grown up, I have come to realize that even that child that had bullied me, was most likely a victim of abuse himself. When my dad decided to take control over the situation and inform the principal, as soon as the boy found out, I had noticed a sense of fear struck him. The bullying stopped, but I now understand that although what the boy was doing was awful he was not to blame. Children are effected by there parents in every way. That boy whether he was abused or witnessed prejudice and racism at home, is a by product of his parents. As time passes hopefully racism will fade and people will learn to treat everyone as equals.

If I were to look around me right now, I would most definitely see people of contrasting hair, skin, and eye colour. A less noticeable difference between the ones around us would be religion, in which people hold totally different beliefs. Even within each religion, there are types of believers who keep to themselves and believers who try to spread their religion. Religion is a very difficult and fragile subject to talk about. Although religion, similar to skin colour and culture, cannot be easily explained with words, most people have gone through personal experiences that have taught them a little about religion.

It was when I was in elementary school that I had a brush against one who did not have acceptance for ones with other religions. I went to an elementary school built beside a Christian school, and as we only had one playground between us, we were to share the area. Although this may seem like a pleasant meeting of different religions, it had the opposite effect on us students. The students from the Christian school seemed less generous than the students from my school, as we were all young and did not understand how other people have different ways of thinking about things. One seemingly normal lunch break, while my friend and I were at the playground, a boy younger than us from the Christian school came and told us that we were Satan if we were not Christian. When my friend and I stood there silent, dazzled by the boy's words, the boy simply continued to repeat his speech as though it were some kind of magic spell. At that time, I felt like I had seen a darker, colder part of religion where misunderstanding and intolerance of other religions can offend others around.

Later on in my life, I came to understand the fact that the boy was saying things without knowing what it meant. Therefore, the actual words of the foolish boy did not affect me. What affected me, though, was what made the boy say something like that to people non‑Christian. For several years, I could not help but dislike the Christian religion. The beliefs and reasoning of Christians did not give me a good impression of Christianity. I soon discovered how few words from an immature child could make people despise a religion that is supposed to support people in life.

In the past few years, I have learned that there are adults who say things alike as what the young boy had said. The belief that people will go to heaven only if they believe in God, is something everyone has surely heard, one time or another. I understand that adults say the same thing to others, just in a softer and indirect way. People with religions love their religion so much that they want to spread it. However, at the same time, they are hesitant to discriminate or criticize people without any religion and may offend others if they are not careful. Sometimes, people tend to think that a different belief means a belief that goes against their beliefs. However, all that anyone wants to do is to believe in themselves. To be respected, you must respect, and this should be taken for account, not only within one type of people, but for people of different skin colour and religion.

Through immature statements from a little boy, I feel like I have learned more about religion and the misunderstandings it may cause. As all people want to do is to believe in themselves with religion, no one should be taken away the right to believe in themselves. This world will not become any better in our time when the colour of people's skin and religions become issues for so many things. In the time when diversity is truly respected, this essay contest would not exist at all. Different skin colours and religions would be something as small as the different colours of flowers, unique in its own beauty.

I am open minded. I am tall, skinny and have 200 and something bones. I have a family, brothers, cousins, aunts, uncles. I have a dog, and a cat. I've got 10 fingers, and 10 toes, and very small ears. I have bushy eye brows, and cumbersome lips. I'm pretty sure you have a few things that I have. I bet you've dealt with being pushed around. Once in your life, when there wasn't really much you needed to worry about, someone just didn't like you for something small and insignificant. Now, if you're thinking to yourself, "no one ever did that to me!" then it was probably you.

It's easy to think back to that time, when you didn't have much going on, just playing with toys, or riding your bike, it wasn't very hard being a kid. It's hard to remember a day where it was miserable; it didn't seem to rain as a kid. Being young, there wasn't racism. There were your typical jerk kids, but they didn't take your rice‑crispy‑square and juice because you weren't the same color. Thinking back to being young, there wasn't much that could ruin your day, besides Brussels sprouts.

In high school the days got longer. In high school, the days seemed less sunny. There was one day, in grade eight, that I will remember for a long time. I was your average 13 year old, a little tall for my age, and a string bean. My friends and I had been walking to someone's house, when I decided it be best I just head home. I turned and ran back to the school, living in the opposite direction I had been meandering. There was this group of Middle Eastern guys, all much bigger than 1, crowded between a parked car and fence by a construction yard. I squeezed between them and the fence, avoiding the traffic on the road. As I scuttled past, I looked up at this one guy; he was gigantic. 6 foot 5 at least. So I keep walking, and made it past them, when the guy says to me, "hey, what are you staring at?" I quickly replied "nothing." And kept walking. He called back to me, "you little asshole, what were you staring at!" I turned back to him and said "nothing, I wasn't staring at anything," I was starting to get scared. This guy was huge, and really pissed off. I didn't even know why. "What are you staring at you little punk shit!" he bellows, walking towards me. I am nervous. I am terrified. I am thirteen. I haven't done anything but look at this enormous man and he is looking mighty pissed off at me. I stood still as he came closer. He raised back his leg, and booted the side of my knee as hard as he could. I fell down onto all fours, and on my way back up, he kicked me in the chest. Now I am confused. And in pain. I turn to run, seeing as the situation was not very welcoming. Before I get my head around in the other direction, another guy talking on a cell phone jump kicks me in the throat. I fell down, and clutched my throat. I couldn't breath. My eyes and nose began running and I looked up to see them scamper down the street.

In the weeks that followed, with doctors telling me if the kick was an inch left, it would have severed my jugular and windpipe, I was really wondering why. Why had this guy done what he did, to a kid he didn't even know. He threw his life away; got caught and charged for assault. And it dawned on me, there was no reason. He didn't like me because I was a white kid, with a smile on my face. He didn't like the way I had looked at him. And as I think back to that, and seeing how racism and prejudice is, evidently in schools, I really find it hard to comprehend. If I don't like you, it's not going to be cause of what you look like, where you're from, what you like to do, its going to be because your probably an ass. It's the most imprudent thing I've ever seen, and really, it makes you look like a tool. Now, as I look back at my childhood, and the events that occurred, I've found that prejudice is like Brussels sprouts, it sucks.

To hold hands with diversity is something I think we should strive for as a human race. We can only achieve this if we are aware and respect diversity among all people. This was not a common topic I pondered about, for I have been accustomed to it. I live in this wonderful city of Richmond where we are defined as a city by our diversity. I took the acceptance of multiculturalism for granted and did not realize that some people are not as fortunate as I am to reside in a city and country where diversity is allowed. I think to understand diversity one can look back on their experiences, consider the effect on you and find a way to respect diversity.

The most effective way to learn about subjects revolving around culture or race is through personal experiences. One of my first encounters with diversity is a conflict of racism that I witnessed. Firstly, certain members of my family are racist towards some cultures and ethnicities. Racist remarks seem to slip out of their mouths and not until recently did I recognize that they were racist, for when I was younger I had no understanding of what racism was. I just realize the utter hypocrisy involved, for perhaps other people are racist towards them and yet they are racist to others. Secondly, just by observing diversity, I formulated my own understanding. Over a celebration dinner that all eight of my closest friends and I went out for I observed diversity in it’s fullest. I looked at each of us along with our variation in race and interests between us and came to my own conclusion that diversity is just that, difference in those things. I live in a city where diversity can be observed amongst everything. Each part of Richmond exemplifies differences in race or beliefs that I cannot describe one street being the same as another. My eye’s have been opened to conflicts unnecessary due to diversity and I think if every city were this diverse; our world would be free of racism and prejudices due to being “different”.

The impact from my experiences, have played a role in leading to how I now value diversity. After observing conflicts regarding this topic and not doing anything about it or getting involved has made me want to expose the ignorance of it all. I really believe that all human beings are equal and the fact that I did not stand up for that in the past, made me feel guilty and I have now changed my ways. Another aspect of my experiences is awareness. Until recently I had never looked at my surroundings and truly realized the multiculturalism. Day after day, I see it but when I actually witness conflicts surrounding diversity the idiom “seeing is believing” took a new form. Just from really observing it, the value of uniqueness and the beauty of differences became evident to me. Acceptance is my main form of how I respect diversity. Just to accept another person’s different opinion is a form of respect. Effects of these experiences have added to my continuously growing respect for diversity.

I respect diversity. To start, just realizing it is a part of life is a step I have taken. I cherish the moments we share among people when it revolves around something that we all share. By reminding myself we all have one thing in common our human nature, I hope in the future all human kind can connect again. The need for courage, survival, conflict and love is something all human beings relate to and I feel that the differences of beliefs and race should not matter for all human life is equal. I respect diversity because I am a part of diversity. I may have different opinions or be of a different race from you, but that does not make one of us superior. I give respect for diversity in the hope that it will be shared among all human beings. I believe that there is already enough conformity amongst our society, so diversity appreciation is needed. Differences will arise among all people for eternity but once it dawns upon us that it is an everlasting issue; we will want to compromise and find common ground, which is most definitely better than discrimination.

To embrace diversity, we should look at what we have in common rather than our differences. We all belong to one race, the human race. Why can’t that tie us together instead of it pulling us apart? Although I have always respected the differences among all human beings; my only hope is that others will follow by example.

“The real challenge facing the world is not geographic distance- but cultural distance.” -Ray Bakke

Canadaand the Dominican Republic are two diverse countries each with their own unique way of life. Internally, culture is what distinguishes one nation from another. The way in which one lives their life, essentially, is by what their country can offer to them. Canada, a much more advanced country than the Dominican Republic offers endless opportunities to succeed in life, whereas in the Dominican Republic, earning a living can be a daily struggle. Differences in culture; climate; and differences in economic well-being all contribute towards each country’s way of life.

When I visited my extended family in the Dominican Republic just two years ago, I immediately came to the realization that their culture was very different from that of Canadians. The most irritating behaviour to me, was their nonchalant way of continually making plans to go somewhere at a certain time of the day, and then not being prepared to leave when that time came. I, being born and raised in a society where punctuality and organization is expected, found myself constantly frustrated that I was the only one that seemed to be ready at the decided time of departure. By the time we left, which would usually be around four hours later, I would have already been bickering for literally half of the day, causing me to completely lost interest in going anywhere, other than back to Canada. After some time, I eventually realized that this easy going, “if not today, than tomorrow” attitude is simply a part of the culture, and is nothing to get upset about. Dominicans are simply more laid back people and don’t stress about insignificant things. They would rather spend time bonding with the family without worrying about the time of day and where they are headed to next.

In Canada, generally speaking, priorities consist of work and school. In the Dominican Republic, entertainment and family time overrules that of work and school. Although this sounds unrealistic in our society, seeing as you have to earn a living, it is possible to live by these standards in the Dominican Republic. The main difference is that in the Dominican Republic, a good education does not mean that you will get a well paying job. The problem is that the country is poor due to lack of capital investment and there is a minimum of decent jobs available. It really wouldn’t matter to miss a day of work for some first class entertainment, because even if you were fired, you would just find work elsewhere for the same amount of pay. Dominicans, usually have lots of spare time on their hands and enjoy spending it with their family and friends. In some aspects, this is something that Canadians can learn from. Some of us are so caught up in work and school that we don’t look at the big picture and ask ourselves what truly is important. Surely work is important but isn’t family number one? I believe that if we took a step back and didn’t stress about minor flaws, many of us would improve our lives for the better.

One of the most obvious differences between Canada and the Dominican Republic is climate. I believe that the hot and humid temperature in the Caribbean slows the country down in the sense that it makes the body tired and sleepy. Dominicans enjoy spending time hanging out with the neighbours, socializing amongst themselves, which I believe is why they are such an open, outgoing community of people. Because of the extreme heat, Dominicans seem to avoid high-energy sports like soccer and football. Instead of sports such as this, Dominicans play baseball, their national sport. I presume that baseball is the sport of their choice because not much running is involved and they can play it all year long. Because of Canada’s diverse seasons, climate is ever changing, and we do not revolve our lives around a permanent state of temperature like the Dominicans must do.

I have heard many people say to me before that I should be grateful that I live in a country with so many opportunities to succeed in life. Unfortunately, this is not the issue in the Dominican Republic. Besides lack of job opportunities, the Dominican Republic faces problems such as shortage of power and water due to lack of capital. Most citizens would be worse off if it were not for relatives living in the United States sending money back home.

In conclusion, Canada and the Dominican Republic are two very different countries. Even though Canadians are much better off financially, Dominicans are just as happy, if not happier than Canadians. They forget about the luxuries they cannot afford, and instead, focus on their family and friends, the most important treasure of all.

We are all different ‑ in everything. There are aspects where it matters less, if we agree with them or not, and other aspects in which 'it is important to find a balance of opinion. Even with similar beliefs and morals, each individual understands them differently, with specific application to their own life. Widely, this *is affected by an individual's education. It introduces us to various alternative ways of life, and lets us logically think which ideas from a certain Culture could be explored further, and which ideas we automatically disagree with. Education, as well as an upbringing introducing different cultures, is crucial when it comes to accepting various nationalities of the world, and children raised in such an open environment are kinder when it comes to meeting new people, are more understanding.

Without certain ethical knowledge given to little children, it is common to see them come up with cruelty, because they don't understand what an impact it can have on someone; they aren't used to feeling pity. This. of course, will not necessarily make them grow into horrible individuals, but better to avoid it anyway. Sometimes they copy it from their parents in whom they have such trust. Luckily I never had to come face to face with such a problem seriously, especially on the receiving end of the insults ‑ but I can guess that the young victims have the most trouble recovering from such traumas, and are hurt by them deepest, because it's so difficult to understand what have they done to deserve this kind of treatment.

I remember, we were in grade one in the Ukraine, and for only a couple of weeks before New Years a new boy came to our class. He was Armenian, so didn't speak Russian like we could, it was a rarity to have new students all the way from another country come to our school, so upon coming lie at once became an object of humor. I don't think we bullied him, only made fun of his pronunciation, and he laughed with us, reinforcing my thought that he wasn't worried about our remarks. Soon after the New Year he stopped coming to our school however. Maybe his father just got a job offer back in Armenia, I am wishing that it wasn't something else...

1 have since forgotten, because of many pleasant memories here, that when I just immigrated to Canada I was hesitant to start school. The main reason, my parents reminded me, was that I heard you cannot 'hit back' in Canadian schools, and since I was expecting the boys and girls to make fun of me, I didn't know what to do if they started including force to back up their argument. In Russian schools, while it was not appropriate to start fights, everyone including parents and teachers taught us to stand up for ourselves and hit back if necessary. But of course I did not have a hard time following the 'no hitting' rule because elementary school here and its visitors were excellent! Granted, we learned more in Russian school, already in first grade we received marks, and homework in every subject, every day. There was a specific 'literature' class, on top of a 'Russian grammar' class. We were told to memorize poetry, and nowhere was it heard of having a ‘semester program' ‑ we took each course from September until May.

Quickly I realized what school in Canada was; to say it simply ‑ fun. I saw the grade twos sitting on the carpet in a circle, raising their hands however they wanted and not 'straight up and bent ninety degrees at the elbow', which is how we were told to. Much more relaxed was this atmosphere, as was my teacher. Here we were taught more about ethics, respect, and kindness to each other, strangely it was considered by the teacher as important if a student tried but answered the problem wrong as if they answered correctly. Everyone was friendly and patient with my lack of communication.

In Russian we have two ways of saying 'you'. (Like in French ‑ one as a formality, and one for friendliness) As in English there is no Such thing, it *is much easier to address the teacher, who on top of being on equal terms with me did not ridicule me in front of a group of students if I answered wrong, which, even though my teachers from the Ukraine were very decent, tended to happen. Another difference in these elementary schools was our level of maturity. Here a teacher would say 'Okay, you, you and you ‑ will tell me who was quiet and who was talking while we walk through the hallway.' But there it was considered the lowest thing to rat a fellow student out.

In Canada, every child grows up with at least a grandparent of a certain different culture, maybe this is why everyone was so unprejudiced against me. They were exposed to all diverse races, and at an age. when 'it is so easy to be influenced, learned to treat all people with respect alike. The children in my 'native country' are no worse than my elementary school classmates were, but because they did not have a chance of exposure to other nationalities, became easily amused by something as uncommon as an Armenian accent.

Where is the discipline better? ‑ Definitely in the country I left. Where does the student get more respect? In the country where I am growing up.

***

"Imagine all the people sharing all the world ‑ You may say I'm a dreamer, but I'm not the only one, I hope some day you'll join us; and the world will live as one. " ‑ John Lennon. Imagine.

Imagine if humans were all indistinguishable. We would look, smell, and dress the same way, having identical opinions, lifestyles, and beliefs. You would not be able to tell one from the other. Life would be very boring indeed. Fortunately, the world is composed of many people of different origins and ethnic backgrounds. No two people are alike, as each individual is unique in his or her own way. The human race has much in common, yet all are special and unique. Understanding and accepting this difference helps to broaden our outlook on life. However, we must keep in mind that there are many obstacles that impede this process. The only true way to eliminate these barriers is to experience the complications first-hand.

In today’s society, many things obstruct the equality and rights between people of different backgrounds. Bullying, sexism, and racism are three familiar forms of discrimination.

Bullying occurs most often during the adolescent period. The usual offenders are those who feel weak inside or threatened at home. Newer, younger, and weaker students are much more likely to be bullied. Sexism is discrimination based on gender. Even within the walls of education, its presence is felt. Refer back in time to when women were not permitted to attend school. Educated women were unheard of. Racism occurs when people have no respect for other cultures. They single out just because of one’s colour or culture. A good example of this was during the slavery of the African American nation. Blacks had to attend schools separate from others. They were shunned by society, set apart from other citizens, and devoid of rights.

No matter what we are doing to stop racism, it will continue to occur as long as there are people with no reverence for multiculturalism.

My personal encounter with racism occurred in elementary school.

In the sixth grade, I was living in North Vancouver and, as many know, not many Chinese people reside in the area. There was a new Chinese kid who arrived that summer who was overweight and not well-liked. One lunch, he ran across the courtyard, bruised and short of breath. He was chased by a group of white males. Poor in English, obese and a foreigner, those members constantly picked on him for amusement. I turned my head sideways, afraid to look at them. My friends stood up to confront those males and I became even more nervous. At the end of the lunch period, we called to the Chinese student, and I asked him in Chinese what happened. What actually occurred was that he was muttering in his native tongue, and they thought he was insulting them. At that particular moment, I was very worried, angry and, above all, shocked. It was awful that I had to witness this appalling event. As well, I was irritated that they were hounding a fellow countryman who meant them no harm. Overriding all this was the stunning experience of it all. Never have I ever experienced anything of that sort!

I wish that I could have stood up like my friends, who showed true courage. My cowardice embarrasses me every time I think of it. My personal experience helped opened my eyes to the reality of today’s society.

After that ordeal, it hit me that I was not an embracer of diversity myself. Thus, I strived for three things: to be more receiving of other cultures, to have a broader perspective on life, and to have self respect and a respect for others.

Accepting other cultures requires understanding for their values and traditions. We may not impose our own customs upon them. A broader perspective on life is necessary in order to live in harmony with each other. We should not take equality and respect for granted, as there are people in the world who have no use for those two words. As a result of my experience, I am now proud of my heritage and origin, and I admire those of other cultures and ethnic groups.

Without this observation, I would not have realized that I was not very accepting of other cultures, let alone my own. This gave me an understanding that everyone is different, yet deserve to be treated the same.

Every day, we encounter people of different origins and colour. Especially in Richmond, cultures of all types meet everywhere and must collaborate to achieve certain goals. At the same time this is taking place, forces are at work to spread hate and discrimination.

For myself, what really made me open my eyes to diversity was the fact that I was so cowardly and even afraid of my own culture. That moment made me realize that equality and respect was not to be taken lightly, as I was shown four years ago. A respect for diversity does not take much. Everyone can make a difference. Even the smallest action can change the world.