When travel
guides and movies depict Los Angeles, they often show beaches, mountains, and grand shopping malls—a thriving city where people are made to spend their lives outdoors. Having spent most of my childhood in L.A., I, however, did not. My parents worked nearly every day when we lived in L.A., leaving my older sister and me at home with our aunt, uncle, and cousins, most of whom were busy too. I was pretty much the shy girl in school who only went out whenever her protective Filipino parents let her. In elementary school, I secretly envied my classmates who already knew how to skate, swim, bike, or do basically any outdoor activity, thanks to L.A.’s natural landscape.
Sometimes I didn’t want anyone to know that I couldn’t do or was weak at such activities. When my best friend and her family took me to Six Flags Hurricane Harbor when I was 11 for instance, her uncle asked me if I knew how to swim, and I just nodded even though I didn’t know how. Then the rushing water in the “Wave Pool” led me to panic and paddle for my life. Thankfully, I lived. But I shouldn’t have lied.
As a kid, it frustrated me on how I wasn’t able to do much in L.A., or see all of it for the matter. I didn’t have the chance of—shame on me—going to a game at Dodger’s Stadium or see the gorgeous Christmas lights at The Grove during holiday seasons. My summer vacations consisted of watching PBS Kids shows on a daily basis instead of spending time at the beach, which was less than half an hour away from my house; at the times when I went to the beach, they were either a class field trip or a party.
My parents weren’t well-off, and sometimes endured financial struggles, so my sister and I had to wait until they had enough money for us to go out and about. A family trip to Universal Studios and a hike at Griffith Observatory only happened once, though I had wished we went there regularly like others. When I went to those L.A. hot spots, I tried my best to savor each moment and have fun, for I knew that my family and I wouldn’t have either the time or money to go again any time soon.
I felt left out from other kids for living a sheltered life, and often daydreamed of going around the city by myself since there was more for me to see and do. But as I look back at my childhood in L.A., I not only remember and cherish the rare, yet fun trips to theme parks and museums, but also the times when I learned to be independent in some way, or how I made myself learn a new thing when no one else had the time or patience to teach me. L.A. is where I, at 10, have taught myself how to ride a bike without training wheels and tie my own shoes even though it took me a long time. But more importantly, L.A. is where I realized that I want to be a writer, thanks to my seventh grade English teacher, Ms. Barnes.
When I moved to Long Beach after seventh grade, I begged my parents for me to continue middle and high school there, because leaving friends behind was one of the most horrible things a pre-teen could do. I was also used to the hustle and bustle of L.A., and didn’t want to be far away. After all, I eventually attended Venice High School, where, no lie, Britney Spears’ “Baby One More Time” music video and parts of “Grease” were shot. How could I not have had the chance of climbing the same set of bleachers the once-cute John Travolta sang and danced on?
Chinatown is one of the many ethnic enclaves in Los Angeles.
Whenever I visit L.A. today, I overlook the malls, beaches, and palm trees; all I can think about is my childhood. I still regret not having gone to all the hot spots in L.A., but I believe that someday I will. Someday, I will live there again and experience it all. My favorite fact about L.A. is how ethnically and socially diverse it is. Most of my friends, whom I miss dearly, have a different social background from me, which is pretty cool. To me, the city of angels is not just a place of fun and fame; it is a place where you’re free to be different from everyone else, and shouldn’t be deprived of that trait. It’s where you’re encouraged to push yourself to follow your dreams no matter what adversities you face. Long Beach has totally grown on me over the past eight years, but I’ll always be a L.A. girl at heart.
