RecentlyI went on a vacation to Canada with my mom and my younger sister. When wearrived, exhausted from the six-hour plane ride, we had to wait 45 minutes to gothrough customs. When it was our turn, my mom went to the counter followed by meand my sister. The officer checked our passports and asked my mom the usualquestions - Why are you coming to Canada? Are you looking forward to the trip?Are you bringing imported goods into the country?

Then I felt the customsofficer was a little personal. Actually, I found him outright rude. He askedwhere our father was. My sister and I didn't know what to answer. I wasn't surewhat my mom wanted us to say. My sister, after 30 seconds, said, "My fatheris up in heaven." The officer looked at us as if he didn't believe us, butsaid, "All right." He turned to my mother and asked when and how herhusband died, and if she had legal custody of us. My mom answered the questions,but I could tell she was extremely annoyed. The man then asked if she had proofof custody. She said no. The officer said we would be denied entrance to thecountry.

You see, my sister and I were both just a month old when we wereadopted. My mother has never married. I don't like to talk about my adoptionbecause I feel it's nobody's business. My mom may not be my birth mother, but sheis still my mother. When this extremely rude man kept prying answers out of us, Ifelt like I didn't belong. It wasn't right to do this. Even if he did have theright, why would he ask when someone's husband died?

When we were deniedaccess to Canada, I found out what it feels like to be denied things because ofsomething I can't help. I never paid much attention to the restrictions ofminorities, but now I know how it feels, and will be extra careful when I saysomething or ask questions.

I have learned a lesson I have already put touse.






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