For my essay I choose question #1. I wish to tell you a small bit about my national culture and childhood and about the role models of my life. They may not be everyone's idea of examples to live by, but my mother and father have been rocks of security and great love to me and my 11 brothers and sisters. They are always caring and faithful to each other. I love and appreciate each family member for making me what I am today. I will now tell you a fond memory of one Passover feast some years ago when I was about 10. Days and weeks before the great feast the family had all been scouring the house for the annual Spring Cleaning in preparation for Passover. My job was to rid the house of all hametz (crumbs of leavened bread and wheat products, any thing that would have yeast) as is the custom for all Jewish households during this time of the year. It is a solemn time, but quite joyful as we symbolically rid ourselves of dirt and leaven (leaven being a symbol of sin) in preparation to receive the Word of G-d. I never did figure out why it was ok to have sin in the house the rest of the 357days of the year, but so what, Passover brought fun and family close together. Mother, being Korean always served a multicultural feast at this time. She was careful that all was kosher and served in traditional Passover style but the foods were anything but traditionally Jewish. Mother served Kosher Kimchee in place of bitter herbs, a mix of mangos and lichees in place of the traditional haroset, and Korean style barbequed beef in place of the roasted lamb. The morning before the great feast us kids were being out of control and whining stuff like "she's touching me! ", "Mother, he's looking at me!" and " Shut up retard !" so rather than put up with my screeching I was sent to the pantry for one last Hametz Hunt. Pretending to be diligent I quietly moved some cans of squid out of the way and found a treasure trove of Hametz! A case of my father's home brewed beer, very powerful Imperial Pale Ale he kept for himself and honored guests. This could not be in the house for Passover as beer is made with yeast and wheat, and I could not bear to waste this opportunity to drink Papa's forbidden hand-crafted brew. After all, it must be all gone by sundown or the house would not be Kosher! Bottle after bottle I consumed being quiet as a mouse except for an occasional furtive belch. I heard visiting relatives in the kitchen knowing soon the party would begin. One more hour till sundown... At last my work was done. The pantry was clean of all hametz and I was feeling euphoric that I had unselfishly done my duty to G-d and my family Not wanting to brag about my job well done and keep my work secret I stuffed a spoonful of hot spicy kimchee in my mouth on the way to the dining room to cover the smell of the homebrew on my breath. Most of the family were seated and waiting for the rest of the children and Papa to come downstairs to our Passover supper. The table was beautifully set with candles and flowers and sumptuous dishes, surrounding the traditional Seder Plate. It all moving and swirling in the most beautiful way. "Yong, please run upstairs and tell your father in 10 minutes it is time for Passover Feast" said mother in her best Company Voice. I rolled out of my chair and found the staircase with some difficulty but made it up to the den to find my father. Papa had some trouble getting up and then I saw that he himself had been cleaning up many bottles of hametz himself. He had just tossed the last empty out the window. Down we both came together carefully holding onto the rails and found our seats. Grandfather Rubenfeld started the Passover toast and blessing. With my head bowed, slightly swaying I peeked at my mother who was also looking at me from under furrowed brows. "Oy Vey" she mouthed silently as Grandfather gave thanks for our freedom from bondage. "Chag Sameach!" (Happy Holiday) he bellowed. And it was.