Before you read it, I'm warning you now that this will be different from other blog posts, namely in the fact that there aren't any happy jokes and boring rants about my daily life. I'll be talking about faith. Not religious faith - you're free to believe whatever you want, be in it the singe, omnipotent Christian God, the Greek Gods or even The Flying Spaghetti Monster. No, I'll be talking about faith in a family.
As a Vietnamese kid growing up in a 'Western' culture I grew up to experience two completely different worlds. In my family, the way things ran was clear: whatever my parents demanded, that's the way things went. I'm not alone in this, and in no way am I saying that I'm the worst off. I had a full, happy (mostly, anyway) childhood where I could run about and play with other children, only made to study a bit more than average. But as time passed, I found myself aching and yearning for the love and faith I saw in my friends' families. The kind of love that meant that even when you had no faith in yourself, they had plenty for you.
I had tried to ignore it. No point in wishing for something out of your reach, something that you can't change. There are children without parents, families, homes. But it still hurts.
Recently I got into Phillips Exeter Academy. I was overjoyed. It's a fantastic school and it opens the door to endless opportunities. I readily filled out all the placement tests, responded to the questionnaires, read each letter I received. I remember struggling with the Math test, but not thinking much of it. I had always been good at Math and even when I got my placement, while slightly disappointed, I decided to just do my best and see where that takes me.
My mum came in, asking if the school had responded with my placement. I had told her - I got into 31T. I was used to her ranting, her disappointment so I had just ignored it. But then she said that maybe I should stay here where I'd be in the top groups. She said that if I go there, I'll just be your average Joe, and get nowhere in life. That hurt. It hurt having read about how parents should have faith and believe in their own child, and then have mine do the exact opposite. It hurt that my parents seed doubt in me, instead of confidence. Before I could stop it, tears were running down my face, my lips shaking despite desperately trying to keep a straight face. My dad had walked in then, and said I shouldn't cry. That I should see how much smarter the other kids are and use it as motivation. It didn't help that I could still hear my mum going on how but better it would be if I just stayed here. Because I would inevitably fail at a school with higher standards. She saw me and said not to cry because I'm stupid. That if I chose to stay, my parents would readily accept me. But I don't want to! God dammit, I had been looking forward to leaving for so god damn long. This chance to escape and start over, to let myself really be who I am. And here my mum was telling me that I should stay?
I can't explain why I got so upset. Hormones? Built up anger? All the years of wishing for a different kind of family... Not a different family. Just one where the social dynamic was different really. One where I didn't feel like a disappointment, where my mum was proud of what I had achieved, not frustrated about what I won't. Not haven't. Won't.
That's not to say I won't go to Exeter and try my best. I will. Now, more than ever, I want to go there and kick butt (metaphorically of course). It's just there's always going to be that part of me that wishes my parents really believed I can kick butt as well.
As a Vietnamese kid growing up in a 'Western' culture I grew up to experience two completely different worlds. In my family, the way things ran was clear: whatever my parents demanded, that's the way things went. I'm not alone in this, and in no way am I saying that I'm the worst off. I had a full, happy (mostly, anyway) childhood where I could run about and play with other children, only made to study a bit more than average. But as time passed, I found myself aching and yearning for the love and faith I saw in my friends' families. The kind of love that meant that even when you had no faith in yourself, they had plenty for you.
I had tried to ignore it. No point in wishing for something out of your reach, something that you can't change. There are children without parents, families, homes. But it still hurts.
Recently I got into Phillips Exeter Academy. I was overjoyed. It's a fantastic school and it opens the door to endless opportunities. I readily filled out all the placement tests, responded to the questionnaires, read each letter I received. I remember struggling with the Math test, but not thinking much of it. I had always been good at Math and even when I got my placement, while slightly disappointed, I decided to just do my best and see where that takes me.
My mum came in, asking if the school had responded with my placement. I had told her - I got into 31T. I was used to her ranting, her disappointment so I had just ignored it. But then she said that maybe I should stay here where I'd be in the top groups. She said that if I go there, I'll just be your average Joe, and get nowhere in life. That hurt. It hurt having read about how parents should have faith and believe in their own child, and then have mine do the exact opposite. It hurt that my parents seed doubt in me, instead of confidence. Before I could stop it, tears were running down my face, my lips shaking despite desperately trying to keep a straight face. My dad had walked in then, and said I shouldn't cry. That I should see how much smarter the other kids are and use it as motivation. It didn't help that I could still hear my mum going on how but better it would be if I just stayed here. Because I would inevitably fail at a school with higher standards. She saw me and said not to cry because I'm stupid. That if I chose to stay, my parents would readily accept me. But I don't want to! God dammit, I had been looking forward to leaving for so god damn long. This chance to escape and start over, to let myself really be who I am. And here my mum was telling me that I should stay?
I can't explain why I got so upset. Hormones? Built up anger? All the years of wishing for a different kind of family... Not a different family. Just one where the social dynamic was different really. One where I didn't feel like a disappointment, where my mum was proud of what I had achieved, not frustrated about what I won't. Not haven't. Won't.
That's not to say I won't go to Exeter and try my best. I will. Now, more than ever, I want to go there and kick butt (metaphorically of course). It's just there's always going to be that part of me that wishes my parents really believed I can kick butt as well.
