Pachinko by Min Jin Lee

Another review! (I’ve been doing quite some reading this break:)) I read Pachinko by Min Jin Lee this past week. This book has been very highly acclaimed in bookstores and on Amazon. I’m going to admit: I’ve been wanting to read this book since the summer but never found the time to. My list of books to read was shorter this break, so I found some time to read this 500-pager. Min Jin Lee has beautiful and clear prose, but I was disappointed by the plot of the story. Thousands of people have reviewed this book on Amazon and it was a National Book Award Finalist. I was disappointed by the book because I felt it was difficult to fully dive into the story. While I was reading this book, I couldn’t exactly figure out why I didn’t enjoy this book. I think I’ve formulated a reason, which I will share after I do a little summary.

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Pachinko is the tale of four generations of Koreans living in Japan during World War 2. There are three parts to the book, each about a different generation. What’s beautiful about this book is how Min Jin Lee ties the stories and events in each generation to the next. I enjoyed seeing how the decisions made in one generation affected the generation after, and how the sacrifices the earlier generations made allowed for easier and brighter lives for the following. It made me think about my family in a way and the importance of every decision made in the past.

The story surrounds the lives of these four generations of Koreans, focusing on their daily lifestyles, habits, whom they married, their mental states and what they thought about. Min Jin Lee uses the third person to tell her story, which provides excellent insight into the minds of all the characters. Sunja is the main character. She is a first generation Korean living in Japan and the story surrounds Sunja and her children. Lee writes about the struggles of Sunja’s marriage. Moreso, of a mistake Sunja made during her teenage years and how this one mistake goes to haunt the precedent two generations of her family. 

Sunja becomes pregnant in Korea at the age of 16 with the son of a rich man who was already married to a woman in Japan. When Sunja finds out that her child’s father is already married, she decides it violates her values to marry him; she does not want to be anyone’s second wife. Fortunately, another man marries her and together they have another son. Sunja takes care of her two sons while cooking for her husband and living with her brother in law and his wife. 

Sunja soon discovers that her first son’s father is a yakuza, or the equivalent of the mafia. Unfortunately, this is the fact that will haunt Sunja’s family in future generations and even in her mother’s generation. The story surrounds the lives of these Koreans living in Japan after this discovery. 

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I enjoyed reading about Sunja throughout the story. However, I found it difficult to follow when the story shifted to talk about Sunja’s grandchildren and their lives. While it is neat to see how the quality of life for this one family has evolved through the generations, I found it difficult to keep up with. I felt the story was rushed towards the end of the novel in the remaining 100-ish pages. 

For me, the main reason why I did not enjoy this book is that it lacks a clear plot and purpose. There was no real “plot”, and in reality, the book simply followed the lives of this one family. While one could argue that in itself is a plot, I found it mildly repetitive: a baby is born, they grow up, they work and study, they marry, and then they have children. This same plot seemed to repeat itself over and over in the story just in different time periods. The story also lacked build up and excitement. The plot did not draw me in to read this book and I found the book quite easy to put down. Nevertheless, this story certainly does appeal to many people…afterall it is highly acclaimed and a popular bestseller. I would agree that Pachinko will interest certain types of people, perhaps those who are interested in history and how that affected a typical Korean family living in Japan, or perhaps someone who is interested in capturing the essence of time and how time changes the quality of life and circumstances for one family. However, I would not recommend it to people who enjoy suspense, quick buildups, and action.

Where the Crawdads Sing by Delia Owens

It’s definitely a new favorite of mine. Most definitely. Where the Crawdad’s Sing sits on my shelf of favorite books along with The Nightingale by Kristen Hannah. In a suspenseful novel, Delia Owens weaves together a powerful story about love, abandonment, the coming-of-age, and murder. It was a book that I couldn’t put down, and I found myself crying at the end of the story. 

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Kya has lived in the marsh her entire life, with her three siblings, mother, and abusive father. She has grown up playing in the swamps, collecting bird feathers and a variety of other wildlife. One day, when her abusive and drunk father’s temper spins out of control, her two eldest siblings leave the shack in the marsh in search of a better life. Not long after, Kya’s mother leaves the shack as well, leaving Kya and her older brother, Jodie, alone in the shack with an alcoholic father. Kya and Jodie patiently wait for their mother to return. Jodie and Kya wait for months, but they never see their mother walking down the path towards their shack. Jodie leaves the shack later, but he doesn’t bring Kya along with him because she is merely six years old at the time. This is the first moment in which Kya experiences one of the greatest losses of her time; her family abandoning her becomes the catalyst for her growing independence and reliance upon herself.  

Kya and her father get along for a decade. She grows up under the same roof as him, but she rarely sees him. Sometimes her father will go out for days on end without returning. Kya cooks for her erratic father, learns to grocery shop, while balancing her time out in the marsh. During this time, Kya attends school for exactly one day after social workers dragged her into the classroom. Unlike the other students in the classroom, Kya has never been in school before. When she misspells the word dog, as god and is made a joke of in the class, Kya vows never to set foot in a classroom again. At the age of 15, she has not the slightest inkling of how to read and she can only do simple arithmetic that gets her through the grocery store on a budget. During this time, Kya never loses her love for exploring the marsh and collecting things she finds. 

One day, Kya is hiding in the woods when she spots a boy. For weeks they do not meet each other in person, but they play what Kya calls “The Feather Game”. On a tree stump, they each leave things for the other person to collect in secret. Finally one day, the boy catches Kya collecting the feathers and goods he has left for her on the tree stump and they meet. The boy’s name is Tate, and he’s 18 years old. Tate is entranced by Kya’s wild beauty, and when he learns of her inability to read, he makes it his mission to teach her. They bond through these reading lessons and their mutual enjoyment for exploring the marsh and collecting things from nature. Tate and Kya fall heads first into love, and when Tate has to leave for college, he promises to return. But he never does. During the same time, Kya’s father leaves her, and within a couple of months, Kya finds herself having been abandoned again by the people she loves. It is after being left by Tate that Kya discovers the only person she can rely on is herself. Through this independence and her aloofness from town, people begin to dote Kya, “The Marsh Girl”. 

About five years after Tate leaves her, Kya falls in love with another man. The story becomes complicated here when at the same time, Tate comes back for Kya. Then one day, the second man Kya falls in love with is found dead and the town begins to investigate.

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This story touched me in so many ways. What I admire most about the protagonist, Kya, is her independence. Kya possessed what few could ever do. She took what little she’d been given, educated herself about the swamp.  Through these heart-wrenching instances where she was abandoned, I felt torn and nuanced (if that’s an appropriate adjective!). Kya had learned to rely on herself, but this also diminished her abilities to self-advocate which retaliated against her favor. Kya was afraid to speak up for herself since she’d been taught from a young age that she was the only person she could ever rely on. Her parents had left her, as had her siblings, and even her lover had broken his promise to return. Questions arose for me. How hard is it to earn trust? How many times can others break their promises before an individual retracts from trusting others? Perhaps Kya is one who had been abandoned one too many times which affected her ability to seek aid and support from others. I also love how this book uses nature and wildlife to explain expectations for humans, as it reminds readers of how closely connected we are to the animals who may live outside our doors. Owens crafts a story in which humans and nature become one thing.

Delia Owens has fantastic writing. I mean this in the sense that not only was her plot well thought out, but her prose in itself is like poetry. Her alliteration and description vividly brought to life the world in which Kya lives, particularly the nature scenes. Where the Crawdads Sing is not a difficult book to follow, though its chapters do flip between past and present. A must read!

When Life Gives You Lululemons by Lauren Weisberger

It’s the book that caught my eye at the beginning of the school year but never found the chance to pull off the shelves to read. The book’s cover is a bright shade of red with bold yellow font, but it also caught my eye because the brand of my running shorts had made it onto the cover of a New York Times Bestseller. Yes, here it is, my review on When Life Gives You Lululemons by Lauren Weisberger. 

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GREENWICH, CT. Karolina, a retired Polish supermodel who’s walked Victoria’s Secret seven times, is married to a US Senator (Graham). She is his second wife, and the only mother her step-son, Harry, has ever known. Graham is running for the presidency, but shortly before the election, Karolina is spontaneously arrested for driving under influence with five other children in the back of the car. She claims innocence, but the police refuse to give her a breathalyzer after finding two empty bottles of champagne in the back of the car. Not only is Karolina thrown into jail for the night, but her arrest makes the headlines and her husband’s run for presidency is affected. Karolina wants nothing more than to explain to her husband what actually happened the night of her arrest, but she finds her husband has left her and refused to let her see Harry. 

On the other coast of the States in Los Angeles, Emily Charlton is losing her clients one by one. A well-reputed image consultant, with impeccable style, a fastidious lifestyle, and a relentless concern for health and wellness, her style is apparently being doted “out of date”. Emily has directed many shows for Runway under Miranda Priestly (pretty much the Anna Wintour of When Life Gives You Lululemons), saved the images and public reputations of many superstars, and she is confident she can fix anybody’s broken image. Over 10 years of experience has confirmed this confidence. However, suddenly it seems that she is losing her biggest clients to a new image consultant in the media. For Emily, she’s looking for her next big break that will hopefully save her own image as an image consultant. 

Miriam is a retired Partner from a law firm in New York City. She moved to Greenwich recently and hopes to raise her kids better in the suburbs. Through her daily workouts at SoulCycle, morning jogs with other moms, and Books Clubs, she learns about life in Greenwich. Through talking with other women, Miriam begins to feel insecure about her own marriage. A critical character in the plot, when Miriam first hears about Karolina’s DUI, she calls her old friend and Miriam helps Karolina work through her emotions. Also a friend of Emily’s, Miriam unintentionally invites Emily to her home in Greenwich. Karolina meets Emily as a result, and the two form a friendship. Through Emily and Miriam’s support and friendship, Karolina discovers her true motive is not getting revenge on her Senator husband, but getting her son back. Emily and Miriam later help Karolina rebuild her public image in order to win back Harry.

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When Life Gives You Lululemons is adventurous, humorous, and a good source for blowing off some steam. It reminded me of Crazy Rich Asians, but with a more clear plot and added suspense. I must admit I was a little bit disappointed with Weisberger’s writing style. Her writing was fairly easy to follow but lacked formal prose and literally depth. What I did really enjoy about this novel was experiencing the lives these women lead after growing up. It almost provided insight into adult life and the feeling of growing up, but maybe that’s just an opinion coming from a teenager. I would deem this an excellent beach book! 

Turbulence on a tightrope

At school, all students take a Foundations course called Empathy, Balance, and Inclusion (EBI).  For many students, it’s the course that they roll their eyes at and say EBI? Not again… I’m quite surprised people dislike this course. While EBI is only three years old and still undergoing course development and refinement, I would say it’s one of my favorite 45 minutes of the week. Earlier this week, our class talked about WOOP, a strategy to tackle our goals in life, which I’ve been thinking through lately.

WOOP stands for wish, outcome, obstacle, and plan. It’s a strategy for achieving goals. What I like most about WOOP is that it not only talks about what we may have as goals, but it tells us to expect setbacks and encourages us to prepare ourselves mentally for overcoming them. Perhaps one of the biggest reasons why I set goals for myself and then fail to achieve them is because I’m not mentally prepared for a setback. I’ll often set goal x, and then go off track a little bit and struggle to restabilize myself towards that goal. For example, maybe my goal is to practice piano every day over break. Maybe I discover that I will be traveling for a little while. Coming back, it’s difficult to return to that goal-oriented mindset. Maybe my goal is to learn a section in my math book every day, but I slip one day, and then I can no longer get back into that streak. 

I’ve noticed a pattern: I have a tendency to set high goals and standards and work towards them consistently for a solid length of time. Perhaps this is what has earned me the description of “goal-oriented”. While I may be working towards a goal consistently, the entire time, it’s as if I’m walking on a tightrope. Any sort of turbulence could shake me off at any time. I need to get myself out of this tendency because I’ve realized that I’m entering this phase in my life that’s pretty critical. I’m nearing the middle of my high school career, and sooner than I can believe it, I’ll be heading right into the college application process. This is the moment in my life where consistency is critical. I cannot allow one setback, one small turbulence, or one small disturbance to utterly destroy the markers I’ve set for myself. I would like to stay on that tightrope. 

I suspect these next two years will be like a marathon, slow, steady, but consistent. It’s not a one month and done scenario. It’s a gradual build-up. It’ll be weeks filled with work, stress, and struggle, but on a more positive note, it will also be a time where I learn a lot about myself. I suspect I will learn about myself as a thinker, as a student, and as a citizen. Honestly, I’m kind of excited for that.

How my ji xing helps and hurts me

I’ve recently come to realize my inclination in getting things done fast. I have what my mom calls a ji xing in Mandarin. It’s not a personality disorder or anything serious. I would say it’s just a personality type. It’s where I feel the need and the rush to finish everything. It’s not that I have other things I want to do after. Though this is not a dictionary definition, I would describe a someone who has a ji xing as someone who has an addiction to the gratifying feeling of being done.

I’ve stopped to think about my ji xing and I’ve discovered the magnitude of this “addiction” of mine, through observing my close friend. I’ve written about her before, and while she may be slightly disorganized and have a tendency to be a little late to everything, I believe she’s the true epitome of someone who takes her time with everything. My friend does not like to struggle with physics homework, however, she will spend hours on end reviewing for tests and quizzes, patiently staying awake late at night until she believes she understands every concept clearly. Only then will she allow herself to go to bed. She also takes her time getting ready in the morning (not accounting for the fact that she’s around 3 minutes late to first period every day!). When I say she takes her time, I mean she also takes one hour to eat dinner. 

My friend and I are polar opposites in this sense. When she walks around, I sense an aura of patience. Her steps glide gracefully, and her arms moved in a relaxed manner. I usually wait for my friend in the morning (if she doesn’t make me late to class of course!) and even when we have merely four minutes to get to class, she’ll still be pacing around in her room looking for things slowly, as if she had all the time in the world. Watching her try to find her stuff, the only thought going through my head is, “GO!!!  Faster! Why is this taking so long??? Why does she not appear the slightest bit rushed?” On the other, I can sense my exigency and my strong sense of time through the way I walk. I often have my hands in my pockets to minimize air resistance, and I’ll take longer strides like the business people in New York take when they’re walking through the city. I feel an evident lack of patience in many things I do, and I find things are usually exciting to do in the beginning but after spending some time working on it, all I want to do it to finish it. Again, this is both good and bad. Ironically, it keeps me on schedule and prevents me from burning my brains out on small details, but it also deters my ability to delve deep into whatever I’m trying to accomplish. 

I aspire to instill patience into my life and personality. I always seem to be rushing through everything I do, which results in lower quality results. I rush through my homework, and on exceptionally crammed nights, I find myself focusing on finishing over learning. I find myself focusing on drawing that check mark of completion rather than reflecting on what I actually learned.  I’m seeing gaps in my lifestyle as well. Instead of sitting down to spend time with friends at dinner, I’m too rushed to go off and work on that homework. It’s as if every time I’m trying to do one thing, I’m always simultaneously thinking about the next thing I have to do later, distracting me from what I have to do in a particular moment. 

Of course, I must recenter myself to the idea of balance again. I frequently write about having balance and avoiding the extremes. This idea is no exception. I would like to take a reasonable amount of time for everything I do, but not take excessive time doing everything. Maybe I don’t need to spend an hour eating dinner every night or take one hour long showers as my friend does. On the other hand, when I try to produce quality work, I recognize the demand and the necessity to sit down and really spend more quality time. I’ve already begun to implement this idea in subtle ways. I’m spending more time reading through my physics textbook before I dive into the homework problems, and I’m spending more time previewing topics before we learn them in class. I’m experiencing positive benefits, as classes are easier to understand, I complete the homework more efficiently, and overall, I gain more from my learning experience. Another small way I’ve began to implement patience into my life is through making and drinking hot chocolate. Instead of making a cup of hot chocolate in the dorm and drinking it in a matter of five minutes so that I can clean the mug as soon as possible, I take my time sipping the drink to genuinely enjoy the chocolaty taste of winter. 

I know we’re still a few weeks from New Years, but I’ve started mentally gathering things I would like to work on for 2019. This is one idea I’d like to add to my bucket list: to be more patient and spend quality time with everything that’s in front of me instead of worrying about the next thing on my plate.

16

My birthday posts consisted of rants about increased responsibilities with age in the past. I wrote consistently about the difference in responsibilities even though having an extra year on my age didn’t make me feel any different physically. 

This year, I’ve come to a new understanding of age and my birthday (which will probably evolve further when I age). I believe my birthday is a time for reflection, a time where I can look back at my progress and my struggles from a safe distance, knowing that this year is past and that new things are to come.  When I say “safe distance”, I’m suggesting that I can reflect on my life, knowing that it has already moved on in a way. This sort of reflection empowers me to take what went well, and recognize what didn’t go so well, and apply it to this new year of my life. So here I go…

15. A year where I realized what true friendship meant through observing the social dynamic of my schools dining hall. It was a year where I did a lot of traveling, which I am forever grateful for. It was the year I became interested in Korean drama and KPop. It was the year where I realized what genuine gratitude truly meant through the idea of reciprocation. It was the year that I became interested in debate and refined my voice in public speaking. 

At 15, I was still navigating my way through my first year at PA. I refined my study habits, even though they’re still evolving with each coming term. I managed to start a club at 15, and now my club is trying to start a service on campus. At 15, I enjoyed playing tennis the most and I picked up XC again at school. My favorite book from this year was Educated by Tara Westover. I’m also proud of how frequently I met up with my old friends. Being at boarding school put some distance between myself and my friends back home, but I intentionally put effort into keeping in touch. 15 was also the year where I discovered how true happiness manifests. 

While I discovered how unintentional true happiness is, 15 also consisted of a neverending rollercoaster of emotions, particularly in its second half. I felt pretty down at times for prolonged periods of days. Upon retrospection, my math teacher seems to have identified my biggest problem, the problem that’s dragging me down. He notices that I feel as if I hold the weight of the whole world on my shoulders with my worries about college, about finding a job, about doing well in school etc. As a result, sometimes I let one low grade on a test reflect me as a whole when in reality, it’s merely a marker of my performance on one particular test. I have a tendency to blow up the true worth of each grade and I’ve let setbacks get in the way of my happiness.  

I hope to improve upon this area during 16. I hope to able to see the value of a test and learning, without allowing a low grade on one test reflect my entire worth. I will strive to put things more into perspective. As cliche of a phrase as this sounds, I need to realize that screwing up on one assessment in a class won’t utterly determine my life. 15 was a rollercoaster, but it was also a year of realization. I’ve got a new goal for 16 and one year from now, I’m going to take a look at how I’ve done. 

A post of thanks

I spent my Thanksgiving on a sailboat down in Florida. I was down in Key West for most of this past week, so I was unable to blog, but as I say every year, gratitude should be given constantly. So, here I go, a few days late, a little bit tired from the late night flight, but still grateful. 

I’m eternally grateful for my parents. They drive up to school each weekend, not just to see me, but to help me with subjects I’m struggling with. I’m grateful for them staying up until I go to bed, explaining physics to me. For allowing me to vent my anger out, even when they have nothing to do with whatever’s upsetting me. For putting my happiness and my wants above their needs. For trying to put my failures and setbacks into perspectives, and for pushing me to be better every single day. Thank you thank you thank you.

I’m grateful for my best friend at school. I haven’t had a “best friend” in a while, but I can confidently say that my best friend at school brings me the greatest laughs each day. We have a compatible companionship (yes we even brush our teeth together) and she helps me in school work. I suppose our personalities and organization are polar opposites and I don’t know how we became friends but what I’ve found is that my best friend fills in the gaps where I’m lacking. Whatever it is about us two, I wouldn’t change a thing. 

I’m grateful for my math teacher for being a teacher beyond math. He’s a writer, he would make a great comedian, and he gives his students individually tailored advice. 

I’m grateful for my teachers, for all the people I’ve toured at school who’ve cheered up my Thursdays, and for all the Starbucks I’ve had. 

“Give thanks not just on Thanksgiving day but every day of your life. Appreciate and never take for granted all that you have” -Caroline Pulsifer

That's why I didn't title this post "Thanksgiving".  This post is really just "A Post of Thanks" and I should write more of these posts throughout the year.

Gene editing

I have recently gotten into listening to WSJ’s Future of Everything podcast. WSJ has many different podcasts including Tech News Briefing, Secrets of Wealthy Women, and What’s News. The Future of Everything focuses on technological innovations, and really, imagining what our future may look like. 

I have this habit, not necessarily a bad one, of listening to podcast after podcast on the elliptical. This week, I found one particular one I’d like to highlight called Customized Kids: Are designer babies on the way? Its title pretty much encapsulates the essence of this episode about genetic engineering. 

Genetic engineering was originally designed as a bulwark against congenital diseases such as diabetes and cystic fibrosis. What’s happened is that scientists discovered ways to manipulate genes that can also control physical appearances such as eye color and gender. Many questions of ethics arise from genetic engineering. 

Dr. Jeffrey Steinberg, the founder of Fertility Institutes explains that when would-be parents come into his office and request for a baby that has a particular eye color or a particular hair color, he will scan both parents to find possible combinations of genes that would lead them to not have a baby with those traits. If the desired trait the would-be parents would like to have is possible to have, then hormones are given to a woman that causes her to release around 10-14 eggs. These are fertilized and then scientists will go through and pick the embryo that possesses the desired trait. 

After listening to this podcast, and more importantly, to both sides of the issue, I’m still on the fence. There was a man with type 1 diabetes who was interviewed for the episode. He was against the idea of genetic engineering, saying that if his parents had the technology 20 years ago to pick the fittest and healthiest embryo, he would not exist today. It troubles me to think of the truth in his statement. The implications of genetic engineering would give way and allow for a “perfect” society and in a way, us humans would be defying the laws of mother nature. And then there are questions of privilege. Genetic engineering, whether to prevent diseases or for cosmetic purposes, is expensive and would lend itself to privilege. Is it ethical that some people have access to these benefits while others don’t?

Conversely, what’s interesting is that China has been trying to find genes that cause intelligence. For several years now, they have been analyzing hundreds of people with high IQ’s, in attempts to find common traits. Hypothetically, China would be able to change the base or average intelligence of its entire population, and in theory, regardless of whether someone was an executive or homeless, these people would be more intelligent than people from other countries. There are clear benefits to gene editing, but I believe what China is trying to do is raise the base level of intelligence. 

I believe gene editing is effective when it is applied to an entire population. For example, when an entire population’s intelligence is raised, or when an entire population is exempt from sickle-cell anemia or another congenital disease. In a way, we would still be defying mother nature. But then there’s the other side of the case with gene editing for cosmetic traits. Is it ethical to edit a baby’s features, or as the podcast calls it, “customize” them? I have a feeling this would perpetuate racial stereotypes and bias. While there are clear benefits when genetic engineering is applied to rid of life-threatening diseases, once the technology is released, it will be difficult to restrict customers from using gene editing to acquire particular cosmetic traits in their children. While gene editing certainly has its benefits, there are questions of ethics we must consider as a society. How far will we allow gene editing to go? What is a valid reason to select one embryo over another? Can any would-be parents do gene testing or only couples with predisposed diseases? It’s a topic that’s been on my mind recently, and as of now, I’m still unsure of where I stand on the matter. 

Those Days When We're Just Not Feeling It

Everyone has days where they’re down, or simply not feeling it. When this happens, our attitudes, our outlooks on life’s possibilities, and most importantly our happiness is skewed.

I wish everyday could be happy. I wish I could feel my best everyday, but never in anyone’s life will that ever happen. When I was five, I became mad over who got the last cookie in class, or who was the line leader in 4th grade. Now I become mad when I don’t perform well on a test or when I miss a workout. I believe there’s always going to be something that upsets us, and this is proportional to our age. For example, by the time I’m an adult, I may become disappointed with my performance in an interview which leads me to not get the job I want. There are so many possible outcomes in life which makes it difficult to pinpoint what triggers us. All I know is that things that trigger us are continuously going to change. 

This brings me back to what one of my house counselors told me, that one day, your world just expands and things that used to matter no longer do. It simply like now I don’t care who has the last cookie in the tray, or who’s the first to enter the classroom, or who’s the first to leave the classroom in the line. Things that used to matter to my 5-year-old self no longer do, and perhaps that’s the first signifier that yes, my world is expanding. I envision that in 20 years, that one physics test I bombed isn’t going to matter, even though it does today. Our worlds are expanding, and before we find what truly matters, the grass will always be greener on the other side.

That being said, I’m not always perfect. There are going to be days when I do things and when I say things that I otherwise wouldn’t do. I’m happy to say this usually only happens on my down days or on those days where I’m “just out of it”. In middle school, I worked on an art for social change project about empathy. I think it’s especially important in those times for me to be able to find my circle of people who will empathize and understand my exceptional, seemingly out-of-the-blue behavior that’s really a manifestation of an inner struggle. I suppose this week has a lot to do with that empathy project I worked on in middle school. Empathy is being with a person when they’re struggling. Empathy is understanding that on a blue day, a person will probably not be themselves and to be okay with that. Empathy. There it is again, a word I used to just say meaninglessly thinking I understood what it meant. Now I do. 

Focus on what's in my control

This weekend I hit my all time low of the term.

I took a physics test two weeks ago, and scored above average however, my teacher gives everyone retakes regardless of the initial score because the new score replaces the original. I decided to take my chances with the retake. I scored 15 points lower. 

For the past weekend, I’ve cried myself to sleep every night because of that one score. A couple of my classes are on the verge of where I want to be and this past retake test pulled my physics grade down. Though I have two more weeks and multiple exams in most subjects to improve upon, I feel a lot of pressure and I think I’m struggling to come to terms with myself. This morning, playing tennis was extremely difficult. I couldn’t concentrate and I seemed to be framing shots that I wouldn’t otherwise miss. My head was in another space. I couldn’t stop thinking about the work I needed to do and how little sleep I would be getting these upcoming two weeks. 

Why? Why am I overthinking all of this? On Friday night I was conferencing with my math teacher, and he told me I’m overthinking everything. He can tell my head is always in two places at once. Until Friday night, I’d never considered that possibility. Could I really be overthinking everything? I think I am. Instead of finding topics to solidify, I’m too busy preparing myself for a bad grade. Instead of focusing on playing tennis, I’m thinking about what I need to do for physics review. Instead of doing physics homework thoughtfully, I’m too concerned about how quickly I can complete it. Even as I’m blogging, I’m thinking about all the secondary sources I need to go through to write a successful history essay. Simply put, my math teacher says I’m setting expectations much too high for myself, and at this point, I’m in a rugged competition against myself. Coming to terms with myself and my limitations as a human will be my goal for the rest of this term. 

I would like to recenter myself through writing this post. Writing my feelings and thoughts out has pretty consistently been my second favorite ways to recuperate after exercising. Here I go. I’d like to ask myself what is an education? Why am I struggling? How can I improve? When I reconsidered why I’ve been so stressed and a sad this weekend, I said it’s because of that one test. Is that really it? I’ve written about resilience in the past. Is this at all demonstrating my understanding of resilience? I have two more weeks of school, and only one more week of classes. I suppose the most resilient thing I can do right now is to push through and focus on what’s in my control. 

You have to experience sadness to know happiness

"Some days are just bad days, that's all. You have to experience sadness to know happiness, and I remind myself that not every day is going to be a good day, that's just the way it is!" -Dita von Teese

Just like you have to experience cold weather to know hot weather, you have to experience knowing before you feel confused, you're feelings are hurt before you learn to stop hurting others' feelings, you have to work hard before you can feel relaxation, you have to give up once before you learn when to keep going, you have to lose before you can win, you have to sink before you can float.

For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. Perhaps Newton's Third Law applies beyond physics.

Every minute must be intentional

It’s sadden me that I’m giving up piano. I’ve been playing piano for over ten years now, and while I was never a rigorous player, I always practiced consistently. As a freshman, I found time to practice every night and over the summer, I practiced daily as well. Even though I’m just one year older, it’s so difficult to find time to practice. I practice maybe once per week, and during the weekends, I’m always cooped up in my dorm working on something. During my piano lesson last week, I told my teacher I would be dropping piano winter term. 

While I’m sitting here writing that I don’t have time to practice, the truth is, I think I could have time. My having to quit piano is really my own workings of not making time for it. When I look at all the people at school who seem to be part of every dance group, every math club, every community engagement, and every debate team, I always wonder how they do it. Maybe they cut back on sleep. Maybe they don’t finish all their homework. Maybe they do finish their homework for the week during the weekends, and then focus on those clubs during the week. The thing is, at Andover and in the rest of life, I realize that nothing is going to happen unless I make time for it. 

Perhaps I’ve learned this the hard way, by allowing myself to fall too deep into the habit of not practicing piano, and not making time for it. When I say “make time for it”, I mean write out a schedule and leave a slot blank. I didn’t realize how intentional making time had to be. Each weekend I’ve told myself, alright Ava, you’re gonna relax this weekend and watch a movie. It never happened. The TV’s would be off the entire weekend and my Amazon PrimeVideo app would not be opened either. This weekend, I tried something different. I told myself not to work from 7-8 PM. During that time I actually did not work and I found time to enjoy a portion of a movie. I suppose that’s how all those people on campus who seem to be a part of every club manage their time. I’ve learned nothing is just going to happen if I tell myself to do it. Every minute must be intentional, and making time for things in my life is really a testament of how well I can purposefully delegate time. 

Experiencing synergy through trust

I used to write frequently about about synergy after reading The Seven Habits of Highly Effective Teens by Stephen Covey. This was back in seventh grade, when I thought I grasped the power of working together with other people. My work with my club, Andover Business Club, this week has changed my understanding of the breadth and scope of this concept which I used to throw around so carelessly.  

I’m the President of Business Club on campus, and something we’ve been trying to start this year, is an on-campus delivery service of simple school supplies, toiletries, and snacks for boarders in hopes of saving people time and money. We call this service BluBoxes. I have been working closely with our club advisor and the deans on campus throughout this past month of school, but as we got the club rolling I realized I was doing everything by myself. I found myself communicating with the deans, the CFO, our club advisor, running club rally, in addition to organizing and planning out our weekly club meetings. It felt I was doing everything, and at club meetings, none of my other board members seemed to know how to help me. I remember telling them that the act of us sharing our ideas was good synergy. That was exactly the opposite of synergy, a concept I so strongly believed I understood as a middle schooler.  

I talked to one of the other board members of the club about feeling like I was doing everything for the club, from operations to planning to communications to execution. He responded very honestly, “Ava, that’s because you are.” That response took me by surprise. “You need to delegate jobs. It’ll be much faster and you won’t feel like you’re doing everything.” I hadn’t realized how accurate his statement was, until I reflected on why I felt the need to do everything. 

I think a major factor that drove me to try to do everything was the fact that I only trusted my own work. For me that hit me hard when the speed of the approval  process began to quicken, and when I realized how much closer we are to our first orders than I had previously believed. That was last week. It was when I realized I could no longer handle everything, and I decided to try “delegating”. 

Delegating seemed weird to me. I was no longer doing everything, I was overseeing everything that was done. That was a little bit scary at first, since I could no longer guarantee whether it would actually be done or not. I sent two people to prepare next weeks club meeting, one person to make a slideshow for it, two people to get an account with the school started for BluBoxes, two people to create an excel sheet with price comparisons for the various products we planned on selling, and for a few people to collectively manage the social media account.  I assigned this work on Tuesday evening, and when I checked in on the group chat, everything had already been completely. I walked into Saturday with money in a bank account, with a rolling Instagram account, a plan for the club meeting next week, and a slideshow to go with it, none of which I had explicitly done myself.  I still can’t quite fathom why in the past I only trusted myself to do tasks. I realize how selfish it was of me, and how inefficient it was for the club. I realize that this past week, we collectively made more progress than I’ve made in the past month by myself. This team work was very incredible.

More importantly, I’ve learned that the people who applied for board positions last year are on the board because they want to be there, and because they want to do this work for BluBoxes and Business Club. I’ve learned to trust them, and finally after four years of thinking I knew what it truly entailed, I’ve demonstrated synergy and experienced the power of this word that I used to throw around unknowingly. 

Life is a rollercoaster

Life is a rollercoaster. 

This week has made me realize how life is constantly a cycle of highs and lows but this week also made me realize how I’m not the only one on this rollercoaster. I started the week off feeling strong on Sunday evening. Sitting on the sofa in the common room, I stared at my english essay, thought about my physics test and I felt like I could conquer all my midterm assessments, four of which were on Friday. I felt a particular strength in my head, and an I can totally do this attitude pervaded through my body. 

This feeling of strength and happiness sustained all through Monday, but on Tuesday, the stress of physics hit me when I spent two hours on six homework problems. I went to Silent Study and sat there staring at my english essay, my french in-class essay, a math test, and my physics test. I remember trying to think about what each teacher expected of me, and I tried to stay positive. However it was difficult to stay positive when it felt like time slipped through of my fingers like grains of sand. 

By Wednesday night I was terribly stressed about physics as I had been unable to solve any problems without help. I had a math test the following the day which I felt underprepared for and in the midst of the stress and the frustration, I felt nothing but overwhelmed. It was the kind of night where I believed every second of the night counted and that what I did with every minute would make an impact on my performance and wellbeing the following day.

Friday night was my high of the week, as it habitually is. I took a walk downtown during the sunset after cross country, and all I could think to myself was, “wow, I made it”. I felt stronger than ever, and frankly, for a moment, I even thought I could conquer anything else that came at me after this week.  I went out to dinner with two of my friends, and we refrained from talking about exams. I think each of us wanted to clear our headspace from the long and stressful week. There was an evident sense of release and happiness amongst ourselves. I could see the glow in my friends’ eyes as we sat around the table, bonding over making it through the week and the scallion pancakes.

Andover is a special place for me: it builds an unique and tenacious character in each of its students. There’s a fire that burns in each of us on this campus that says, “I can do this.” I saw it in each of my friends this week, and it inspired me to feel similarly on Sunday night. But Andover in itself is a rollercoaster and that was a major theme for me this week. On nights that I felt down and overwhelmed, what motivated me to continue and push through was my belief that it would get better in the very near future.  

Life is a rollercoaster.

Saying no

Self care. That was one of the themes in this week’s All School Meeting, as speaker and author Hakeem Rahim talked about his struggles with bipolar disorder during his time as a student at Harvard.  He spoke of how he withdrew from Harvard for a period of time in order to recover and seek treatment, even though that meant giving up cheerleading, his academics, and a large part of his life at the university. However, even though he was disappointed and irritated that he was temporarily withdrawing, Rahim said that was a very important decision in his life, mostly because it meant taking time for himself to get better.

While I do not have bipolar disorder (or to go college for that matter), I think there are certain instances everyday where I do have the opportunity to make a decision that will impact my well being for following days.  It’s in those situations where I need to learn to say no. It’s hard to edge away from being a “yes-man”. At a school like Andover, there are so many things that I want to do in my extracurriculars, academics, and weekends. As I wrote about last week, there seems to be less time everyday and taking six courses is becoming increasingly difficult.  Being the yes-man I was last year is simply not going to cut the line for time management this year.  

I paid especially close attention to my time this weekend.  While I was not studying 24/7, there were many things I withdrew from short term to set myself up for success long term.  For example, on Friday our class had an optional laser tag trip.  About 80 kids in my grade signed up and I had initially as well.  However, on Friday night, after being hit harshly by some recent grades and academic work, I decided to take the night off to reflect, think, and work a little bit.  I opted to hang out by myself instead of go laser tagging, and while I’m not suggesting that I want to be a recluse, taking that night off allowed me to recuperate mentally from an exhausting week.  While I was unable to play one of my favorite childhood game, getting off that laser tag bus was probably one of the best decisions I made this weekend. 

Self-care. I want to recenter this post back to that word.  Self-care is not withdrawing from society and being a hermit.  Self-care, for me, is being able to involve myself with my own body, and knowing when I need time for myself and when I need time with other people.  It’s not overloading my schedule to the point where I leave myself stressed and sleep-deprived. And while I’m still much younger than Hakeem Rahim and not in college yet, I cherish his message of being able to say no and to understand and respond to one’s own feelings deeply as a platform towards better self-care in the long run. 

The chasm between age and lifestyle

Freshman year, I remember spending most of my time, during weekdays and on weekends outside of my dorm.  I would walk downtown for brunch and work downtown and I rarely spent time indoors.  I usually studied in the library for hours at a time on Saturdays and Sundays, often going to the library 5 minutes after it opened.  However, lower year has been different, in part because of the renovations on our library, in part because I’m not finding as strong a need to walk to different places to study.  

The library used to be a place where day students, boarders, students from the farthest corners of campus and students who lived in the dorms in the heart of campus gathered.  Habit wise, I’ve found that I end up spending more time in my dorm studying and chatting with my friends.  I’m not quite sure what happened to me this year, but I’m lacking the motivation I had last year to explore.  I enjoyed going out last year and seeing what was up and about on campus, but this year, as a returning student, I almost know what to expect everywhere I go.  For example, Commons is always a bit more rowdy on the weekends simply because there are only two dining halls open, GW is always quiet because it requires bluecard access, the playing fields are virtually empty unless there is a home game, and the gym is usually very empty.  I’m finding that I actually enjoy spending time in my dorm and as a result, I have stronger bonds with the people in my dorm.  

I remember as a freshman wondering why I rarely saw upperclassmen studying in the library.  I was curious and I explicitly remember asking people, how could someone stay in their dorm for the whole day? While I continue to make sure I get outside everyday for a couple hours at the bare minimum to get some exercise, I’m realizing how easy it is to get caught up in work and end up spending an entire Sunday/Saturday in the dorm.  

I suppose this goes to show the relationship between age and habit at Andover.  Habit is highly correlated with age at Andover.  There are some pretty obvious chasms between the workload, energy levels, and extracurricular commitments of different grades, and as I freshman, I thought I would always be able to live my life at Andover the way I lived last year.  Now I’m beginning to realize that going for a run and walk on Saturday may not be possible (and that I’d have to pick one), that spending an entire Sunday morning watching some episodes of a TV show on Amazon Prime may also not be possible, or spending three hours hanging out with a friend on a Saturday is not a good use of time.  

My lifestyle change is taking me by surprise.  It’s almost as if I’ve been subconsciously molded into a new lifestyle, even though I’m on the same campus with the same course load, and 48 hour weekends.  My vision of sustaining my freshman lifestyle throughout my entire time at Andover is becoming more distant.  I think what I have to prepare myself for is that I will have to prioritize as I get older and that my lifestyle will change as a result. I may spend less time outdoors walking, playing piano, and watching movies, but I’ll be able to study with friends and make closer bonds with the people in my dorm.  Age is change, and at Andover, this couldn’t be more true.   I guess all I can do is prepare myself.  

Insecurity Kills Dreams

"Insecurity kills more dreams than failure ever will"

I love the people in my dorm.  Each person in my dorm is unique in their own right. Some people are fashionistas, others are academically focused, some are varsity Crew rowers, others are theater production experts, and there are other people who are in our schools biggest improv group.  Each person in my dorm inspires me in a different way.  I guess that's the beauty of being in an upperclassmen dorm.  People are more focused in certain areas, they know what they like and what they dislike, and people's true colors are expressed.  

There's one girl in my dorm who's a senior.  She is one of the smartest people I know, a student in Organic Chemistry, expert in computer science, and from what I've heard, incredibly skilled in mathematics.  Every morning when I wake up, I go upstairs to the Common Room and I always pass by her room.  I've noticed that each week, she writes a different quote on her whiteboard.  I'm a aficionado for meaningful and unique quotes.  I found this on her white board earlier this week.  I've found that even as a returning lower I'm still trying to find my way and in the back of my mind this quote has pushed me to step outside my comfort zone, to talk to people who are new, to implement the feedback my English teacher gave me on my writing asap, to execute my clubs new venture, and dare to dream big.   

Thank you Zahra for this quote. 

Big People

“Be a bigger person…”.  It’s a phrase I constantly heard as a second grader, getting into brawls and arguments with my friends over petty things like who got in line first, whose responsibility it was to clean up the spill on the lunch table.  I admit I forgot about the phrase for a while, but recently, it can back to me again during our head of school’s speech at the first ASM of the year.  He spoke of three students who picked up trash on campus.  

Each year at Andover, there is a Vista walk during the first week of school for seniors.  There are refreshments and food, and of course, that easily leaves a mess since everyone is rushed to get to class.  However, the head spoke of how he spotted three students who were walking through campus and picked up that trash even though it wasn’t their responsibility.  They did it not because it was theirs, they didn’t do it for recognition, they did so just because it was there.  

When the head of school spoke of this instance, I thought of how those people were “being the bigger people”.  I suppose there’s no absolute, Merriam-Webster definition of a bigger person, because I believe it can apply to many situations.  Simply, I like to think of a bigger person as someone who doesn’t let the small things get in the way of a bigger consequence, and someone who acts without needing approval as motivation.  

In second grade during clean up, my classmates and I used to argue over who spilled the chocolate milk on the table, hence, who was responsible for wiping it up.  The bigger person would just clean up the spill, regardless of whether it was theirs or not, realizing that we couldn’t study if the table was wet. Of course, we were young back then, and no one wanted to get their hands dirty. Yet, even at school now, we often argue over who got into line first for food.  I suppose the bigger person would think, hey, it’s not a big deal if I’m not first in line but second.  Of course, this doesn’t happen, and sometimes (particularly for things like pizza), I see people shoving to be first in line.  Once, on the tennis courts, I heard two doubles teams arguing over the score. No, it was 10-8.  No, it’s 10-7.  However, I heard a person on the losing side say, “it’s fine, it’s just three points. 10-7”.  

These examples may not have done justice to the significance of big people, as I think I’ve portrayed a big person as “weak.”  For me, I’ve  tried to override this contradiction in my definition of a big person.  Someone who doesn’t let the small things get in the way of a bigger consequence.  So yes, I believe a big person can be determined and hard on important life changing decisions, like where to go to school, what major, what sports, how to treat friends, how to manage time, however they don’t allow those principles annihilate a healthy friendship or a couple seconds of their life that could make a bigger difference in someone else’s.  And now that I’ve come to think of it, I believe “big people” is merely a more philosophical way of saying someone with priorities.  

Being a Lower

’m back on campus.  Back with my friends.  Back to being a student.  I’m still not completely set with my routine yet, as I’ve only had one day of classes and no homework due yet.  Though life on campus is still liquidy and anything but stable, one thing is different this year: I am no longer part of the youngest class on campus.  As insignificant as that may seem, for most people in my grade, this has proved to be quite a new experience and it’s something we have talked about consistently throughout this week. 

It’s a different feeling homing back to a place where I spend the greater part of the year.  When I was new, it was very intimidating.  I tried to fake who I was, and I still remember how fast my heart was beating on moving in day as much as I was trying to hide it.  As a returning lower (sophomore), I know everyone in my grade besides the new lowers whom I’m eager and finding opportunities to meet. 

However, something my friends and I have continuously been observing is the freshman class.  Most notably, I noticed how they stuck together in humongous groups of at least ten people and I even groups of 30 people go downtown together!  I wonder why there are such large groups, in fact, I’ve rarely seen freshman travel by themselves.  They’re always in groups, so curious I talked to some older kids in my dorm.  They said this is consistent across ALL new freshman classes.  The I’m new in a big school where I know nobody,  I need to travel with people, power in numbers mentality.  Is that what’s going through people’s minds?  I must have been like that last year, I just don’t remember it.  But it intrigues how now that I’m just one year older, I don’t have to stick in those large groups.  Is it growing up? Or is it acquired confidence?

Another great thing I’ve noticed about being a lower and having a year at school under my belt, is I know more people.  I’ve said “hi so-and-so” so many times so far, I think I’ve greeted more people in these past four days than I greeted my entire first month of school last year where I knew close to no one.  And it’s a nice feeling.  It truly is.  It feels like I have a presence, that I’m there, and that people remember me. Of course there are plenty of people who I don’t know, but it’s a different feeling than last year, when I didn’t know the names of even the people in my own grade.  I remember walking around, seeing a face, and thinking “oh shoot, what’s their name again?” Honestly though, they were probably thinking the same thing.  

Being a lower also comes with more freedom as I expected.  There’s no lights out, and though sign in is still the same, my house counselors are more forgiving about accidental lateness.  I want to note how last year, the student body co presidents were welcoming/re-welcoming kids to the new school year.  They described the roles of each of the grades and they said lower year as the year where “you’re just sorta there.”  Maybe they’re right in saying that.  But now that I’ve moved in and settled down, I think I can at least say I’m excited to just be here. 

Summer 2018 Wrap Up

Summer is inevitably coming to an end.  The seasons are changing and weeks earlier, I’d already been able to feel the days shorten.  This summer felt different from others.  Overall, less blurred, more crystal clear and everything that happened, from travel to camp to daily life appears to be more distinct and separate in my mind.  Perhaps this is due to my regimented lifestyle this summer…I woke up at 6:22 just about everyday, I walked to town for lunch everyday on the weekdays, played tennis after dinner with the ball machine, and started each morning reading a book with my breakfast.  I believe this order, this schedule, has enabled me to store each detail of this summer in my head.   It’s one of the those summers where someone asks me what did you do? and I can give them a concise, confident, and to-the-point answer.  

Maybe it’s also a signifier that I didn’t do enough.  That I didn’t vary my schedule enough, that I didn’t go out and do something spontaneous.  I’m not one who likes to be reminiscent, and when I look back, I don’t think there was much I could’ve done differently.  I could’ve gone to the city more often, or taken longer walks to Harvard Square, but I think the weather this summer was keeping me back.  

Last summer, I wrote a Summer 2017 Wrap Up.  Looking back on it, some of the habits or interests that I picked up such as wearing visors, listening to Planet Money, tennis, and walks to town and back for lunch.  These habits were developed last summer and it intrigues me to see how they play a role in my life today.  This has encouraged me to continue this “Summer X Wrap Up” post.  Here’s 2018.

Reading

• The Great Alone by Kristin Hannah
  
• Beneath the Scarlet Sky by Mark Sullivan
  
• Educated by Tara Westover
  
• The Glass Castle by Jeannette Walls
  
• I’ll Be Gone in the Dark by Michelle McNamara
  
• Greek Mythology series that I got in Greece!
  
• Crazy Rich Asians by Kevin Kwan
  
• The Goldfinch by Donna Tartt
  

This summer’s selection of reading definitely peaked my interest in autobiographies and memoirs which is hopefully a genre I will continue to read in the future. 

What I Watched 

• American Psycho
  
• Scarlet Heart Ryeo
  
• Primal Fear
  
• The Murder on the Orient Express
  
• Gone Girl
  
• Crazy Rich Asians
  

By far the best of these movies that I watched was American Psycho, a true classic in both literature and Hollywood. 

What I Listened to

• Beautiful by Bazzi
  
• High on Life by Martin Garrix
  
• Don’t Leave Me Alone by David Guetta
  
• Illenium music
  
• Moon River
  
• Careless Whisper
  
• Jazz radios
  

Miscellaneous 

• I discovered the brand Jack Rogers which I wore pretty much every day.  They’re comfortable and I found they were easy to dress up and dress down.  Different from last year, where I wore boat shoes as my t
  
• Became addicted to Starbucks.  Went most days of the week and ordered the same thing every time.  The guy at the cashier knew my order by the end of summer.
  
• Went to Harvard Debate Camp and learned some pretty useful debate tricks that I’ve found applicable in arguments
  
• Walk to town  (same as last summer)
  
• Tennis after dinner which I’ve found helps me sleep better (same as last summer)
  
• Tried volleyball which I don’t think I will ever do again.  It’s a difficult sport and the pain is an accustomed feel that I found I don’t want to invest the time to feel accustomed to.
  
• Nails.  I became obsessed with nail colors as I find it oddly therapeutic to paint them.  I have become an oddball who buys multiple shades of pinks that are unnoticeably different from each other.

I don’t want to describe this summer as uneventful, but I don’t think it particularly stood out.  I certainly got some much needed rest, but besides that, I think my life was fairly consistent from day to day.  Tomorrow is moving in day for returning students.  I was in Boston with my friend yesterday and we were discussing our outlooks on the year.  She describes it as “hopeful”.  I think I will describe it as “coming-with-optimism”.

The People We Can Never Fully Reciprocate: Chinese culture and the act of giving back

There’s a tradition in Chinese culture that has always quite intrigued me: reciprocation.  Reciprocation in every sense from what I’ve heard in my family.  Simple things such as, you brought us mooncakes this year, we will buy them for you next year.  Or, you lent us some money for college, we will give you the same when your child goes to college.  I hear more about reciprocation on my mom’s side of the family as her family is still based throughout China and is larger than my dad’s side.  But this cultural tradition intrigues me because it instills a mentality of learning and growing together.  Reciprocation is the nexus between two acquaintances, the oxygen that keeps the fire in a family going, and while I’m not extremely knowledgeable on Chinese culture, I know reciprocation plays a role in the way of life for many people in China.  Essentially, it’s a principle that says one shouldn’t just take and take and take; one must give back.

I’ve tried to become more aware of this in simple and everyday notions.  In conversations, my mom often says I talk too much.  It’s not the worst of problems, but I admit I’m quite chatty particularly when I’m in the mood.  But this hinders me from learning from others when I have conversations, which can be filled with my thoughts, opinions, and recent reminisces.  Buddha once said, “If you’re mouth is open, you’re not learning.”  I feel this couldn’t be truer in conversation, as I cut off my ability to receive, or another person’s ability to reciprocate.  While the sharing and purchasing of mooncakes is one deed that can be reciprocated, the sharing and passing of knowledge is perhaps of a more paramount importance.  

It’s difficult to say, and I’ve been playing with this idea, but I’ve noticed there are some people in one’s life who you can never reciprocate.  Yes, most people I meet I can give and take from them.  We share ideas.  We spend time with each other.  We give each other emotional support.  And while I believe acting out of genuine care and appreciation is the ultimate lesson reciprocation teaches, there are people who you can never give back enough.  There’s only a few special people like this and at this point in my life, as I am preparing to head off to my second year at Andover, thinking about how eighth grade was the year I lived in my parents house everyday (and probably ever will), I can’t help but feel grateful.  This appreciation has pleasantly awashed me each morning these past few days, 24 hours closer to moving in day of my sophomore year of high school.  Because honestly, at this point in my life, the two people whom I feel I will never be able to fully reciprocate are my parents.  And while I will support them when they’re old, they’ve given me an education, family, and handed me life: gifts that are virtually impossible to give back.  I’ve thought about this here and there, toyed with the idea for a little while and I’ve come to conclude that this may be the only exception with China’s cultural tradition of reciprocation fails to fulfill.  

The Great Nation We Are - John McCain

“Some might read this and say to themselves, "Who gives a damn what happened to a terrorist after what they did on September 11?" But it's not about them. It never was. What makes us exceptional? Our wealth? Our natural resources? Our military power? Our big, bountiful country? No, our founding ideals and our fidelity to them at home and in our conduct in the world make us exceptional. They are the source of wealth and power. Living under the rule of law. Facing threats with confidence that our values make us stronger than our enemies. Acting as an example to other nations of how free people defend their liberty without sacrificing the moral conviction upon which it is based, respect for the dignity possessed by all God's children, even our enemies. This is what made us the great nation that we are.” -John McCain

Why I value Progress

This summer is when I realized how unhealthily competitive kids in high school are.  Some days it seems that all my friends are in higher math and sciences classes than me.  Some days, it feels as if everyone has already taken AP math exams.  Some days, it feels like no matter how much I try to study over the summer, I can’t catch up to them.  However, it dawned on me today as I was taking a walk: why am I trying so hard to learn a years worth of math in three months that my friends know just because they started learning math earlier?  This is certainly not meant as consolidation, or meant to signify giving up.  In fact it’s much the opposite.

A few years ago, my dad told me something thoughtful that I’ve somehow managed to exhume from the bottom of my memory and apply to my life almost everyday recently.  He told me, “It doesn’t matter where you start, as long as you make progress everyday.”  Something that kept nagging me last year was the fact that I was not in as high a math level as many of my friends.  It nagged me and chewed at the edges of my stomach every time a group of my friends were all doing precalc and trigonometry together in a circle as I was sitting on the side crunching at some geometry homework.  It bothered me a bit that I couldn’t participate.  

But there’s a reason behind this.  At my old school, math was taught in a different order than it’s taught at my high school.  Thus, the math I had learned in middle school was preparing me to delve right into precalc rather than geometry.  Turns out my friends’ middle schools learned math in the reverse order, with geometry during middle school, preparing for precalc in high school.  I was put in geometry simply because I didn’t know it.  

That bothered me, that I would never be able to “catch up” to them in the path of the course.  In the beginning of this summer, I was doing hours long of math almost daily.  I desperately wanted to learn three terms worth of math in the span of two months so I pushed and pushed.  I wanted to catch up with my friends, some of whom were a year ahead of me.  It was tiring and I don’t believe I actually retained information as well as I could have. 

It recently dawned on me that I don't have to do that.  This summer I realized that making progress is the most important part of learning and of development as my dad said.  I’ve found that maybe I don't need to do two and a half hours of math everyday as long as I’m making progress with the time that I am spending.  And for me, that’s enough.  

While high school students are competitive in almost every sense, from athletics, to arts, to academics, to even college applications, something I’m striving to live by is not to make noticeable progress in understanding, in application, or in habit everyday.  It’s a lifestyle of learning and improvement and while I may not start in the highest level in everything I do, I believe it’s important to fill in the gaps where they exist.  After all, there’s a famous adage, It is not where you start that matters but it is where you end does.  What I like about this particular quote is that it says where we start doesn’t matter since we all come from different backgrounds.  While I don’t believe there is ever an “end” to learning, progress, progress, progress is something I will try to live by.  

Crazy Rich Asians as a platform to racial equality

Through Youtube advertisements, through Amazon Charts, through online trailers, through NPR radio discussions, most of us have probably at least heard of the new movie titled and based off Kevin Kwan’s book, Crazy Rich Asians.  Even though the book was originally published in 2014, It was merely two weeks ago when I was browsing through some new music videos on Youtube, that I first saw the advertisement for this new movie.  Here’s what continues to surprise me: how little time I’ve known this book and how greatly it has inspired and empowered me as an Asian American. I was immediately drawn and hooked to the story, the actors, and the setting of the movie on the Youtube advertisement; I didn’t even press the “Skip Ad” button that appeared in the corner of the screen.  And almost immediately after I saw the ad, I looked the book up on Amazon to find that it had over 2K reviews, and was an acclaimed National Bestseller.  Of course I ordered it. 

The day it arrived in the mail, I began to devour page after page, chapter after chapter.  Less than a week later, I finished the book.  By then, I was merely waiting for the release of the movie.  Finally, yesterday, two days after the movie was released, I had the opportunity to see it. I spent the day in Boston with my good friends (AR and SMC!!) and went to the movie theaters after to see Crazy Rich Asians.  

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Crazy Rich Asians is empowering for so many reasons, I believe for Asians in particular.  A long time personal struggle for me has been dealing and facing stereotypes about Asians and Asian Americans.  What’s incredibly unique about Crazy Rich Asians is that it has an entirely Asian cast.  Viewers receive insight into the lives of (some crazy rich) Asians, that may even appeared skewed to those who hold prejudice to how Asians should live.  I’ve seen many movies where the Asians are the housekeepers, or the nannies, or the maids.  While the maids and entertainers in Crazy Rich Asians were Asian, it was empowering being able to sit in front of the screen, and see people of my race in positions of power as well.   

Perhaps one of the biggest stereotypes about Asians is that they may appear to be “submissive”, or nerdy, more “delicate”, or despising of loud and social events etc, as they are often portrayed in movies and TV shows. In the past, I’ve felt that Asians are seen as this and that stereotype.  That was it.  No one fell outside of the stereotype.  Every Asian was in some way bound to one stereotype or another.  I somehow fell into the stereotypes about Asians that were portrayed in movies but with time, I’ve come to believe race doesn’t define and solidify personality; it just shapes one’s appearance.   

In Crazy Rich Asians, I sincerely felt every type of person was portrayed.  There were fun and party loving people Asians.  There were the Asians who didn’t receive good marks in school.  There were the outgoing and the certainly the funny Asians (Peik Lin…).  The serious ones, the caring ones, the mean and the notorious ones.  Everyone was represented.  Crazy Rich Asians surely captured this message in a fun and fast rom-com.  

I was listening to a NPR radio discussion about this movie/book.  One of the Asians being interviewed during the session talked about how Crazy Rich Asians also portrayed the chasms between Asians who grew up in Asia, versus another country.  Rachel Chu, the lead character, is a Chinese immigrant who grew up in California.  However, when she goes to Singapore with her boyfriend, she realizes how different she is culturally.  For example, she didn’t know how to make dumplings, even though she is Chinese.  Or, at the party, a server came around with a finger washing liquid, which Rachel almost drank thinking it was wine.  This for me goes a long way in showing how where we grow up influences our personalities and knowledge, further illustrating how slight of a role race plays besides determining one’s appearance.  In fact, in Rachel’s case, she was so culturally assimilated that the only real “Asian” part of her was her appearance.  Rachel’s boyfriend’s mother describes Rachel as “yellow on the outside, white on the inside”.  

Crazy Rich Asians is both constructed on stereotypes while defying them.  Indubitably, stereotypes are based on some truth. The issue with extreme ones is that they are no longer just a stereotype; they become a societal expectation.  I believe this is where it becomes a steep slope for many, it’s the line people cross when they’re unsure.  It’s when one feels they must behave, act, talk in a way that fits into that societal expectation.  Crazy Rich Asians defies those societal constructions in the swiftest way, by showing all different kinds of Asians all in one movie.  So much so that the community in the movie could be compared to a community of any other race with diverse and distinct arrays of people.  

It intrigues me how little time I’ve spent on Crazy Rich Asians (just two weeks!) and the way it has made me think in such short time.  While I most definitely enjoyed the book more than the movie, I would recommend both to all readers!  It’s an eye opener, written by an Asian male, and truly defies the cookie-cutter societal standards through show and portrayal.