Random Thought #9873249

Growing up in a bi-cultural environment was tough, really tough. When kids would go out and play after school, I was being shipped to violin lessons or SAT prep classes; when kids got to spend the night at their friends' houses for sleep-overs, I had to stay home and study; when kids were applauded for getting a 95% on their quizzes and tests, I was constantly asked where the extra 5 points had gone. It wasn't easy.

Granted, growing up part Traditional Chinese did have its perks, such as great food, strict manners and red packs. Yes, the red packs made a year-long of belittling, strict disciplinary actions and harsh punishments all worth while.

After graduating high school and moving to Washington, DC., for college, I thought to myself, "finally, I can have my freedom and experience that part of childhood I have never had." While I had lived that proclamation to its fullest, I still felt trapped, but why?

Then while riding on the metro going to work today, it dawned on me. The hardest part about growing up in a multi-cultural family is not the clash of cultures we experience when we lived at home, no; the hardest part comes after that - it comes when we have entered the real world and trying to break those traditions attempting to assimilate; the time when you need to differentiate the good and the bad about both cultures and combine only the good. We can no longer only, at this point, blame our parents saying that, "they wouldn't let me do this," or "they wouldn't let me do that; therefore I am the way that I am today." No, The decision rests solely on our own judgments. We can no longer say, "I had no choice," and I believe taking responsibilities for the first time in your life is the hardest part.

But then again, you can say that about a whole lot of other stuff.