![]() ![]() Their beliefs may not be completely valid, but they never said I couldn’t pursue a more liberal subject simply because they didn’t know I wrote. Sure, my parents encouraged my music career, but all they wanted was for me to find my passion. I’d just much rather read and write words than music notes, and I also just happen to be an Asian with traditional Asian parents. ![]() My counselor and parents may seem to have ill intentions, but identity politics aren’t what’s at play here. In actuality, my irrational thinking did. Up until that point, I’d thought my parents and race dictated my future. When I came into freshman year, I believed that being Asian meant continuing violin until I graduated, so I stopped writing to focus on music.īut those two minutes of my stuttering and half-finished sentences as I was forced to choose between orchestra and journalism put my preconceived notions into perspective. A flashlight in one hand and a pen in the other, I conducted my writing sessions under my bedcovers after my parents were asleep. After every long-winded lecture on my musical incompetence, I’d write to vent. I aimed to never verbalize my desire to quit music, but my ranking as the worst violinist in my school’s orchestra was all my parents needed me to say. However, the shame of having an interest in liberal arts, coupled with the fear of being shunned by my parents, kept me from expressing my passion for writing to my parents. I found solace not in playing scales and concertos, but in writing short stories and poetry. In fourth grade, I started playing violin.
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