My parents taught me three things throughout the years.

Values passed from mouth to ear,

From parent to child.

Number one: Be silent.

Do not talk back to an adult. Save your family’s face.

Number two: Be submissive.

Always do what you’re told to do. Don’t question. Don’t argue. Save your family’s face.

Number three: Be superior.

You must top everyone. Strive to be the best, and if there’s better, be them. Don’t lose.

Save your family’s face.

 

I call these principles the Trinity of S,

The gateway of finding the sole goal: success.

My parents taught me that through perseverance,

Through hard work,

That life would be easy,

That I could do anything.

 

I’m not a pioneer for there’s a race behind me

Who pushed through the language barrier,

Slaved away at laborious work,

And left their homes

In pursuit of what we call the “American Dream.”

 

But what do we get out of decades of hard work?

Penalties!

We must score higher.

We must volunteer more.

We must jump over higher hurdles than everyone

Because we work hard!

And what do our parents get out of this?

Debt!

Debt from scraping money together to send us to cram schools.

Debt from trying to make ends meet while paying loans to prestigious universities.

Debt from not having enough aid because our income is too high

Because they, too, have worked hard!

 

My parents, our parents, came to this country

With nothing, but their mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters,

And papers.

Yet, when they broke ground, they ran.

They sprinted to squeeze a life out of nothing.

 

This is the weight of filial piety and debt

That I carry on my tiny back every day

As I start my own marathon to prove to someone that

I can do anything.

 

But I haven’t even proven to myself that

I want to accept who I am.

I’m a writer who calculates molarities.

I’m a reader who studies the mitosis cycle.

I’m an artist in a lab coat.

 

On being Asian, I face the dichotomous dilemma of who I am

And who I must uphold.

“When will my reflection show who I am inside”

Is the anthem I sing every time I look into a mirror.

 

They say the loudest duck gets shot,

But I don’t want to be silent.

They say respect your elders,

But I don’t want to be submissive.

They say to use your time wisely,

But I don’t want to be superior.

 

As a girl, other children with black in their heart

And hurt in their hands,

Often seared me with this question,

“Can you even see me?”

But, really, the question is

Can you see me?