Learning how to spell

Back in elementary school, I once argued with my parents over the spelling of the word “farm.”

Halfway through our argument, I realized my parents were correct, but what first grader wants to admit that? Thus, in the end, my stubbornness and first grader ego emerged victorious and I proudly turned in my homework with the word “form” scribbled somewhere in the assignment.

Looking back, I can’t help but chortle at the embarrassing memory. I’ve come a long way since then. I’d like to think I’m now a relatively proficient speller—though I sometimes write “safetly” and not “safely” for whatever odd reason—and have definitely mastered distinguishing “farm” from “form.” I’m now a student at Duke and according to the overwhelming plethora of university rankings, that apparently means I have done fairly well for myself so far.

When my parents decided to immigrate to America, neither of them ever imagined their two kids would attend such prominent universities. It’s not that they thought we were dumb, but frankly because they didn’t know the names of any American colleges besides Harvard. Heck, even after I was accepted to Duke, my mom sometimes struggled to remember which state Duke was in. My parents moved to the United States with close to zero words in their English vocabulary. Unfortunately, one can really only say, “hello,” and ask, “Where is the bathroom?” in so many situations. The move was bold, ever so daring, and though they never explicitly admit it, probably absolutely terrifying as well. I often wonder how I would’ve acted if I were in their shoes and if I would’ve been able to do what they did.

Last semester, my sister was offered a job at a top-notch finance company. When she told my parents, they were absolutely ecstatic and since then, my parents have rehearsed their pronunciation of the company’s name in hopes of bringing it up in conversations with their friends. They almost have it down, I think, and hopefully, they will have it mastered before my sister actually starts working.

Like my parents, when I first heard the news, I was blown away. It wasn’t necessarily the prestige of the company or the overly casual message regarding the offer that my sister sent me via Facebook that astounded me. Rather, in my mind as well as my parents’, she had made “it.” Having moved to the U.S. in fourth grade, she had overcome all odds—the language barrier, vast cultural differences, and an entirely foreign land. Having a steady income and a prestigious job at a caliber his or her parents’ could never have dreamed of achieving in America is, more often than not, every immigrant parent’s dream for their children.

Here at Duke, we are all driven individuals. Perhaps your “it” is a specific job, a certain income threshold, or anything that proves and screams “Look, everyone! I’m successful!” It is an unhealthy definition to say the least and in the past, especially under times of stress, I have viewed my own “it” as proving to myself that my parents’ immigration was worthwhile. Yet, it is silly to think our entire life should revolve around obtaining that one “it.”

After my sister became officially employed, she was still my sister and everything remained rather constant. This job that I supposedly thought was her “it” will be one of many of her accomplishments to come. Many hold the mindset that achieving their “it” will free them from any and all other concerns. They become obsessed with and fail to see anything but that marvelous moment of obtaining their goal.