In some households the child is provided with every answer. Every outfit it is chosen for them and every meal is planned out, but in my household, with my parents, I was free to make my own choices. My parents let me express myself in any outlet. They never forced anything on me except education, because for them, that was the only thing they ever really wanted of their children, to see them complete their education and live a successful life. The extent of the success was up to us.
My parents are Filipino immigrants; they came to America with hopes for a better life for themselves, but mostly for their children. My eldest brother is 18 years older than me, and my brother before me is six years older than me. My siblings were able to enjoy the youthful and carefree time with my parents, but unlike my siblings, I grew up seeing the harshness of the reality my parents faced. I watched first hand as my parents struggled to pay bills, sat at the table the day my mom said we lost our house, and sent the emails asking for oversea jobs for my dad. Life in America has been difficult for them, and I saw as the stress of their work wear down on my aging parents. They often say that although life is not always easy, it heals them to know that I, the youngest child, am undoubtedly going to live prosperously the way they never did, and that all they hope is to see me succeed. That is the expectation I grew up with. It is what tucked me into bed at night and brought me to my feet every morning. I must succeed in order to repay my debt to my parents.
It is strange for me to think that there are different structures in every household, because the way my parents taught me is the only way I've ever known. It was not until my sophomore year that I realized that not everyone wants to go to college, because for me college has always been the next step, there was no if ands or buts. Under the radar of my parents and the constant knowing that I must make them proud I tried to do everything and anything I could for them. Every award won, every A of my report card, was a smile on their face. I use to despise their expectations for me because I felt that they were trying to control me, but as I matured I realized that their expectations were their way of supporting me and showing me that they believed that I was capable of anything. I know now that although I was unable to share in my parents' youth, I was given all their wisdom for the future.
(472)
My parents are Filipino immigrants; they came to America with hopes for a better life for themselves, but mostly for their children. My eldest brother is 18 years older than me, and my brother before me is six years older than me. My siblings were able to enjoy the youthful and carefree time with my parents, but unlike my siblings, I grew up seeing the harshness of the reality my parents faced. I watched first hand as my parents struggled to pay bills, sat at the table the day my mom said we lost our house, and sent the emails asking for oversea jobs for my dad. Life in America has been difficult for them, and I saw as the stress of their work wear down on my aging parents. They often say that although life is not always easy, it heals them to know that I, the youngest child, am undoubtedly going to live prosperously the way they never did, and that all they hope is to see me succeed. That is the expectation I grew up with. It is what tucked me into bed at night and brought me to my feet every morning. I must succeed in order to repay my debt to my parents.
It is strange for me to think that there are different structures in every household, because the way my parents taught me is the only way I've ever known. It was not until my sophomore year that I realized that not everyone wants to go to college, because for me college has always been the next step, there was no if ands or buts. Under the radar of my parents and the constant knowing that I must make them proud I tried to do everything and anything I could for them. Every award won, every A of my report card, was a smile on their face. I use to despise their expectations for me because I felt that they were trying to control me, but as I matured I realized that their expectations were their way of supporting me and showing me that they believed that I was capable of anything. I know now that although I was unable to share in my parents' youth, I was given all their wisdom for the future.
(472)
