Why aren't you into sciences? Math isn't hard at all so why are you struggling?
A good part of my childhood was laden with questions like these. I grew up in what I would describe as a conservative and typical Chinese household, in which my parents dictated my future and growing up, I felt as though I was constantly drowning in a culture fostering competition. Every assignment I received back was accompanied by a question as to how my friends did and everything I did was examined with a fine-toothed comb and compared to my relatives and family friends. My grades, my table etiquette, how I clean the house. Everything. My parents believed that if I did everything they wanted and stayed on top, I would achieve my maximum potential. The mindset that I had to always be number one in order to be successful was drilled into me. Their way was the right way.
My life changed with swimming. My parents originally possessed a deep desire for me to become a talent pianist, but as the years passed, my 30 minute swim lessons turned into three hour club practices and piano faded into the background. In the summer of Grade 10, my parents enrolled me in a training swim program spearheaded by the retired coach of China's Olympic team and by Grade 11, I received the MVP award and won several regional and provincial Silver and Gold medals.
With swimming, I began to realize that I didn't buy into the competitive nature of my environment. When people congratulate me on all my successes, I can't help but think that none of the rankings and races matter. What mattered was the realization that life has nothing to do with competing with others and everything about competing with yourself. My journey began with me always stressing about the swimmer in the next lane, but after experiencing the satisfaction and accomplishment of seeing my sprint time drop, even by a few milliseconds, the only thing that mattered whether or not I had beaten my personal best.
To my astonishment, I wasn't alone in my discoveries. Surprisingly, my parents understood my realizations and saw the happiness and success that came with doing what I loved. As the years passed, they realized that my diversion off their intended path wasn't bad at all. I was doing well in school, made friends, and most importantly, enjoying my life. Swimming set off a wonderful chain of events. With my parents' new found open mindedness, I stepped off the path the rest of my family - engineers and doctors and instead intend to make my own career out of business. My dreams and aspirations are now driven not by competition but rather what I love.
Swimming helped me become atypical compared to _______. My eyes are now opened to the supportive community surrounding me and I am no longer driven by the want to beat others or achieve the highest grades. I no longer aspire to become what my parents want and am unafraid to pursuit my interests - business, law, and linguistics. Because of swimming, gone are the typical dreams and aspirations of my conservative Chinese background and here I stand: no longer a part of the crowd, but one girl off to the side, happy with where she is. (tailor)
A good part of my childhood was laden with questions like these. I grew up in what I would describe as a conservative and typical Chinese household, in which my parents dictated my future and growing up, I felt as though I was constantly drowning in a culture fostering competition. Every assignment I received back was accompanied by a question as to how my friends did and everything I did was examined with a fine-toothed comb and compared to my relatives and family friends. My grades, my table etiquette, how I clean the house. Everything. My parents believed that if I did everything they wanted and stayed on top, I would achieve my maximum potential. The mindset that I had to always be number one in order to be successful was drilled into me. Their way was the right way.
My life changed with swimming. My parents originally possessed a deep desire for me to become a talent pianist, but as the years passed, my 30 minute swim lessons turned into three hour club practices and piano faded into the background. In the summer of Grade 10, my parents enrolled me in a training swim program spearheaded by the retired coach of China's Olympic team and by Grade 11, I received the MVP award and won several regional and provincial Silver and Gold medals.
With swimming, I began to realize that I didn't buy into the competitive nature of my environment. When people congratulate me on all my successes, I can't help but think that none of the rankings and races matter. What mattered was the realization that life has nothing to do with competing with others and everything about competing with yourself. My journey began with me always stressing about the swimmer in the next lane, but after experiencing the satisfaction and accomplishment of seeing my sprint time drop, even by a few milliseconds, the only thing that mattered whether or not I had beaten my personal best.
To my astonishment, I wasn't alone in my discoveries. Surprisingly, my parents understood my realizations and saw the happiness and success that came with doing what I loved. As the years passed, they realized that my diversion off their intended path wasn't bad at all. I was doing well in school, made friends, and most importantly, enjoying my life. Swimming set off a wonderful chain of events. With my parents' new found open mindedness, I stepped off the path the rest of my family - engineers and doctors and instead intend to make my own career out of business. My dreams and aspirations are now driven not by competition but rather what I love.
Swimming helped me become atypical compared to _______. My eyes are now opened to the supportive community surrounding me and I am no longer driven by the want to beat others or achieve the highest grades. I no longer aspire to become what my parents want and am unafraid to pursuit my interests - business, law, and linguistics. Because of swimming, gone are the typical dreams and aspirations of my conservative Chinese background and here I stand: no longer a part of the crowd, but one girl off to the side, happy with where she is. (tailor)
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