Anonymous asked: Hi Lena! Like you, I'm a first-generation Asian college student that does not come from a financially privileged family. As much as my parents tell me to do whatever makes me happy, I can tell that they're extremely disappointed I'm not following the rest of the Asians and majoring in Bio-this or Chem-that with grand hopes of medical school. How did your parents feel about you going to Harvard but not going pre-med?

DISCLAIMER: I don’t think that my experience is representative of everyone’s experiences. I’m only speaking for those who had strict Asian parents, a phenomenon which is deeply rooted in cultural beliefs in academic excellence and filial piety.

I love that this question was asked because it forces us to confront the very real financial restraints that prevent people from doing what they want in life. Asian parents are notorious for priding academic excellence and professional success, in part because many of them (like my own) came from impoverished backgrounds. My parents immigrated to the United States, leaving everything they’ve ever known in China behind, in hopes of a better future for themselves and their family. Naturally, they and other immigrants like them would want their children to pursue career paths offering the kind of prosperity they’ve never known. And of course, there’s the accompanying prestige of becoming a doctor, a lawyer, a consultant, etc.

So first of all, I think we should enlighten non-Asian readers on the huge cultural emphasis on familial piety. Disobeying your parents — even when you’re an adult, in some instances — is a huge no-no in Asian families. Given the sacrifices my own parents made, I certainly felt quite obligated to follow their rules. Even if I knew they were wrong, I realized that they had good intentions and were only concerned with my best interests. In my case, my interest in writing developed from a very early age, and though my mother would’ve loved for me to major in something “serious”, she realized by the time I applied to college that I was not going to give up writing for anyone — not her, not for a then-high school boyfriend who expected me to stay in California, and not certainly not for the sake of family honor. She was supportive of my applying to Northwestern’s Medill School of Journalism (which she knew was my first choice), so she was so thrilled by my surprise Harvard acceptance that she wouldn’t have even cared if I majored in English (which is really saying something). So I lucked out in that my mother eventually came around, and as Monica Tan wrote very eloquently in a post for Rachel Hills’ blog:

I would encourage every Asian daughter to do what is true to her heart. [My friend] Nicole discovered when she was accepted to drama school that her parents’ threats of disownership were hollow indeed (although the occasional comment continues to slip: “You like that house? It could have been yours if you’d become a doctor”). And there must be a degree of faith that, when rebellion is done humbly and kindly, the hearts and minds of even the most stubborn Asian parents can be expanded.

Second of all, why are certain occupations so prestigious anyway? Precisely because they make people a lot of money and afford you a certain type of lifestyle. There’s nothing inherently “better” about being a doctor versus say, being a teacher or a social worker, but the former comes with wealth and social status. I don’t particularly care about the latter, but of course, it would be nice if I were making more money through my writing. The fact that I don’t make a lot of money, however, doesn’t make me think that I have a crappy job or that I’m a failure, just as earning a huge salary doesn’t mean someone has a good job. (My friends in banking, for example, have no social lives and are definitely taken advantage of by their companies.) I think everyone knows this, deep down, to some extent, but of course, even among my own peers, many of those who couldn’t score a 9-to-5 job on Wall Street feel like they somehow failed.

And last, I don’t think it’s at all reasonable to assume that everyone can or should “be whatever you want to be”. Tan writes of her friend:

But at the same time, Nicole says, “the fact that I know that it breaks my father’s heart to allow me to do this breaks mine.” So if your heart tells you that doing as your parents ask will probably make you happier (particularly where there are a lot of upsides to the life they want for you) than pursuing a path that will displease them, there’s no shame in that either.

I’m glad that Monica doesn’t just outright say that you should go and follow your dreams no matter what. Being able to pursue your lifelong passion is an enormous luxury that most people can’t afford (even if their parents are totally on board with it). The fact that I can be a writer and take my time to work on an unpaid book proposal is a privilege that I am grateful for everyday. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not because I think my writing is so fabulous that I will definitely make it, but rather, it’s that I’m willing to assume a certain amount of risk and loss (when it comes to both time and money) since I know I have a Harvard degree to fall back on. In other words, I’m gambling on the fact that I can still get a high-paying gig in public relations or marketing if I wind up not being able to find an agent or buyer for my book.

My parents recognize the advantages of a Harvard education, so for the time being, they’re not critical of my decision to write, especially since I’ve been self-sufficient so far. But my choices aren’t necessarily right for everyone and not everyone is lucky enough to be able to take the same chances. Rather than framing this as an issue of rebellion against one’s parents, we should look at it as an illustration of how financial circumstances and the market economy limit people’s abilities to pursue what they really want.

More burning questions? Ask Lena.

Related posts on growing up first-generation Asian:
Are my “fucked-up” views directly related to my relationship with my parents?
Reader question: “How did you break free from crazy Asian parental grasps?”