Blog
HomeRSS
See my complete profile
Name: AKA
Home: Toronto, Ontario (in Australia until April 2009), Canada
Archive
November 2004December 2004
January 2005
February 2005
March 2005
April 2005
May 2005
July 2005
August 2005
September 2005
October 2005
November 2005
December 2005
January 2006
February 2006
March 2006
April 2006
May 2006
June 2006
July 2006
August 2006
September 2006
October 2006
November 2006
December 2006
January 2007
February 2007
March 2007
April 2007
May 2007
June 2007
July 2007
August 2007
September 2007
October 2007
Changing the World
Buttons
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 2.5 Canada License.
Saturday, November 25, 2006
One of the (few) good things about getting older is that you inch closer to understanding who you are. The ultimate "who am I?" question plagues even the most diluted of minds. I had a mini breakthrough recently in cracking this question. It wasn't anything major - the clouds in the sky didn't part to make way for rays of sunlight to shine on me alone, nor were there trumpets of any kind. Though it would have been nice.
My revolutionary scope into the world found that only the very fortunate in this life will be able to succeed in following their dreams. Most are bogged down with the responsibilities and realities of life that they are obliged to divert from what they want, to what is most feasible. Some people give up before trying and some begin their attempt, but because of some X factor, have to jump ship. I fall into the former category.
Always being the good, obedient daughter that I still am, I gave up pining to be a journalist when I was 12 when my parents said that it wasn't suitable for a girl in my position to have to travel so much for her work, and wouldn't I be better off becoming a doctor? It offered more stability along with prestige. I rebelled for a little bit, not quite understanding why I was being pushed away from what I wanted. But eventually, I gave in and started telling myself I'd be a doctor until it became what I wanted.
Don't misunderstand me - I love my parents something fierce. They've always supported getting a higher education and having my own career. I know some South Asian families that had been searching for a prospective husband for their daughters since they were in the middle of their high school years. My parents have also always let me be stubborn and argue and talk back more than I think was appropriate, now that I look back. It's like they were proud to see me have my own opinions and let me go on saying what I wanted.
But, at the same time, their own social values and beliefs taught them that as a Muslim South-Asian girl, I had limits. I don't blame them for this. I'm the luckiest girl to have such wonderful people to call my own parents. These ideals were imbedded in their minds as children because that's the society they grew up in in India. No one thought the other way because there was no other way. Being brought up in Canada while having the values of an Indian-Muslim home brought a lot of confusion and frustration. Why was my brother was allowed to stay out late and not me? Why could he do whatever he wanted with his life, marry late and it would be ok, while I was given a predetermined list of vocations along with a expiration date to my singlehood?
It's like accepting Santa Claus as a part of the birth of Jesus - you don't question it or fight it. Just take the candy canes he hands out, pass by the tiny elves adorned in green and red, and weave your way through the crowded shopping malls.
Medical school didn't work out because it unfortunately took me until the 2nd year of university to understand my loathing for chemistry, cell biology, physics and calculus (to the point that I had a dream I was writing an endless calculus exam alone in an exam hall and couldn't leave until I got every anwer correct) - all which you need to make it into med school.
And the rest is history. Again, don't misconstrue what I'm saying to think I'm dropping out of law school. I'm really enjoying classes and love the material and I'm proving to adapt well to everything. But I still wonder if I'd be better at something I've wanted more. Maybe I'd end up just finding work as a writer for the small local city newspaper, reporting on the Christmas parade that happened down Main Street over the weekend. Or, I'd be next in line to replace Diane Sawyer, though I'd be terrified of the camera, so I'd settle for being Editor of a major paper like the Toronto Star, or New York Times (I could really get used to bossing around people as a part of my job description...).
How many engineers, doctors and who-knows-what are out there doing something they were pressured into doing? I wonder what people really want out of their own lives, but the sad truth is people aren't as honest as they should be in life. There's nothing wrong in admitting you failed, or changed your mind. Though once you're past the point of no return, you can't bear the thought of the probing questions if you decide to drop out:
Person 1: "Umm yeah, I left med school because it just wasn't for me".
Person 2 (thinking): "Yeah sure buddy, you so got kicked out didn't you?! Who leaves med school by choice?"
But I guess we never know anything do we? We shake the dice, pray to God we get our lucky number and make our move from there on. There's no way to go back and change mistakes and decisions. We have to plow ahead and work through it all and see where we end up.
I also wanted to be a pilot, but even I wouldn't want to be in a plane that I was operating...
My revolutionary scope into the world found that only the very fortunate in this life will be able to succeed in following their dreams. Most are bogged down with the responsibilities and realities of life that they are obliged to divert from what they want, to what is most feasible. Some people give up before trying and some begin their attempt, but because of some X factor, have to jump ship. I fall into the former category.
Always being the good, obedient daughter that I still am, I gave up pining to be a journalist when I was 12 when my parents said that it wasn't suitable for a girl in my position to have to travel so much for her work, and wouldn't I be better off becoming a doctor? It offered more stability along with prestige. I rebelled for a little bit, not quite understanding why I was being pushed away from what I wanted. But eventually, I gave in and started telling myself I'd be a doctor until it became what I wanted.
Don't misunderstand me - I love my parents something fierce. They've always supported getting a higher education and having my own career. I know some South Asian families that had been searching for a prospective husband for their daughters since they were in the middle of their high school years. My parents have also always let me be stubborn and argue and talk back more than I think was appropriate, now that I look back. It's like they were proud to see me have my own opinions and let me go on saying what I wanted.
But, at the same time, their own social values and beliefs taught them that as a Muslim South-Asian girl, I had limits. I don't blame them for this. I'm the luckiest girl to have such wonderful people to call my own parents. These ideals were imbedded in their minds as children because that's the society they grew up in in India. No one thought the other way because there was no other way. Being brought up in Canada while having the values of an Indian-Muslim home brought a lot of confusion and frustration. Why was my brother was allowed to stay out late and not me? Why could he do whatever he wanted with his life, marry late and it would be ok, while I was given a predetermined list of vocations along with a expiration date to my singlehood?
It's like accepting Santa Claus as a part of the birth of Jesus - you don't question it or fight it. Just take the candy canes he hands out, pass by the tiny elves adorned in green and red, and weave your way through the crowded shopping malls.
Medical school didn't work out because it unfortunately took me until the 2nd year of university to understand my loathing for chemistry, cell biology, physics and calculus (to the point that I had a dream I was writing an endless calculus exam alone in an exam hall and couldn't leave until I got every anwer correct) - all which you need to make it into med school.
**********************
*flashback* Dec 2002: Well now that I've dropped my Life Sciences classes, what do I do? Who will I be? Try the journalist thing again - nope, I know what the response will be to that. Photojournalist? No they'll think I want to photograph weddings. Psychiatrist? I've always wanted to do that too. Nope, they don't want me dealing with "crazy" people...think I'll become crazy too. Psycologist? I wanted to do that badly too. I'm a great listener and advice-giver and I like helping people. No...more crazy people. Well...there's law. I've always held a big interest in it, I'm good at analyzing, making arguments, and um...fibbing. Sounds good - respectable, no travel, time to have a family. Ok - here we go. **********************
And the rest is history. Again, don't misconstrue what I'm saying to think I'm dropping out of law school. I'm really enjoying classes and love the material and I'm proving to adapt well to everything. But I still wonder if I'd be better at something I've wanted more. Maybe I'd end up just finding work as a writer for the small local city newspaper, reporting on the Christmas parade that happened down Main Street over the weekend. Or, I'd be next in line to replace Diane Sawyer, though I'd be terrified of the camera, so I'd settle for being Editor of a major paper like the Toronto Star, or New York Times (I could really get used to bossing around people as a part of my job description...).
How many engineers, doctors and who-knows-what are out there doing something they were pressured into doing? I wonder what people really want out of their own lives, but the sad truth is people aren't as honest as they should be in life. There's nothing wrong in admitting you failed, or changed your mind. Though once you're past the point of no return, you can't bear the thought of the probing questions if you decide to drop out:
Person 1: "Umm yeah, I left med school because it just wasn't for me".
Person 2 (thinking): "Yeah sure buddy, you so got kicked out didn't you?! Who leaves med school by choice?"
But I guess we never know anything do we? We shake the dice, pray to God we get our lucky number and make our move from there on. There's no way to go back and change mistakes and decisions. We have to plow ahead and work through it all and see where we end up.
I also wanted to be a pilot, but even I wouldn't want to be in a plane that I was operating...
4 Comments:
Blogs of Note
Book Shelf
But if we're fortunate we love where we end up and the journey it took to get there. Nothing is coincidence :)
Hana