Why do Asians really get straight A's? - Project Gutenberg Consortia ...
Why do Asians really get straight A's? - Project Gutenberg Consortia ...
Why do Asians really get straight A's? - Project Gutenberg Consortia ...
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okay, maybe that's a bit extreme. But it's not like I have a secret life outside of UCI, like being<br />
an agent for the FBI or running tactical reconnaissance missions for Special Ops; it's just<br />
simply a matter of respect. I <strong>do</strong>n't go through their mail because I respect their privacy so they<br />
should reciprocate as well. Too bad Asian parents <strong>do</strong>n't know what this word means, literally<br />
and figuratively.<br />
My enjoyment of silence comes to a halt as I hear the piano playing from the living<br />
room, which means that Jordan's back home, probably practicing to become an acclaimed<br />
concert pianist just so that she can prove how much better she is than me— not that it's <strong>really</strong><br />
all that hard. Many Asian kids have spent countless hours at the piano, like Jordan and me.<br />
My parents forced me to play the piano since I was in elementary school, telling me that I<br />
would be successful in life if I played well. It's interesting how they started making me play the<br />
piano per the advice of one of their Asian friends. I'm sure that Asian friend advised, “ Playing<br />
the piano looks good on the resume, for a good-paying job. ” It's sad that Asian parents force<br />
their kids to play the piano— or any instrument for that matter— not for the love and<br />
appreciation of music, but just as a way to <strong>get</strong> ahead since it looks good on your resume. I<br />
personally love playing the piano, from classical to contemporary, for the pure inspiration of<br />
music. I resent my parents butchering this with their lust for “ a good-paying job. ”<br />
“ Jordan! Johnson! Come here! ” I hear Mommy crying from upstairs. Jordan and I rush<br />
up to my parents' bedroom. Mommy is sitting on the bed, while talking on the phone, her eyes<br />
filled with tears, yet, none of them falling. She raises her arm, beckoning us over and mutters,<br />
“ Grand Ma pass away this morning. ”