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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wuss, crying to a girl but sometimes, things are so bad that you just can't help it. “ I know what<br />
you're going through, Johnson. If it makes you feel any better, I cried last week when my mom<br />
told me that I would end up being a prostitute if I didn't <strong>get</strong> into medical school.”<br />
“ She <strong>really</strong> said that to you? ” I ask shockingly. Asian parents love to use<br />
fearmongering tactics, like Emilie's mom, even though they <strong>really</strong> <strong>do</strong>n't work and in the end,<br />
ultimately hurt everyone involved.<br />
“ Yeah. Can you believe it? My own mom saying stuff like that. The things that they'll<br />
say just to <strong>get</strong> you to listen to them. It's not like I wasn't already planning to go to medical<br />
school. She just wanted to reinforce the idea, so that there's no chance of me changing my<br />
mind. But I <strong>do</strong>n't let her <strong>get</strong> to me. I know she means well. And we both know that our parents<br />
care about us, but they just...have the worst way of showing it. So <strong>do</strong>n't worry, once we<br />
graduate, we'll be off somewhere else and we can start living our own lives.”<br />
“ You're right, Emilie. I'm sorry. You must think I'm such a p*ssy for crying about this. ”<br />
“ Haha. Not at all. I think you're very sweet. In fact, you want to know something? I've<br />
always had a crush on you, even all the way back in middle school. I've always known that<br />
there's something about you that makes you different from all the other Asian guys. Don't <strong>get</strong><br />
mad but just like you crying right now. I find it honest and refreshing, believe it or not. Other<br />
Asian guys wouldn't have the courage to cry, not even the courage to share their feelings.”<br />
“ I <strong>do</strong>n't know what to say. ” I wipe away my tears and put the biggest smile on my face.<br />
“ You <strong>do</strong>n't need to say anything. I think tonight's been pretty eventful for the both of us.<br />
Let's just go inside and <strong>get</strong> you cleaned up.”<br />
Emilie opens the <strong>do</strong>or to <strong>get</strong> out of the car and then I follow, <strong>get</strong>ting out from my side.<br />
The only light on is the front porch light, since her parents are out of town and her little sister<br />
is spending the night at a friend's house. Emilie and I at her home alone— what can two<br />
young, vibrant and ener<strong>get</strong>ic adults possibly <strong>do</strong>?<br />
As I enter her house— my shoes already off of course— I can see that the inside looks<br />
just like Auntie and Oldest Auntie's, traditional and passé with antiquated Oriental furniture,<br />
lanterns hanging from the ceiling, red New Year couplets covering the walls below and wall<br />
scrolls that are almost identical in appearance— this interior decorator must be making a<br />
fortune!<br />
I sit <strong>do</strong>wn on the living room couch and grab a couple of tissues from the box of<br />
Kleenex on the glass coffee table. I notice a picture of her family in a large, gold garland
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