College to Prove Something

Sorry for not posting in such a long time. I was thinking lately about college and why I decided to go. I will confess a sin that I made a long time ago. I was 9 years old when I took some of my mother's old checks and used them to order books through those book orders. I hid what I had done and told my parents that I was just such a great student that my teacher wanted to give me those books for free. When my parents found out, they were both angry, though my mother showed it more than my father did. My teacher was angry too, and he had a whole class meeting on check writing (he didn't tell anyone it was me, but some of the other kids had already guessed). He was one of the worst teachers I've had just because I made a mistake, an honest mistake (I thought that checks were actually free money, but I had a bad feeling about it, so I lied).

My parents were never big into college. I know that many of you are thinking, "But they're Asian! All Asians demand the best out of their children." This isn't true; it's just a stereotype. I guess that's how most Asian parents are, but not mine. My parents were angry that I wanted to go. They even told me that I wasn't allowed to apply for FAFSA (I need my parents' permission to apply for it because I don't know their social security numbers). In fact, I didn't even think I could go, no matter how much I wanted to, until my older sister started going. My mother made her work for her without pay her first year out of high school. But after a year, my sister enrolled in the local community college. Two years later, I enrolled in the same college, and I do not regret it.

I was thinking of all the things that have happened in my life, all the things that had made me feel powerless, and not able to take control of my own life, specifically my parents. I understand their protectiveness (and un-protectiveness; when my mother found out that I had talked to my bishop, home teacher, and some social workers that my father had touched me, I was punished and made to recant the story). I understand everything about my mother...or maybe almost understand all of it. I never understood my father, though.

Anyway, despite all of the situations I was put in as a child, despite the abuse and the neglect, despite my sister's betrayal, despite my 4th grade teacher that didn't think I'd amount to much, I enrolled in college because I felt that I had more people's support than the people that didn't support me. I had something to prove...to them and to myself because I didn't think I'd amount to much either. Now let's see if that's true. I believe that if I believe in myself and try my best, I think that I can do something good in this world; I think that I can leave a great legacy. My first step is to write a book, something I had always wanted to do. I want to be known as a writer that wrote about humanity, about the lives of people, real or not. I want to write stories that touch people's lives, that make them think about themselves and their lifestyles, and help them change to the people they want to be. I believe writing is a very powerful tool, and I want to use it in order to prove to myself that I am good, that I can do great things, no matter how small I am.