April 7, 2006

Looking back at my life over the last three years, I can't help but feel extremely accomplished. It's ironic since I came to this conclusion only after formulating an interview answer to the question: "Why have you chosen to work primarily in non-profits?" PS. I think about this stuff in my sleep. I won't re-hash my very professional answer, but I will launch into a discussion of it.

When I first came to Cal, I remember wanting to take all the right steps. In the first place, this meant getting to Haas and in the second, enhancing my Haas education with something equally impressive. Although I am sure my mind wandered to all the far corners of academic majors, what I remember most clearly is wanting to pursue a degree in Political Economy. I reasoned that 1) A lot of classes overlapped and 2) It would complement my Business degree well. I did love the one upper-div PEIS class that I took and moreover, I liked the prerequisite courses too. However, that was only a sidenote because passion and love were never motivations in my life up to this point. Growing up in my parental bubble, I had only learned how to make the safe choices, the right choices. After awhile, I forgot what it was that I loved because I was never taught that love was important. I could only grasp that my ability to succeed correlated with what I wanted to do. Hence, if I did well in science, I could probably be happy as a doctor, etc.

It takes long, hard thought to realize how deeply ingrained the things your parents teach you are. The mind has wonderful defense mechanisms. I never wanted to feel sorry for myself because I didn't have the conviction to follow my heart and do something I love. Therefore, I rationalized that I was easily infatuated and could grow to love a number of things. I was never an active participant in my own life. I let the course of events push me towards a natural ending and rationalized that it was an ending that I could be contented with.

Even when I had decided to become a business major, I remember my mom telling me that I was Asian and I was a woman and that I would face adversity in my climb to the top. She spoke this ungrounded and had later changed her mind when one of her friends convinced her otherwise. If I ever failed to do anything, it would be that I could never convince my parents that I know what I'm doing. Up until I had been away from home for some time, I didn't feel like I could ever make them really proud. Looking back on those years, I can only remember being told that I couldn't do this or that or that I needed to do something or rather. Far from being a sob story, I think this is the reality for most Asian-American kids.

But maybe it just was that I was never quite proud enough of myself. Getting straight A's and doing well in school have never been a weakness of mine. It comes easily and it comes even when I stop attending class for months at a time. If you don't see the commendable things in yourself, it is hard to recognize the compliments from others. A compliment to one's attractiveness doesn't speak worlds about anything of substance--for me, academic performance follows the same line of reasoning.

I remember deciding on an English minor and thinking that I do this, because I love it. I do it because it challenges me to work above my natural ability. It adds value to my education and pushes me to think beyond my limits. I can only come to the same conclusion when I get to thinking about every other decision I've been making as of late.

I am currently holding down three jobs as a:
1. Princeton Review Substitute
2. Personal Assistant
3. Program Assistant at Cal-Asia

I feel fortunate to be able to claim that I love each and every one of these jobs. Around my sophomore year, I remember being worried that my many years of experience in education was not beneficial to my business career. For a long time, I've been working in the industry because I was qualified to do so. Everyone knows that I've never been a fan of children and I've always felt a bit awkward around them. I tutored Freshman year because it was good money, good hours, and easy work. Come sophomore year, I decided that I needed more structure and to be in an environment where I could learn. Coming to EAOP really exposed me to a side of education that I hadn't known existed. The year-long commitment didn't help me to become a better teacher as I had hoped [I never realized that teaching was a useful tool--I just thought if I was gonna do it at all, I wanted to do it right], but it did bring me one step closer to being impassioned about something.

My kids at tutoring and EAOP were always so involved in their communities. I thought that these kids really had their heads on straight because they knew how hard applying to college had become. After speaking with them, moreso, I started to learn that these were communities they were really proud of being a part of. Maybe its just a natural evolution of getting older, but their actions forced me to reassess my role in the greater Vietnamese community. I've never identified with Vietnamese culture in any way, but I did want to gain a greater understanding. I recognized that my ability to speak Vietnamese could really be of worth in some way, shape, or form. It was at this point that I decided to take on a fully translated Vietnamese college night. This was the first time I ever did anything extracurricular that was of worth to me.

After coming back from Hong Kong, I decided to "get a real job" and stay out of education. Lo and behold, I find myself falling back into yet another position that pays well that I am qualified for. However, when I was looking for jobs, I did notice a new pattern. Of all the education positions I found, I only considered the ones that paid lucratively. At this point, I had tired to tutoring so much that I was only willing to do it if I was getting compensated above my disdain. What really caught my eye, at the time, was the PR Site Director position because 1) it sounded impressive and would look good on a resume and 2) it seemed like it would be challenging. I prepared a "how to make a pb & j sandwich" speech and landed the position.

I still wasn't sure what I had gotten myself into, but quickly realized that the role I had envisioned was pretty marginal: they were pretty much looking for me to maintain attendance, which is a less than glamourous job. However, the previous SD had mentioned that she wished she could have spent more time coaching the instructors and so I took it upon myself to embark on the task.
So you have to picture it. There's me, always dressed professionally, at work on time, and working very hard to make myself worthy of the role. In front of me, are five instructors who all are either married or engaged, have their teaching credentials, and are working towards Masters. There's me, who tells them that I am currently studying business at Cal [not specifying whether I'm an MBA or undergrad], who has never taught in a classroom context, and who doesn't even like kids. There's them, who have been working at the program for two months already. There's me, who comes in and tells them where they need to improve after having been there only one week and with only one month to go.


I don't think I've ever felt so daunted. I'll spare the details, but only say that I was really proud of what I was able to accomplish within those few weeks.

And now here I am, without a stable revenue stream. I get paid pretty well as a personal assistant, but the work is sporadic. If you wonder, I pretty much just research random things on the internet and make use of the immense amounts of time that I already waste away at the computer. I come into the Cal-Asia office for ten hours a week and often work on the project while I'm at home--I even work on it on vacation. And guess what? I don't get paid for it and I'd come back to work next year in a heart beat.

For profit or not-for-profit once meant to me bitch work or actually getting to do something. I vividly remember my market research interview and being told that "detail-oriented" translates into looking at a spreadsheet of numbers and making sure its correct with the Excel file. You could never pay me enough to do that. When I rethink the situation, what it boiled down to was respect. After my time spent interviewing this semester, I can still remember the faces of those people who spoke to me like no you can't. Of course I don't expect to be able to operate at the level of someone who has been in the business for the last 20 years. I do, however, want to be respected for the things I have done and for the things to come. Perhaps, though, respect is something that cannot be earned at the interview table.

Jeremy is a great boss. She is very saavy about what she does at Cal-Asia and is good at motivating unpaid interns. She is constantly putting my name out to the Board of Directors and introducing me to this executive and the next. However, I never cared for the recognition and status--I've long ago learned to value myself and from then on, never needed anyone to validate that. I am, however, greatly indebted by Jeremy's respect. She constantly asks me for my opinion and explicitly once told me that she really wanted to know what I thought because she respected my opinions. The comment really struck me because maybe I believed I was just a pawn in the equation. Although I've never needed the recognition, it feels good to be validated in knowing that I do add a layer to the mix that is dynamic. Being at Cal-Asia has taught me a thing or two about web design, but above that, it gives me the confidence to make recommendations good or bad and to learn from those. Did I mention that they ordered me a box of business cards? That was a big plus too.

Looking back three years ago, I see myself as a product of my environment and how I've grown to shape that environment. It is possible that I've run into a series of fortuitous events, but they could have only come along because I had the courage to take a step in an uncertain direction and the confidence that I could shape that wrong direction into something that was right for me.

And you ask, how did I find the courage to do all of this? As cheesy and cliche as it may be, I think the answer may lie in falling in love. Love was something very unfathomable to me in high school and although I've been throwing the word around since the 9th grade, I don't think it really hit me till college. I don't want to get too sentimental about it, but there's something about truly being in love that makes you feel that nothing else matters. Not that it forces you to disregard all responsibility, but that it reminds you to never do anything you don't love. As fickle as I've been in relationships, there was a time when no other boy could catch my eye or sway my intention. I loved whole-heartedly and with a single intention. And at the same time, I did well in all other facets of my life.

When you are able to feel something like that, it makes you never want to do something you do not love. Anything you don't love, is lesser by comparison. If one thing hasn't changed, it is that I have never allowed myself to settle for less. When I'm in that mode, there is no words to afford for my happiness and I now know that I deserve nothing less.

Which goes to say that I've only wanted the same for all of the people I am close to. I have been very fortunate because I have never had to worry about money. My family is far from affluent, but they do make sure that their only daughter is well taken care of. When I look at my friends, it's easy for me to think that they have sold out on themselves because I've always felt they were destined for more. If I could make one wish for them, I would wish that they saw the things I saw and that they could believe in them too. I know that everyone will find happiness, but I dont want to settle for less--you only deserve the best-and I mean it.

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There's a lot going on in life right now and with so much positive, there is just no room for drama.