The Alarming Lack of Filial Piety

When I was in third grade, I went over to my friend’s house for the first time, and her mom told me to call her by her first name. As a person who has grown up respecting adults, I found this odd. Eventually, by fifth grade, I was calling her what she wanted me to, but it still felt weird on my tongue. I went around calling parents by their last names, and they all thought that I was a perfectly well-mannered child.

When I got to ninth grade, no longer close friends with this person, I discovered that most of the people in my grade had no idea what the words filial piety meant. We learned it as if it was a vocabulary word in school, something foreign and something that we could forget once we passed the unit on ancient China. But they are so wrong. They are so so wrong.

In China, a great insult is to say that your parents didn’t raise you well. In America, this might be mildly offensive, but we view ourselves as separate from our parents. We didn’t chose them, we have no choice. It doesn’t matter. But, there are stories of Asian children who respect their stepmothers even when they starved and froze. They had no choice of stepmother, but they acknowledge that they are elders and that they must be respected. (As a result, in one of the stories, the boy is recognized by the Emperor and when he dies, the boy becomes the Emperor.)

Maybe it’s just a phase, a normal part of growing up in America, but I would like to change that. Sure, when we get to college, we understand the pains of taking care of ourselves and our children, but why not recognize that as teenagers? Why not appreciate our parents, who have spent long, sleepless nights letting us suck on their breasts, now? Why wait?

I understand that some people will never understand their parent’s sacrifice, and some might not realize it until it’s too late. In that case, do what the Chinese do- mourn for three years, repent, and move on.

How Snow Unifies Families

On the east coast, it snowed really hard on Saturday, and on Sunday, we spent the entire day shoveling it. But something rather personal happened on Friday- my brother and my dad got in a fight again. But by Sunday, they were totally fine.

Call it a case of teenage angst, or denounce it as a phase, but I believe that the snow brought them together. How?

Well first, snow reduces travel ability. So, my brother wasn’t able to escape to his friend’s house or to the gym if he was angry at our dad. All he could do was head upstairs where our dad could still reach him, making it hard to keep grudges.

Another thing that they did together was shovel the snow. My dad and my brother, as the “men” of the family (My mom and I are fully capable of shoveling, but someone needs to watch the baby), had to work together to free our two cars. And our driveway. And the sidewalk.

Another point includes the pride that you feel when you finish shoveling. It’s amazing when you, with that puny shovel of yours, can liberate your means of travel. Therefore, when you share this feeling with someone, you are undoubtedly going to grow closer.

(Another point: my baby brother really loves watching them shovel the snow. That joy of giving happiness to someone else also contributed to resolving their dilemma.)

In conclusion, when you are feuding with anyone and there’s a snowstorm coming your way, be prepared to make up.

A Teenage Grandmother

Sometimes, for whatever reason, babies are raised by more than their two parents. Because of this, children end up becoming spoiled with love and attention.

About two years ago, my mother gave birth again, therefore, I have a brother that I’m much older than. It may seem a little odd for people that aren’t familiar with this type of sibling arrangement, but it has worked out pleasantly for my mother and for me. My mother gets the benefit of a live-in babysitter, and I get the experience of handling a baby. It makes me laugh to think that I have more childcare experience than my 18 year old cousin, who was scared to hold my brother.

The main reason that I recognize myself his grandmother instead of his mother is the amount of time I spend with him. Mothers have to deal with their children throughout the night, waking up constantly to feed them and/or play with them. As a teenager, I don’t have that responsibility. I’m not even disturbed by his cries because I sleep on a different floor than he does. In addition to this, I am also able to hand him off to my dad or my mom when I have an excess of homework. Mothers don’t have that option. (They could hire a babysitter, but for the night?)

Another major perk is that I still get the same affection from him. Sometimes, because I’m home more often, he favors me over my dad (or maybe it’s just that I have the milk that he wants ^_^). He affectionately calls me when he wakes up from naps(“姐姐!” he screams as I write this, meaning older sister in chinese), learns the words that I teach him, and accepts that I’m putting him to sleep for this nap.

I could just be romanticizing motherhood, or even grand-motherhood, but I do find pleasures in it. Or, these could be the things that mothers look forward to when their children have children. I guess I’m lucky that way.

(I realize now how much of a “Look at me, I’m so special!” kind of blog post this is, so I apologize. I don’t mean to be arrogant.)

The Ethics of Buying Music

Music is something that flows through your veins like a sugary drink without the artificial flavors. As I pass by people walking on the streets of Manhatten, I have counted the majority of them wearing earphones or headphones. The little nubs of white are one of the most noticeable staples of American streets and schools. In my school, people are constantly wired, receiving melodies and harmonies personalized for their ears. But some find this music illegally, which I find an interesting practice.

One of the people I can single out for doing this is my brother. He always has his phone syncing to the computer so he can transfer his most recent files for later listening. He downloads it from the youtube-to-mp3 website, and it’s free, so my mom doesn’t see anything wrong in it. I don’t either, but I’d rather not.

I am at the other side of the spectrum- on my apple devices, I have bought about $100 worth of music (not a lot compared to one of my other friends). Although we are not poor in any aspect, my brother sometimes condemns me for this. “Why do you spend money when you could just get those songs for free?” is one of his frequent complaints. I shrug my shoulders and continue on my way.

Recently, I’ve gotten into the practice of not taking earbuds with me at all. I leave them unplugged if I do, and instead, I hum. It’s one of those pleasures that we deny ourselves nowadays, one of those things we did before we had walkmans or smartphones. I’ve taken to humming again, humming when I walk to school, humming when I walk down the hallways, or humming when I sit in the car. It’s quite relaxing, actually. Making music with your throat as you leave mistakes and intonation behind to focus more on the feeling the music gives you.

Although I doubt that my brother will start humming instead of downloading music, I encourage you to do so. It might mean the start of a new habit, and could be annoying to your family members, but humming will capture the essence of the music you love and reduce the need for music to constantly bombard our ears.

A Fire-less Fireside Talk on Materialism

Before winter break, after an event at our high school, my friends and I started talking. After a while, a poster on the wall brought up a new topic. “Did you hear that Dominic started dating Meagan? Yeah, I know, how can one fall so low?” (Hypothetical names, so my classmates don’t sue me.) At the time, I didn’t think anything about it, and laughed along uneasily, as usual. But now, I am saddened and a little bit disgusted. (I don’t blame my friends, let’s make that clear. It’s obviously a product of the society that they’ve been born into, and they haven’t met the circumstances yet to overcome it. They will eventually).

Now, as my fingers are adjusting to the heat of my house, I come with a renewed opinion on the topic. I just came back from the mall, and I am struck by how much our opinions are based on looks and how much effort people put into their appearance. I am wearing a completely black hoodie and completely black pants without much texture, so you can imagine the fashion disaster I am right now. But I’m actually not a disaster- I’m a focused girl with white earbuds and a solid idea in my head.

Psychology tells us that first impressions are formed within a matter of seconds, or even nanoseconds. Because of this, people are constantly obsessed with how they look. What if you meet someone that could be your soulmate, but you are underdressed and he or she disregards you? It’s sad to think about, but this is how we are hardwired. Getting rid of this type of thinking would require an intense change in thinking, which many people aren’t up to.

So, while this was supposed to be a rant about how materialistic our society is, instead, I find myself praising something else- the Internet.

I know, I know, how biased of me, a resident of the internet, of course I’ll admire it. But listen- the internet is a place where we don’t have to share how we look. You could, and many people do, but you don’t have to, and people can judge you based on your content, your words. Which is what you’re doing right now. Judging me based on my words.

So, even though the internet has its faults, this is one of its good parts. I’m not suggesting that you spend all of your time on the internet, but instead, maybe adapt an internet-type perspective when dealing with real life. For people like me. Thanks.

(Sorry for a rambling post, I had an unproductive winter break.)

(Also, happy new year!)