Things I have Learned

Troy is where my secondary education started. My family moved to Troy in 6th grade. I still remember being flustered attending a new middle school with new people, a new start. I experienced a lot of racial microaggressions and bullying at my old school. Long story short, I was genuinely happy to start over again. I knew nobody. Anxious and a little bit excited, similar to opening a new chapter from high school to college. 

I used to regret a lot of things. I regret that I purposely ended a lot of unhealthy relationships back in the city I moved away from. I regret that I didn’t embrace my culture. I regret that I didn’t stand up for myself. They made me feel so different, so aware of who I was.

As I’ve grown, I’ve realized that regret takes up too much space. Way too much space. I still struggle with moving on, but it’s better:)

In freshman year, I joined marching band. I fell in love. My parents disagreed. They thought it was too time consuming, where Friday and Saturday disappeared into melodies and harmonies. It was the first time that truly stood up for what I wanted. We fought about it, multiple times. Very heated. Screaming interchanged with draining silence. Maybe I was stubborn, but I don’t regret it. I didn’t regret it.

After 3 years of marching band, when I finally worked my way up to section leader, Covid hit. My mom is an at-risk individual. We would be playing very close to each other, without masks. The moral dilemma struck, should I continue band or should I protect my family. I quit band for my family. My parents and I didn’t fight about it this time. I cried way too much when I saw my section for the last time, these people that I’ve been with for long, my friends, the people who shared music and melody. I thought about my choice. How ironic that I finally quit. The tinges of regret seemed to climb up, but I knew now that it was unhelpful. I could continue on. No matter the choice.

So I expanded away from something that took my heart, putting my energy for something else. I taught girls how to code websites, opening their eyes to a new possibility of creativity. So giving an environment for others to learn, to create something better for them than what I had experienced, made my heart full. I saw in their faces a new light, something 9th grade Christine would’ve loved to experience. I saw the encouraging place to express anything, something 5th grade Christine would’ve loved to be surrounded by. Away from all the noise.

I’ve recently been watching a lot of Asian films and tv-shows during this very long time at home. I’ve been watching Chinese dramas with my mom, something I never used to do. Hospital Playlist, Haikyuu, Jujutsu Kaisen. I thought to myself, why didn’t I start earlier, where did the preconceived shame come from. But I realized that I harbored self-identity issues with the Asian in Asian American. They probably stem from elementary school days. I’m really glad I’ve been able to slowly move past that. 

This blog post is all over the place, I apologize.

I was writing future letters to my friends recently. Time. Time passes by so fast and so slow sometimes. At the present moment things often seem so nerve-wracking and anxiety-ridden. However, from one of my favorite songs, “I guess space and time takes violent things, angry things and makes them kind.”

And through time I’ve learnt and grown. I won’t regret through the seconds, the minutes, the hours, the days, the years. I’ll stay in the present--through the seconds, the minutes, the hours, the days, the years.

I’m grateful for everything Troy has taught me with my secondary education coming to a close.

Thank you Mrs. Knudson for being an amazing teacher and letting us write about random blog posts,

giving us some time to reflect--because time often moves too fast.