Sienna Chien, Grade 12
UWC Robert Bosch
To be honest, this would be my first English publication.
In the three years of high school, I have never written an article. But I gloated my passion for journalism to everyone around me with my heart and soul.
When I saw United Worldwide’s email for recruitment, for the first time in my life, I felt every single hair on my body stood straight up as goosebumps came over me, a rush of serendipity in the color of bright orange flushed from the top of my head down to my bottom of my toe.
This is the first piece I am writing.
Because I never thought I had enough, enough to be what it takes to be someone.
「人外有人、天外有天」, this mandarin proverb followed me through my childhood and eventually, through my heart. It means that no matter how great you are, there will always be someone better than you. Ouch.
But it was true. I pursued hobbies ranging from basketball to figure skating and debate to melodic rap, and no matter where I went and how hard I tried, there was always someone better, always someone to look up to, and always someone behind me asking why I wasn’t better.
I remember coming back from school with my 98 percent English exam paper hidden and squashed down to the depth of my school bag. She went through my bag because she knew it. She knew that I was ashamed. A huge ball of guilt came up from my uneasy stomach and stuck in my throat. I tried explaining that I was the best in class, that it was only a mistake that I’ll never make again. But she look me in the eye, right into me, and said, “There would always be someone better.”
And I cried.
Yes. Asian parenting maybe? But she did it for me, and I am grateful to be where I am today because of her.
The problem is that I internalized it. I knew some things were structural such as money, gender, or race, and I used it to legitimize the lack of willingness to actually put myself out there. What is the point of trying if there’s just someone that’s going to make your effort look like the ant one step away from David while he was fighting Galileo. While I knew that, I also knew that I hated myself for this. I hated that I was jealous of others’ success when I knew that there was effort behind that success and that I was the one actively making the choice not to put in the same effort for my success.
I had tried writing before, and in fact, I loved it so much that I had the dream of becoming an actual writer. An unfinished draft of a parental licensed world sits at the bottom of my google document, collecting make-believe internet dust bunnies and gauging in disbelief that I have only thought of it now. The numerous writing competition websites my mom had sent me, unopened, in our chat also shaking its head and mouthing “I told you so” in a manner I could only describe as a duplicate of my mother’s.
Although I loved writing, I never really dared to become a writer. Because I never thought I had enough, enough to be what it takes to be someone.
But now I did. I do.
I feel like I have enough to be myself. To be someone like me. Because when I was looking up to the people that were always in front of me, I failed to look back and see how far I have come. And I am thankful. Thankful for the opportunity to be in UWC and for the mirror it held up for me, a mirror not only to reflect on my flaws but also to look back at my progress.
In the three years of high school, I have never written an article. But I gloated my passion for journalism to everyone around me with my heart and soul.
When I saw United Worldwide’s email for recruitment, for the first time in my life, I felt every single hair on my body stood straight up as goosebumps came over me, a rush of serendipity in the color of bright orange flushed from the top of my head down to my bottom of my toe.
This is the first piece I am writing.
Because I never thought I had enough, enough to be what it takes to be someone.
「人外有人、天外有天」, this mandarin proverb followed me through my childhood and eventually, through my heart. It means that no matter how great you are, there will always be someone better than you. Ouch.
But it was true. I pursued hobbies ranging from basketball to figure skating and debate to melodic rap, and no matter where I went and how hard I tried, there was always someone better, always someone to look up to, and always someone behind me asking why I wasn’t better.
I remember coming back from school with my 98 percent English exam paper hidden and squashed down to the depth of my school bag. She went through my bag because she knew it. She knew that I was ashamed. A huge ball of guilt came up from my uneasy stomach and stuck in my throat. I tried explaining that I was the best in class, that it was only a mistake that I’ll never make again. But she look me in the eye, right into me, and said, “There would always be someone better.”
And I cried.
Yes. Asian parenting maybe? But she did it for me, and I am grateful to be where I am today because of her.
The problem is that I internalized it. I knew some things were structural such as money, gender, or race, and I used it to legitimize the lack of willingness to actually put myself out there. What is the point of trying if there’s just someone that’s going to make your effort look like the ant one step away from David while he was fighting Galileo. While I knew that, I also knew that I hated myself for this. I hated that I was jealous of others’ success when I knew that there was effort behind that success and that I was the one actively making the choice not to put in the same effort for my success.
I had tried writing before, and in fact, I loved it so much that I had the dream of becoming an actual writer. An unfinished draft of a parental licensed world sits at the bottom of my google document, collecting make-believe internet dust bunnies and gauging in disbelief that I have only thought of it now. The numerous writing competition websites my mom had sent me, unopened, in our chat also shaking its head and mouthing “I told you so” in a manner I could only describe as a duplicate of my mother’s.
Although I loved writing, I never really dared to become a writer. Because I never thought I had enough, enough to be what it takes to be someone.
But now I did. I do.
I feel like I have enough to be myself. To be someone like me. Because when I was looking up to the people that were always in front of me, I failed to look back and see how far I have come. And I am thankful. Thankful for the opportunity to be in UWC and for the mirror it held up for me, a mirror not only to reflect on my flaws but also to look back at my progress.
www.unitedworldwide.co