For me, realizing that I wanted to pursue an English degree felt like an epiphany. At the beginning of my senior year of high school, only one thought constantly ran through everyone’s minds: “What should I major in during college?” The high school counselors didn’t do a good job preparing us to make that decision. I felt lost as I fumbled around with college applications and flyers, thinking desperately about how I could pursue a major where both my passions and skills intersected. As one of the quote-on-quote “gifted” kids in high school who everyone lauded for being smart in all subjects, I didn’t feel gifted or like I gravitated towards any major.
As one of the “special” ones, I didn’t feel very special at all.
Then, during college applications season when I began writing and editing an essay for an English class, I realized that I really loved writing. I loved weaving words into something creative that people could find enjoyment and inspiration in. Telling stories on paper allowed me to express my voice in a way I couldn’t out loud. I loved the constant internal reflection through editing other people’s works and receiving their thoughts on my own writing. I loved knowing that my written words meant something, that other people read them and found something to think about afterwards. In hindsight, my writing awards from elementary school probably foreshadowed this groundbreaking realization of mine. Yet it came at me out of left field anyway.
Okay, so the English major created the perfect opportunity for me to pursue writing. I found my major! I could finally answer the question, “What should I major in during college?” Unfortunately, the hardest questions to answer came hurtling at me afterwards, faster than I ever predicted.
Telling my parents did not go well.
When I told my parents at the dinner table, the silence afterwards felt so, so loud. At first, I didn’t understand the looks that my parents gave each other with raised eyebrows and twisted lips. Had I said something wrong? I didn’t need to wonder for long, because after dinner, they pulled me aside for a grueling interrogation that lasted for 45 minutes. Ultimately, those 45 minutes introduced me to the greatest struggle of choosing the English major. They pelted me with questions that as a high schooler just figuring things out, I felt nowhere near equipped to answer.
“What are you going to do with that? Don’t you already know how to speak English? Why aren’t you studying something like biology to do medicine? What do you mean, you love to write? Choose something more practical that will pay the bills,” my parents insisted.
Ah,…yes. How did I forget? Had I really thought that my traditional Asian parents who expected me to become a doctor would ever approve my decision? When I told my classmates, they gave me similar strange looks and questions. The strangers on Quora, who always treat their own words as gospel, didn’t help either. In a world where STEM runs our world of capitalism and innovation, majoring in the humanities looked majorly imprudent to my parents. Who would pay me to write? In my eyes, I chose a fulfilling path of study. In my parents’ eyes, I chose a path straight to homelessness. Sitting at the table that night, I felt the disappointment of not being understood wash over me like the ocean underneath the silent, oppressive sky.
So, what could I do?
I needed to answer Shakespeare’s age-old question: to be, or not to be an English major? In truth, that conversation didn’t just introduce the question, it also gave me my answer. Seeing their disappointed looks, I felt more motivated than ever to prove them wrong. I saw my path in front of me and despite all the uncertainty, I didn’t want to turn back. How could I just give up at the drop of a hat when I knew the potential to succeed? And so, going against my parents’ word, I turned in all my college applications with my mind set on pursuing my passion in writing. People can call me a stubborn mule. I don’t care.
Don’t get me wrong, I understood where my parents came from. As the child of Vietnamese immigrants who lived a life of poverty before coming to the United States, I understood why they prioritized my financial security over all else and saw STEM as the best way of securing that. However, I pushed through their criticism because I knew my worth. I knew the value of writing in the market: the central role of storytelling in the entertainment industry and the practical corporate skill of writing with accurate concision. I knew that I could thrive in the humanities if I went for my passions full force. I advocated for my humanities degree because I knew practically and emotionally that my path led to a future just as valid as everyone else’s.
Honestly? I don’t regret my decision.
Today, I’m happy to tell you that I’m a second-year English major at UCLA. With my love for writing, I found opportunities to make my words count. I co-host community writing sessions at MindTerra, a female-led mental health organization and I write for College Magazine. Through these experiences, I make an impact with initiatives that I’m passionate about. I get to work on fulfilling projects that I can proudly share with others. Most importantly, I get to meet some of the kindest, most creative storytellers and friends across the world. All these amazing opportunities came to me because I found the best path for me and didn’t tread the path another person walked on.
Advocating for myself as an English major continues to rage as one of my biggest pain points. For the longest time after I started college, my parents stopped at nothing to get me to change my mind. As if she didn’t know what I was actually majoring in, my mom asked me if I was majoring in biology. When I answered no, she tried to guilt trip me into considering it. At one point, my dad got so desperate that he told me to work at the DMV instead. Don’t even get me started on the time my aunt tried to convert me to accounting and my mom had mockingly said to her “she wants to study what she likes.” God forbid I should want an enjoyable career, right?
Over time, my parents came around. Especially after I got my first part-time job, they stopped constantly attacking my path of study. I know the fight doesn’t stop here though. They still don’t fully understand my choices. After graduation, I’ll truly need to prove the worth of my decision. Yet with all of the amazing people I met, all of the fulfilling projects I worked on and all of the valuable lessons I learned about myself and the world around me, I feel like everything will turn out okay.
