Because he emigrated from China, my dad always expects me to work hard and perform well in school. “You are smart. But being smart is not going to help you at all if you don’t study hard,” my dad was always telling me, but I never believed him. I had always thought that being smart was the key to success in every difficult class. However, everything changed at my first quarter of college life.
It was an ordinary day, and the sun was bright and warm. I walked slowly into my math32b discussion session. Our TA, Andrew, walked in with a stack of paper in his hands. He said seriously, “Well, these are the midterms you took last Monday. Now I will pass them out to you.” I sat in my seat waiting anxiously until I heard my name. I walked slowly to the TA and took the test from his hand. I thought to myself, “An A please; I am expecting it.” Flipping the test over, I saw a big, red fraction 49/100, a grade that would be unacceptable to my strict Asian parents.
As I stared at the ugly red fraction, I wondered, “How I could have done so badly on this midterm? Was it hard or did I not study enough? Wait a minute. Did I ever study for this midterm?” I remembered what I had thought the night before the midterm: “The midterm tomorrow should be a piece of cake, what we learned in class was just a review for me. Why should I waste my time doing those meaningless practices? ”
Then why did I get such a low grade?
This question kept running through my mind over and over again. Suddenly, I remembered what my dad was always telling me. As I thought, I gradually understood the importance of my dad’s words.
Why do I do what I do? Because I want my parents to be proud of me. I do not want to see my parents’ disappointed expressions anymore when I told them that I got a C on my math midterm. I am trying my best to meet my parents’ expectations even though those might be hard.
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