Comedy of errors

I am in secondary mode. DO NOT DISTURB. Just kidding. Sort of (I may or may not bite your head off if you interrupt my stream of consciousness).

Anyways, here's a story I remembered when asked about my most memorable travel experience (surprisingly, this is in more than secondary. I am not sure what this question helps the Adcoms gauge aside from how rich we are?). My story is not so much about the travel as much as it's about the aftermath. And note, this isn't a story unique to B-sians. Anyone can relate to the awkwardness of starting anew in an unfamiliar environment.

I still remember when I was in the sixth grade, and relatively new to the customs of the United States. My teacher offered to drop me off after music rehearsal, and as we approached her car, I instinctively sat in the back seat. It was a sign of respect. I was not her equal in age or experience. My teacher, amused by my gesture, asked teasingly, “Who do you think I am, your driver?” I was taken aback, but quickly hurried into the front seat, too embarrassed to explain my egregious error.

And when they asked me about creative endeavors, here's what I was tempted to put down:

“Being B-sian.” The title of my blog is a play on the stereotype that pervades our society regarding Asians. It’s not earth-shatteringly thought provoking (points for honesty), but the reason I blog is to chronicle my journey as a pre-medical and non-traditional student so others after me are not as confused by this process. My pearls of wisdom are what I learned from my mistakes (of which there are innumerable), and I hope those that read it (the few, the proud) learn to question the mold of a cookie-cutter pre-med.

So why didn't I? I am going to be honest. I don't want to stand out for the wrong reasons. Who knows what they'll take away from this? Maybe they'll think I am whiny. Or a wannabe rebel. But the passage does carry a grain of truth. Always be you. And you, sir, are no cookie.

"Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother" by Amy Chua

(BTW, those tigers are real)

I wrote on a frivolous topic last time (for those who missed it, here is quick summary: I posted horrifying profiles I found on relationship sites though soon I will probably succumb and join the bandwagon), and so this time I thought I would comment on a more controversial topic: parenting. I am by no means an authority on the subject (Heck, I don't even have children), but the thought has of course crossed my mind. Do I want them? And if yes, how to raise them? Mostly, after reading books like "A Stolen Life" by Jaycee Lee Dugard, how would I protect them?

I think the most important point I took from Amy Chua's book, "Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother," is there is no perfect method for parenting. What works with one child fails miserably with another, as was the case with her daughters Sophia (the goody two-shoes) and Lulu (the rebellious one). The lesson here is to recognize the individuality of every child, and feel out the child in their developmental years so you can find a parenting plan that works best.

We talk so much about collaboration in relationships, and I think a parent-child is is no different. I think at some point an honest conversation needs to be had about what the child would like, what the parent's goals are, and how to we intertwine them so the child can be both happy and successful. By honest, I don't mean the kid saying, "I want to be let loose on Facebook for ten hours," which Amy Chua rightfully gave as an example of what a typical kid would do if given the opportunity to do whatever they wished, and the parent saying, "Sure honey. Whatever you want." But I don't think every kid would want Facebook if they were exposed early on to reading, culture, art, and music. I think a lot of that comes from letting the tv babysit the child, and parents simply not having enough time. I don't criticize these parents because clothing and feeding your children is equally important, and at some point, quality time gives.

Now onto her "Chinese" model of parenting, a term which is used very loosely. I like the value of excellence she touted with her children. How she went about it seems at times sadistic and extreme, but one has to keep in mind it's a satiric memoir, not a how-to book. Yes, I buy into that argument of hers. If she wanted to talk about how her model produced perfect children, the book would just be about Sophia, who has been accepted into Harvard. But she was uncannily honest, and showed the strengths and pitfalls of the model. I do believe with hard work and self-discipline, an average individual can be successful at whatever they attempt, unless it's something that requires years to hone, an art like piano or sports like tennis (that's not to say one couldn't be good at it as a late starter; but don't expect to be a virtuoso).

I think it's remarkable how many hours she devoted to practicing with her children, and how she stayed up at night to research each and every aspect of music. For those who criticized whether her children felt the music or were just playing, just read Sophia's essay on playing Tchaikovsky's Romeo and Juliet at Carneigi Hall, and you will know music pervaded her soul, and she loved it. I think even Lulu enjoyed playing the violin, but didn't like that it wasn't her choice and that music became a chore rather than an expression of self.

The question that really struck me when reading the book was why she was so hell-bent on raising her children the Chinese way when Jed, her husband, was raised in the very opposite tradition and still became very successful and accomplished. Did she think he was the exception? I am going to e-mail Chua at some point and see if I get a response. If I do, I will post it here.

I know my high opinion of her and her book seems very odd coming from a B-sian, who Amy Chua would probably detest and cringe at the sight of, but I also think it's important to give credit where it's due. And funnily enough, I was also born in the Year of the Tiger. Now it's time to roar. Back to secondaries.

Mrs. MD Degree

Another entertaining conversation for your amusement:

Me: My dreams of marrying a doctor have been crushed. Almost none of the schools have a large percentage of Asian Indians :(
Note to those reading: I am half joking, half serious.

Friend: lol. I thought it would be better to avoid schools with lots of asians
Me: For grades purposes, yes. For Mrs. Degree purposes, no.
Friend: rofl

This brings me to the medium of marriage in our generation. You guys have EHarmony.com (or Match.com if Eharmony.com rejects you), and we have Shaadi.com. For your amusement, I have posted some comments I saw while cruising the site for entertainment (It never fails!, and yes, I recognize how suspicious this looks). I won't be so cruel as to post their actual profiles, though I suppose it wouldn't be as cruel considering it is in a public forum. Regardless, some amount of sensitivity must me maintained:

HI IM LOOKING FOR A DECENT LIFE PARTNER
Note to self: Um, that's it? I guess he has low expectations. Good for him...?

i wish to get marriage with my sister in september sam day
Note to self: Uh, what? I am praying he meant he wanted to get married on the same day as his sister because if not, this is seriously messed up, even more so than Bill Henrickson's love life in Big Love.

I am VERY health conscience.
Note to self: What? When did health become a moral obligation? I guess I should lay off the bon bons and nightly trysts with Rocky Road and Chunky Monkey.

Have you ever been arrested?
Note to self: This reminds of all the questions on SDN about gunners. Chances are, if you're posting about one, you're one. It takes one to know one.

i am very intelligent punctual sincere and responcible person and i am not saying this by myself its opinion of others
Note to self: I guess intelligence doesn't come with editing skills or humbleness?

Father a lawyer and Mother a medical doctor. Very talented family full of great energy and vigor. An outgoing bunch. One brother in the process of completing his degree in Law, and my sister has begun her Medical studies this Fall at an Ivy League university. Basically, when you look up in the sky you'll see our asses in the air because we've made it to the top.
Note to self: Because who doesn't enjoy looking at their in-laws' asses?

From the same poster as above:

One last note: I'm not as mean as I may sound in this profile. Some of you have sent me lots of hate for no particular reason. I'm very straight forward --an upfront guy. Having a high self esteem is crucial and though I'm not a vain guy all the ceilings of our home have full length mirrors installed so I can always look up to myself.

Note to self: Mean? Narcissistic? Whoever came up with those words to describe you were WAY OFF the mark.

So not all the profiles sucked and this one was pretty awesome. I included it to let you know not all guys are self-conceited bastards (or they're very good writers who can hide said conceitedness?). This one is linked since he didn't say anything God awful embarrassing or cringe worthy. You never know, you could be thanking me later.

OK so here's the deal. I don't want to be on this site and neither do you. Not because I don't want to get married but because i don't want to resort to these kind of sites. However I realized that if you keep focusing on how you meet someone you are going to miss out on some amazing people. So add me on here. Regardless if im not your type or younger or not the same caste.. bc you never know. I might not be right for you but I might know someone who is.

The truth is we all want to give ourselves a great story on how we met and so do I. But it's about time I stop focusing on the "how" and focus on the "who" because in the grand scheme of things its not the story you fall in love with, it's the person.

So I'm an architectural engineer with tons of hobbies. Each year I make a list of things I want to do this year. They might give you an insight on the kind of person i am.

Run the rocky steps. Learn archery. Ride Dune Buggies/ snowmobile. Learn to surf. Learn to snowboard. Do stand up routine at a comedy club. Learn to juggle 3 balls. (for at least 10 seconds) Bungee Jump. Learn sign language. Learn keyboards. Take an improv class. Go camping. Get into a cab and yell "Follow that cab"!" Pack my bags. Go to a train station and literally take a midnight train going anywhere". Buy a really good self help book and leave it on a train with a note that say "you were meant to find this". Visit a nursing home. Hang Glide. Buy someone a gift anonymously and never tell em who it's from. ( it may be u). Create my own special signature dish. Ride a horse ( while wearing old spice). Scuba diving. Learn to fly a kite (dude that shit is hard) Watch the top IMDB 250 and/or AFI top 100 movies. Go to the Opera or ballet. Take a vacation by myself

Now, back to secondaries (AKA staring at the computer screen blankly, praying for some inspiration).

Life's like the MCAT

To the handful of people reading this blog (I realize even this statement may be a stretch...a handful? A few? some? one?), I apologize for the radio silence. I have been pretending to work. I say pretending because I keep staring at the computer screen, utterly blank and in despair. Who is going to finish these secondaries? I am trying something very Asian (and also presumptuous I suppose) by finishing the secondaries even before my primary application is verified. For all those wondering, I finally submitted by app on June 29. It was momentous. Glorious. Just am-a...wait a minute, did I make an error? Those two seconds of awesomeness are now drowned in fear, where I even refuse to look at my app in fear that I will find an error. Yes, something is just downright messed up about this process, how it instills so much fear and terror, summed up in this wonderful gif.

Anyways, now back to the topic of the post. You may ask, how is life like the MCAT? Well, great question, because for once, I actually have the answers!

1. Somethings will just never make sense. For me, that's the PS section. What the heck does torque have to do with anything (seriously, why do we care if something is moving clockwise or counterclockwise)? Why does it matter what the rate of a reaction is? Apparently, it matters to the MCAT test makers because I had an ENTIRE PASSAGE on this! Funnily enough, I looked over this topic the night before D-Day, and decided I would not be tested on this. And so closed the book. Little did I know, an entire passage was awaiting to slaughter me the next day. I am befuddled my many such questions. These questions of course extend outside of the MCAT. Where is Prince Charming? Why is he late? What is up with the Obama administration's inability to fix all the problems of the world (like, yeah...aren't they supposed to like know how to like fix everything like ASAP)? You get the drift...somethings are just outside the realm of our understanding. I have come to the conclusion they should be left that way. A little mystery is good.

2. There's no such thing as the right answer. All you can do is pick the best one. You may think there's no difference, but there is. Think about all the tough decisions in your life. I don't think we are often contemplating whether our decision is right or wrong in the moral sense (unless you're a pedophile, in which case, you may be battling your conscience and please continue to do so and not harm ANY children of the world). It's often the gradations that kill us, the grey shades that run between the black and white. And that's Verbal in a nutshell.

3. You may be good, but there are others that are better. So most pre-meds go down the path of majoring in Bio. If you didn't, I commend you for making a sensible decision and not jumping on the bandwagon of stupidity and Type A personalities. So theoretically we should all be scoring 15s on the BS section. But no, it turns out no matter how smart we are, there are always people who are better than us, who know more than us, who are more committed than we are. I recently posted on SDN (in a slew of posts to stealthily promote my blog and kill time before app is verified and interviews start raining like men (I wish!!!!!)), and asked if ADCOMs aka rejection committee officers ever interview a candidate though there is very little chance of accepting them. Here's the best response I received, which highlighted it's not about you per say, but how you COMPARE TO EVERYBODY ELSE in the applicant pool:
And as for deficiencies, everyone has weaknesses. Maybe a 3.6 is a weakness at that school, maybe you appear one dimensional, maybe your leadership roles that you are so proud of are actually quite weak compared to other applicants. I was the president of Habitat for Humanity at Harvard, vs. I started a HFH group at Harvard and we now have 100 members and growing, vs. I was the president of HFH for all of Boston in charge of 20 member groups, vs. I founded a charity as a senior in high school that has raised over $2M for HFH over 5 years, we now have programs in 5 cities. All are quite proud of their leadership, some are more impressive than others.

4. Curveballs are the name of the game. So I prepared six months for the MCAT. This is of course not counting my horrid preparation the first time around. And in my six months, I never thought I would ever need to know logic. No, I don't mean logic like process of elimination skills. Those, I have down to some degree. The knowledge, well I have that down, sort of. But the BS section on my MCAT had a logic LSAT type question. X substrate is necessary or sufficient to bring about luciferase construct activity? Did that make sense to you? If it didn't, it's because I only remember a watered down version of the passage. But regardless, what the heck is the difference between necessary and sufficient? No one told me I needed to know this, none of the six million books I had talked about this. So be prepared...for the unexpected (which really means, uh, you're never really going to be prepared for every possibility, so stop trying? That message didn't come out right).

So there you have it. Life's like the MCAT. Lots of self-inflicted pain. Some surprises. No guarantees.

ps=bs

For your entertainment, a conversation with my friend:

Friend: How's your PS?
Me: ps=bs
Friend: exactly

The beauty of the equation is twofold. It, for one, brings forward the incredulous idea of putting myself on paper in 5300 characters. It's also a thinly veiled insult that highlights the poppycock that is my personal statement.
Confessions of a thesaurus abuser: I looked up a synonym for crap because "crap" sounded so prosaic. At least poppycock ignites the imagination.

And now I shall take this opportunity to exact vengeance (not really). Why you ask? I am inspired by this:

Dear Life,

When you give me lemons, I shall them rub in the open wounds of my enemies.

Sincerely,

Thinking outside the box

When I posted the ps=bs equation on SDN, accompanied by a sincerely desperate request to read my personal statement, I received many helpful responses, and then there was this response:

Originally Posted by Longshanks

You would have a stronger, more convincing PS, if you improved your attitude towards the application process and took this opportunity seriously.

Mind you, this person has never met me, not even sure if they have read the blog to get some sense of who I am (insert self-deprecating yet ever lovable Asian pre-med bordering on quarter life crisis), and they meted out judgement, just like that. I guess I should have seen it coming. Internet is not a place for nuance.
Point of reference: Senator hopeful Deutsch's twitter debacle

Evidence 7: I was relieved to get an 84 (80 + 4-pt curve) on my Anatomy test. An Asian would be crying right now, blaming the misalignment of Venus and Mars.
Evidence 8: It's June 14th, and I still haven't submitted my primary AMCAS application.

Slip of the Tongue

I am not an ardent or even tepid supporter of Freud. The far fetched ideas in his Oedipus Rex and Electra complex theories are off-putting, and seem to be products of his frequent cocaine use at the time. But there's something to be said about his theory of the unconscious. Freud believed that unacceptable ideas or fears are repressed or pushed into the unconscious, where they remain until they are morphed enough to pass the guardian censor, which controls access to the conscious. These ideas, though in the unconscious, can still manifest in our dreams, or in extreme cases, as psychosomatic disorders.

When I was studying for the MCAT, I would often have a dream where I was in some sort of danger, and took out my cell phone to dial 911, but I kept pressing the wrong numbers. I am assuming Freud would have interpreted this as my fear or anxiety of the MCAT. Since the second set of scores came out, I have not had this dream. I guess he was on to something.

Pre-med or Dead

“There are three types of pre-med students that I see: The ones that don’t do the right things because they are doing it for the wrong reasons, the ones that do the right things, but for the wrong reasons and the ones that do their own thing for their own reasons. That third type of group is the most rare and they are the ones that go to the top schools.”

Malcom Gladwell has an interesting book called "Outliers" on the subject of success, which is typically defined in pre-med circles as attending an Ivy League undergrad, a top 10 medical school, and then landing a competitive residency. It seems, however, success is a group effort; personal motivation and intelligence only take you so far.

In my personal observations, there are singularly unique categories of pre-meds, some annoying, some friendly, and some that should come with a sign, "Befriend with caution."

The neurotic one:

* Will ask everyone for help during lab and with class assignments, and will not offer any in return.

* Will call multiple people with the same question despite hearing the same response; they just want to make sure. They also somehow found your number from a friend’s friend.

* They will ALWAYS say they did not perform well, but will end up getting the highest grade.

* Knowing they have received the highest grade, they will ask other students what they got just to see how everyone else fared.

* These are your future medical school gunners

Diagnosis: Best for academic medicine or radiology

The smart one:

Knows what they are doing, keeps quite or to themselves, asks intelligent questions in class, and finishes lab is three hours because they know how to work efficiently.

* A-sians tend to fall under this category.

Diagnosis: I hope you're my doctor.

The stupid one:

There is one in every circle. You look at them and know immediately they will not make it. They are characterized by an inability to answer simple questions like “What is a nucleotide?” If given the right mentorship, the stupid one can transform into a smart one.

Diagnosis: Will not make it. DNR.

The suck-up:

Average pre-med who feels the need to ask the professor personal questions and get to know them intimately just to ask for a recommendation.

Diagnosis: Will unfortunately make it.

The pretentious one:

This is the smart one with zero motivation. They talk intelligently and seem to understand the material, but when it comes to test time, they perform at or below average.

* B-sians tend to fall under this category.

Diagnosis: Your typical lop-sided applicant. All will depend on extracurricular activities and MCAT.

“My daddy is a physician:”

These kids are usually smart, but totally unmotivated and in science for the wrong reasons. They go to Four Seasons for dinner, to the spa for relaxation, and then study if there is time left from all the socializing.

Diagnosis: May or may not make it, depending on daddy's connections and salary

Becoming a physician to work for “Doctors Across Borders:”

These humanitarians are really only interested in medicine to do DAB. Once they enter the dehumanizing world of science and lab work, they quickly realize that there are other ways to channel their Mother Theresa penchant.

Diagnosis: Will not make it