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Cyndine Kim May 2014
As a kid, I used to think I was lucky. My other friends' parents yelled at them left and right and expected perfection. My parents made deals and laughed and said it was okay if I got a B. My friends' parents forced them to take violin lessons, piano lessons, Chinese lessons, ACT lessons, SAT lessons, and expected nothing less than superior for all of them. My parents asked what my hobbies were, what I wanted to do and what I cherished. They wanted to cherish them too. My other friends' parents envied me, their faces grew longing when I described the silky cheesecake I was allowed to eat at breakfast. Their eyebrows lifted in wonder at the thought of being praised for giving an effort and failing.

As I grew older, my happiness turned into envy again. Even though their parents pushed them to the brink and mine barely controlled me, I started doing worse. First came the B-'s then it dropped to C's and possibly even lower. I didn't think it was a problem at first, then came the time when my parents realized they did something wrong. They couldn't maintain the specific balance between too much and too less. I turned out to be a hopeless kid; one who struggled in class, one who couldn't keep up. My other friends, the ones with tiger parents excelled. Some were precocious, some were average smart. I couldn't compare. Their parents stopped yelling, finally satisfied with their work.

But that was when mine started yelling. Anger management wouldn't be able to handle them. Their poisonous words fell off their mouths like acid rain in a forest. I was the one who bore all the blame. My teenage rebellious personality wouldn't let me sit and watch, I had to talk back. The 5 minute talks grew to 10 minute admonishing and to 20 minute arguments where both sides were screaming at the top of their lungs in order to get their point across. We kept a drawer full of cough drops whenever these high-pitched arguments stopped. Each side would nurse their pride along with their swollen throats.

So now I wonder by myself, is it better to be strict to young kids and relax with older kids or the other way around? Each path brings its own side of pain, but each with its own reward.

— The End —