Declaring My Major as East Asian Studies
“Hi,” my voice resonated over a Google Hangouts call. My family’s WIFI is bad, so I can sometimes hear my voice echoing back through the line, faintly calling out to me from the abyss. This time was like that.
“Hi,” my sister replied, sounding disconnected. In the background I could hear my niece crooning over Roblox, more than a few dogs barking, a conversation between my brother and my mom, and my younger sister’s laughter. From the shifting of the phone, my sister could’ve been wrestling with an alligator on the other end.
“I declared my major,” I said. It didn’t sound happy, though I tried to put it on. Instead it sounded like a confession. “I’m pregnant,” “I’m dropping out,” something along those lines.
“As what?” my sister snapped, even though... we’d discussed it... just the day before... and I’d made my position clear.
I hesitated. “East Asian Studies.”
My sister didn’t reply but it wasn’t a dramatic pause or anything; it was disconnected pause, like she had to put the phone down to put the alligator in the choke hold. After a few seconds and after calling out to someone in the kitchen, she echoed back to me, “East Asian Studies?”
“I thought you were gonna major in English?”
“EAST ASIAN STUDIES IS BETTER THAN ENGLISH,” my mom called.
“Why do you think that?” my sister asked.
“BECAUSE, THEN AT LEAST SHE CAN BE A TRANSLATOR.”
My sister didn’t say much, trying to be polite. Finally, she asked, “what are you going to do with that?”
“Do companies hire East Asian Studies majors?”
“Yes, of course-- I think.”
I explained my reasoning behind the major again, told my family what my advisors had told me, the works, but it didn’t seem to connect in their brain. I too felt a bit disconnected. This wasn’t the major I had envisioned for myself. This wasn’t a major I’d want to tell relatives about at family get togethers. Was I wedding myself to East Asian Studies or was I wedding myself to low-unit count? What about biology? What about writing? What about getting a job?
I walked to my classes that day feeling heavy but also relieved. Something had been put down on paper. Some progress had been made in the battle I’d been waging with myself for the past nine months. Even if it was the wrong progress. But it also opened up new problems, new uncertainties, new feelings of confusion and guilt and anxiety.
I’m sure it doesn’t help going to a predominantly STEM university either.
Does it really make sense to let a single instance-- a friend sharing Kpop with me three years ago -- affect my entire life? The rest of my life?
In Korean class this year I learned the verb “고민하다”, which is different from 걱정하다, to worry, in that “고민하다” is a combination between thinking and worrying. Or maybe overthinking to the point of worrying. I’m not sure if I’ve ever been so frustrated or confused in my life, and this is part of the reason why I sought out therapy this school year--- THAT’s how much it’s been eating me up.
I feel pressure to do something more practical but I’m also ridiculously stubborn and I can’t sacrifice anything that I care about for things that seem more reasonable. It’s just not in my nature. But everyone around me, all of my friends, seem to be on such cool and lucrative paths. Med School, Google, etc. I’m really in awe of them, I’m impressed. I think what they’re doing is really cool. I think it’s so cool I’m envious. Envious of how intellectually engaging their classes seem and how smart they are, envious of how secure their futures are. I foresee private schools for their children and expensive vacations on Instagram. They have the kind of majors I’d want to bring up at family reunions to show off in the faces of all the people who told me I couldn’t or shouldn’t go to college.
Everyone seems to know what they’re doing all of the time. They seem to have some sort of secret blueprint to success and they’re following it well. I feel like I came to college with such low expectations of myself and with such strict assumptions of what I could and couldn’t do. No one in family has been in this situation before, so when I think about the future and what I should do or what I’m capable of doing or what I want to do, it’s a deep, dark abyss of confusing-ness to me.
On the other hand, my gwanshim (관심 lol) for Korea, regardless of how it started, where it’s going, or how I feel about it, has enriched my life in so many ways. I’ve never been more completely uncomfortable, enthralled, or fascinated than when I was in Korea studying at Seoul National or learning Korean from Youtube videos as a high schooler in my home. Or meeting people who shared the same intellectual interests, or meeting people who come from cultures I’d yet to fully understand.
Minus my older sister, the same people doubting me now are the same people who have always doubted me.
To this day I approach the topic of my interest in Korea with shame or at least a tinge of embarrassment. It’s cringey, I’m a white American female, it’s a phase I should have grown out of.
While the future gives me anxiety, studying Korean has taken me down unexpected and crazy paths, and I don’t think I want to stop yet.