Writting my sister's biography !
When I was fresh out of high school, I was a girl with a lot of dreams . I believed the world was under my feet and I was capable of achieving the highest possibilities. Parents and teachers asked me if there were anything I interested to learn and which countries I longed to pursue my dream. I was naive, hopeful and without much resources and direction then. All I knew were my peers had found themselves colleges, the time was ticking, and I should make a decision and moved on. In my mind, there was Harvard. People said we should not give up before we even tried. I knew not much about Harvard, but it was undoubtedly the best university one could hope for. I believed if I worked hard, be discipline, be smart, played the right card, everything will eventually worked its way out. Somehow, I would reach the place I wanted to be. So I started my new life chapter, my first college experience in an American Degree Program in Help University. During that time, seniors said it was fun learning under the American education system, teachers were open-minded and they would not control students’ coming and going as high school teachers did. That was the best part. Just by imagining scenes in the American school dramas played out in real life, I already could not wait to start the exciting college life. Little did I know real life was different from movies.
I remembered my eighteen-year-old self, I was curious and adventurous. Even though it was just three years back, I knew I could not go back to who I used to be. I thought I would maximise my exposure and experiences. I participated in the running club and attended weekly trainings. I participated in national competitions and compete with the real masters. I joined the adventure club, and met amazing friends. We stayed two nights inside the mountain and we had the cultural exchange with foreign students in Vietnam. I ate different kinds of food everyday, sometimes I cooked in my hostel. I went to see places after classes to get to know my city better. I took trains and buses for the first time, only knew how the transportation in my country worked. The days then was all about trying new things every single day.
In classes, I studied too. I sat at the first row. I listened and paid attention. I did the homework and assignments. I was discipline, even now I still am. I excelled in maths and computer programming classes, because thinking logically and find a way to solve the problem were always the fun part for me. Sometimes, I also helped my friends with difficulties. I was just lucky to be gifted with a slightly logical brain.
But things were different in other classes. That was where I struggled the most. I faced obstacles and failures in the History and Psychology classes. No matter how focus I was in class, I just could not do well in the exam. I realised the exam was totally different from the lectures. Understanding the lectures in class does not equal to excel in the exam. The lecturer did not teach me to score or prepared me with techniques to do better in exam. I was struggling in vain, my CGPA showed only average results. I was independent and quiet. When I was stuck, I did not ask. Everybody else seemed to do fine, everyone went on happily with their lives. That was what I understood then. My own problem burdened me, simple things worried me. I surveyed through some of the university choices and found that my results only allowed me to apply for below average universities. When I saw the tuition fees of every university listed out on paper, I was also shocked by how expensive they were. My twin sister and me was studying in the same university back then. As she despited the American education system as they only cared about students paying the tuition fees, but not the well being and development of students, part of me was also influenced by her emotion. As soon as she left the school, I soon dropped out of it too.
I left Help University around end of year 2016, then using a few months I signed up for the British Council short course. After I discussed with my mother, I came out with a decision which she also encouraged me to look forward to. Instead of studying in the US, I would go and study in Japan instead. Japan had some really inspiring Architect and I read a lot of their books. I also liked the style and construction of their traditional houses. I learned that country like Japan also looked at student’s English proficiency test. So I started straight for the English classes and get ready for the exam.
Study Architecture had always been my dream. The main influencer was my cousin brother who I looked up to. He was pursuing study in RMIT many years back and was now a successful Architect. Sometimes he shared with me some of the projects he had done. Those are homes and buildings of fresh, bold ideas, beautiful shapes or simple but elegant designs. His vision was big. He told me, I could only aim higher and see further. When I told him about my plan of studying in Japan, his only concern was if I had prepared myself to accept the thinking and working style of Japanese.
After I finished the three months British Council course, I signed up for a Japanese school in Malaysia by March 2017. The course lasted for 20 months, they taught me the language itself, also subjects like Chemistry, Physics and Mathematics. Life inside the small world of Japanese school which all the teachers were Japanese was indeed very different and stressful. Even I have not yet stepped foot outside my country, I have been overwhelmed with their mindset and their way of doing things. The good side of looking at it, compared to my experience in the ADP program was there would be no worry of losing direction. Ironically, their sense of direction was too strong and narrow, they demanded students to act in certain ways and focus only on one purpose, which was the EJU (Examination for Japanese Universities). Discipline was one of the moralities Japanese praise. There were no time to lose and rest. Every minutes and seconds were meant for study, doing the homework and prepare for the exam. Teachers kept track if students hand in their homework every single day. The number of homework was countless, it was as if I could never get ahead of them. The second I finished my work, there were more coming. It was impossible to think about other things in life. I could not enjoy my days with my family and friends. It was sinful to get enough sleep after studying for such long hours. Teachers were strict, reasons were not being taken, all slacking were merely excuses.
I could get along with their way of doing things, but only my family knew the truth, I was tired. It seemed like I have been isolated from the rest of the world. Fun no longer belonged to me. I have no time to eat and sleep. My face have not enough colour in it, my body was skinny. I did my best, but never feel proud about it. At least teachers would never praise the hard work and achievement of the students. The environment was unhealthy, depressing and controlling. I would not admit then. But now when I look back, I would say the Japanese system was a bit too much. It was stressful to always have to live up to such high standards.
I listened to my cousin brother’s advice, to aim high and pursue my dream. I applied for five different universities in Japan. I flew to Japan three times that year to sit for the enrolment exams. Needless to say, the whole progress was tedious and challenging for me. My siblings and parents supported me and helped me through a lot of ups and downs. They told me to believe in myself, so I could harvest the fruits that belonged to me one day. But as the bad news came one by one, I was dejected. None of the universities had accepted me. I could not help but ask why. What have I done wrong to deserve such humiliating results. Maybe I was wrong and I was not good enough. Maybe I was the one to blame for. I disappoint my teachers and parents and I have become a joke for everyone else. I was at the point of giving up myself. My world was crumbling and I told myself I was not going to hope for anything anymore.
On the most difficult night which I had already cried many times that day, my twin brought me to the swimming pool in my neighbourhood. It was peaceful and beautiful over there. There were lights inside the pool and trees surrounding the place. It was like a secret place. The wind blew gently and it was quiet. My twin brought me there to calm me, she allowed me to be sad and mourn over my loss. She did not encourage me to move on, while she blamed and loath all the universities in the world with me. Before we went back home, I already felt much better. At least my twin was still by my side and does not judge me by my failure.
Then I started my Architecture Diploma in the university nearby my house, UCSI. It was simple to explain how I happened to end up there. After going through so much, I became a more flexible person. I understood that there were more than one way to look at the world and there were more than one way to reach the place I wanted to be. It was so much easier to enrol into this university and I started to learn something about Architecture. UCSI was not my best choice, but it allowed me to learn and practice. I was not looking forward to what may happen in the future, while I only acquired knowledge with gratitude. I would like to give a try applying for RMIT. If I was enrolled, I hope I could somehow find my eighteen-year-old self back, and treat the experience in Melbourne as a whole new chapter for myself.
