It has been raining this entire afternoon. One of the best things about my apartment is the giant French window facing the lake. I have been working in front of my window for a few hours, listening to the rain tapping its melody on this window. This reminds me of what happened last summer: in a rainy afternoon in Taiwan, after I had tea with my high school friends, I sat in front of my window at home, writing an article and listening to the rain.
In the past two years, I picked up the habit of writing something in my language after each quarter. Through writing, I could feel the most beautiful and artistic language in the world surging in my veins, and most important of all, recollect all kinds of flavors in my life. When I went back home this summer, however, I did not write a word. Perhaps it was because I knew I was in fear and distress, for various reasons, and that if I had written anything down, they would have been words of despair and regret. Therefore, I chose not to write, even though I had a lot to say. Now I am sitting in front of my window listening to the rain, I suddenly feel that in the past month, I have turned back into that carefree girl a year ago. The raindrops are dripping down from the window frame, down into the lake of memory deep in my heart, rippling through some of the best moments in my life
When I was leaving home in July, I wrote a Facebook status, “A month ago when I was leaving Chicago, my heart was covered with bleeding wounds. Now I am leaving Taiwan in 12 hours, I know nothing can harm me anymore. I found the light.” This is perhaps the best portrait of the strong contrast of my feelings before and after I left Chicago: home can cure a wounded soul. I had been counting down for three weeks before I went back home. Every morning when I woke up, the first thing that came into my mind was the number of days until I could go home. The moment when the plane finally landed at TPE, I woke up from the landing shake, as if I was waking up from a long nightmare, back into the joyful reality. I don’t think there is any language that can precisely describe how I felt when I finally stepped into my room at midnight. I fell asleep immediately, and for the first time in three weeks, I did not wake up in the middle of the night because of nightmares. I was home, and I felt so safe and relieved.
The next morning when I woke up, Mom had already prepared my breakfast for me: homemade sourdough and pesto. All of a sudden I realized how much I miss the feeling of being taken care of. When I took the first bite of my breakfast, I felt something really warm go through my throat and spread through my whole body. It was not only the delicious food, but also Mom’s love and care. I have been living in the United States on my own for almost two years, so it is not that I “need” someone to take care of me. It was the memories and feelings of love associating with home that touched me. I still remember one year ago when I was packing and getting ready to go back to school, Mom came in with a bag, “Here are some mushrooms. You can make mushroom chicken soup when you go back to Evanston. There are also some spices and Italian herbs you can use to cook. I put them in different zipper bags so they will not fall out or get mixed up. Oh, I also got you some pork floss with seaweed and sesame, your favorite kind. You can munch on them when you are hungry.” I put the bag in my suitcase, and the moment she left my room I couldn’t hold my tears anymore. She thought of everything for me. Everything. She took care of every single detail for me so that I wouldn’t need to take the trouble. Sometimes I really wonder how much love and care it takes to be a parent, and what makes a parent able to think through everything so thoroughly for their child.
During the month I spent at home, I did not do anything special, but it was definitely the happiest month of the year. When I was at home, I spent most of my time reading historical novels and literature classics that I did not get a chance to read before, which was a nice break from all the science textbooks in college. Whenever I got tired from reading, I wandered into Dad and Mom’s room, talking to them about random things, or just sat by them when they worked. Sometimes I also hung out in my brother’s room. My brother has changed a lot in the past two years. When he first graduated from junior high, I was worried that he didn’t know what to do with his life. Now I could see his eyes sparkling with confidence and aspiration. When I recall what I did with my family when I was home, I really could not think of anything spectacular. Instead, we spent most of our time together, doing things we do every day: writing, reading, eating, and of course, cooking. Yet it was these regular things that truly made me feel at home. It was these things that melted the ice that was freezing my heart and healed my wounds. In the last week of my vacation, when I woke up in the morning and looked into my eyes in the mirror, I could always see the carefree and cheerful girl from last year smiling at me, as if nothing had happened. That was when I truly realized I am still the same person, no matter what happened, because I still have the spirits and characters of my family. As long as that twinkle does not disappear, I know nothing can harm me. Is a four-week vacation too short? Yeah maybe, but it goes to show how many wonders home can do in such a short period of time.
Another thing I miss very much about home is my high school friends. During one of the weekends, I went to Taipei to visit them. The moment when we started to talk about all the things we did in high school and laughed uncontrollably on the bus, I felt as if we had gone back in time and turned into the lighthearted high school girls in our green shirts and black skirts. Most of us have changed a lot in the past two years because we were exposed to different worlds in college. Sometimes when I am looking through my friends’ Facebook pages, I feel somehow difficult to connect with them, for I am in another country living a completely different life. However, that day when we all went out for dinner, we started to do the silly things we used to do in high school, that was when I knew I would always belong to this community. Yes, we have all changed a lot in college, but once we get together, we are all high school girls again. I could feel the radiant youthfulness and passion that brought us to Green Island and Sun Moon Lake when we graduated. In the past two years, when I got frustrated, it was often these high school memories that glittered to me from the night sky. I know no matter what happens, there is always a group that I belong to, and there are always some people that could hear my voice across the Pacific Ocean.
When I first came to Northwestern two years ago, what stroke me the most was not the different language or culture, but how far away people are from each other. Perhaps it was because I was so used to spending 8am to 5pm every day with the same thirty people in the past three years, I did not understand why I felt so distant from my college classmates. Thankfully, I made an amazing group of friends in my freshman year. Although we are all from different countries, I felt completely comfortable being myself among this group of friends. Perhaps it was because everyone was new to this country, or because everyone was so sincere, our experience brought us close together. Among them, I could see a trace of my warm high school community. It was this group of friends that gave me the courage to explore the unknown and to face all kinds of challenges in college. It was this group of friends with whom I spent the best time of my freshman year. It was this group of friends who could always light up my heart in the darkness. Although we did not see each other as much in our sophomore year, I often think of all the wonderful moments we spent with each other. Whenever I look at the pictures we took together, a smile always lights up my face.
Sophomore year was quite different. I had dinner with a friend a few weeks ago, and he said he missed freshman year because “at that time everyone just wanted to be friends.” So true. In my freshman year, my friends are people who wanted to have a good time together, not to make each other’s life miserable. In my sophomore year, something was different. I used to think that as long as I don’t do harm to others, no one would want to hurt me. My experience in the past year proved me wrong. However, I still met some really great people who I really enjoy spending time with. Because of them, I could stand all kinds of hardships in the past year.
Most important of all, I found the Meade Lab. Since I joined the Lab last summer, it has become my favorite place on campus. When I work there, I am always so focused that I forget about all the disturbing things happening in my life. I enjoy the feeling of accomplishing something every moment, even though what I have been doing might only be a very tiny part of scientific development. I couldn’t really tell why I like it so much. Maybe it is because I am only focusing on working, and my mind feels pure and clean. Also, the Meade Lab is probably the best community I have ever seen on campus. I don’t know what kind of magic is prevailing in this place. Everyone here seems to be so cheerful and lively. Most important of all, everyone feels he or she belongs here. (One of the best examples is that wherever there is free food, we always appear as a group of twenty or so and take over the place.) In the Meade Lab, I could ask anyone for help on anything, and I am not afraid of making mistakes. I could feel that sense of community I used to be so familiar with when I was in high school, and that is probably why I enjoy every moment I spend in the Meade Lab.
“Do you know what is the best way to figure out where you are in the lab? Just listen and see where all the laughter is from.” The first time I heard this comment from my labmate, I felt slightly embarrassed. When I thought of it afterward, however, it warmed my heart. The laughter usually happens when I make some random English mistake or lag the conversation for five minutes. If I have to make a mistake anyway, why not give everyone a chance to laugh? After all, happiness is something to be shared, not to be kept for myself. The Meade Lab is where I found happiness and a pure mind. It is where I realized that I can be completely devoted to something, and it is where I truly fell in love with chemistry.
If you asked me why I want to go to graduate school six months ago, I would probably have said something like “I like chemistry, and I want to continue with it after college,” or “What else will you do with a Bachelor’s degree in chemistry?” If you ask me now, I will give a different answer. In the past few months, I realized that I want to go to graduate school because I actually want to. Graduate school is a place full of intellectual challenges. There are too many things unknown, and you cannot simply rely on others to teach you everything. Most of the time, you have to explore in the dark and try to figure the mystery out on your own. Sometimes it can get very frustrating, but through the process, you can learn so much and make yourself a more intelligent and capable person. Also, in graduate school, you have the chance to work with some of the most brilliant people in the world. They are all people trying to come up with different ways to solve problems and to explore the unknown. The people in the Meade Lab are some of the smartest people I have ever met in my life. Sometimes when they explain an experiment they designed or some abstract theory to me, I couldn’t help but get awed by the level of intelligence involved. The knowledge I have been learning in the Meade Lab is often difficult to understand, but I still enjoy the brain exercise. Sometimes when I finally understand a concept that I have been struggling with, the feeling of enlightenment is ineffable. The only thing I could say is, “I see the light.”
Most important of all, graduate school teaches you an attitude toward life. In the past year, other than laboratory techniques, some of the most important things that I have picked up from the Meade Lab are how to deal with frustrations more maturely, how to approach problems like a scientist, and how important it is to “think ahead.” These attitudes have really changed the ways I deal with things in my life outside of my lab, and I know nowhere else can teach me these things as well as graduate school can. I finally started to understand what my parents meant when they told me, “Graduate school is a very important training. Research skills are just the external things you see. You are going to learn something internal that you won’t be able to learn anywhere else.” Therefore, I want to go to graduate school, even though I am not sure whether I am going to make a good life after I get my PhD. What my parents have been teaching me with their lives is that a degree from a prestigious university does not guarantee you a smooth career without any hitch, but if you learn the correct attitudes in graduate school, you will be able to deal with all kinds of difficulties. No matter where you go, you will go far. I know going to graduate school does not guarantee me a well-paid job, but it will bring me a step closer to the ideal personality I have been pursuing my entire life.
Sometimes I feel like the more I learn about graduate school, the more I could relate myself with my parents. Last week I read the letter Dad sent me in my freshman year winter quarter again. Those were some very cold and dark months, and I was frustrated by many things. All I wanted to do was to go home, and I started to question my decision of coming to Northwestern. It was this letter that refilled me with hope; it was this letter that gave me the courage to face the hardships; it was this letter that reminded me of my original goals and passion. As I move on in college, I started to understand that this is not only something Dad wrote to make me feel better. As I started to pick up jogging again, thanks to a friend who asked me to jog all the time, I realized that it is a very honest record of Dad’s mental journey. When he was writing me the letter, he was probably not only trying to encourage me but also reliving some of the best moments of his life. Due to my limited life experience, I could not understand everything Dad was trying to tell me at once, but every time I read this letter, I resonate a little more. I am very proud to be my parents’ daughter, and everything I am doing now brings me a step closer to them. I know one day I will be able to completely identify myself with Dad’s letter.
The melody of the rain stopped while I was sailing on my ocean of thoughts. The thunderstorm is no longer raging through Evanston, but the sky is still cloudy and grey. I can see a faint ray of sunlight behind the thick clouds, and the lake is a tranquil bluish green. If I could take a picture of the scene in my heart right now, it is probably very similar to what I am seeing through the window — the peacefulness and serenity after a storm. Looking at the spots of light on the lake, I suddenly thought of something I heard about last year, “Happiness is not a fleeting emotion. It is a long-lasting, peaceful state of mind.” I cannot say that I have that state of mind already, for I still experience sorrow and anger in life. However, I know there is something that consistently radiates happiness and positive energy to my heart: I know my life is graced with many blessings, and I am very grateful for my good fortune. At this point I already have everything I want, so I ask for nothing from the world. Everything I am asking for is from myself. I am going to make myself the person I want myself to be.
p.s. If writing in Chinese is like sewing, writing in English is like sewing with gloves on. I do not have complete control over my words. Also, maybe it is because English is s more scientific language than Chinese, there are so many things, especially sentiments, that cannot be conveyed in English. Oh well, I believe that beautiful language can add flavors to the article, but as long as I write with my heart, people will be able to hear my voice even though I am using the plainest language.