Matahari Kinanti Herwin
Mr. Greg LaVielle
ENG&101 – 0901
Change
“Your little girl has grown up.”
Those are the words I said to my parents as I parted ways with my them at SeaTac. Everything here still seems so surreal and foreign, away from all the hustle and bustle of Jakarta. The crowded sidewalks, the polluted airways, the people commuting in and out of the city and cars stuck in the traffic. It sounds horrible, well it really is horrible, but Jakarta is the place that I have lived for 16 out of 18 years of my life. I have always had my family and friends there every step of the way, but now I have to start over and learn to live by myself somewhere far away and create a new identity for myself.
Change. We don’t like it, we fear it. But we can’t stop it from coming. We either adapt to change, or we get left behind. It hurts to grow, and anyone who tells you it’s not is lying. But here is the truth; sometimes, the more things change, the more they stay the same. Sometimes, change is good. Change is everything.
Seattle was never a choice for me to continue my studies at. It was always either Jakarta or New York. I went to the top-ranked public school in Jakarta, no wonder that almost all of their students are accepted to the “Ivy Leagues” of Indonesia. Institut Teknologi Bandung, Universitas Indonesia, Universitas Gajah Mada were three among other universities that my friends were after. For six months out of my senior year, I was one of them. Studying for eight hours at school, followed by another three in the tutoring place and go home to study even more. It was hardcore, yet worth it if you passed the entrance test to one of those universities. I was going to apply for a degree in Business Management at the University of Indonesia, I was ready and determined until my parents thought that Economy wasn’t my forte. My parents wanted me to pursue music or film, something artsier, because they thought my imagination and my creative skills were big and they thought that being an Economist or a Management/Business Graduate would only be a waste of my talent. I have been playing the piano for more than 11 years, the guitar for six and singing since I was in elementary. My dad is a film director, and following him around work was something I did from when I was a little girl.
I was really frustrated with my parents; I have always thought about how they can’t see how hard I am working to get into the top university in Indonesia? Every other parent would be proud to see their kid studying on weekends without having to yell at them. Well, they did appreciate the effort, but they still thought that the USA was the better choice. I did want to study here once, but after I went to a summer course at New York Film Academy for a month, I felt like I was too childish and not ready to live alone. Even with my best friend with me throughout that summer program and with New York being loud and crowded, I still felt lonely. I’ve decided to pursue my bachelor's degree back home and when I am old enough to pay for my own education, I’ll go to New York for my masters. I tried so hard to convince my parents to let me stay, at one point I even thought about how easily my parents decide to send their only child away. It caused friction between the three of us, we couldn’t talk about college without resulting in an argument.
At school I still studied hard with my friends, I was still aiming to be a student of the University of Indonesia. The only person I could tell about the problem I had with my parents are my boyfriend, who is still a junior so he doesn’t have to worry about this stuff until next year, and one of my best friends, who wants to study pastry in Europe. Both of them told me that what my parents want is probably the best for me, and I should see the silver lining of things. They said that a lot Indonesians wants to study abroad, but they either don’t have the money or their family is fixated with the thought that you have to go to the Ivy Leagues of Indonesia to be successful.
After having time to think about everything, I decided to continue my studies in the United States. At first, I didn’t feel anything—not even excitement. It feels like it was only something obligatory to do. Because of my apathy behavior, I decided to let my mom choose my school for me. I did not really care where I would study for the first two years at because honestly, the two universities I am interested at is New York University and Columbia University. With all of the considerations, I decided to go to Shoreline Community College, where they have a great music department and program. I didn't even know where Shoreline is, I thought that it a neighborhood in Downtown Seattle. I really didn’t care, all I wanted then was to go straight to NYU.
Days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months. I grew more and more anxious about going to the USA. For the first time in a while, I actually felt scared. I kept on thinking about the “what if’s”. What if I did join the Indonesian University Entrance Test—or the SBMPTN, as they call it—and passed, will I still choose the USA? What if something critical happened with my family or friends in Indonesia and I was halfway around the world and can’t do anything about it? What if, what if, what if. I am imagining every worst possible scenario in my head, and they are certainly clouding my judgement. It has gotten to the point that I could not sleep at night, but I pretended to be okay in front of everyone, which I kept on doing until the day that I leave.
Fast forward to the month of October. It is around 5 in the evening, on a sunny and warm Fall day. I am sitting down on the dinner table, with a cup of coffee writing this story. It has been exactly 36 days since I stepped foot on this city. A very quick month has made me forgot how living in Jakarta felt like, how frustrating it is to be stuck in the middle of the bumper-to-bumper traffic and how fun it feels to ride a motorcycle breaking through all that traffic. It still feels lonely, even frustrating at times. I still cry a lot, about how I am not ready for all of these things to happen. I just turned 18, I still forget to turn the lights off when I leave the room. How do you expect me to manage a whole bunch of money, to live by myself, let alone in an apartment, but in a city over eight thousand miles away from home? It is as though I am stuck in an abyss, struggling to find my way out or somewhat try to make that abyss a place that I can call home, but it is hard. It’s one of those things that people say; you can’t move on until you have let go of the past. Letting go is the easy part, it’s the moving on that is painful. So sometimes we fight it, try and keep things the same. Things can’t stay the same though, at some point you just have to let go and move on, because it is the only way we grow. Time waits for no man. Time heals all wounds. Time to stand-up, time to grow up, time to let go.
All in all, every moment, sadness, happiness, excitement, fear, all the hellos, and goodbyes that I have encountered has led me down to this stage of my life. Trying to fight my way to make my dreams come true. I always thought that music and the arts were just a part of my hobby. It turns out that those are the kind of things that I want to not just be good at but to actually find a living, a job, a life and a future from it. When we follow our hearts, when we choose not to settle, it feels like a weight has been lifted, the sun shines a little bit brighter, and for a brief moment at least, we find a little peace. We spend our whole lives worrying about the future, planning for the future, trying to predict the future, as if figuring it out will somehow cushion the blow. But the future is always changing. The future is the home of our deepest fears and our wildest hopes. But one thing is for certain; when it finally reveals itself, the future is never the way we imagined it would be.