"I'm going to be a psychologist when I grow up."

Every time I come back to my gloriously small hometown, I prep myself for the questions from the adults here who pushed and raised me through childhood with distant communal care and an unspoken watchfulness we second gen kids have all come to recognize and often long to steal away from.  "Why graduate school?  Why psychology?"  And between silent undertones and confused glances, I recognize those "other" questions too: "What happened to that dental school admission we heard about?  Heck, why not med school, for that matter?"  It's an old stereotype.  Asian parents want their kids to be doctors.  Mine would never be so "unreasonable" as to purport preposterous ideas like that and find themselves in any such category.  They are, of course, more open-minded than such stereotypes require and work hard to keep away from said notions.  Of course.  All the same, some of the pressure still creeps in.  

We come from a place where everyone needs to know, begs to know, cannot run away from other people's business, especially especially especially regarding "the children."  We are everyone's children.  We are a community of Moms and Dads and Kids and you know mine and I know yours.  Some can't wait to slip into college life and get away from it all.  I'm not sure what I think.  To "the parents'" credit, it seems that more and more, the intrusive tide of nosiness, swirling whispers, and constant comparisons is waning.  The questions are more supportive, the community more intimate (in the right way).  I would love to think our center has become the Church, not the hierarchy of vocational positions and job placements in the company that all (yes, I do mean all) our parents work at.  I am optimistic.  I still believe in the goodness of small town values that make up this place, this community.

But sometimes, I still falter at the pressure to report back something indisputably positive, impressive even.  "We raised you, watched you, helped you grow," they seem to say.  Life successes have become ways of saying thanks, of honoring our parents, "the parents," and making something of yourself.  Thank you, friends.  I'm going to be a psychologist when I grow up.

This is an unconventional occupation, especially for the Asian community.  The history of professional mental health care for Asian-Americans, Asians even, is short.  And yet there is something about the idea of emotional well-being that is important to me, especially for children and adolescents.  Perhaps, as many may claim, it is still difficult to place full confidence in the field.  This may be true.  Measuring the effectiveness of therapy and counseling is much harder than of medical procedures and drugs on combating germs and viruses.  Sometimes, I want med school too.  How straightforward it is to heal someone's physical body.  How easy it would be to justify the long hours and tireless efforts.  These are thoughts that still occasionally manifest themselves when everything seems vague, when children don't get better and when research shows the dreaded "no significant results."  Still, progress is progress.  Protocols are being made.  Evidence-based practices are becoming emphasized.  School environments and curriculum are shifting.  Pediatricians are recognizing the importance of mental, emotional, and developmental well-being.  Bring in the psychologist.  Lives can be changed.  Etc.  Etc.  Etc.  At the heart of it all, I am optimistic.  I still believe in the goodness of humankind that make up our existence, our world.

Call me corny, call me naive.  I am optimistic.  I will answer your questions.  Thank you for caring, for watching, for asking.  Yes, ma'am, I'm going to be a psychologist when I grow up.