Living the "Asian-American" Dream
By James O. Chang, M.D.
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me to survive the pressures of medical school and the hoop jumping that came my way.
Graduating from the Medical College of Wisconsin meant more than just checking off another goal my parents had
for me. I realized the importance of this occasion as my parents and mother-in-law flew all the way from Southern
California to bask in the achievements of their son. Having lived in Wisconsin for almost half a decade, the only other
times my wife and I had been able to convince any relatives to leave sunny California to visit the Midwest was shortly
after the birth of each of our three children. Obviously, this was an important occasion, one to rival that of childbirth.
During a graduation celebration my parents held for me, I again realized the magnitude of my accomplishments
when all my aunties and uncles congratulated me, telling me how proud they were that I had become the first of the
family to become a medical doctor. Amid the chow mien, egg rolls, cake, and congratulations, my parents glowed
with pride as their dreams had come to fruition through my medical degree.
My parents came to this country as Vietnam War refugees, started with nothing, and they worked hard to become
successful. Because of my parents' example of hard work, demand for academic excellence, strict discipline, and
unwavering support, much of what I have accomplished can be attributed to them.
The Asian-American culture is one where success is measured by academic accomplishments, degrees earned,
income level, and social status. But missing from this list is something less measurable and arguably the most
important component of any dream. Be it American, Asian-American, or Martian, a good dream needs to be a happy
one. My parents sacrificed much for their children with hopes and dreams that their children would accomplish much
academically and become doctors, dentists, or lawyers. They felt that this would bring happiness. But I argue that
while medical school was a rewarding accomplishment, even more rewarding was the fact that with my wife's
support, we have managed to succeed in our endeavors while raising a young family with three beautiful children.
My parents' number one goal for me was to always place academics above all others. In retrospect, had I placed my
life on hold as my parents had wanted in the name of pursuing academic excellence, I would never have taken a
two-year break from school to do missionary work nor would I have gotten married to the love of my life. Placing my
life on hold for academia, most likely would have resulted in me never going to medical school and the so called
"Asian-American dream" would never have come to realization.
I firmly believe that because the essence of one's life comes from living it, life can not and should not be put on hold.
Case in point: my parents never came to visit me here in Wisconsin just because I was a good medical student. But
to see their grandchildren, they were willing to leave Southern California, their little heaven on earth, to visit for weeks
at a time. My parents' happiness could be gauged by the smiles on their faces and the number of photos taken. A
good friend of mine attained "Asian-American dream" status when he graduated from medical school, completed a
surgical residency, and found a good job as a successful surgeon. But he often voices to me how he wishes he had
not put off the rest of his life goals such as marriage and family. Another friend of mine whose parents also sacrificed
much so that she could get an education became deeply disappointed with her decision to become a full-time
stay-at-home mom. But each time her parents visit from China, nothing makes them happier than to see their
grandchildren.
As for the four goals established for me as a child, I have yet to check off piano or violin prodigy from the list.
Nonetheless, I find life very satisfying because I live it instead of putting it on hold. And while people may now refer to
me as "doctor," I continue to work to become an honorable one as I live my life and pursue the so-called
"Asian-American Dream."
James Chang is a recent graduate of the Medical College of Wisconsin. He is currently a Transitional Year resident
at the Aurora St. Luke's Medical Center in Milwaukee and starting July 2008, will begin his Radiology residency at the
University of Arizona in Tucson.
He will be Asian Wisconzine's regular columnist on health matters. Watch for his first column on health next isue.
To have a house with a walk-in closet, white picket fence, dog, and 2.5 beautiful children --
that is the American Dream. As stereotyped as it may sound, the Asian-American dream I
grew up understanding as a second generation Chinese-Vietnamese immigrant consisted
of parents who both worked and went to school full-time while demanding that their kids
achieve nothing less than these four simple goals: 1) always put academics first and gain
Honor student status with a 4.0 GPA, 2) become a piano and/ or violin prodigy, 3) succeed
while attending a prestigious university and medical school, 4) become an honorable doctor.
Becoming an honor student in high school was mainly the result of mom and dad
constantly breathing down my neck to study and do my homework. I found collegiate
academia -- my freshman year at UCLA -- more difficult with the absence of my
parents' nagging and the lures of parties diverting me from studying. But two years
away from school as a missionary in Australia brought self discovery and discipline
and I returned to school to recover from a disastrous freshman GPA, from which I
eventually got into medical school.
While many think that the rigors of medical school would be more of a nightmare
than a dream, I argue that while at times it may have felt like a bad dream, it was
tolerable, and many times enjoyable. If you forget about the tiring pre-test cram
sessions spent memorizing minutiae, board exam preparation for 12 hours per
day, three weeks straight or sleepless chaos while on overnight call at the hospital,
then medical school was actually quite pleasant. Then there are the times I actually
got to help people during their healing process, which reminded me of why
medicine can be so rewarding.
Succeeding in medical school requires less intelligence than most people
realize. From my experience, getting to this stage of my profession took 80 percent
organizational, planning, and pressure handling skills (or what I call hoop jumping
proficiency) and 20 percent intellect. Hurdles like the medical school admissions
hoopla, MCAT (Medical College Admissions Test), USMLE (United States Medical
Licensing Exam), clinical rotations, and the residency application process required
just as much, if not more savvy hoop jumping skills than book smarts. The inflated
expectations and pressures my parents placed on me growing up prepared
My family -- my parents, wife,
and my kids