what did our mother have in mind for us?
only what any good Korean mom hopes for (and forces upon) her children:
Doctor
Lawyer
Architect
Engineer
Millionaire's Wife
Doctor
that being said, most Korean moms try to feign unconditional support for independence and perseverance.
that is, up until the independent child becomes too independent and therefore also unruly and naive and, potentially, a failure in all aspects of life.
let's face it, most Asian babies are brought into the world for 2 reasons: the first, to maintain and further the Asian influence in the world; the second, to make enough money (by becoming a renowned doctor) so as to take care of the Asian parents when they're old and useless.
the others are accidents.
Mommy (that is, Mama Toro) is no exception.
when my sisters and i were growing up, our parents (Mommy, especially, as our dad was more or less a bit absent during our early years) instilled in us the very powerful and true ideas that, when we grow up, being females and ethnic minorities, we would have to overcome a great deal of strife in order to fulfill our dreams and goals.
and we should never let anything hold us back.
and we should do exactly what makes us successful in all senses of the word, particularly happiness, as she was robbed of the opportunities and encouragement to do so herself.
as amazing as that sounds, though (and as grateful as i am for that kind of upbringing), secretly our mother thought that any right-minded individual with that kind of encouragement would want to enter an Asian friendly career like the ones mentioned above.
who, with the right brains, talent, fortitude, and Asianness wouldn't want to be a doctor/architect/engineer/
lawyer/millionaire of some kind?
granted, Olivia was on the lawyer track for about 22 years of her life, much to Mommy's delight.
4.0+ since the womb, accepted into the most selective liberal arts college on scholarship (which was not a minority scholarship, as some suggested), accepted into every one of the top 5 law schools in the country, Olivia was never one to disappoint.
she only ever wanted to be a lawyer, or the first female president.
until she spent some time in law school and discovered that her passions lay more in the field of hands-on community service.
and she's happy now.
Annie's series of career choices was more eclectic. of the same intelligence and natural talent as Olivia, though without, perhaps, as strong an interest in academia, Annie's career choices never really followed a trend, although they did all more or less suit certain aspects of her character.
first, Annie, as an enforcer, wanted to be a cop.
then, probably in an attempt to better please our mother, she wanted to be a doctor.
then an architect.
then, when she got into a top university, Annie briefly showed interest in neurology, right before switching to International Studies.
now she happily teaches English in Japan.
but while my sisters spent brief stints in Mommy's good graces, looking back, i don't think i ever genuinely fit the mold.
my first career choice, at the age of 4, was cab driver, as i'd just seen the episode of the Muppet Babies where the babies go to the moon in a taxi.
which i suppose means that i actually wanted to be an astronaut.
that and, even then, i liked the idea of handling cash.
this dream lasted a good year or so.
that is, up until my family responded well to my earliest imitations of chickens and the like, and my parents, jokingly, told me that i should think about comedy.
jokingly, because i'm sure it wasn't what my mother had in mind.
especially as, during a big talk, i confessed to wanting to be "just like Ellen someday."
the next day, my mother gave me her old college math and science textbooks and educated me on the important contributions made by doctors and engineers the world over.
so i dabbled a little bit.
i fell in love with my LEGOs: the only unisex toys of which my mother ever really approved.
i even claimed that all i really wanted to do was be an aerospace engineer.
but it was all a lie.
particularly after comedy managed to get me out of a few scrapes and, as i realize now, helped me survive some of the worst years of my life.
i came home from school once, a little put out. my dad took notice and asked what was bothering me. i told him that kids liked to tease me about my walk, which resembled something of a waddle.
"Waddle?! One of the best comedians in history waddled!"
"Really?"
"Yeah! His name was Charlie Chaplin."
and as soon as the rented VHS of The Gold Rush started to play, with my dad anxiously awaiting my response in the background, i fell in love.
it was too late, then.
my heart was taken.
as i would discover and practice while growing up, finding the funny in everything is no mean feat.
...and oh-so necessary.
i suppose some people would laugh if i called comedy my "craft" or my "art."
many make the mistake of associating comedy with joke-telling or obnoxiously making an ass of oneself or of others.
but genuine, memorable comedy doesn't rely on simple gags or humiliation.
at least, it shouldn't.
but the kind that people latch onto, and the kind that really means something and lasts is grounded in sincerity and - cheesily enough - humanity.
one of the most important rules of comedy is that the funniest things are funny because they're true, and because they're true, chances are it's because so many people in the audience have experienced it themselves.
we like things that we can connect to, even if we can't understand how or why it means so much.
granted, i'm not gonna lie: i can get a good laugh out of a guy getting hit in the crotch or something.
but it doesn't resonate as much as, say, someone dealing with the throes of unrequited love - something i'm all too familiar with - and turning it into something lighthearted and easier to deal and cope with.
it takes a lot of astuteness to really pull off that kind of comedy - that is, the kind that can, literally, turn a frown upside-down.
it takes a great level of reasoning as well as optimism and perseverance to pull that off.
sometimes, it even requires a certain level of courage and awareness - of both one's surroundings and of oneself.
and, most importantly of all, it necessitates a deep understanding of people and looking beyond one's own self-absorbed bubble.
i don't flatter myself by assuming that i possess these qualities - any at all.
but i know that i strive to at least come close someday.
and that's the kind of comedy i want to write and do.
the kind that inspires hope as well as laughter.
the kind that people connect to and remember whenever the going gets tough.
and i think that all of that can be just as important in our world - especially with the current climate - as curing diseases or owning an estate.
laughter's the best medicine, anyhow.
granted, Olivia was on the lawyer track for about 22 years of her life, much to Mommy's delight.
4.0+ since the womb, accepted into the most selective liberal arts college on scholarship (which was not a minority scholarship, as some suggested), accepted into every one of the top 5 law schools in the country, Olivia was never one to disappoint.
she only ever wanted to be a lawyer, or the first female president.
until she spent some time in law school and discovered that her passions lay more in the field of hands-on community service.
and she's happy now.
Annie's series of career choices was more eclectic. of the same intelligence and natural talent as Olivia, though without, perhaps, as strong an interest in academia, Annie's career choices never really followed a trend, although they did all more or less suit certain aspects of her character.
first, Annie, as an enforcer, wanted to be a cop.
then, probably in an attempt to better please our mother, she wanted to be a doctor.
then an architect.
then, when she got into a top university, Annie briefly showed interest in neurology, right before switching to International Studies.
now she happily teaches English in Japan.
but while my sisters spent brief stints in Mommy's good graces, looking back, i don't think i ever genuinely fit the mold.
my first career choice, at the age of 4, was cab driver, as i'd just seen the episode of the Muppet Babies where the babies go to the moon in a taxi.
which i suppose means that i actually wanted to be an astronaut.
that and, even then, i liked the idea of handling cash.
this dream lasted a good year or so.
that is, up until my family responded well to my earliest imitations of chickens and the like, and my parents, jokingly, told me that i should think about comedy.
jokingly, because i'm sure it wasn't what my mother had in mind.
especially as, during a big talk, i confessed to wanting to be "just like Ellen someday."
the next day, my mother gave me her old college math and science textbooks and educated me on the important contributions made by doctors and engineers the world over.
so i dabbled a little bit.
i fell in love with my LEGOs: the only unisex toys of which my mother ever really approved.
i even claimed that all i really wanted to do was be an aerospace engineer.
but it was all a lie.
particularly after comedy managed to get me out of a few scrapes and, as i realize now, helped me survive some of the worst years of my life.
i came home from school once, a little put out. my dad took notice and asked what was bothering me. i told him that kids liked to tease me about my walk, which resembled something of a waddle.
"Waddle?! One of the best comedians in history waddled!"
"Really?"
"Yeah! His name was Charlie Chaplin."
and as soon as the rented VHS of The Gold Rush started to play, with my dad anxiously awaiting my response in the background, i fell in love.
it was too late, then.
my heart was taken.
as i would discover and practice while growing up, finding the funny in everything is no mean feat.
...and oh-so necessary.
i suppose some people would laugh if i called comedy my "craft" or my "art."
many make the mistake of associating comedy with joke-telling or obnoxiously making an ass of oneself or of others.
but genuine, memorable comedy doesn't rely on simple gags or humiliation.
at least, it shouldn't.
but the kind that people latch onto, and the kind that really means something and lasts is grounded in sincerity and - cheesily enough - humanity.
one of the most important rules of comedy is that the funniest things are funny because they're true, and because they're true, chances are it's because so many people in the audience have experienced it themselves.
we like things that we can connect to, even if we can't understand how or why it means so much.
granted, i'm not gonna lie: i can get a good laugh out of a guy getting hit in the crotch or something.
but it doesn't resonate as much as, say, someone dealing with the throes of unrequited love - something i'm all too familiar with - and turning it into something lighthearted and easier to deal and cope with.
it takes a lot of astuteness to really pull off that kind of comedy - that is, the kind that can, literally, turn a frown upside-down.
it takes a great level of reasoning as well as optimism and perseverance to pull that off.
sometimes, it even requires a certain level of courage and awareness - of both one's surroundings and of oneself.
and, most importantly of all, it necessitates a deep understanding of people and looking beyond one's own self-absorbed bubble.
i don't flatter myself by assuming that i possess these qualities - any at all.
but i know that i strive to at least come close someday.
and that's the kind of comedy i want to write and do.
the kind that inspires hope as well as laughter.
the kind that people connect to and remember whenever the going gets tough.
and i think that all of that can be just as important in our world - especially with the current climate - as curing diseases or owning an estate.
laughter's the best medicine, anyhow.
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