Some places are exciting and eventful. Others are expanses of boredom where nothing ever happens. Wayland, Massachusetts is one of the latter. The 13,444 denizens of this town each go about their daily lives, travelling to work, school or the local Stop and Shop that somewhat modernizes the town. Everyone knows everyone. For students, life is simple: follow the rules, conform to what you are taught, and keep quiet.

A few months ago, it was February, Black History Month, at the high school. The school had invited Jabari Asim, an African-American civil rights author, to speak to students about the past and present struggle of African-Americans. Jason C., a 14-year-old Chinese-American freshman, hung onto every word. At the time, Jason was flourishing at WHS by following the standard, by being the standard: he never questioned what he learned, earning him success. Jason was a straight A student.
         

“...The real question is, What can you do to solve the struggle you see around you?” Mr. Asim’s resonant voice vibrated through the auditorium and landed a spot in Nathan’s ear the way an eager spark ignites an expectant strip of dynamite. What about me? We learn about the black struggle in school and have a Black History Month, but what about an Asian History Month? The once harmless and even friendly faces of his classmates appeared menacing and threatening. For once, Jason struggled to feel comfortable in the tight-knit community of his school; its safety barrier collapsed on himself. His mind flew away to alien thoughts about concepts he had never dared to think about; images of his own father stepping off the plane into America with nothing more than a dilapidated suitcase of clothes, 30 dollars in his back pocket, and the determination for a better future; images of his father’s diet of McDonald’s cheeseburgers that he could barely afford; images of the insecurity that followed him around the campus of Ohio State University: Would my future be better if I had stayed in China? And the triumphant images; a signed diploma and tears of joy. All of this and more assembled in Jason's head. Why isn’t our struggle represented in American society? Sweat pricked his arms, but this he disregarded. He was alive within his thoughts.

Months later, Jason is working towards coming to terms with both his mind and his school community. He has accepted that society is moving forward to solve problems but still has a long way to go. In his school newspaper, he wrote an opinion on how Lunar New Year should be a holiday. He is pushing for quotes of great Asian philosophers and writers to be featured on the walls of the school. There’s a lot of work to be done, and Jason will seek to do more. To return to his parents (and millions of other Chinese immigrants) the effort they put forth to give him a home in the United States, because, as the old proverb says, “we all have to start somewhere.”