I choose used to be a happy child. As an infant, I was known for being gregarious, always greeting family friends and relatives by throwing my arms in the air and laughing. As I grew older, I developed a shyness over being bullied, but that never stopped me from walking around and cracking jokes like Chris Rock.  Besides the friends that I had made at school and my happiness, I was eager to embrace my parents' Bangladeshi culture by attending parties thrown by aunts, celebrating the Bengali New Year (Shuvo Noboborsho), and representing Bangladesh at these international nights that my elementary school organized every year. My parents had a happy marriage and I loved to spend trips to the beach, having frozen yogurt on Sundays, and lavish holiday family dinners in which I made calls home to my paternal grandparents. 

This changed when my father passed away five years ago. Losing my father, I saw a shift in the attitudes of my grandparents. They were no longer the warm, loving grandparents that I knew. They never supported me through the grief of losing my father or called to say that they were sorry for my loss. My grandmother died a few months after my dad passed, leaving me with only a grandfather on my dad's side. 

That summer, my father's immediate family forcibly barged into my house, but it was no happy reunion. My aunt would sometimes hit and verbally abused me. My mother tried speaking out, but my aunt shut her down. The rest of my relatives knew that I was being abused, but they stood by her actions. My grandfather ignored me, constantly praising my younger cousin with nicknames such as "genius" and "golden child." Meanwhile, when my grandfather would attend my swim and martial arts lessons, he would mock the techniques I used or criticized my performance. 

After that summer, my mother and I became estranged from my paternal grandparents. I was prepared to have them call me on my birthday or ask me how school was going. Nope. No contact. Out of sight, out of mind. 

This year, I paid a visit to see my grandfather. He was very cold and stiff, reluctant to greet me at the door. According to Bangladeshi culture, I was expected to be loyal and respectful to my grandparents, even if they said something that I did not approve of. During the visit, my grandfather made fun of my American accent, demanding that I speak "real English." He was also offended when I mentioned to him that I would not be attending an Ivy League, to which is an expectation of the Asian culture.

Throughout my trip to Bangladesh, I was told that I was a disgrace to the culture because I did not respect the elders. This defied one of my life values: respect only those who only respect you. In addition, I was insulted by other relatives for not knowing too much of the language, saying I was not loyal to the "mother country".  Few weeks after leaving Bangladesh, I received a message from my aunt, mentioning that my father's death made me "a disgrace to my parental culture." This traumatized me.

I chose to not engage in the traditions or social norms that made up my Bangladeshi culture. It is unbearable for me to be in a culture in which there is a lack of freedom in terms of speech, movement, or actions. Being a woman, there shouldn't be a social script that suppresses herself to the values of the family members around her. There is no such thing as a disgrace in search of a bitter, candid truth, and it does not affect an individual's well-being if he or she does not pay attention to the culture. I might have been more grateful to the culture as a child, but I was a sapling with no room to grow in terms of maturity, freedom, and self-exploration. I was so enclosed by the values of discipline and control, that I forgot how to be a child. I forgot how to run around in the berry bushes when rather I was dressing up for the next family reunion. 

Since I am considered a disgrace to the Bangladeshi culture, I agree to pass the values that I lacked access to as a child: freedom, maturity, and self-exploration. By maturity, I do not mean making the honor roll, going to Harvard, or learning how to be a good housewife. The normal American family has traditions developed to help the child mature, such as teaching them young about "the burts and bees", having allowances, trusting them to develop their own responsibility, and having a curfew. The value of family is important, but not in terms of having to act the way their relatives want them to. 

I will also continue to not follow a certain culture, but to venture onto what is really significant in terms of life skills and maturing as a responsible adult. It is rather more important to teach your kids how to pay the bills rather than be loyal to your elderly relatives. You do not achieve a family and a salary by respecting your elders. You achieve that through self-sufficiency. Life will not stop for relationships and nor should you. There are so many of life's realities to think about that there should not be a high priority in letting others or a culture socially suppress you. Grace with success and prosperity, not with a cultural or family norms. This is what I hope to do as I reach the adulting age of eighteen years.