A "Problematic" Person
I always want to know more, and it’s hard to switch off.
My mum used to say that kids who always ask “why” show signs of intelligence. She made me feel like being curious was normal.
Coming from a Chinese schooling system, the reality couldn’t have been more stark. Teachers would label you as a problematic person if you raised your hand too many times or asked questions instead of just listening and nodding.
It used to make me feel small when my primary school teacher showed her face of disdain after I asked too many questions. It was only years later that I realised all these adult figures we looked up to had their own insecurities and problems, which they projected, whether on purpose or not.
Perhaps my parents’ encouragement became a double-edged sword. The curiosity they nurtured eventually turned inward, probing the very haven I was raised in: the food on our table, the exchanges that left me yearning for more, the expectations that hung unspoken.
Coming into adulthood and working life, I’ve mellowed. But I’m still as rebellious as ever. I’ve never been someone who can just stay silent when I strongly believe in something. That’s gotten me into trouble more than once.
There were moments I wished I could take my words back. Not because they were wrong, but because the cost felt too heavy in a world where compliance is appreciated.
Sometimes, I wonder if life would have been easier if I had just stayed silent.
Maybe my parents and I wouldn’t have quarreled so often if I had simply accepted the status quo.
Perhaps my homeroom tutor from primary school would have approved of me if I hadn’t asked so many questions.
But I can’t shake the feeling that my life wouldn’t be as wonderful as it is if I hadn’t asked all those questions.
The turns I took, instead of following the safest, most acceptable path, led me to some of the most memorable moments I still carry with me today. Without those turns, I wouldn’t have read the books, gone to the places, or met the people who shaped me into who I am.
The unpredictability of the experiences that unfolded from my questions was a mix of reward, pain, and the occasional embarrassment. I was clumsy in my truth-seeking, but never dishonest.
As the book Surprise puts it, “We feel most comfortable when things are certain, but we feel most alive when they’re not.”
So, I will carry on to be a curious seeker of truth, relentlessly.
