Some fluff I wrote. My teacher loved it. I'm not so sure, so:
There are costs to an individual in belonging to a group
The glittering golden liquid was poured in a glass especially for me. Shining in the light it whispered of glory yet it looked as if as an amber traffic light, indicating the driver to come to a stop. The parallels surprised me as the intoxication in the room heightened. I felt the pressure of this celebration drink mounting as each second ticked by. At least hundreds of people-all my friends- were either staring or playfully mocking my reluctance to try it. Yet on the outside, smiling and encouraged faces engulfed me as I held my birthday gift of glory.
“Lee, come y’all. Try a sippy!” some drunk in the cloud of happiness exclaimed.
My mouth hovered around the glass of melted gold and I smelt the perfume it emitted as it passed along each of the other’s lips. I wasn’t so sure. It would mean I would have to break the rules, and yet even on my birthday celebration I tended not to give in. And yet, on this night I didn’t want to disappoint those of my friendship group.
From a young age, I was nurtured under three disciplines: honour, tradition and respect for all those that this encompassed. Now, these three disciplines worked more like three solid tree trunks that branched out and seeped their roots deep into the minds of my ancestors and descendants. From these trunks came guidelines that were enforced into each household on every matter and detailed how a parent should respond to a specific problem (most likely created by their children) and what set punishments that the children would be subjected to if matters were taken too far. The leaves to this tree beared no fruit as the only perks were for the adults-the parents and children were not viewed as human beings before a legal age, and were seen but never heard. The demanding and dictatorship nature of family regime may anger others (at my age), but truth is they were all I had. We were a close knit family-not by choice-but by culture and thus this allowed us to branch out into so many others and welcome them into our humble abode. I felt they were always a part of who I was, no matter which top university I went to and no matter what friends I kept company with. Naturally, obedience was the primeval notion into which this hierarchy thrived -almost the sunlight and water-and thus I was “kept pure” as my classmates would say and would live a life with strict limitations. This included going to university, –Monash, might I add; my parents wanted be to be among other Asians and not attend a predominantly “white” Melbourne…they said it would make me feel at home…but I have my suspicions…-studying, tutoring and helping out with chores and other necessities of life. Never was I permitted to work late, go out with friends and let alone have a drink.
A stream of the melting gold flowed down my back as excited screams unleashed themselves from the others surrounding. Brining me back to the present, I realised that in my momentary daze some idiot had spilled a perfectly good wine on me. Maybe it was an act of provocation, but I sure as hell was not taking the bait. It was my birthday after all, and I wanted no misbehaviour from drunken adults who had no better judgement than a five-year old toddler.
“Come on Lee! Do it!” Sara encouraged as she placed a hand on my arm.
I smiled. Maybe it was this melted gold that had done wonders to her brain-forgetting she was already engaged.
I was not sure if I wanted to do it. My family had always looked for my best interests at heart, despite their unorthodox ways of going about it. Yet they provided in me a sense of self, a sense of who I was as a person. I realised in that moment that I was a watcher, and probably always will be. I possessed no hunger to stand up and challenge their ideals and assert my own perspective. I was comfortable in being a sheep, a part of their play. Sometimes it is not the chiefs who are in charge, but their followers. If seen from a different light and there were no followers… who would the chiefs boss around?
“Lee, are you going to have any? At least let go for one night, enjoy yourself. Tomorrow everything will be back to normal. Come on take a sip, love” she encouraged again, but this time with a slight hint of forcefulness. Looking into my eyes she came closer, moving her hand up the back of my neck and pressing it forwards towards her. I could smell the scents of alcohol interlaced with her own perfume I had become fond of. She seemed carefree, yet her other arm was placed firmly on my opposite hand, pressing hard for support I suspected she was stopping herself from collapsing to the ground.
But I stopped her. Taking her by the hands, I pulled away from her grip and led her towards the side of the room. Sitting her down, I fetched water for her and fished out some panadol that she might be in use of. She would thank me later.
My drunken friend who was responsible for the earlier outburst almost fell on top of me as he drowsily stumbled towards the door. Did I really want to have to forego all my parents have ever taught me, all their righteousness, all they believe in to be someone like that? To turn into something like that? Come tomorrow, and somebody else would have to remind him of the events of Lee’s 21st birthday.
It was not worth it. Yes, it was a new experience and something I should try, but it was not who I was. It is not who I am. I do not accept to be played at by some unseen force whose main ingredient was a ripened ethanol and various sweeteners. Letting myself go is important, but not by compromising everything I was taught, everything I believed in.
And yet when I cleared everyone out, and the place was empty-well, I would not say empty. I floor was covered with empty cans and littered with streamers, balloons, dropped food and glitter- I realised I have successfully achieved something. Standing out from the crowd, I had successfully not become madly drunk, whilst still maintaining that I had a good time and an enjoyable night. I had not followed the others, despite their pressures or assisted in Sara’s one-night-stand.
Hell, I was not a sheep no longer . I was a chief .
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