earned privileges

and perhaps the costs of earning them

March 23, 2026

There's an ineffable sort of lull associated with the warmth and buzzing stillness amid the San Gabriel Valley suburbs of Los Angeles. Far enough from the action of entertainment or industry, both culturally and geographically. I remember this slowness from last summer and all summers before, spent in the bedroom I lived and slept in during my high school years. Meditate deeply, and there are whiffs of both last year's job anticipation and the La La Land soundtracked honeymoon phase of the year before. It's not summer, but it certainly feels like it to me.

It's difficult to distinguish where precisely this mentality comes from, but I've been grappling with the sense that perhaps I am failing some sort of self-inflicted immigrant imperative by pursuing what I want. How unfortunate, as some might believe, that my heart and soul lies with the arts and humanities rather than financially-driven fields that, by extension, enjoy a higher societal statuses. Respected and stable. A herald of upwards social mobility.

PhD students aren't paid well. Much less humanities PhD students. And yet the PhD candidates in my life are either in STEM or have financially abundant families. Although my parents have given me their full support when I revealed my intentions to apply for a musicology PhD program, I was hardly reassured. Why, yes, my parents are incredibly kind to offer their support and I am exceedingly privileged, compared to many other Asian daughters, to be able to pursue this path, but I am a second generation daughter of immigrant business owners. Should I have to be a "safety" or "buffer" generation who values money for the sake of providing the next generation the privilege I don't feel worthy of?

I typed that sentence to an astonished realization: I don't fully believe that I deserve to pursue my dreams. I don't feel unequivocally worthy of that privilege. Because I am not the daughter of a doctor or lawyer or engineer, and nor did I decide to become a doctor or lawyer or engineer -- so I didn't earn that privilege. But that's the point! How ludicrous that must be! If the process of earning that privilege means giving it up entirely, or at least for the majority of the most formative years of my life, what does it matter?