Family Secrets
Author’s Note: Why I am writing this? Why me?
The complexities of living a double life — the double life of a first generation American, of how one can often feel at odds with themselves over the perfect act they display for their parents and their family and the rebellious, up-for-anything act they display for their friends.
a story of a .. a brooklyn russian jew whom engages in less than legal behavior to make himself money but it should all be over by the time he graduates from high school. once he is in college, he won’t deal anymore but first he has to get in to college and make sure he can afford it.
He has a choice to make — he can stay home and go to college in the city or he can do what he always wanted and leave
if he stays home and goes to school in the city, he is thinking he will continue dealing. if he goes away — what he always wanted since elementary school — he will get to start a new life, one where hopefully no one will know him or know his family as he will decide who he is and who he should be without his family clouding his ideas and purpose.
it’s not like his family is that bad but there is this weight that he feels to succeed, to succeed at everything he does in his life and to become someone important. maybe it’s the American dream: move to America, make a life comfortable for yourself and your family, and encourage your kids to strive for the best. what immigrant doesn’t have that dream? And, if the immigrant himself or herself cannot accomplish it, then the dream gets passed down to their kids. Their kids feel this pressure to succeed; to be someone important, someone worth something, someone whom their parents can be proud of and brag about — become anyone you want with focus and determination because you are in America and not the country your parents came out of. Focus and Determination. Hope comes later; after your determination and focus led you to become a doctor or a lawyer or a scientist or a financial analyst or an investment banker or anyone other profession that will give you a salary that will allow you to live a truly comfortable and luxurious life. Who cares if you burnout after and have to quit after you’ve made a name for yourself? Get the job first, make your money, and then burnout and quit when you’ve made a name for yourself and built up your savings account so you can live comfortably while you find what you really want to do?
Prologue: Backstory into why Dmitriy is who he is and gets involved in what he gets involved in.
Main character: Changed the name of the main character to something more common and less made up. Changed Steven Povolosov to Dmitriy Asher. Dmitriy is a more common Russian Jewish name. More common, the better.
“You have to do something with your life, Dima. You cannot do nothing. You should not skip school. You need to be somebody, somebody smart. You have got to go to school and be someone important.” My father always told me. I never knew why I had to do something. I am not the oldest. Maybe because I am a guy. Maybe he told me and my sisters the same thing. I say this now, because my older sister Anna is going into her second year of law school. She’ll just do things, and she won’t tell anyone until she knows exactly what she will do or when she has a choice to make that she cannot solve on her own. My sister is capable of doing anything she sets her mind to. She is going to be one hell of a lawyer and much more.
I do not think I was the only one that my father only told, “You have to do something with your life. You have to be somebody. You have to go to school and be someone important.” He tells us all. He tells me, my older sister Anna, and he told my younger sister Sofia that too. I don’t know if he created the pressure we feel to have to succeed in life, or if he just added to it, or if the pressure we feel was self-created. Maybe we did create it ourselves, if only to have it to drive us to succeed in our monotonous life of the children of two immigrant parents who work from morning to night. Struggling to give us a life in which possibility and opportunity is as available to us as water is.
He always asked, “Do you want to stay in south Brooklyn forever?” Your mother and I moved here because at the time it was a great place to move too. It was safe. It was a haven for us as immigrants, and you three are supposed to go to school, go to university, and get a career that takes you places.” My father was a good man and he always supported his family no matter what they needed. He always lets us know what we can and what we should do to do well in the world. He wants us to be successful in our lives. My father always says that he didn’t move away from the Soviet Union for his children to become nobodies. My mother agrees with that. There’s greater opportunity here, they always say. My mother constantly strives to further herself in her career with numerous certifications and licenses.
What there is here in America that there was not in the old country is hope. My sister memorized this line when she read Betty Smith’s A Tree Grows in Brooklyn. Of course, in A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, Francie’s maternal grandparents came from Germany and her paternal grandparents came from Ireland, not from the Russian Federation. But still … all 3 countries are the old country and there, “a man can be no more than his father, providing he works hard as in the old country, a man is given to the past.“ Here in America, ”despite of hard, unfamiliar things, there is hope; man belongs to the future; he may be what he will, if he has the good heart and the way of working honestly at the right things.”
This is what my sister told me when I had let her in my secret. Well, when technically she asked me about what I do first and I told her right there. When I had told my sister of my side hustle — my pharmaceutical business venture — my sister and I got into a conversation about our parents, their life in the Soviet Union, our life in America, and more. She told me of the line she somehow memorized and has to come to love when she read the book A Tree Grows in Brooklyn by Betty Smith. She had to read the book for school — she didn’t want to read it but once she got past the first three chapters, she could not put that book down. She finished it in about seven days, she told me. She probably would have finished her book sooner if she didn’t have any other work standing in the way like her chores, her homework, and her volunteer work.
If my parents are ever on the same page, it is on the fact that my siblings and I definitely need to do something with our lives; we need to go to school, get perfect grades (all A’s), get a near perfect SAT score, apply to colleges, and move up further. By move up further, I mean, that apparently according to our parents, we need to be in a profession that is traditional, that is favorable, and that is exceptional in society. Law and Medicine are the two professions that would be the most exceptional for us, apparently, as that is what our parents expect from us or at least what I believe they expect from us. What if we are not excited about either of these professions?
Because I don’t know if I want to go into law or medicine. I get near perfect grades in science class in school but it’s only because I truly have to study for science and I have to actually pay attention. Science is not really my thing and I can definitely live without it. All I really need to know is that the only place alcohol is a solution is in chemistry and that, one should never mix their liquors — never mix beer and vodka!
That’s going to be fun — telling my parents that I have no intention of going into medicine nor into law. I cannot go into law either for I am absolutely horrid at advocating for anything and I shutter to think of myself in a situation where I am forced to advocate for someone or something on an issue they truly care about. Besides, my older sister is in law school. I don’t think I need to be in law school, too. I wonder how they would feel if I stayed in school and went for a PhD, maybe in Mathematics. I wonder if they will mad. Hopefully, they would not care as there will be a lawyer in our family. My older sister is in law school so she’s going to be a lawyer. Hopefully, my parents will be satisfied with only my sister as the lawyer. Although, I don’t even know who I will be.
My father always tells that we have to do something with our lives and become something. I think he tells us this because there is not much that he has done. My father may only be an Uber driver but he is smart and he is good with the money he makes. Maybe, he was just always cheap with himself as he never seemed to buy himself anything new — never the latest in electronic devices nor the latest sneakers nor the finest clothes. I never knew if that was just who he was or if that was who he had to become when he and my mom started their family. My dad is that type of person; the type of person who would take a backseat in his life just to make sure that his family can be well taken care, so much so that safety and security two things that his family does not have to worry about as he does most of the worrying on such issues such as household expenses and the household. And, when I say “family,” I do not just mean me, my sisters, and my mother, I mean his whole family so his siblings, his parents, his nieces and nephews, if they ever need his help. My father was just that type of person, whom was always there for everyone who needed him. It was annoying at times because sometimes it felt like he cared more about everyone else than his own kids but I think I am beginning to understand now. He had to be there for everyone because if he didn’t show up, then who did?
That’s what he always said. That, “family may get annoying from time to time and it might take its toll on you but you cannot ever turn your back on family because if you can’t count on family, then who can you count on? Trust me, I understand the frustration. I do have siblings, too. We all might get annoyed by each other but in the end, we rely on each other in times of trouble, whether it’s emotional or financial. Be there for family whenever you can for you will never know when you will need your family by your side.”
My father, Edward Asher, is a smart and kind man. He can also be quiet and observant — two traits that my little sister, Sofia Asher, seemed to have inherited from him. My sister, Sofia Asher, was in high school; only starting high school. We were about three years apart. And, we were very similar in the way that we are both good in school but she’s quieter, sneakier, and more secretive. She’s the type of person who would leave and we would know nothing about anything that she did, if she didn’t tell us later. Basically, if she didn’t tell us anything, we wouldn’t have known anything. And, also, if she didn’t post on social media, we would know nothing. She’s smart. I think in a way, she is like our father. There is not much we know about our father except that he is an Uber driver and he is always there for his family. Although, my older sister Anna is the same, as well. We would know nothing about her if she didn’t tell us. And me, though. I have my own secrets, too.
I think my mother may be the only who doesn’t have any secrets. Or, maybe she does have a few things that she keeps to herself. She never talks about her work. She keeps her work at work. But, we do know what she does. She’s the office manager at a law firm — a law firm that specializes in personal injury and workers’ compensation, as well as some immigration law and real estate. I think, without her, the office wouldn’t run. She takes care of all that, that makes an office run. My mother is also a notary. She went online and found what she needed to do and just did it — she took the classes and took the tests she needed to, to become an official notary. She speaks four languages fluently. She learned English last yet, she speaks English impeccably. Well, she does have an accent but it’s not that noticeable that people would ask her few times to repeat herself — it’s noticeable enough that people might just ask her where she is from, originally. And, if there is anything she can do to boost herself in this world, she does it without question. Like my father, she works constantly but at least she has normal hours; she works a 9-5 with weekends off. She works and works. My father works and works. She’ll do anything she can to try to rise, even though she didn’t finish college.
They both work so their children wouldn’t have too, at least not why they are in high school. They always say, that when we are living with them and in school, then we do not have to worry about food or rent but once we are on our own, we are on our own, that’s it. They never ever said, that we couldn’t come back home. In fact they always tell us, that we will always have a home with them always, that if we ever need to come back home, we can.
My family is just like any other family. We talk about frivolous things, things that very often do not matter so we don’t have to say the truth of what we do.
That’s the family that we are — a secretive one. A family built upon secrets. We’re Soviet, what can I say? Well, technically I am not Soviet but my parents and their siblings are from the Soviet Union, the former Soviet Union. So, no, we are not Russian. We are Russian speaking but we are not Russian. What country my parents are from does not really matter. They are not really that nationality. In the Soviet Union, they were just Jewish and that was fine, sort of, except for the raging anti-semitism that ran through the entire nation. In America, they could not just be Jewish, which meant that we could not just be Jewish. In America, because my parents spoke Russian, they were Russian and we are Russian but we are not technically Russian and my parents may be from Azerbaijan but they are not Azerbaijani as Azerbaijani typically describes a person of the Islamic religion. So, Soviet might be a more apt description if we are not Russian or Azerbaijani to describe our nationality. And, if we can, we’ll just say we are Jewish so as to keep our answer short and to the point. The only thing that will suck is if someone asks us, no, not your religion but your nationality? Maybe, Kavkaz. Kavkaz is the term typically identified with the nation of Gorsky Jews, whom came from the Caucus Mountain region.
Soviet Jews have been accustomed to harsh conditions and hatred in the former Soviet Union from the Russian overlords so once they come to America, they are enamored with the sense of freedom they have — the opportunities, the money, the options. But, there is a discipline that needs to be had for them. They never had so many opportunities before and so when they come here, they teach their children (that would be me, Dima) discipline, hard-work, focus, and the importance of having a job and being smart — not intelligent, but clever. Although, intelligence is important too just it is good to have smarts, street smarts not just books smart. Know how to behave in a room full of people you barely know rather than just knowing how to behave in a library with your head in a book. Know how to behave in your classroom at school and know how to behave during recess. Do not be rowdy and offensive; be the good student who always does the work, never offend anyone, never pull anyone’s hair, never give the teacher a reason to send you the principal’s office to have your parents called because then your parents might have to leave work early. You have to be good and you have to follow the rules. At least, that is what our parents have taught us and how our parents should always see us because otherwise, we have probably disgraced them.
Our parents can never know the truth of who we are and what we do. They have to believe we are perfect and yet, in all actuality, we are anything far from perfect as we smoke, we drink, we get in to trouble with the law. At least, I think we do. Some probably don’t. We would do anything to try to fit in and be American, not Russian nor Jewish nor Soviet, just American. We won’t be the ones to bring our weird food with us in public; it’s only for family. No one’s going to know that we eat “tongue” or “herring under a fur coat” or “Russian-style burgers” or “borscht” or “meat stuffed in grape leaves” or anything else that I might find on the table at a celebration for someone in my nuclear and extended family or on a holiday.
Sometimes fitting in means doing things are at times less than legal. These things are often kept in the shadows. What would we tell anyone this? Why would I tell anyone if I’m doing something that is less than legal? My sister wouldn’t say anything either.
Why would I tell anyone? Why would I tell anyone I engage in anything but legal affairs?
My parents don’t need to know but I did tell them. My older sis does not need to know but she did find out and I told her. Besides, I am sure she engages in a few of the same activities as me and she’s in law school. Talk about perfect. She’ll be the lawyer in the family. We are a family but we are a family that just exists to exist. We do not really do any of that familial bonding like game night or dinner as we all get home at different hours either because of work or school or extracurricular activities. At most, we do birthday celebrations together and that’s that. We have a birthday dinner as a family and then we are all free to do our own thing, whatever that may be. Our secrets hold us together and keep us in line. We are not the type to blurt anything out. If we blurt something out, it’s small and stupid and it keeps others off our backs.
We all have our secrets and we don’t share everything that’s going on in our lives. We keep our secrets to ourselves to be safe, I guess, or maybe it’s because we are afraid of letting our family see us for who we really are. We are afraid of the judgement that we will probably receive. We are from the Soviet Union. We’re a judgmental brood. And, Soviets, forget about it. Judgement oozes from all of them. But, they’re not all terrible. They are some good things about Soviet Jews. Like, they are truly supportive of all business ventures, especially if they make money. There’s an appreciation for business, especially for hustling. That could be because in the Soviet Union, hustling was a part of life and one had to hustle, haggle, negotiate, to make money to provide for the family. So, if the children partake in that sort of thing, it would be good because it makes them see that apparently their American-born children are street smart, not just book smart, and do not just get straight A’s with one or two B’s.
Having a business is great, at least that’s what I am hoping will be understood.
But, will it support you and the lifestyle you want?
Will it give you the income you desire? Why don’t you get your degree in medicine or law or something first and then go into business?
These are just some of the questions that would be asked by my parents or any other immigrant parent from the Soviet Union. Questions may be asked but having a business and being successful at it is usually considered a good thing to Soviet families, hopefully to mine as well.
Business is held in high regard in our family, at least I think it is. If you could start your own business and keep it, then you’re golden, at least that’s what I’m hoping for. I never once thought that I would have my own business, well not on my own. My friend and I are partners. When the time comes to tell my family of my entrepreneurial side, I wonder how they would react? Business was never supposed to be the thing I go into as it was always supposed to be education.
I still plan on continuing my education. I do plan on going to university, most likely the university that is in the Northeast, if not in New York. I’m probably not going to study medicine or science as I utterly detest science and medicine not to say that they are not good, only to mention that I just don’t like those subjects, those areas of expertise. I have always liked math. I might study math even though that might make me the total cliche of a Soviet/ Russian Jew. As the famous opinion says, Russians are notoriously great at math. And, I do like math and I like solving problems. Math problems are perhaps the easiest problems that can ever be solved as the problems we have in life are often incredibly difficult. And, I like solving for x. I like solving for y. I do like math. But, I do wonder what my parents would say, when I tell them I am majoring in mathematics? Would they be angry? Would they tell me to think about computer science or accounting instead? Or, would they be totally okay with my decision to major in mathematics so long as I tell them, that I do have a conclusive plan that always has me doing something and provides a livable income? Maybe I should stop doing what I want to do and just do what they want me to do despite my reservations. I won’t be happy but they will be happy. My parents happy. Now, there’s an oxymoron in the world of American-born children to Soviet parents.
Besides, my future choice of majors at university, there is also the extracurricular activity I picked up for my last year of high school. The extracurricular activity did put a little extra money in my pocket, got me out of school, and out in the world, meeting new and interesting people. This activity — this business I picked up — is not of the legal nature and it borders around the illegal.
It is one that I thought would open me to new opportunities and get me out in the world and out of school because for my whole life, all I have ever cared about was school. This business gave me something I never knew I needed — a lifeline, something to care about, something that brought me out into the actual world of people and not just the world that exists in school and books. I never told my parents about my business venture when I started. It is just one of the secrets I kept to myself. I never knew how to explain it. Honestly, I was a little afraid. My parents did not come to America so their only son could be a salesman of medicinal herbs unless of course, that son decided to be a pharmacist, at least that is how it seems to me, in my head.
I should tell them. I need to tell them. Some secrets should not remain secrets even if it means withstanding on some punishments and some screaming.
How would it go, though?
How would my family react when I tell that my business is in selling medicinal herbs? Would they be angry? Would they secretly admire me in my ability to go into a faulty business and make money? Admiration might be a long shot — a dream, in fact. They could be impressed. Impressed, only if I never got in trouble with the law. My parents wouldn’t have to know that part though. If ever I did get in trouble with the law, my parents will not know about it. It would only cause unnecessary worry. I would only tell them if the situation requires it, like if I need to call someone to post my bail.
When the time comes for my secret to come out — when all our secrets to come out — I do hope that we can all be okay and learn to accept all of us with the new things we have learned. Acceptance, all that matters. Luckily, there’s enough love in our whole family to go around. There’s not enough acceptance of certain trades, professions, or anything really, however.
I guess, that’s probably what frightens me as it frightens my siblings too — not being accepted. It’s okay if we’re not understood. We don’t understand our family sometimes either. We just don’t want to feel like we are not accepted, that we are not welcome.
It’s not about what my parents want. It’s not about what makes them happy. It’s about what makes me happy and what I want to do and if they cannot accept me for me, then that’s on them. Of course, I want to make my parents proud and I want them to happy but not at the cost of my life. I do not want to do anything that I find detestable. When I find something that makes me happy, I will do it and if my parents cannot accept that, then I guess that my career would just be one more secret that I keep from them. I will keep my career a secret, if they do not like it, if they do not accept it. Just add it to the double life that I have lived since I was a teenager and the double life that I have yet to live, just because my parents or my extended family cannot accept the real me, only the ‘perfect’ me that I am when I am with them only.
Here goes nothing.
No, it’s nothing. It just feels like it is. It all could be nothing. Who knows? I’m definitely not the first Soviet Jew to venture into a profitable business market in medicinal herbs. At least I don’t think I am. I’m pretty sure the guy who was ahead of me in school (either in my school or some other Brooklyn high school as there are many) also sold.
So here we go, the year I found my way into business field and sold medicinal herbs to anyone who wanted to purchase.
Introduction
There are complexities of living a double life. The double life of a first generation American often leaves one feeling at odds with themselves over the perfect act they display for their family and the rebellious, up for anything act they display for their friends. This is a story of a Brooklyn Russian Jew who engages in less than legal behavior to make himself money, but it should all be over by the time he graduates from high school. Once he is in college, he won’t deal drugs anymore, but he has to get into college first. And he has to make sure he can afford his dream university. He has a choice to make: either he can stay home and go to Brooklyn College, or he can do what he always wanted to do and leave Brooklyn. If he stays home and goes to school in the city, he will most likely continue to deal drugs. If he goes away – what he always wanted since elementary school – he will get to start anew where no one will know him nor his family. He will be able to decide who he is and who he should be without his family clouding his ideas and purpose. His family is not bad, but there is this weight that he feels to succeed at everything he does with his life. He has to be someone important. Maybe it’s the American dream of moving to America, making a comfortable life, and encouraging your kids to strive for the best. What immigrant doesn’t have that dream? If the immigrant himself or herself cannot accomplish it, then the dream gets passed down to their kids. Their kids feel this pressure to succeed, to be someone important, someone worth something, and someone who their parents can be proud of and brag about. Become anyone you want with focus and determination because you are in America, and you are not in the country your parents came from.
Focus on what you want, and with determination you can get there. Hope comes after you become a doctor, a lawyer, a scientist, a financial analyst, investment banker, or any other profession that will give you a salary to let you live a comfortable and luxurious life.
Who cares if you burn out and have to quit after you’ve made a name for yourself? Get the job first, make your money, and once you’ve built up your savings to live comfortably, you can quit to find your niche. Of course, if your niche is working, do not quit.
Chapter 1
“You have to do something with your life, Dmitriy. You cannot do nothing. You should not skip school. You need to be somebody useful in society. You have got to go to school and become someone important,” my father always told me. I never knew why I had to do something. I am not the oldest. Maybe it is because I am the only son, or maybe he did tell my sisters and I the same thing. I say this now because my older sister Anna is going into her third year of law school. I do not believe law school was ever her dream, but she went anyway. In my opinion, my sister is capable of completing anything she sets her mind to. She is going to be one hell of a lawyer if that is what she wants.
My father, Simeon Asher, did not just tell me to be someone useful in society. My father told all his children: me, my older sister Anna, and my younger sister Sofia. I don’t know if he created the pressure we feel to have to succeed in life, or if he just added to it the pressure we created for ourselves. We probably did create it for ourselves, if only to have it drive us to succeed in our monotonous life as the children of two immigrant parents who work morning till night. Our parents did the best they could to give us a life in which possibility and opportunity are readily available to us like water.
My father always asked, “Do you want to stay in South Brooklyn forever? Your mother and I moved here because it is safe. It is a haven for us immigrants, but you three are supposed to go to school, to a university, and find a career that takes you places.” My father is a good man. He always supports his family no matter what we need. He always lets us know what we can and should do. He wants us to be successful in our lives. He always says that he didn’t move away from the Soviet Union for his children to become nobodies. My mother agrees with that. There’s a greater opportunity here, they always say. My mother, Alina Asher, is constantly striving to be better. My mother may only work at a personal injury law firm, but she works there as the office manager and public notary. What there is here in America that there was not in the old country is hope, and I think that is what my parents mean when they say greater opportunity. My little sister memorized these lines when she read Betty Smith’s A Tree Grows in Brooklyn. Of course, in A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, Francie’s maternal grandparents came from Germany, and her paternal grandparents came from Ireland. They did not come from the Union of Soviet Socialists’ Republic (U.S.S.R). However, all three of these countries can be considered the old country, and in the old country, “a man can be no more than his father, provided he works hard. In the old country, a man is given to the past.” Here in America “despite hard, unfamiliar things, there is hope. Man belongs to the future. He may be what he will be if he has the good heart and a way of working honestly at the right things.”
This is what happened when I let her in on my secret. She asked me what it is I do, and instead of lying to her, I told her the truth. I told her that I provide products. I sell marijuana to people my age or older. “I do not sell to anyone younger than me,” I told her, “only seniors in high school and older.” She told me about a line from A Tree Grows in Brooklyn. It is a book she did not think she would love, but she does. She was given a copy of the book in her high school English class. In the beginning, she said, the book was not exciting, but once she got past the first three chapters, she could not put it down. It took her a month to read it. It could have been sooner, but she kept having to put her book down to clean the house, do homework, or volunteer. When she finished, she bought her own copy of it. My little sister started her own library already. She’s only 14, but her room’s getting a bit crowded with the likes of Francie Nolan, Holden Caulfield, Go Ask Alice, Elie Weisel, Percy Jackson, Harry Potter, the Pevensie siblings, and more.
“Brooklyn’s not such a terrible place,” Sofia said, “or maybe this book just developed in me a romantic idea of Brooklyn. Brooklyn is not so bad. A nation of immigrants makes it what it is.” Sofia then recited a quote she memorized from A Tree Grows in Brooklyn: “Brooklyn… It’s a magic place and it’s not real.” Brooklyn is only a place. It is not a home, I gathered.
If my parents are ever on the same page, it is about the fact that my siblings and I need to do something with our lives. We need to go to school, get good grades, get near perfect SAT scores, apply to colleges, and climb the career ladder further than they did. Oh, and we need to get married and have a family because apparently if we don’t have a family of our own, then it’s a disgrace or something. There are two traditional professions that are favorable and exceptional in our family. Those two professions are law and medicine. Our parents have high expectations of us. They believe we three can actually be doctors and lawyers. But what if we are not excited about either of these professions?
I don’t know if I want to go into law or medicine. These professions do not excite me. I get near-perfect grades in science, but it’s only because I am obligated to study for science, and I have to pay attention. Science is just not my favorite, and it is not fun for me, so I ruled out medicine for my future career path. All I need to know is that the only place alcohol is a solution is in chemistry! And of course, one should never mix their liquors. I learned that lesson when I mixed my liquors when a friend of mine threw a party last year during the January regents exam break. I drank a few beers, a few shots of vodka, tequila, and some more beer. The next morning, I did not wake up feeling so great.
I’ve ruled out law as well. I don’t want to read so much. I am not in the mood to ruin my eyesight. I’ve met the lawyers at the firm my mother works in, and all three of them wear glasses. Mr. Pavlov, Mrs. Tabachova, and Mr. Melad all said they had to start wearing their glasses when they were in law school. Call me selfish but I don’t feel like losing my eyesight in my 20’s. Also, I shudder to think of myself in a situation where I am forced to speak on behalf of someone on an issue they truly care about. It might help that my older sister Anna is in law school. I don’t need to be in law school as well. Telling my parents that I do not intend to go into medicine nor law — now that’s going to be a fun conversation.
I wonder how they would feel if I went for a Ph.D. in Mathematics. I wonder if they would be mad. The conversation with my parents about my future studies is a piece of cake compared to the conversation I will need to have with them about the recent business venture I have gotten into. My parents will probably have more of an issue with the business I have chosen than the future studies I will plan to take.
How would my parents react when I tell them that I sell herbal remedies? I cannot say, “I am a drug dealer,” or should I just come right out with it? I should try to put a positive spin on my business. I could say that I am in pharmaceutical sales. It is similar. My job title is illegitimate pharmaceutical sales representative. That ought to keep things official, sort of, because the word “illegitimate” in my job title throws people off, but what can I do? I can’t actually say, “I am a pharmaceutical sales representative” because I am not. Really though, what’s the difference between a drug dealer and a pharmaceutical sales rep? There is a difference in clientele, sure. Drug dealers work for themselves. Pharmaceutical sales reps are most likely independent contractors working with pharmaceutical companies.
Maybe I should tell my parents that I am thinking of becoming a pharmacist, or I could tell my parents that I plan on opening up my own store where I sell items like marijuana, edibles, CBD, and other drugs once such products are no longer considered contraband. There are so many career options to choose from. Hopefully, my parents will not be too angry with my future career choices because my sister is in law school, and they can count that as success. Hopefully, my parents will be satisfied with my choices about my future career because I don’t know what I want to do.
I think my father tells us “to make something of ourselves” because he has not done much for himself with his life. My father may only be a driver, but he is smart. He knows how to save, how to invest, and rarely ever spends money on himself. Any money my father makes goes straight into his savings. Savings he sets aside for a rainy day. I have never seen my father buy himself anything new like electronic devices, sneakers, or fancy clothes. I never know if that is just who he is, or if that is who he had to become when he married my mother, and they moved to America. My dad is the type who takes a backseat in his own life only to make sure that his family can be well taken care of. Also, safety and security are two things that my father does not want his children to worry about, so he does most of the worrying about those things himself, and he does his best to keep the family’s finances secure. When I say family, I do not just mean my sisters, my mother and I. I mean his whole entire family, which includes his siblings and his parents. No matter what, my father is always there for everyone who needs him. Personally, I can be selfish. If there is anyone in my family I care about besides myself, it is only my two sisters. Otherwise, I do not care. If only I were like my father.
Sometimes though, I feel like my father cares more about his job, his siblings, and his parents than his own kids, but I think I am beginning to understand him better. He had to be there for everyone because if he was not there, then who would be? He told me once on a morning car ride to school:
“Family may get annoying, and they take their toll on you, but you cannot ever turn your back on your family. If you can’t count on family, then who can you count on? Trust me, I understand the frustration. I have siblings, too. We all might get annoyed with each other, but in the end, we rely on each other in times of trouble. Whether it’s emotional or financial, be there for the family whenever you can because you will never know when you will need your family by your side.”
My father is a smart, kind, quiet, and observant man. These are four traits that my little sister Sofia seems to have inherited from him. Sofia just finished her first year of high school. We are about three years apart, and we are similar to each other. We both do well in school, but her grades are definitely better. Sofia is quieter, sneakier, and has more secrets. She’s the type of person who could leave for hours, and we would not know where she went. The only way we would know anything is if she decides to tell us. There’s really no other way to find out unless we invade her privacy and check her planner. But there’s no point in doing that. Sofia will not let us in on her life until after she completes her tasks and receives her results. Luckily, she posts a few things on Instagram, so we do get to keep tabs on her that way.
Sofia knows how to keep a secret, and she can definitely keep her mouth shut, but sometimes it seems as though she does not want to keep quiet. Maybe one day she will want to shout out every thought in her mind from the rooftops with a megaphone, but for now she’ll shut herself up. She keeps herself locked inside herself. I think that in a way our father and Sofia are very similar. There is not much we know about our father except that he is an Uber driver, and he is always there for his family. My sisters Sofia and Anna are the same. We would know nothing about them if they didn’t tell us. I have my own secrets too.
I think my mother may be the only one who doesn’t have any secrets. She might have a few things that she keeps to herself. She never talks about her work or her coworkers. She’s an office manager at a law firm that specializes in personal injury and workers’ compensation, and that’s all I know. Sofia has on occasion met with my mom at her office and so has Anna. I have never really cared to see Mom at work.
From what my sisters have said, Mom is kept pretty busy at work. She is kept so busy that the office would probably not run without her. My mother is a notary public as well. To become a notary public, she went online to find what she needed to do and studied the seventeen pages that explain the job. Then she took the exam, passed, and received her certification. She speaks four languages fluently: English, Russian, Azerbaijani, and Farsi. My mom learned English when she came to America, and she speaks it impeccably. She does have an accent, but it’s not so noticeable that people constantly ask her to repeat herself. However, her accent draws the attention of some people who might ask her where she is from. She used to hate being asked that question. Where are you from? Now, my mother does not care as much when she is asked that question because she realized that sharing her nationality with people helps her make sense of how she fits into American culture, and it helps her make new friends.
If there is anything she can do to boost herself in this world, she does it without question. Like my father, she works constantly, but at least she has normal hours. She works 9 am – 5 pm with weekends off. However, my mother sometimes works as late as 8 pm. As an Uber driver, my father works for himself, and he works at any time of the day or night seven days a week. My mom tries to do anything she can to do well in America. She went to community college in Sheepshead Bay and received her Associate’s Degree in Paralegal Studies.
They both work so their children do not have to work, at least not while they are still in high school. My parents always say that while we are living with them and still in school, we do not have to worry about groceries, rent, utility bills, or anything else, but once we are on our own, we are on our own. However, Mom and Dad never said that we would not be able to come home. They once said, “we will always have a home with us and if you need to come back home you can.”
My family is just like any other family. We talk about frivolous things. When we are together, we would turn on a movie, a comforting sitcom, or anything to stamp out the silence. We have to fill the awkwardness in our house. We fill it not with our words, but with the television blaring in the background.
About the Author
Rebecca Blyakher is an aspiring writer who resides in Brooklyn, New York. She has managed Instagram accounts for non-profit organizations such as Families for Sensible Drug Policy (@ourfsdp) and the New Paltz Chapter of Students for Sensible Drug Policy (@newpaltzssdp). She is currently running the Instagram account for Believe NY (@BelieveNY), a not for profit organization that seeks to connect people in New York City to resources such as housing, food, clothing, or counseling needed to survive and thrive. Besides writing tell-all pieces on her community of Brooklyn Russian Jews, she is currently studying for an insurance license so she can become a benefits care representative.
