My roommates couldn’t hold back any longer
and confronted my mom.
“Mrs. Deakinson, we tolerated your staying
here, but why did you create this mess? Now
we’ve all been penalized because of you. How
are you going to take responsibility? ”
With her hands on her hips, my mom showed no
<
“You ungrateful kids, you’ve never cleaned the
dorm yourselves. I even give you snacks, and
now you want to abandon me over a little
trouble?”
My roommate didn’t back down, “Mrs. Deakinson, we can clean our dorm ourselves,
and we never ate your expired snacks. Please
leave our dorm! ”
Of course, my mom refused to leave.
She enjoyed the cheap meals from the
cafeteria, free lodging, and made a tidy profit
every month.
She wasn’t about to give that up.
So, she sat on the floor and cried.
She told my roommates how poor we were, how
my dad abandoned us for my sake, and how
<
33
7
she lost her job because of me.
My roommates were moved and even
apologized to us.
My mom won that round.
I advised her to stop the small business.
But she didn’t listen.
Instead, she added a new venture.
She started making snacks in the dorm.
She bought raw materials and made skewers
and sausages.
According to her, it was a lucrative business.
But she didn’t realize our dorm was filled with
the smell of her cooking, making it unlivable.
<
Everyone’s clothes smelled, and classmates
avoided us.
In time, my roommates couldn’t stand it
anymore.
84
When my mom tripped the dorm’s circuit
breaker for the umpteenth time and talked
about making roasted durian, my roommates reported her to the school.
I had mixed feelings.
I was scared of being punished but also hoped
the school would kick her out.
However, my mom put on a dramatic show.
She went to the principal’s office, looking
utterly worn out, and almost fainted from crying.
She told the principal about our poverty, the
<
3:42
struggles of a single mother raising a “dumb”
daughter who made it to NYU.
Eventually, the principal was moved.
One of my roommates had already decided to
move out.
So, the principal approved that bed for my mom, with clear conditions: no more electric
appliances and no more selling snacks.
9
My mom made a promise and cheerfully sold
that second–hand bed for another 10 dollars.
From that day on, she started coming and going
from our dorm with a new level of ease, no
longer needing to sneak around.
She became fast friends with the dorm
supervisor.
<
3:42
Since the school wouldn’t allow her to sell
goods, she spent her time chatting with the supervisor daily.
Through these chats, she landed a new job.
84
The supervisor mentioned that many local
eateries were hiring, so my mom gave it a shot
and actually landed a position.
She started her first job in the bustling city of
New York.
I often heard her calling friends back home,
bragging about how great life was here.
Whenever this happened, I could see my
roommates rolling their eyes.
With this new job, I felt a sense of relief.
Because she was out from early morning until
<
late at night, I no longer had to spend endless
hours facing her.
I began to relax.
Then, a guy from the student council caught my
eye.
He was incredibly kind to me, and it was
obvious he was interested.
But I had two hurdles in my mind.
One was a boy from middle school who still
lingered in my thoughts.
The other was my mom’s warning–no dating in
college, focus on studies, and aim for a grad
school spot at Yale.
Caught in this emotional tug–of–war, I was hot
and cold with the guy.
One day, after a student event, he gave me a
novel.
Sylvia Plath’s The Bell Jar.
He told me to read a bit before bed.
When I returned to the dorm and set the book
on my bed before heading to the bathroom.
My mom greeted me with a slap as soon as I
walked in.
She treated me like I was still in elementary
school scolding and hitting me.
The basin I was holding toppled, spilling my
toiletries everywhere.
Two roommates rushed in to break up the fight.
Mom raised her hand and slapped each of them.
3142
She opened the book and pulled out a letter.
“Who’s Ethan Parker? Didn’t you promise me
you wouldn’t date? Why is he writing you love
letters?
She shook the letter vigorously.
Terrified, I stammered, “Mom, I didn’t know
about the letter. I swear, I’m not dating anyone!
Mom grabbed the book and hit me on the head
with it
“Disgusting! How can you focus on your studies when you’re reading this trash? I’m going to the
principal right now to see what kind of low–life
students your school is admitting. Sending love
letters with such filth–this is what the new
generation of students has come to?”
447
Our dorm was packed with onlookers
My mind went blank
Someone started to argue with my mom.
“Mrs. Deakinson, your daughter is an adult now Why can’t she date? There are college students who marry and have kids. You’re being too overbearing!”
Mom snapped back
“You little ruthan, who do you think you are to
talle? ”
Mom drove off the onlookers and headed
downstairs will the book
I didn’t know what she was planning
I quickly called the guy and explained the
e poured toks pue possun pujar Ana
Unfortunately, we were both adults, no longer
easy to manipulate like children
9 099/j94 9 of p
on the school’s bulletin board!
jsou o porojsed pub bojo s prije potos
jo sus/op spon sus my Buoque jo posu
But we underestimated my mom’s wrath
our pousseren tot jus sum of
<
Meanwhile, I was stuck with my old middle
school nickname.
They started calling me “Monster” again.
84
Yes, “Monster” was the name they gave me, not my mom.
Everyone thought that, dealing with a mother like mine, who didn’t know how to fight back and still got slapped around as an adult.
I was nothing but a monster.
My first college romance was nipped in the bud before it even had a chance to grow.
I reverted to being the old Mary Deakinson from
high school.
I resigned from all my club activities and threw
myself into studying.
<
3:42
Every year, I earned top scholarships.
But besides my grades and my mom, I had
nothing else left.
Nothing left.
10
During my freshman winter break, my mom
insisted that I apply for on–campus
accommodation.
84
Since we didn’t have a house in our hometown
and the travel expenses were hefty, I stayed at
the dorm for the break.
Every day, I studied alone in the dorm while my
mom continued working.
She was worried about me.
She managed to get an old surveillance camera
from her boss and set it up in the dorm.
จะ
It connected to her phone, allowing her to keep
an eye on me around the clock.
She told me that her boss hired her partly because I was a NYU student.
The boss’s child was just an average student
and often asked her for advice on how to turn
an average kid into a top student.
My mom’s advice?
One word: “Beatings.”
She was quite proud of herself for this.
But I felt like she was becoming a stranger.
She gave birth to me and had been with me for
nearly twenty years.
<
Yet, it felt like I was getting to know her less
and less.
On Christmas’s Eve that year, we spent a quiet
evening in the dorm, eating roasted turkey
alone.
We didn’t have a TV, so we had to watch the
broadcast on a small phone screen.
There were songs, dances, and skits playing.
But I found the songs unappealing, the dances
uninspiring, and the skits unfunny.
When the Christmas Carols’s bells rang, I asked
my mom, “Mom, is this the life you wanted? ”
She replied, “Of course not. The life I want is
for you to get into Yale for graduate school.
Then I can finally hold my head high. ”
