My dad, a bit exhausted from a long day of work, announced from the basement, “We’re leaving!” My mom, my two younger sisters, and I rushed to the driveway, where my sister was in the car. All of her things were packed in the back of the car and she was ready to leave. Each of us took turns saying our goodbyes and reminded her to visit often. My dad started the car, which roared at us. Engine smoking, he backed out of the driveway. Quietly sobbing, my mother stood there and knew that one of her daughters had already grown up. When the car was out of sight, we all stood there for a moment. Almost zombie-like, we reluctantly walked into the house, while the warm summer breeze blew against us. I sat on my brown leather couch and felt myself sinking in it. I thought of how different it would be without my sister, Beatriz, who had left for college. The house would be quieter, without her loud music nearly destroying everyone’s ear drums and our arguing. I would have a room to myself and have her old laptop to myself. Being in seventh grade, I thought that the chunky old dinosaur she called a laptop was fantastic. Overall, I thought being the oldest sister in the house would be carefree and simple. Little did I know what happened behind the scenes…

Ate Bea’s (‘Ate’ is Filipino for big sister) had spent a year in college growing and morphing into an intelligent, independent woman. She was now a sophomore in college and I was in the eighth grade. My simple, carefree life came to an abrupt hault. My mom, who is generally the peace keeper of the family, put the most pressure on me than she ever had that year. It was as if I was a submarine; still operating, but withstanding the ocean’s pressure. I had to get straight A’s in school, otherwise I would be punished. I had to make sure that I had my priorities straight: school comes first, then hobbies and after school activities. Infuriated with my mother, the stress continued to build. My mother continued to put pressure on me. In the blink of an eye, my submarine crashed and I began to question her. In the Philippines, it is frowned upon in our culture to disrespect your parents and any form of back talk is punishable. In America, some small forms of back talk are not punishable.

My eighth grade year went on and my parents started to brag about how hard Ate Bea worked. They could talk for decades about how smart Ate Bea was. Every time they said her name, it marched right into my ears and sat on a throne. One weekend, she came home to visit. I observed that her schedule was an over-grown jungle of weeds. Although it was winter break, she still had to write essays, analyze books, and study for tests. It was a bit of an eye opener to see how hard she worked. I realized my parents wanted me to be as good of a role model as she was. I became more motivated when I saw how eager and interested my little sisters, Bernice and Alysse were. Every time Ate Bea sat down, Bernice was like a puppy. She sat with her legs crossed in front of her, while her eyes watched Ate Bea eagerly, as if she was a treat. I wanted to be the same for my sisters.

In the future, I hope that Bernice and Alysse will view me as I viewed Ate Bea. I viewed her like she was the Statue of Liberty; her heart burning with a fire of passion and confidence. I want to make sure that I am the independent woman looking down on them, guiding them every step of the way. I have to the statue that reminds them that responsibility comes with a price. With my torch held high, I want them to remember, overall, that I love and care for them.