1) “Results do not matter.” The room was dimly lit. There were four of us and I was spinning around in her swivel chair. Round. Round. Round. With each turn, I could see half of her face. It was 3am and I felt silly. Spinning in this chair. But the air had a more somber tone. We were reflecting. Or, as friends of 9 years, we were just “talking about random stuff”. You could only have these conversations at 3 am. Silly but terribly real. Her voice interrupted, “You know…”, her voice broke. “What?” my other friend asked. I stopped spinning. I could now see her entire face. Her eyes were cast downward as her lips were turned in a frown. Something had been bothering her and 3am seemed to give her permission to finally divulge. “I know this is stupid. But I never gotovernotgettingintoMichigan,” she blurted out. “Really?” I leaned forward and drew my hand out in an act of comfort. She was sitting at least five feet away but I felt that the action wouldn’t be futile. The window into my friend’s feelings had been opened. I needed to react. I had not expected this. She nodded and took a deep breath. “Yeah, I know it’s stupid. But I never really got over it. It was a shock to me you know… when I got that rejection email. And I mean, I’m happy now. But, I can’t help but think.

What would it have been like if I gotten in? Would I have been happier?” The other two remained silent as their minds stirred with what they’ve just heard. That’s the thing with 3 am conversations. The fuzziness suddenly leads to feelings that were sharp and point-on all along. I cleared my throat and said, “Hey, honestly, it doesn’t matter now. And, at the end of the day, who fucking cares what school you go to? You’re fabulous. You’re brilliant. You’re…” Damn, 3 am had failed me. I couldn’t figure out what word I would say next. What would convince her? I wanted her to realize how silly her insecurity was and how she should stop trailing it with her (after 4 years). She interrupted again. “Yeah but I’ll always wonder, you know? Don’t worry, I’m happy. Let’s talk about something else, okay? Did I tell you what ridiculous thing my mother said the other day?” The frown had turned into a small smile and her gaze locked with mine. She was imploring me to stop by trying to lighten the mood. But her eyes were dark and held residues of seriousness. The things she had just said weren’t a joke. But the window had slammed shut. Her face turned away and I returned to seeing half of her face in the dim light. For a few minutes, I had peered into the insecurity of a best friend. I started to spin.

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Things my mother tells me…

By Veena Katragadda

2) “Treat others how you want to be treated.”

75% of school shootings are linked to harassment and bullying against the shooter.

83% of girls and 79% of boys have reported being bullied in school or online.

1.3 million women are victims of domestic abuse every year. This statistic is just for the U.S.

29.8 million people continue to suffer under slavery today.

3) “Family always comes before money.”

My pen scratched across the page. I sighed. The extensive drawing of my family tree was almost complete but only my grandmother could help finish it. I quickly turned to see her face. All my other sources had pointed to my grandmother for this part of the family tree. She would know, they all said. This remark made the situation appear fishy. I had a foreboding sense that there was more to this family tree than I realized. And, as a result, the anticipation was killing me. I looked at my grandmother again. With the second glance, my grandmother had finally looked up from her magazine. “Hmm, what do you have there?” she asks as she walks closer to the desk. “I just needed to know the names of these third cousins. Dad said that he didn’t remember,” I pointed. I looked up from the page to meet my grandmother’s gaze.

But her gaze didn’t align to where I was pointing. Instead, she was looking at another part of the family tree. She sniffs. “You’re missing someone here.” I furrowed my eyebrows. I looked up. “Really?” She sniffs again. “Your grandfather had another brother.” “Wait. What? Really? Why don’t I know about him?” I looked down at the family tree. What had appeared to be so complete, now seemed to sag with a gaping hole. A third cousin could be forgotten but my father’s uncle? In my family’s standards, that was a pretty direct relation. Courtesy to my parents, I had already met every family member up to many third cousins. Apparently, I hadn’t met everyone. My grandmother had fell silent after my questions. I looked to my grandmother’s face to push for an answer but her face was blank. “Is he dead? Why doesn’t anyone talk about him?” I countered in an attempt to push her towards answering. She broke out of her trance and cleared her throat. “Well, right after your grandfather died, there were some fights between your grandfather’s sister, brother and this brother. There were some things said and now we don’t really talk to them.” “So, that’s it. We just never talk to him.” I raised my eyebrow and looked to my grandmother for confirmation. I never imagined my family to be that dramatic. Immediately, I imagined my family shouting at each other in a “Godfather”-esque scene:

Grandmother: What is going on here?

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[Shouts and screams everywhere}

Great-Uncle [speaking to my just-discovered other Great-Uncle in a booming voice]: Never take sides against this family.

Just Discovered Great-Uncle [angrily standing with a chicken head in his hands]:I will if I wake up with this in my cot.

[Shouts and screams are thrown across the room. Shots were fired. The origin of the gun is unknown.]

Great-Uncle [shouting]: GO! Leave the gun and take the samosas. [Just Discovered Great-Uncle leaves with a flourish, but doubles back to take the bowl of samosas.]

I blinked and returned to reality. Unless I had been dangerously hoodwinked, I knew there was no way my family was part of some South Indian mafia mob. But my questions only increased. What was this brother like? Did he look like my grandfather? Was he funny? Was he arrogant? My grandmother nodded. “We might get a phone call from him once a year, or so. But that’s it. I need to go check on the curry on the stove. I’ll be back.” I looked back at my chart. The third cousins were forgotten. I needed to know why my seemingly close-knit family would leave a whole brother out of the picture. “Wait!”, I called. She stopped in her tracks and turned around to face me.

“What did they fight over?” I asked. What could possibly make my family not talk to this person? “It was over some money and property.”

4) “Appearances aren’t everything.” “How much make-up should I wear to

a job interview?” a voice squeaked from the third row. The surrounding girls in the room craned their necks to see where the question had originated from. The professor nodded in response. Her mouth was curved in a half-smile. This question wasn’t a question when the answer is on the tip of your tounge. “Hmm, never too much. Enough that it won’t make you too noticeable.” She replied as her eyes landed on various students in an attempt to grab their attention. It was pertinent that everyone would hear this last part of her answer, “And, ladies, research shows that women who wore make up were more likely to get the job than women who didn’t.” She starts walking back to her original position in the classroom. Girls whispered behind their hands as murmurs began to cover the room.

Was it true?

Did she just say that?

Why isn’t Beyonce making a song about this?

The professor sighs and shrugs. This jaded answer never came easy.

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“It’s a shame but it’s true. Next question.” 5) “Hard work always leads

to success.” 75% of entrepreneurs fail.

It was ready. The small car would be able to start and stop by itself with only a push of a

button. It was after hours of work and days of worry. This car would give me the top prize in the science olympiad competition. I could see myself walking away with the gold medal swinging around my neck. It just needed one more trial run. I pushed the button. The car didn’t start. I pushed it again. It didn’t work. I got next to last place.

Things my mother should tell me… 1) The results matter. 2) Do not expect to be treated how you want to be treated. 3) Money can come before family. 4) Appearances could mean everything. 5) Never expect success even if you have worked hard

Things I will tell my child… 1) Results do not matter. 2) Treat others how you want to be treated. 3) Family always comes before money. 4) Appearances aren’t everything. 5) Hard work always leads to success.

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