TAF Real World – Week #49 of 51

General consensus is that TAF helps us understand ourselves better. Subsequently, this also gives us insightful material when needing to write essays for English class/college admissions essays. [TAF is great for academic success!] Here’s Jason (YAY!) with an introspection piece. See you all in North Manchester, Indiana in FOUR WEEKS!


Yeh /yā/ (rhymes with hay. Same pronunciation as interjection yay.) n.
1. The root of all awful jokes generally following roll call or an introduction
2. My last name

I’ve always thought that names are an important aspect to someone’s sense of self. Without names, no one would have an identity. I imagine it would also be a lot tougher to buy Taylor Swift’s amazing new album on iTunes. There would also be absolutely no chance that a white person could identify the actual race of that one “Asian kid” without names. This belief has led me to question why the universe has decided to spite me by birthing me into a family with such a comically simple last name. I mean no disrespect or dishonor to my ‘fahmiry’; my family doesn’t get much better. Just there is this one little three-letter embarrassment. I am positively certain everyone has that single facet of themselves they absolutely dread. For some people, it could be a final exam that they “studied” for by watching the last five seasons of Entourage or a musical performance that was unprepared for (lip syncing actually isn’t considered an effective method of practice). Both actually apply to me, but they don’t even compare alongside introductions. Not just because I know I’ll manage to embarrass myself within twenty seconds of meeting someone, but because of the awkward single eyebrow and head cock I receive after introducing myself with, “Hello, I’m Jason Yeh. Nice to meet you.” It would be extremely rash for me to blame my current teenage unemployment to my last name, but I know I received an aforementioned eyebrow and head cock at a job interview at the local Dairy Queen. The unemployment is probably because my competition was a high honor roll and dance member at my high school. In retrospect, I wouldn’t have chosen me either. All of my teachers and coaches would even dish out similar eyebrows and head cocks upon learning that my last name was actually not several foreign car companies long.

Of course since then I have changed. I know there was no event of self-actualization found in movies. Accepting my last name has actually been disappointingly anti-climatic. Now, I don’t have to mumble through introductions with gibberish syllables after “Yeh.” Rather, it’s as if my brain tells me in the voice of Kanye West, “You is what you is.” I can take pride in what I am, and I know that has to mean a higher sense of maturity. At least that’s what I managed to rationalize the situation with. When that fails, I know that the jokes that follow my name aren’t as bad as some jokes that follow “Bing Wang.”

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