Michelle Obama’s memoir has been resonating with me on many levels. I’ve already cried three times, and I’m only halfway through. Though we come from different backgrounds (racially, geographically, economically), I am still able to see my own experiences within her experiences. In the part of the book where she discusses her childhood, she writes about her grandpa “Dandy” – the perpetually disgruntled patriarch, whose ill-tempered actions the rest of her family tolerates and condones.  Unlike the rest of her submissive family, young plucky Michelle confronts Dandy about his grumpy attitude. She later finds out from her mom about Dandy’s painful past and his deep-seeded discontent regarding the racial obstructions to his life’s dreams, despite his intellect and abilities.  Dandy was smart enough to be a professor, but later lowered his expectations to be a technician, but even that was infeasible. Michelle later elaborates on this story (in her conversation with Oprah), where she speaks to the unshakable pain that many older generation African-Americans carry with them (especially those who are notably gifted and talented), because of their inability to fulfill their potential.

As I read about Dandy, I couldn’t help but think of my own grandma. She is currently living at a senior center in Koreatown and being her usual feisty self, she is constantly butting heads with other grandmas there. She particularly hates it when other grandmas talk about which universities they graduated from, as she takes it as a personal attack (as someone who didn’t have the means to graduate middle school). From what I hear from my relatives and as I’ve personally witnessed, my grandma is not only smart but one of the most doggedly ambitious people I know – someone who would’ve excelled if she had the opportunities. In her later years at senior centers, she would reconnect herself to this part of her identity as she would take great pride in learning how to read and write in English, finishing piles upon piles of sudokus, and framing her accolades (“High Honor Roll”) on her wall.  It pains me now to think how I would be rather dismissive to her complaints about those other grandmas, thinking she was just making a fuss.

When I think about Dandy and my own grandma’s experiences, I look to my own and see that I have been able to pursue whatever I wanted to pursue despite feeling inadequate and not feeling “fit” for it.  I thought I wanted to be a librarian, so I went for my MLIS degree. I later wanted pursue a career in law, so I enrolled in law school – all the while, also feeling that I was not particularly great in any of these things. What a luxury I have to be able to switch courses and push/challenge myself in positions that seem out of reach (not because of money or societal circumstances, but my own insecurities and shortcomings).  I have realized how lucky I am to have never known the sorrow of living with untapped potential.