Preface

This blog is going to be a bit different from my previous ones. It’s more reflective, personal, and vulnerable, while still providing the high-quality information you expect about college admissions.

As a late Millennial/early Gen Z Asian American, I grew up with immigrant parents who valued college differently than some of our classmates. For our parents, it wasn’t enough just to go to college; we needed to go to a “good” college. This often meant one that was well-known and highly ranked, whether by US News or discussed in WeChat circles. Growing up, this seemed normal because my Asian American friends were going through the same thing. We took as many AP/IB classes as possible, compared SAT/ACT scores as soon as they were released, and ran for club leadership positions even if we had barely attended a meeting (sorry, Model UN!).

As I’ve gotten older, I’ve become more aware of the environment my parents grew up in and how it influenced their values, anxieties, and decisions in child-rearing. My parents, born in 1966 and 1969, were shaped by the intense pressure of the Chinese education system, where the “gaokao” or College Entrance Exam determined their future opportunities. This high-stakes exam created a culture where academic achievement was paramount, influencing their perspective on education and success.

At the same time, I’ve gained insight into my American upbringing, recognizing the unique challenges that arise when combining a traditional Chinese approach with American circumstances. This blog isn’t about deciding which method is superior—both have strengths and weaknesses. Instead, it’s about understanding the differences and acknowledging the impact of these cultural perspectives. Let’s dive into it.

‍

Chinese Context: The Impact of the "Gaokao"

Like many Chinese-Americans of my generation, my parents’ most formative years were spent growing up in the aftermath of the Chinese Cultural Revolution. During this time, the “gaokao,” or College Entrance Exam, played a crucial role in determining one’s future. This highly intensive, multi-day exam taken during high school senior year was described by my parents as the “singular exam on which students’ future depends.” It wasn’t an exaggeration. Regardless of how well a student performed throughout their schooling, an underwhelming gaokao score would relegate them to a lower tier of colleges and, consequently, career opportunities.

My parents often shared stories about the trauma and regrets their top-performing peers experienced due to this all-or-nothing system, and how those feelings lingered into adulthood. The gaokao system created a direct link between a student’s achievement and their college admission results. A higher gaokao score meant access to a more prestigious school, perpetuating an extremely competitive academic environment—one that still persists today.

This background helps explain why I frequently hear questions from Chinese parents like, “Is this SAT score good enough, or should we retake it?” and “What is the ‘best’ activity my student should join?” Their understanding of college admissions is influenced by their own experiences, where clear-cut, quantifiable results determined success.

One of my earliest memories is crying to my dad, asking if he was proud of me, and hearing him say, “Son, you need to give me a reason to be proud of you.” At the time, I didn’t understand why his words didn’t comfort me. Nearly 20 years later, I realize it’s because my dad grew up in a society where being “good enough” was based on very quantifiable, external factors. In China, aspects of a student’s personality and interests meant little unless backed by a stellar gaokao score. While I’m not sure what achievement my dad expected from a five-year-old, I now know his environment conditioned him to believe that pride in oneself or one’s child comes only after significant achievement.

American Context: The Comprehensive Review Approach

In contrast, the American college admissions process is fundamentally different. Most selective colleges employ a method known as “comprehensive review.” This means that admissions officers evaluate applicants within the context of their unique opportunities and challenges. For example, a student applying from a Bay Area school with access to 15 AP exams is assessed differently than a student from rural Arkansas, where such opportunities may not exist. The goal of American colleges is to enroll a well-rounded class of students who are not only academically excellent but also bring diverse talents and experiences.

This approach is crucial because U.S. colleges value the opportunity to bring together students from varied backgrounds who might never have met in their local communities. This diversity allows students to learn from and grow alongside each other.

Anecdotally, I appreciate this approach because my time at UCLA introduced me to many new friends and peers from all over Southern California. They saw me as a country bumpkin from Davis, and experiencing the culture shock of being in a place like LA, where people care about who you know, what you wear, and what you say, was eye-opening. It expanded my understanding of regional California culture.

Every year, colleges commit to enrolling a well-rounded class to facilitate this inter-mingling learning process. Whether it’s social, cultural, career-related, mental health, or philosophical growth, I believe students will enjoy as enriching an educational experience outside of the classroom as they do inside it.

‍

Millennials: Bridging Old-School Values with New Realities

Born in 1994, I fall at the tail end of the Millennial or Gen Y period (1981-1996). My generation experienced a profound cultural pivot that greatly influences our worldview. We grew up in a simpler, analog world without smartphones and social media, yet learned to adapt and incorporate these tools into our lives out of both interest and necessity. This unique position equips us well to bridge the gap between the “old school” and the “new school,” forming nuanced opinions from experiencing both sides.

Many Millennial Asian Americans grew up with immigrant parents who held old-school values—filial piety, saving face, and viewing college acceptance as the key to a good life. At the time, this made sense to us; our parents were older, wiser, and their approach had worked for them. We adopted much of their thinking, often suppressing our inner voices that told us to be contrarian.

As we achieved traditional success through school or career, we realized that what we were taught wasn’t the full story. For example, I was accepted into UCLA for engineering, which is a significant accomplishment. However, it felt empty because, throughout high school, I was stuck in a cycle of people-pleasing and following what my peers or family (both engineers) were doing.

Once I arrived on campus, I felt a profound sense of lostness and identity dissonance. For the first time, I had some separation from external influences, and I realized I didn’t have intrinsic reasons for choosing engineering. No matter how many class retakes or tutoring sessions I sought, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was studying engineering for everyone except myself.

Reflecting on this experience, my outlook changed significantly. I no longer viewed college acceptance as the end goal leading to a happily ever after. For me and countless other students, college life can be the most challenging and unique years of your life. You may be thrust out of your comfort zone and forced to think for yourself, with less contact with friends and family who once heavily influenced your actions or values. As a result, college may be the first time you feel truly and perhaps even irredeemably lost, depressed, and reconsidering everything you once considered core parts of your identity.

Wrap-Up: Embracing Self-Acceptance Over College Acceptance

As someone who has navigated the challenging and often dark depths of this process, I want to reassure you that you are not alone. Being lost in college is tough, but self-discovery, like any skill, can be learned through time and intentional effort. This is why a big aspect of my coaching philosophy at Your Epic Consulting (YEC) is treating students as partners rather than children. Instead of providing a success playbook like other college coaches, I challenge my students with questions like, “Well, what do you think?” This approach helps them learn to think for themselves, an essential part of maturing into independent, functioning adults.

When older Asians from my parents’ generation ask about the best approach for their kids to apply to college, I emphasize that my goal is not just to help students become better applicants but better people. College acceptance is only the first step in their overall academic journey. It's more beneficial to invest time exploring a student’s values, goals, and purpose, regardless of the school they ultimately attend. These are the keys to achieving more, being more resilient, and being intentional at the collegiate level.

By prioritizing self-acceptance over college acceptance, students can achieve greater long-term college and career success. They will stop college-pleasing and showcase their authenticity instead. This approach aligns with our philosophy at YEC, where we empower students to embrace their true selves and navigate their educational paths with confidence and purpose. If you'd like to continue this conversation or learn more about my experiences, please feel free to reach out via feiyang@yourepic.consulting!