NYC-Feature Story

Taking On Too Much
I can't stop trying to prove myself

By Ilya Arbit

One afternoon when I was 12, I was sitting in my room writing in my homework journal. The radio was playing an R & B song. My father walked in, his face tired but his gaze concentrated, and I turned down the volume.

"Ilya, son, we need your help writing this letter to the landlord," he said.

My parents had called the landlord many times to ask him to repair some water damage to our ceiling, but they could never reach him. Meanwhile, the dripping water had torn the ceiling apart, and the paint and plaster hung in thin threads. My dad thought an official letter might spur the landlord into action.

Like an Adult

"You know English better than we do. Your vocabulary can help us write this properly and get noticed. We really need your help," he said.

Once again, I felt like I was the parent taking care of his kids' problems instead of the other way around. I acted accordingly. I sat up straight, like I thought an adult would do, and said, "Sure thing, Dad."

First, I had to figure out how to write an official letter. I started reading up on it in my English textbooks and some writing guides I found in the library, and I looked for examples on the Internet.

Taking Care of Business

I found law books and websites that explained what a lease was, the correct format for the letter and the legal terms I could use.

Finally I wrote a short letter that was direct and simple. I made it sound as official as possible with lines like, "According to paragraph two, line three of the lease, we are entitled to cost-free repair of any water damage to the apartment not caused by the tenants."

The letter sounded very adult and I was proud of it. Best of all, it was effective. Before long, the landlord had set up an appointment for the repairmen to come.

This wasn't the first or last experience that made me feel I had to be more responsible than most of my peers. When I moved here with my parents from Ukraine, I was 9 years old and didn't understand a word of English. But since I was young, I learned English faster than my parents, so they always asked me whenever they needed someone to translate documents, bills and other adult paperwork.

Outsider Among My Peers

At first, I didn't like being in the spotlight. I was a naturally shy, quiet person and I was still adjusting to a new language and culture. And as I grew older, having to help my parents understand American customs and a different language made me feel even more like an outsider among my peers.

I felt different from my American classmates. I couldn't tell if it was because I was an immigrant or because I was a year older than they were (I started school in the U.S. a grade behind so I could learn the language)-or both. All I know is that by high school, my habit of taking on big responsibilities had expanded from my home life to the classroom.

Proving Myself

Before high school, I'd been a quiet, low-key kid in school. But I finally decided that if I could handle so much responsibility in my house, I could take on more in school, too. Now that I was older, I liked being treated like an adult.

I started speaking out more in class. I signed up to make the morning announcements on the PA system to the ears of all 4,000 students in my school. I was selected to be the studio manager in our school's small TV studio. I loved doing all this because it made me feel like I had purpose and authority in my school.

There was another reason why I was taking on so much. I was an immigrant. An outsider. I felt that I had to work twice as hard as everybody else and do twice as well as other students, just to prove myself.

Fear of Losing It All

As an immigrant, I always had a strange fear that everything I had could be taken away at a moment's notice if I slacked off. It felt wrong to sit around and do nothing. This led to more studying and less fun and games.

My friends in high school were similar to me. They were also immigrants, mostly from Eastern Europe, and had gone through similar experiences growing up. Our goals were similar as well: to succeed, to make our parents proud and to get results that were worth all of our sacrifices. We all worked harder than most American-born students we knew so we could achieve those goals.

Just Can't Resist

Soon enough I gained a reputation among teachers and students as someone they could rely on, who could take charge and get things done. I ran errands for teachers and helped my friends keep up with their schoolwork.

I liked and hated that reputation. I enjoyed helping people and I liked that they put their trust in me. But I also felt tremendous pressure to keep it up and not let anyone down. I was afraid of failing. But I could never seem to say no to an opportunity.

One afternoon earlier this year, I met one of my friends in the school hallway at the end of the day. "Ilya, remember how you told me that you like law?" he asked.

"Yeah," I responded, unsure of what he wanted.

"Well, the moot court team is having their meeting right now. Do you want to come along?"

I wasn't sure I could take on yet another responsibility, especially considering that only a week before, I had forced myself to quit an after-school job when I realized I had too many other responsibilities.

I shook my head no, but my friend pressed on. "Look, just come. No strings attached. If you don't like it, you can leave at anytime."

I knew I shouldn't, but it sounded interesting and I couldn't resist. Besides, I hated saying no to people. Reluctantly, I agreed to go.

I ended up joining and becoming the main speaker. It took more responsibility and time but the result was well worth it to me. We placed higher in the preliminary competition than the teams of previous years.

And now that the competition season for the moot court team has passed and I have more time on my hands, I'm even contemplating going back to my old job as a counselor for little kids at an after-school program.

Not Enough Time

Over the years I've juggled library squad, Web-page production, literary magazine production and TV studio production. And now I'm tutoring students in social studies and writing for my school newspaper and NYC. Then there's schoolwork on top of that. It seems like there isn't enough time in the day to finish all the things I want to do or have committed to do.

Sometimes when I take a break from homework, I find myself sitting by my bedroom window that overlooks Brighton Beach, staring out into the dark ocean as waves hit the sand. "Where have all the days gone when I could simply play video games, watch a mini-series on TV and hang out with my friends?" I wonder. "Now I can't find a single minute in my day when I'm not doing something-working, studying or volunteering."

Still an Immigrant

And the next day I'm back to doing all those activities again. My mother worries about me and often comes in to check on me. She tells me, "Ilya, if you keep doing so much, you're going to burn out and end up in a hospital."

And I, of course, won't admit that I can't handle it all, "Mom, don't worry about it," I say. "This will all pay off in the future. I'm just asking you to trust me for now, please."

But sometimes I just feel overwhelmed. At times, having all that pressure and responsibility gets to me so much that it's scary. I think that at some point I'm just not going to be able to handle all this pressure and I'll have to drop everything I do.

And yet I know I can't. My success depends on it. I can't shake the feeling that I constantly have to prove my worth to others. Inside, I still feel like an immigrant who has to work twice as hard as other teens to reach my goals.