Memorizing new materials and taking exams always come easily to me. Since, traditionally, Asian education systems leaned heavily on rote learning, I had little problem earning good grades at school. However, the “aha” moment always struck me weeks or months after I first learned something—perhaps because I was younger than most of my classmates. It didn’t take me long to realize that there was a huge difference between knowing something and understanding something. I also figured out that, if I understood the reason behind a certain thing, I could easily apply it to similar things. So, I became a perpetual “terrible two,” always asking “WHY?”
Curiosity opened up endless possibilities for me. It turned the world into a playground of knowledge. It guided me through years of academic studies. It gave me the freedom to reproduce composer’s ideas on solid ground.
On a few occasions, my inquisitive approach had become obstructive. Mom suggested for dad to teach me German when I was in high school. We sat down with the textbook. Dad showed me the four cases: nominative, accusative, dative and genitive. He showed me how the articles and pronouns would change based on genders, cases and numbers. Instead of accepting the rules, I asked him; “Why?” This went on for the entire lesson. Dad thought I was the most impossible student that he had ever had. I never had another session with him.
As a participant of a summer festival, I had the opportunity to work with a prominent artist. Every time he instructed me to try certain things, I would ask ‘Why?” He was FURIOUS with me for asking stupid questions. However, he did provide extended answers to all my stupid questions. Many things that I learned that summer had turned into useful tools for me. Did he think I was challenging his authority? Perhaps. What I gained from the experience far outweighed the momentary humiliation.
For as long as my mind is clear, I will continue asking: “Why?”