Essay 3: My Mentor, Miss Tatev

My Mentor, Miss Tatev

“You are a gem,” she would say, “a gem amongst the thousands of barren rocks.” I have always had one mentor, one confidant, one friend who I could count on: my aunt, Tatevik. She has always been there to help me through all of my trials and tribulations. Her wry, sarcastic humor, combined with her intelligence, sincere concern, and non-judgmental attitude is what makes her such a valuable mentor. When speaking to her, I feel safe and comfortable; she always gives me educated and avid solutions to most of my problems. Having such a significant figure in my life, I have found that as young adults, it is necessary to have an experienced mentor who will guide us through the multiple paths of our lives. Without a positive role model like her, I would have strayed onto the wrong course of life, which would have resulted in dire consequences.

Growing up, we all place a ridiculous amount of pressure on ourselves to be the best we can be. And, as if our own expectations aren’t enough, we have our parents badgering us to try harder and accomplish even more. A mentor should help you rise to meet and overcome these pressures. Being born into a family where everyone seemed so “perfect”, I always had a superfluous amount of pressure coming from my parents. According to them, I had to be the brightest student in all of my classes; I had to be the most graceful dancer in my studio; I had to be the most fluent in Armenian at Saturday school. All of these expectations took a toll on me because I never felt that I could be good enough for my parents. Realizing that I was about to crack under the pressure and just give up entirely, I approached my aunt for help.

My aunt Tatevik, a 20-year-old UCLA student, was always giving me the advice I needed to move forward from every dilemma I encountered. I told her about the pressures my parents were putting on me, and she helped me realize that these expectations were accomplishable if I could balance my schedule correctly. She would call me everyday after school and in her small yet strong voice say, “Jasmin, what have you done so far?” “Jasmin, take a break, eat something. Watch ‘The Little Mermaid,’ and then get back to work.” “Jasmin, I hope you’re not slacking off!” Every phone call was humorous enough to lighten my mood, yet meticulous enough to let me know that I had to finish all of my work. Even just speaking to her on the phone and venting about my day would be comforting.

Balancing out my schedule is only one of the many difficult endeavors I faced growing up. Adding on to the list of anxieties I overcame, as a young adult, was peer pressure. My aunt helped me distinguish good peer pressure from bad peer pressure when I was leaning towards the wrong crowd. At the time, I was transitioning between two groups of friends. One group was very reserved, diligent, and school-oriented, while the other was calm, athletic, and socially active. She explained to me how, depending on the group of people I chose to associate with, my peers could either pressure me to do well and try my hardest to succeed in school or they could interrupt my studying and lead to a very active social life. But I wasn’t ready to give up either of my friends; I had many strong bonds with the people in each group. With my aunt’s help, I ended up balancing my two groups of friends so that I could enjoy my social life without it taking a toll on my grades.

My aunt helped me figure out my own beliefs and opinions by letting me slowly blossom into the best version of myself without the tainting influence of others judgments. According to my mother, the only truly important aspect in life is financial security; everything else can be dealt with if you are well off financially. Given that I had no idea what I wanted to do when I grew up, my argument against my mom’s financial security bias was weak. My aunt supported me when I argued with my mother about how choosing a career is as important as, if not more important than making money. It’s unlike any other decision we make in life because we can’t just change our job at any given moment.

After dealing with the nonsense tossed at me by my mom, my aunt helped me begin choosing a career. First, we sat down and took about a dozen “which career is right for you?” quizzes online. When we realized that after each quiz taken we were more doubtful of my future career, we turned to a different approach. My aunt helped me write a list of things I enjoy doing, then a separate list of things I’m good at, and we linked each factoid with a major. Eventually, we narrowed the list down to Math, Biology, Chemistry, or Biochemistry and we associated each of these majors with a few careers. After a very strenuous process of narrowing the list down, we came to the still uncertain conclusion: “something in the medical field.”  

At this point, I was exhausted by just the thought of going to medical school. Who could devote themselves to school for 12 years? I figured I’d just graduate high school, get my pharmacy technician license, and work as a pharmacy tech. My aunt was shocked and mortified when I told her about my plan. But instead of yelling at me about how senseless I was for choosing this path, my aunt explained to me that I was selling myself short. The girl who got A’s in all of her AP and honors classes shouldn’t be a pharmacy technician; she should be a Doctor of Pharmacy. This led me to my career choice. I wouldn’t be at a university, if it weren’t for my aunt.

She has always said to me that I am a gem, not knowing that she is the one who has polished and molded this gem to its current state; I am her gem. I would not be the person I am today without my aunt’s guidance and unconditional love. She taught me to never sell myself short by letting me know that I am intelligent enough to meet and even surpass my own expectations. She’s taught me to be independent and, most importantly, to have faith in myself. Thank you for allowing me to grow while steering me in the right direction throughout all of these years. Miss Tatevik, I am forever in your debt.