Don't, a tornado of commands

Over the last few years, I've come up with a number of similies and metaphors to describe the life of a teacher.

A personal favorite is this: Teaching is like being attacked by a tornado of chickens pecking you to death.  That's pretty darn accurate.

During the raging chicken storm one afternoon on the bus, I found myself saying, "Don't take the collar off the otter, [insert child's name]!  After saying it, I realized that particular sentence would sound so bizzare to anyone listening in without having the original context.  Then I started to think about all the crazy stuff I've had to say over the years that start with "don't!"   A few for your pleasure:

• Don't touch the dead bird! You'll get sick!
• Don't put milk in the plants! It makes the foyer stink like rotten milk!
• Don't staple other people's feet! Are you crazy!
• Don't speak in Japanese just because I said no Korean! We're studying English!
• Don't touch me after you wiped your nose with that hand!
• Don't throw my waterbottle out the window!  There are people down there!
• Don't say "gay bar" anymore! I know you're not saying Naver! (Naver and "gay bar" sound similar in a Korean accent)
• Don't ask me where papers go when they are labeled right in front of you!
• Don't drink my coffee! That's the LAST thing you need!
• Don't say I'm Loki! I much prefer Thor! 
• Don't lick the sugar cubes! That's not good for you!
• Don't call me grandma! I'm only 10 years older than you are!

While some of these are quite entertaining, my favorite "don'ts" are the ones listed below.  These don'ts are the reason I'm a teacher: 

• Don't ever give up on yourself
• Don't quit trying your hardest
• Don't believe that you're not worth something
• Don't accept the bad labels that people give you
• Don't become something just because society expects you to
• Don't become the very thing that you hate about this world
• Don't ever quit dreaming 

The Second Greatest Decision of My Life, a reflection

I made the greatest and most important decision of my life on July 8th, 2002.   It was late on a balmy summer night at a youth camp in Tennesse when I decided that I would abandon all this world had to offer and follow Jesus Christ.     Every year when July 8th rolls around, I can't help but be excited and celebrate it like a birthday.  July 8th is a day that I'll always remember.

Unfortunately, July 8th also has a very close proximity to July 14th.  Though it was a different year, July 14th marks the day when something incredibly painful and traumatic happened yet it was the beginning of a life-defining moment and story for me.   I'm not sure if I would have remembered what day it happened on if it weren't for the fact that it was so close to July 8th, but maybe I would have.  Hard to say.

One of the reasons I started this blog was to be more open about what is inside of me.  Usually, I’m about as locked down as a penitentiary when it comes to feelings.   I'll be completely honest in saying that I was not/am not eager to write this particular blog entry.   Sometimes that's how I know God is speaking to me: he usually asks me to do hard stuff that I don't want to do even though I know there will be a great benefit in doing it.  I hope that what I say benefits someone today.  I think there will be some benefit for me too just by even saying it.  

It would not be beneficial for me however to share too many details.  Those of you who have known me for a few years will know to which event I am referring, but the rest of you should be able to suffice on the information I do give.

It happened exactly ten years ago--July 14th, 2006.  I found myself in a situation where I felt absolutely betrayed and tossed away like garbage by someone I loved and cared for more than my own self.  When I think back to the person I was at that time, my life was pretty much centered around him.  You might say that my sun rose and set with him.  It wouldn't be far off.  If he said jump, I was already in the air before the word left his lips.  There was so much time, energy, money, you name it, invested, and I assumed there would be more--I was led to believe so anyway.   July 14th is when it all came crashing down.  

I found out in the worst way possible--social media.  A first of many insults to be sure.  I can sum up the entire aftermath in a few short sentences.  I was no longer worth any respect, effort, or sincerity to this person anymore.  He had what he wanted somewhere else, and I was no longer needed.  If I wanted to tag along like a pathetic little puppy dog and continue to lick his heels then that'd be okay, but for the most part, I wasn't a priority anymore. 

And here is where the second greatest decision of my life came. How was I going to respond to the situation before me?  

One word comes to mind when I think of this entire situation--dignity.  Was I going to accept sub-human treatment and tear myself apart trying to please someone else, or was I going to insist that I be treated like a person?  As difficult as it was, and as much as I loved, I had to walk away.   I walked away from the very thing around which I had built my life.  I had to cut something out of myself that had occupied a very large place in my heart.  

There were more choices.  Was I going to try and depend on someone or something else or was I going to become a whole and independent person?  Was I going to get out there and see the world, fulfill the very dreams placed in my heart by God, or was I going to stay behind and not attempt anything for myself?   Was I going to heal and forgive or was I going to become angry and bitter?  

Living out the choices I made were painful.  Doing the right thing is rarely easy.  There were many days and nights of bitter tears, angry prayers and words, and loneliness as the transformation by fire took place.  I am thankful to God for his compassionate love when my heart was less than thankful, to friends who surrounded me with affection, prayers, and just a lot of silly fun to take my mind off things, and to wonderful college professors who never stopped believing in me.  (That one's for you L.F. and D.A., if you reading.)

If I could go back in time and speak to the 20-year old me, I'd tell her that she did marvelously well. Through it all, she came out with her dignity and honor whole.  She did everything she could to honor God and do the right thing, even when it was unbearably painful.  I'd tell her that I am so proud of where she came from, and that I'm proud of where she is going.  I'd tell her that she is going to go on to many adventures and meet a lot of wonderful people.  I'd tell her that even though it doesn't feel like it, it's going to be okay.

I felt like I should open up and share some of this.  I don't know which parts--if any--will be meaningful to others, but I hope that if any words I have shared today can bring comfort to anyone, then I pray that they find them today.  If anything, I feel a small sense of comfort today--realizing that what I once thought was the end of the world was really only the beginning.  

Curry, an exotic journey

I wish I could regale you with tales of exotic journeys through the rugged Himalayas or clearing thick rainforest with my razor sharp machete to reach long and forgotten corners of the earth. No, my summer vacation isn't like that at all.

Instead, I'm teaching summer school...to 8 years olds.   Okay, admittedly, that is a lot like trekking on some adventure.  Imagine 7 little jungle monkeys throwing fruit and god-knows-what-else at you then howling with laughter.  Just change monkeys to children and fruit to pencils and wads of paper. God-knows-what-else can stay.

Needless to say, it's not exactly what I hoped for when I agreed to work at the camp.  Don't get me wrong, I like kids--a lot.  I love teaching too.  Sometimes, I even like teaching kids.  This combination of kids that I have now is a bit of a challenge.

Wednesday was a particularly irksome day full of "he looked at me!" "she touched my pencil!"  plus some tears, a little blood, and a whole lot of unfinished homework.  All of this by lunchtime, mind you.

I said that my summer wasn't exotic, but on Wednesday, we had curry for lunch.  Well, actually, it was Korean style Ottogi curry from a powder packet--the pinnacle of excellence and fine dining, let me tell you. Basically, imagine a mountain of white rice with yellowish curry and chunks of vegetables poured on top, and you'll have Korean curry.

I was sitting at the table with a few of my students eating quietly.  I wasn't in the mood for conversation so I imagine I looked a lot like a cow just chewing her cud or a civilized zombie who could sit at the table.  

It's hard to say whether I heard it first or I felt it, but before I could comprehend everything that happened, there was a girl on the floor, salad all over the table, and an entire mountain of steaming hot curry all over me.

I groaned audibly.  The hot food was painful, even burning through my clothes.  Most of the yellow curry sauce spilt on my pants--a particular pair of pants of which I am quite fond.  (Yellow curry is instant death to any outfit it touches.)  And considering how much my students had annoyed "blessed" me before lunch, it was the cherry on top of an already disastrous day.

It's days like this that I'm glad God has given his Holy Spirit to those who believe. I was on the edge already with my students, and the one who fell and dropped her lunch all over me was particularly on my nerves that day.  My instincts wanted to yell.  My instincts wanted someone to blame or to vent my frustrations.  Frankly, I wanted to chew this kid out for not being more careful.   I could feel the gentle whisper of the Holy Spirit in my heart.

What was more important in that moment?  My pants? My personal comfort? My expectations of how I felt summer camp should be running?  Or was it the fact that some little girl just needed a little love and grace in a moment like that?  I had a choice.  My response to the situation would exactly show what I deemed important in that moment.

I stood up, letting the curry slide to the floor.  I was still annoyed and upset, but I was going to make the right choice.  Calmly, I asked her to get some tissues for me.  I knelt to the floor and began to clean.  I had her get more lunch while I finished the job.   It took a while for my feelings to calm down, but I kept pushing forward to make the right choice.  I know God helped me do so.

There will be times--whether in the exotic or daily--where everything seems to go wrong and pile up into one mass of fury.  It is so easy to say unkind words or to vocalize our extreme displeasure in a hurtful way.  I've failed so many times before at this.   I do, however, want to remind myself that more important things are at stake--such as the growth, confidence, and development of a little girl.  I hope too that you can be reminded of what is more important in moments similar to mine.  I know God was helping me through Wednesday, and I know He'll help you make the right choice too.

Used, a local and international affair

These thoughts could probably fill a book.  There is so much to say here, but I'm not quite ready for that yet.

If I were to ask you, "what is your life mission?" what might you say?  Or let me phrase it another way, "what is something that you never want to forget while living your life?"   One of the answers I have to that questions is to love and accept people for who they are.  I wish to truly recognize their humanity and treat them with the dignity and respect that their humanity deserves.

A few different things prompted these kinds of thoughts in my head once again.   A few days ago, I was listening to music on one of my favorite stations.  The next song played automatically, and I started bobbing my head to the beat.   (I know this blog is called Shameless, but I am not willing to face the backlash and teasing if I confess what song this was.)  I liked the sound of it a lot.  The artist is talented.  I cannot deny it.  Once I started listening to the lyrics though, I found myself horrified at what was actually being said.   Both people in the song blatantly made it clear that they were using each other for their own purposes and if either failed in fulfilling those purposes, the relationship was over.  There was no compassion for mistakes and frail humanity, there was no appreciation for each other's uniqueness and personhood, there was no love--only consumerism.

I thought more on this topic last night as I watched a movie with a friend.   (We went to see the new Tarzan movie.)  I was reminded once again how disgustingly cruel and selfish some nations were to my beloved Africa.  Africa was invaded, raped, plundered, and left behind like trash*.  It is was just like one of the characters in that unnamed song--I'll use you until you're worthless to me, then I'll abandon you.

In life, I'm going to venture that many of us have not felt like people were treating us with human dignity--we were being used.  It probably started early: you weren't a playmate, you were just the kid with the cool toy that everyone wanted to see.  Next, you were the student with a pencil, not a friend or a classmate.  Maybe you were someone to occupy the time until "someone" better came along.   Maybe it was your money, your success, your possessions, or the emotional comfort you gave--whatever it was, someone wanted it and took it.  After they were done, they threw you away.    We've all been scarred by such things in many different ways; we were consumer items to be used and discarded rather than human beings with thoughts and feelings.

I've made it a priority in my life to truly love the people around me (as difficult as it can be sometimes) and not to use them for my own gain or benefit.   Consumerism towards people is one of the most un-Christlike attitudes I can imagine (Mark 10:45.)  Humanity was created in the image of God.  Out of all creation, humanity is in the closest relationship and comparison to God himself.  He made us in His own image to have a relationship with us.  The creation of humankind is a celebration of God's love, creativity, and power.  To not respect this is a grave travesty.

I wanted to write these things today because I want to spur myself and others on towards loving more sincerely, deeply, and honestly.  Will we love the people around us because they are human beings made in the image of God, deserving of respect and dignity because of that status, or will we treat them like consumer items to be gorged upon and devoured for our own selfish gain?  This includes everyone--our friends, our families, strangers on the street, the homeless person in the subway, the cranky grandma on the street peddling vegetables, the bratty student--everyone.

There is a greater power in authentic love that in many ways has yet to be unleashed in many of us.  I am asking God, and I hope you will too, to transform our consumer hearts into giving hearts. Luckily, He promised to do just that (Ezekiel 36:26-27!)

Tell you what, if anyone can guess the name of the song or the artist in the comments below, I'll confess to it.  ;)

Peace out!

* My friend that I watched the movie with recommended a book to me called King Leopold's Ghost: A Story of Greed, Terror, and Heroism in Colonial Africa by Adam Hochschild.  I'm going to be reading it myself this summer.  It speaks about some of the events I mentioned above.

Tetris, an unusual teacher

I like Soviet Hypnosis...erm, I mean Tetris.  

It's simple, sleek, and oh so maddening at times.  I don't play it on a consistent basis, but every once in a while, I get the bug to play.

As a few of you know, I also have a lot of trouble sleeping sometimes.  This week was one of the roughest patches of sleeplessness I've ever had.  I'd try to go to sleep around midnight, but my body said, "Um, no, I want to sleep later--preferably around dawn, please."  So there I was in the middle of the night multiple times this week like that nasty cat that howls and rummages through the trash in your neighborhood in the middle of the night--well, without the rummaging and the nastiness.

Guess what I did during all those waking hours?  

So  I played Tetris--a lot.  As the exhausting, but waking, hours passed, my fingers flew over the arrow keys faster than people rushing into Wal-Mart for the "After Thanksgiving Day Sale."  As the bricks fell and clicked into place by my command, my mind started putting together insights and ideas related to the game.  Ironically, some of the very same advice I would give to another Tetris player after hours of gleaned experience and skill, would be some of the very same advice and general principles I'd give to you, my fellow friends, on this journey called life.  I would like to share them with you:

1. Pay Attention to the Details-  It is very easy to make little mistakes that will have huge consequences for you in the game.  One wrong placement of a piece does have the power to destroy the game.  How can one loose attention to the details?  I've found I lost attention when either I was moving too fast and rushing, or when I became unfocused and let my mind wander too far away from the task at hand.  When I rushed, I would accidently place a piece in the incorrect position.  When my mind wandered, I often didn't pay attention to see if the piece and the space I wished to put it were indeed matches.  

We often hear such phrases as "don't get caught up in the details."   There is merit to that.  There is also merit in paying attention to the small moments in life as well.  Many small moments added up together will make the sum of something.  Don't discredit the small everyday moments too easily. Don't rush through them like a quick task to be checked off the list.  Don't absentmindedly go through the motions without a thought in the world.   

2.  Be Decisive- This is especially important when playing the higher levels of Tetris.  As you level up, the speed increases.   By level 10, you're practically flying at light speed.  (You could make the Kessel Run in less than twelve parsecs!)  You have to make a decision and quickly.  You can't keep turning the piece trying to find the best option.  You need make a choice and stick with it.   

In real life, we often have the luxury of taking the time to weigh the options carefully and choose the best option.  If you have the time, absolutely do so.  The life principle I'd like to share though is that we have to make choices at some time.  We cannot constantly live in a state of indecision.   Each decision is unique and has various consequences and rewards.  Each important decision  needs to be weighed and considered in its own timing carefully with prayer and wise counsel.   Just keep in mind that decision cannot be suspended forever, for the most part.  

3.  Your Greatest Mistakes Can Become Your Greatest Victories-  There was no good way to shorten that principle.  There is power in that sentence--YOUR GREATEST MISTAKES CAN BECOME YOUR GREATEST VICTORIES.  On the version of Tetris I play (freetetris.org,) my highest score is around 57,000 while my average score is around 30,000--quite a difference.  The interesting thing about my highest score is that during that game, I remember making a lot of careless mistakes right in a row, and I thought that I had mucked up the game pretty badly.  I was a millisecond away from reloading the internet page and starting over.  For some reason, I changed my mind and decided to stick with it.  So I wiggled my butt in my computer chair and stuck my face right up into the monitor.  I diligently placed the pieces as they flew down at warp speed (level 12).  Before I knew it, I had worked my way out of the hole I created, and I was flourishing.  What I also started to notice is that the horribly placed pieces were actually now the perfect placement for the new pieces I was receiving.  Those "horribly placed pieces" became the structure upon which I built my victory. 

With a little stubborn persistence and an unwillingness to give up, it is possible to turn things around.  If you refuse to give up, you can overcome.  (Now, there is a big different between "refusing to give up" on something and "letting go" of something.  That'll be another blog for another day, perhaps.)  

One of my favorite Bible verses (though I do like all 31,102 of them,) is Romans 8:28.  It says, "And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose."  God is a generous God.  He gave all humanity its life and breath.  He causes the sun to shine and the rain to fall upon all--righteous or not.  Romans 8:28 is a promise only to believers, the children of God, the ones who love Him.  All things--the good, the bad, and the ugly, will be brought together under His control and guidance to create something good.  Under the mighty power and sovereign hand of God almighty, God is working on behalf of His children as a loving father would.  Through the power of God, YOUR GREATEST MISTAKES CAN BECOME YOUR GREATEST VICTORIES!  

Be encouraged today, and try not to play too much Tetris!

Drag Racing, a battle with 6 year old

Expat life can be lonely.

Whoever tells you it isn't is either lying through their teeth, been in a foreign country for less than three weeks, or completely psychotic.

Today was one of those days--one of those days that it gets to you.  Life is happening all around you, and yet, you are not a part of it.  Conversations and laughter fill the air, yet you are passing between the bubbles of other people's life and space.

On days like this, I like to get out on my road bike and pound out the frustration.  Pedaling like I'm being chased by a pack of zombies, weaving between obstacles (people), and flying up to 40kmh does tend to release the physical tension one holds up in the body.  But today, it wasn't really working.

I would hear bits of conversation hanging upon the wind as I passed.   "같이 가요!"  (Let's go together!)  No, Amy, that's not for you. You can't go with them.  I would see people waving, but it was to someone else--not to me.  I was a foreign object in a foreign land.  Those are the days when it is lonely.

Riding back home was a little slower.  The wind was blowing directly against me, and I was tired. Plus the previously mentioned things were on my mind.  Cycling is such a mental task.  I can't even describe it.  Perhaps another blog for another day.

Soon, I came up behind a little boy pedaling away on his tiny bicycle.  His knobby knees, covered with pads, bowed out as he diligently completed his mission.   I'm guessing he was about 6, possibly seven years old.

I have a road bike (the one with the skinny little tires and the curled handles,) and it is actually a bit difficult to ride slowly on them.   I was going to have to pass him.   I courteously rang my bell to warn him of my approach, and I slowed down to pass him.  As is the custom, I bowed my head in respect to greet this fellow cyclist.  Then I sped up and continued on my way.

Very soon, I came to a small park where people were walking back and forth along the bike/walking trail.  I was going to have to slow down or take someone out of commission.  Suddenly, I started hearing the sound of furious pedaling and the turning of gears.  I looked over my shoulder.  The little boy I passed a minute before was now on my right side and pedaling like there was no tomorrow.  I'm entirely sure what he was up to, but I rolled with it (no pun intended, but it works nicely.)  I frantically looked back and forth between his bike and mine.  He grinned widely.  We just became competitors in an epic battle of speed and determination.  I kept the race at a tie the best I could for the few meters we could race.  He had to slow down and stop or otherwise hit a grandma and a set of workout equipment.  (Smart kid.  In Korea, if you hit a grandma, they'll hit you back for sure.  Much scarier than smashing into the workout equipment.)

As I kept flying by, I waved goodbye to my honorable competitor.  Though I don't know who you are or if I will ever see you again, or if we would even remember one another if we did happen to meet again, I want to say "thank you."  You made my day a little less lonely.

I'll race with you anytime, kid.

30, a number

30 is just a number, right? 

Well, let's think about this for a moment.  What kind of expectations did I have for reaching the age of 30 when I was in my twenties?  Let me paint a word picture for you.

By the time I hit 30, I should have accomplished these things and likely a little extra because, you know, life is full of surprises:  have a Ph.D. in something because Ph.D.'s are a mark of high intelligence and success. While earning the Ph.D., I should have had the time to meet the perfect husband and produce at least 2.3 offspring by now, along with adopting a few.  Planting a church would have definitely checked off the Great Commission requirement outlined in Matthew 28.  In my free time, I should have written one of the many novels that have been bouncing around my head since I was a young teen.  I also should have had time to finish earning my black belt in Taekwondo since I was so close anyway and of course I am the model of excellent health at the age of 30.   Of course, I would be working at a job that I love which has no conflicts, complications, or annoying circumstances, and it fulfills every need I have for self-expression, creativity, and altruism.

Maybe some of your are starting to think that the above paragraph was part of some fantasy novel that I was going to write.  No, those were/are some of the expectations I had set for myself at various points in my twenties.  Naturally, you'd expect with those expectations that I'd be having a meltdown right about now since my 30th birthday is tomorrow.  Surprisingly, I'm not. 

If I were to compare the expectation to the reality, it would be a far cry in some cases.  I stopped after my master's degree because I was tired and financially strained, the perfect husband has a poor sense of direction and navigational skills--he hasn't found me yet, definitely haven't planted a church, most of my writing projects have not left the research phase, the ankle brace on my right leg reminds me of my human frailties, and don't even get me started on being an educator in a foreign country. 

So why am I not upset?  Ultimately, I suppose that the last decade has taught me something really important.   Good things take time, and the things I desire are good things.  They are not mere lines on a checklist to be checked, conquered, and forgotten.  Life is to be savored, not rushed through. Life is to be explored, unfolded, and examined from all sides.  Life is not a game to be won but an experience of which to be a part.  

If my experience takes a little longer, so be it.   I'm still here.  

P.S:  Perfect husband, I live in South Korea--pretty close to the capital.  Get a move on it!