the short-handled hoe
So Cesar Chavez day of Service and Learning came and went - THANK GOODNESS! My team and I led some short lessons on Chavez and farm workers, as well as an exciting illustration of the evil short-handled hoe. This garden tool was banned in most states because it caused debilitating back pain to anyone who used it for an extended period of time. However in California, the tool was still being used. Chavez worked to have this tool made illegal. Anyways, I hope the kids got something out of our non-political, non-"controversial" talk about this very cool guy. I definitely learned a lot from this experience, not only abut Chavez himself, but about the censoring that occurs even in "open" schools like the montessori school we went to on Monday.
National Youth Service Day, here I come...
3/27/2002
3/18/2002
Cesar E. Chavez
Do you know why California celebrates Cesar E. Chavez Day on April 1? Didn't think so. One of my many projects for my program includes working with kids to teach them about Chavez and helping them in their school gardens.
Okay, here's a two minute lesson: Cesar E. Chavez (1927-1993) was born in Arizona where his parents owned a farm. During the depression the farm was taken away and his entire family became migrant farm workers. He attended 37 schools until he graduated in 8th grade. This was the extent of his formal education, but he was definitely a self-taught man. He also fought in WWII. While working as a migrant farm worker in California (San Jose area), he met community organizers. He became an organizer and then later started the National Farm Workers Association, later the United Farm Workers Union, in order to fight for the rights of farm workers to have bathrooms, clean water to drink and other basic fair work conditions. He led marches, strikes and boycotts and was nationally recognized. Clinton awarded Chavez the Congressional Medal of Honor posthumously and Mexico honored him with a similar award.
Chavez story may seem comparable to Martin Luther King Jr's history. However, the schools that we're working with are concerned about us teaching Chavez history to their students. I was told to stick to the "historial" aspects so that the kids can make their own decision. It seems that he is too "controversial." I understand that some may not agree with his politics and spiritual background. But didn't people feel this way about MLK jr? Yet they still teach his messages of loving everyone and about peaceful action, which is what Chavez also stood for. Is it because he was a man of color and because he was working for the poor, immigrants and uneducated? He gave a voice to those who still have a very small voice in America.
I may be misinterpreting the school's request to keep my lesson strictly historical, but I feel that the reluctant attitude they might have toward teaching about Chavez has more to do with underlying feelings than just having the kids "decide what they think of Chavez on their own."
Do you know why California celebrates Cesar E. Chavez Day on April 1? Didn't think so. One of my many projects for my program includes working with kids to teach them about Chavez and helping them in their school gardens.
Okay, here's a two minute lesson: Cesar E. Chavez (1927-1993) was born in Arizona where his parents owned a farm. During the depression the farm was taken away and his entire family became migrant farm workers. He attended 37 schools until he graduated in 8th grade. This was the extent of his formal education, but he was definitely a self-taught man. He also fought in WWII. While working as a migrant farm worker in California (San Jose area), he met community organizers. He became an organizer and then later started the National Farm Workers Association, later the United Farm Workers Union, in order to fight for the rights of farm workers to have bathrooms, clean water to drink and other basic fair work conditions. He led marches, strikes and boycotts and was nationally recognized. Clinton awarded Chavez the Congressional Medal of Honor posthumously and Mexico honored him with a similar award.
Chavez story may seem comparable to Martin Luther King Jr's history. However, the schools that we're working with are concerned about us teaching Chavez history to their students. I was told to stick to the "historial" aspects so that the kids can make their own decision. It seems that he is too "controversial." I understand that some may not agree with his politics and spiritual background. But didn't people feel this way about MLK jr? Yet they still teach his messages of loving everyone and about peaceful action, which is what Chavez also stood for. Is it because he was a man of color and because he was working for the poor, immigrants and uneducated? He gave a voice to those who still have a very small voice in America.
I may be misinterpreting the school's request to keep my lesson strictly historical, but I feel that the reluctant attitude they might have toward teaching about Chavez has more to do with underlying feelings than just having the kids "decide what they think of Chavez on their own."
3/15/2002
public transit
There's nothing like public transportation to jolt anyone out of their own bubble. Now that I drive to work in suburbia, I kinda miss the urban commute. Sure, I'm glad to be free from sitting next to someone on muni with bad B.O., standing next to a pervert who looks at you funny on the BART or sitting in the "wrong" chair -- and by this I mean one that has an unrecognizable stain or has been dampened by someone else's sweaty ass. What I do miss is the daily human contact with my fellow commuters. There's an unspoken bond that forms when the bus takes off as riders are trying to exit through the back door and everyone screams "BACK DOOR!". And yet another connection forms when you're awkwardly sharing the same pole with 5 other people.
Okay, so most of the time buses are filled with individuals who couldn't care less about the person sitting next to them or why they're even on the same bus. Even the buses and trains that are filled to the brim can be the most lonely places. But sometimes the most routine ride reminds me of our connectness as human beings.
What brings me to this reflection? Yesterday I took the caltrain up to the city for the closing night film and gala for the SF International Asian American Film Festival. About 15 minutes into my trip, an older man with a rolling wire cart enters my train. He sits down in the seat in front of me and I can hear him catching his breath. When the ticket taker comes by, the older man tells him that he lost his round trip ticket to San Francisco and shows him a handful of change that he can give as fare. The ticket taker says, "Keep looking for the ticket, I'll be back." I think the ticket taker thought that he would let the man stay on the train for a few more stops before he had to kick him off, or the man would just leave on his own. The older man asks the man seated in the section across from him to borrow $2. But then I remember that minsoo gave me his 10-ride pass and it has 5 more rides on it. It expires on the 15th and I'm not going to use it, so I give the ticket to the older man and he and I make the trip to San Francisco together.
There's nothing like public transportation to jolt anyone out of their own bubble. Now that I drive to work in suburbia, I kinda miss the urban commute. Sure, I'm glad to be free from sitting next to someone on muni with bad B.O., standing next to a pervert who looks at you funny on the BART or sitting in the "wrong" chair -- and by this I mean one that has an unrecognizable stain or has been dampened by someone else's sweaty ass. What I do miss is the daily human contact with my fellow commuters. There's an unspoken bond that forms when the bus takes off as riders are trying to exit through the back door and everyone screams "BACK DOOR!". And yet another connection forms when you're awkwardly sharing the same pole with 5 other people.
Okay, so most of the time buses are filled with individuals who couldn't care less about the person sitting next to them or why they're even on the same bus. Even the buses and trains that are filled to the brim can be the most lonely places. But sometimes the most routine ride reminds me of our connectness as human beings.
What brings me to this reflection? Yesterday I took the caltrain up to the city for the closing night film and gala for the SF International Asian American Film Festival. About 15 minutes into my trip, an older man with a rolling wire cart enters my train. He sits down in the seat in front of me and I can hear him catching his breath. When the ticket taker comes by, the older man tells him that he lost his round trip ticket to San Francisco and shows him a handful of change that he can give as fare. The ticket taker says, "Keep looking for the ticket, I'll be back." I think the ticket taker thought that he would let the man stay on the train for a few more stops before he had to kick him off, or the man would just leave on his own. The older man asks the man seated in the section across from him to borrow $2. But then I remember that minsoo gave me his 10-ride pass and it has 5 more rides on it. It expires on the 15th and I'm not going to use it, so I give the ticket to the older man and he and I make the trip to San Francisco together.
3/13/2002
neighbors
I had hoped this day would never come. Today, my new roommate (see 2/28/02 post) has befriended the neighborhood boys. It's not that I'm against him meeting new people, it's just that I hope he never lets them into our house. Is this harsh? Um, yeah, maybe. I think these feelings stem from the fact that I know the kids on our street sell drugs and that the other day there was a very angry guy outside one of the houses on our cul-de-sac banging on the door and screaming "I know you're in there!" Maybe I'm also wary because of the white-trashness of my neighborhood. Yes, I'm intimidated by the whities and I admit it. Our house is the only "colored" house in our small cul-de-sac. We're also the one with the most women (as one of our perverted neighbors pointed out to an old roommate). Yellow and Female! Call the minority police.
Story: One night I went to pick something up from my car which was parked at the end of the cul-de-sac. On my way there, our neighbor's dog ran up to me and started growling and barking, which frightened me. When I walked back to my house, my neighbor was talking to another guy on his porch about how the dog was harmless... or so I thought. It turned out he was talking to me and when I didn't respond, he said, "Okay, well I guess you don't speak English, which makes sense." It was dark, he was portly, drunk and not wearing a shirt and I was at the door to my house when he said it so I wasn't sure whether to say anything. Fear took over and I just walked into the house.
I can't wait until it gets warm. My perverted neighbor likes to get drunk and stand in front of his big window shirtless.
I had hoped this day would never come. Today, my new roommate (see 2/28/02 post) has befriended the neighborhood boys. It's not that I'm against him meeting new people, it's just that I hope he never lets them into our house. Is this harsh? Um, yeah, maybe. I think these feelings stem from the fact that I know the kids on our street sell drugs and that the other day there was a very angry guy outside one of the houses on our cul-de-sac banging on the door and screaming "I know you're in there!" Maybe I'm also wary because of the white-trashness of my neighborhood. Yes, I'm intimidated by the whities and I admit it. Our house is the only "colored" house in our small cul-de-sac. We're also the one with the most women (as one of our perverted neighbors pointed out to an old roommate). Yellow and Female! Call the minority police.
Story: One night I went to pick something up from my car which was parked at the end of the cul-de-sac. On my way there, our neighbor's dog ran up to me and started growling and barking, which frightened me. When I walked back to my house, my neighbor was talking to another guy on his porch about how the dog was harmless... or so I thought. It turned out he was talking to me and when I didn't respond, he said, "Okay, well I guess you don't speak English, which makes sense." It was dark, he was portly, drunk and not wearing a shirt and I was at the door to my house when he said it so I wasn't sure whether to say anything. Fear took over and I just walked into the house.
I can't wait until it gets warm. My perverted neighbor likes to get drunk and stand in front of his big window shirtless.
3/12/2002
her smile
One of the newest volunteers at the Meals on Wheels program that I work with is a recent transplant from China. Despite the challenges I faced understanding her English, I really enjoyed meeting with her. She has this infectious smile that never seems to go away, even when she was telling me, with tears in her eyes, how she didn't have any money, but instead had time to give to our program.
Of course, one of the first things she asked me was if I was originally from China. Sometimes I am annoyed at the comraderie that is expected when you look into another face with small eyes and black hair. But then I realize that it's also a gift. This volunteer had such a genuine heart to serve that I wished that I could have spoken her dialect so that I could have listened to what her warm personality was trying to articulate.
Today, she returned to the office for an orientation with our program coordinator. When she saw me, immediately her face lit up and she asked me for a favor. She wanted me to write down some conversation pieces so that she would know what to say when she approched clients with their meal. She was speaking so fast and was so eager for me to e-mail these sentences for her to practice that I didn't even have the chance to assure that it didn't matter what she said to them. Her smile would speak volumes.
Working with volunteers reminds me that life is not only made up of a bunch of accomplishments, experiences and lessons learned, but is also made up of human connections, some fleeting and others long-term. While I often see the challenging aspects of volunteer coordinating, I also appreciate moments when the human spirit is so evident and the willingness to serve is so pure.
One of the newest volunteers at the Meals on Wheels program that I work with is a recent transplant from China. Despite the challenges I faced understanding her English, I really enjoyed meeting with her. She has this infectious smile that never seems to go away, even when she was telling me, with tears in her eyes, how she didn't have any money, but instead had time to give to our program.
Of course, one of the first things she asked me was if I was originally from China. Sometimes I am annoyed at the comraderie that is expected when you look into another face with small eyes and black hair. But then I realize that it's also a gift. This volunteer had such a genuine heart to serve that I wished that I could have spoken her dialect so that I could have listened to what her warm personality was trying to articulate.
Today, she returned to the office for an orientation with our program coordinator. When she saw me, immediately her face lit up and she asked me for a favor. She wanted me to write down some conversation pieces so that she would know what to say when she approched clients with their meal. She was speaking so fast and was so eager for me to e-mail these sentences for her to practice that I didn't even have the chance to assure that it didn't matter what she said to them. Her smile would speak volumes.
Working with volunteers reminds me that life is not only made up of a bunch of accomplishments, experiences and lessons learned, but is also made up of human connections, some fleeting and others long-term. While I often see the challenging aspects of volunteer coordinating, I also appreciate moments when the human spirit is so evident and the willingness to serve is so pure.
3/11/2002
star struck
Asian men. Hm. To be honest, white surfer/skater dudes were more my style before I became a born-again Asian American. Growing up in southern California, there were two choices: Those sun-kissed beach babes at my high school, or those sketchy Asian characters that hung out at that coffeehouse and drove around in their rice rockets. And just because I had to be "different", I chose the former.
That is, until recently. Now, I must admit that few Asian men truly make my toes tingle. While obvious choices like Dean Cain (who is only 1/4 yellow) and Russell Wong have definitely grabbed my attention, there are rarely any of the Asian persuasion worth noting.
But there is one type of Asian man that I absolutely adore: The cuties who look innocent enough to take home to mom while actually being unconventional, and by this I mean unconventional in their aspirations or talents. An Asian guy who makes 6-figures and drives a BMW. Impressive, yes, but YAWN. An Asian guy who sings, dances and acts all while looking like the cute boy who used to sit next to you in calculus... Oh yeah.
Yes, my minsoo is all that and more. But so is the star of a recent film I saw at the Asian American film festival. It's not that he was foxy or anything. Something about him (maybe the fact that I had just seen him on the big screen) just made me blush when talking to him. I suddenly lost all hopes of speaking in complete sentences. All I could do was smile and hold out my poster for him to sign. It was pathetic. Minsoo thought it was hysterical. It also turns out that he knows Minsoo through his angry asian man page. Wow. I was so proud.
So yes, I'll admit that those hunky Asian Alpha males are very hot. But give me one of those baby-faced alternative Asian boys anytime. Mm-hm.
Asian men. Hm. To be honest, white surfer/skater dudes were more my style before I became a born-again Asian American. Growing up in southern California, there were two choices: Those sun-kissed beach babes at my high school, or those sketchy Asian characters that hung out at that coffeehouse and drove around in their rice rockets. And just because I had to be "different", I chose the former.
That is, until recently. Now, I must admit that few Asian men truly make my toes tingle. While obvious choices like Dean Cain (who is only 1/4 yellow) and Russell Wong have definitely grabbed my attention, there are rarely any of the Asian persuasion worth noting.
But there is one type of Asian man that I absolutely adore: The cuties who look innocent enough to take home to mom while actually being unconventional, and by this I mean unconventional in their aspirations or talents. An Asian guy who makes 6-figures and drives a BMW. Impressive, yes, but YAWN. An Asian guy who sings, dances and acts all while looking like the cute boy who used to sit next to you in calculus... Oh yeah.
Yes, my minsoo is all that and more. But so is the star of a recent film I saw at the Asian American film festival. It's not that he was foxy or anything. Something about him (maybe the fact that I had just seen him on the big screen) just made me blush when talking to him. I suddenly lost all hopes of speaking in complete sentences. All I could do was smile and hold out my poster for him to sign. It was pathetic. Minsoo thought it was hysterical. It also turns out that he knows Minsoo through his angry asian man page. Wow. I was so proud.
So yes, I'll admit that those hunky Asian Alpha males are very hot. But give me one of those baby-faced alternative Asian boys anytime. Mm-hm.
3/05/2002
the straight story
My new roommate is a curious boy. Over dinner (I had rice with tofu and vegetable stirfry, while he ate a left-over sandwich), he wanted to know about my other roommate (we'll call her "J") and my love life. Here's the dialogue:
him: So how long have you been dating?
me: Um, a year and 9 months... actually yesterday was our anniversary. Ha.
him: Oh! Does "J" have a boyfriend?
me: Nope.
him: (small laugh) Um, yeah, because I was wondering.... is "J" a, um, a lesbian?
....WHAT????.....
me: (almost choking on my rice) Hahahaha, um, no.
him: Yeah, well it's because her friend was over this weekend and they were kind of cuddly.
me: That's my old roommate. They're friends. I've known her since 4th grade. She's not a lesbian either.
him: Oh, okay. (laughing sheepishly)
The rest of that evening, I kept thinking about it and laughing outloud. Hi-lar-ious.
This is definitely NOT a conversation I will relay to my straight roommate. I don't think she'll appreciate the humor in it like I did.
Today, he asked both of us for some "girl" advice. I'm wondering if he needed to confirm "J's" sexual orientation before asking for dating advice. It's ironic because I think "J's" a lot more heterosexual (emphasis on sexual) than I am.
My new roommate is a curious boy. Over dinner (I had rice with tofu and vegetable stirfry, while he ate a left-over sandwich), he wanted to know about my other roommate (we'll call her "J") and my love life. Here's the dialogue:
him: So how long have you been dating?
me: Um, a year and 9 months... actually yesterday was our anniversary. Ha.
him: Oh! Does "J" have a boyfriend?
me: Nope.
him: (small laugh) Um, yeah, because I was wondering.... is "J" a, um, a lesbian?
....WHAT????.....
me: (almost choking on my rice) Hahahaha, um, no.
him: Yeah, well it's because her friend was over this weekend and they were kind of cuddly.
me: That's my old roommate. They're friends. I've known her since 4th grade. She's not a lesbian either.
him: Oh, okay. (laughing sheepishly)
The rest of that evening, I kept thinking about it and laughing outloud. Hi-lar-ious.
This is definitely NOT a conversation I will relay to my straight roommate. I don't think she'll appreciate the humor in it like I did.
Today, he asked both of us for some "girl" advice. I'm wondering if he needed to confirm "J's" sexual orientation before asking for dating advice. It's ironic because I think "J's" a lot more heterosexual (emphasis on sexual) than I am.
3/03/2002
thanks mom
After writing the perspective piece on "Flower Drum Song", I received a few kudos from family friends who enjoyed the article. It turns out that my mom has just learned how to use the "forward" button on her eudora mail system (ah, technology) and decided to practice this new skill by forwarding the e-mail I sent her with the link to my story. I got a kick out of these e-mails so I thought I'd share them.
From my "Uncle" Barry (my uncle's roommate):
[note: The e-mail was entitled "Flower Drum Suey!"]
Howdy,
Jon sent me the link to your article. This is very cool my dear. To think, before I met all of you, I used to think Chop Suey was Chinese food. No wonder I never cared for it much back then. I don't think any group ever got a realistic representation in film back then. Even White people, though they dominated most of the movies, came off as some McCarthy era stereotype. Most TV shows are still doing that today. I've yet to see "me" represented in any form of media. Maybe that is a good thing. I just wanted to let you know that I'm very proud of you, and I hope to see more great stuff. You are just getting started.
Peace,
Uncle Barry
This from a man who used to only speak to me and my sister in his Donald Duck voice.
From my Kindergarten teacher, Mrs. Stuart:
Your article sounded like a visit to our family get togethers....often times the young ones...our sons and daughters...are agast at some of the things that we did and believed in...but like your family, we usually meet somewhere in the middle and still manage to love each other!!! Really enjoyed your article.......my sister and I also KNOW ALL OF THE WORDS TO THE FLOWER DRUM SONG!!! It was one of my very favorite movies and the actors were like good friends..guess we saw it that many times!!! I enjoyed the trip down that memory lane thing!!! Hope all is well with you!!! Guess I will have to go back to the "she must have had a GREAT KINDERGARTEN TEACHER"....look how well she has done!!!
No wonder your Mom constantly brags about you!!
Keep in touch..
Joan Stuart
Thanks, Mrs. Stuart... and thank you for teaching me how to write "properly" with my left hand!
Both of my new "fans" are white... and I love them despite it ;) I was so encouraged by these e-mails. It's always affirming to know that there are people out there who are always rooting for me. While I was initially really embarrassed that my mom had exposed my latest writing effort to everyone she knows, I'm grateful for the kind words.
So I guess I should say: Thanks, mom. You were right... as always.
After writing the perspective piece on "Flower Drum Song", I received a few kudos from family friends who enjoyed the article. It turns out that my mom has just learned how to use the "forward" button on her eudora mail system (ah, technology) and decided to practice this new skill by forwarding the e-mail I sent her with the link to my story. I got a kick out of these e-mails so I thought I'd share them.
From my "Uncle" Barry (my uncle's roommate):
[note: The e-mail was entitled "Flower Drum Suey!"]
Howdy,
Jon sent me the link to your article. This is very cool my dear. To think, before I met all of you, I used to think Chop Suey was Chinese food. No wonder I never cared for it much back then. I don't think any group ever got a realistic representation in film back then. Even White people, though they dominated most of the movies, came off as some McCarthy era stereotype. Most TV shows are still doing that today. I've yet to see "me" represented in any form of media. Maybe that is a good thing. I just wanted to let you know that I'm very proud of you, and I hope to see more great stuff. You are just getting started.
Peace,
Uncle Barry
This from a man who used to only speak to me and my sister in his Donald Duck voice.
From my Kindergarten teacher, Mrs. Stuart:
Your article sounded like a visit to our family get togethers....often times the young ones...our sons and daughters...are agast at some of the things that we did and believed in...but like your family, we usually meet somewhere in the middle and still manage to love each other!!! Really enjoyed your article.......my sister and I also KNOW ALL OF THE WORDS TO THE FLOWER DRUM SONG!!! It was one of my very favorite movies and the actors were like good friends..guess we saw it that many times!!! I enjoyed the trip down that memory lane thing!!! Hope all is well with you!!! Guess I will have to go back to the "she must have had a GREAT KINDERGARTEN TEACHER"....look how well she has done!!!
No wonder your Mom constantly brags about you!!
Keep in touch..
Joan Stuart
Thanks, Mrs. Stuart... and thank you for teaching me how to write "properly" with my left hand!
Both of my new "fans" are white... and I love them despite it ;) I was so encouraged by these e-mails. It's always affirming to know that there are people out there who are always rooting for me. While I was initially really embarrassed that my mom had exposed my latest writing effort to everyone she knows, I'm grateful for the kind words.
So I guess I should say: Thanks, mom. You were right... as always.
2/28/2002
there's a reason why i don't babysit anymore
Our new roomie is, ahem, interesting. Initially we started looking for a roommate who was in their mid-20s, preferably female and with a steady job and some sort of life. Instead we got a new little brother.
My new roomie just arrived in the "big city" (aka San Jose). He's 20, pretty much just outta school (high school, that is) and knows virtually no one in the area except for his aunt who he's been living with. (Though he did mention to me that what he needs is a girlfriend. Uh buddy, can't help you out with that.)
What probably makes me a little bitter is how lucky he is. We had invited another guy into our house and he decided to move in with his co-worker. Then we went on another hunt and the other guy we were going to take didn't leave us a correct phone number. And of course, February is the shortest month. So the boy got it by default. I don't think he knows how lucky he is. Or maybe he does, as he must have said "Sweet!" at least 5 times when he visited the house today to give us the rent check.
It's not that I have anything against him. It's just that he's so, well, young. Tonight my other roommate said, "Looks like you guys are going to have to tuck him in at night."
So maybe it's the fact that he asked me if I had watched the movie "Orange County." Or maybe it's because he used the word "party" as a verb ("So you used to party a lot?"). Or could it possibly be because his mom arrived later to bring him some of his stuff in a laundry basket? All I know is that the warning signs are going off in my head.
Our new roomie is, ahem, interesting. Initially we started looking for a roommate who was in their mid-20s, preferably female and with a steady job and some sort of life. Instead we got a new little brother.
My new roomie just arrived in the "big city" (aka San Jose). He's 20, pretty much just outta school (high school, that is) and knows virtually no one in the area except for his aunt who he's been living with. (Though he did mention to me that what he needs is a girlfriend. Uh buddy, can't help you out with that.)
What probably makes me a little bitter is how lucky he is. We had invited another guy into our house and he decided to move in with his co-worker. Then we went on another hunt and the other guy we were going to take didn't leave us a correct phone number. And of course, February is the shortest month. So the boy got it by default. I don't think he knows how lucky he is. Or maybe he does, as he must have said "Sweet!" at least 5 times when he visited the house today to give us the rent check.
It's not that I have anything against him. It's just that he's so, well, young. Tonight my other roommate said, "Looks like you guys are going to have to tuck him in at night."
So maybe it's the fact that he asked me if I had watched the movie "Orange County." Or maybe it's because he used the word "party" as a verb ("So you used to party a lot?"). Or could it possibly be because his mom arrived later to bring him some of his stuff in a laundry basket? All I know is that the warning signs are going off in my head.
2/19/2002
#5
I'm trying to force myself to be more disciplined with blogging. I'm hoping that frequency doesn't equal mediocrity.
Once again, I'm in the midst of wondering what I'm going to do with my life after my Americorps program ends in June. Here are some of my random ideas (at least the ones I thought of today as they change at least once a day):
1. Get a "real" job that my dad approves of (aka job that makes more money)
2. Get a temp job and save up money and slack off until Oct/Nov when I take a family trip to Asia
3. Work around here doing some non-profit thing
4. Do some kind of urban missions
5. Do nothing.
Yeah, so far #5 seems like the option that I'm probably the most qualified to do right now.
Screw all of this do-gooder stuff.
Forget working for a change.
Ignore all of my friends who will graduate from med and law schools and make six figure salaries.
GAH! All I wanna do is a whole lotta nothing.
Of course, this will probably change tomorrow, who knows.
I'm trying to force myself to be more disciplined with blogging. I'm hoping that frequency doesn't equal mediocrity.
Once again, I'm in the midst of wondering what I'm going to do with my life after my Americorps program ends in June. Here are some of my random ideas (at least the ones I thought of today as they change at least once a day):
1. Get a "real" job that my dad approves of (aka job that makes more money)
2. Get a temp job and save up money and slack off until Oct/Nov when I take a family trip to Asia
3. Work around here doing some non-profit thing
4. Do some kind of urban missions
5. Do nothing.
Yeah, so far #5 seems like the option that I'm probably the most qualified to do right now.
Screw all of this do-gooder stuff.
Forget working for a change.
Ignore all of my friends who will graduate from med and law schools and make six figure salaries.
GAH! All I wanna do is a whole lotta nothing.
Of course, this will probably change tomorrow, who knows.
2/18/2002
poster hangers
It was comedy at its finest at Bed, Bath and Beyond on Saturday afternoon. Minsoo and I went on a search for some plastic poster hangers and this was the first stop. Here's the dialogue that took place between the salespeople and myself:
Wai-Ling: Excuse me, we're looking for poster holders. They're these long plastic things you put on the poster and... (etc.)
Employee 1: Poster holders? Oh yeah, I know what you're talking about. Yeah, a poster holder. Hang on. (Leads us over to Employee 2 & 3) Hey, do you know if we have poster holders? They're looking for poster holders. It holds posters.
Employee 2: Poster holders?
Employee 1: You know, they're these things that hold posters? It's like a poster holder, and it holds posters.
Employee 2: You mean it holds posters? Hmm... Oh yeah! What you guys are looking for are poster holders! They hold posters, you know, like a poster holder. Yeah, poster holders. Sorry, we don't have that here. Maybe Office Depot.
Employee 3: Ha ha. (Shaking his head)
Minsoo and I left the store holding our sides and stopped in the parking lot because we were laughing so hard. We could not believe the exchange that just took place. I felt like we were in some old-school comedy sketch routine.
It was comedy at its finest at Bed, Bath and Beyond on Saturday afternoon. Minsoo and I went on a search for some plastic poster hangers and this was the first stop. Here's the dialogue that took place between the salespeople and myself:
Wai-Ling: Excuse me, we're looking for poster holders. They're these long plastic things you put on the poster and... (etc.)
Employee 1: Poster holders? Oh yeah, I know what you're talking about. Yeah, a poster holder. Hang on. (Leads us over to Employee 2 & 3) Hey, do you know if we have poster holders? They're looking for poster holders. It holds posters.
Employee 2: Poster holders?
Employee 1: You know, they're these things that hold posters? It's like a poster holder, and it holds posters.
Employee 2: You mean it holds posters? Hmm... Oh yeah! What you guys are looking for are poster holders! They hold posters, you know, like a poster holder. Yeah, poster holders. Sorry, we don't have that here. Maybe Office Depot.
Employee 3: Ha ha. (Shaking his head)
Minsoo and I left the store holding our sides and stopped in the parking lot because we were laughing so hard. We could not believe the exchange that just took place. I felt like we were in some old-school comedy sketch routine.
2/14/2002
one-liners
Have you ever noticed that at the end of an article sometimes there's a short sentence about the author? Example: "John Doe likes fly-fishing, playing with his grandkids and writing about his adventures as a New York Stockbroker."
Looks easy to write, huh? Well it's not. After writing a movie review on "Flower Drum Song" for the NAATA website, I had to come up with a catchy one-liner that encompasses the essence that is Wai-Ling. Okay, not really. Here are the ones I came up with, in the order which I thought them up:
Wai-Ling
....enjoys and is not at all traumatized by watching her mom and uncles belt out show tunes during holiday gatherings.
... enjoys writing and hates being called cute.
... thinks that Parry Shen is a cutie and Roger Fan is a stud (both from Better Luck Tomorrow)
... is incredibly excited to meet Nancy Kwan and James Shigeta when Flower Drum Song is shown at the SFIAAFF on March 10.
...is having a hard time coming up with a catchy one-liner about herself
... believes that creating catchy one-liners about herself is too time consuming
... got to write this story because her boyfriend works at NAATA
In the end, I settled with:
Wai-Ling spends her days coordinating volunteers and her nights coordinating her primetime schedule. On the side, she shakes her groove thang like Nancy Kwan.
Have you ever noticed that at the end of an article sometimes there's a short sentence about the author? Example: "John Doe likes fly-fishing, playing with his grandkids and writing about his adventures as a New York Stockbroker."
Looks easy to write, huh? Well it's not. After writing a movie review on "Flower Drum Song" for the NAATA website, I had to come up with a catchy one-liner that encompasses the essence that is Wai-Ling. Okay, not really. Here are the ones I came up with, in the order which I thought them up:
Wai-Ling
....enjoys and is not at all traumatized by watching her mom and uncles belt out show tunes during holiday gatherings.
... enjoys writing and hates being called cute.
... thinks that Parry Shen is a cutie and Roger Fan is a stud (both from Better Luck Tomorrow)
... is incredibly excited to meet Nancy Kwan and James Shigeta when Flower Drum Song is shown at the SFIAAFF on March 10.
...is having a hard time coming up with a catchy one-liner about herself
... believes that creating catchy one-liners about herself is too time consuming
... got to write this story because her boyfriend works at NAATA
In the end, I settled with:
Wai-Ling spends her days coordinating volunteers and her nights coordinating her primetime schedule. On the side, she shakes her groove thang like Nancy Kwan.
1/29/2002
mystery
I'm going to have to get my own webspace soon. For the past couple of days, my blog has looked sorta funny. Didn't you notice that random 1/24 posting? Well, I just posted something and magically, it fixed itself... too spooky. One day I'm going to get off my lazy butt and actually create my own blog instead of biting off of blogger's templates.
Speaking of biting off templates.... Check out my good buddy's page: Choochy's blog. I didn't even know it existed until a few weeks ago. Honest.
I'm going to have to get my own webspace soon. For the past couple of days, my blog has looked sorta funny. Didn't you notice that random 1/24 posting? Well, I just posted something and magically, it fixed itself... too spooky. One day I'm going to get off my lazy butt and actually create my own blog instead of biting off of blogger's templates.
Speaking of biting off templates.... Check out my good buddy's page: Choochy's blog. I didn't even know it existed until a few weeks ago. Honest.
1/23/2002
besides the bronchitis thing...
The whole bronchitis thing distracted me from sharing about what I've been up to since Thanksgiving... here's the short and skinny on the past few months:
1. Coordinating volunteers to deliver meals to seniors and disabled people on the holidays through my organization's Meals on Wheels program. This was the first holiday meal delivery that our program has ever done! This meant that I did not spend Christmas or New Year's with my family and was not on the scheduled week-long vacation that everyone else in my program went on. I think Jan 1st was the day when my body said ENOUGH! and I got sick.
2. Organizing a Martin Luther King Jr Day event for almost 100 high school students in the Silicon Valley. Although I was sick for the crucial last weeks of planning, my team and I felt that our event went extremely well. The speakers were great and engaging, a lot of people came and the day went off without any major hitches. Gooooo event planning team! Our type A personality team rocks!
3. Currently I'm developing a short 5-minute presentation (with visuals and hand-outs) that I have to give to some of the people in my program this weekend on our annual mid-year retreat. Ugh to both the retreat and the presentation.
So yeah, on top of all this, there's the bronchitis thing. I took my last dose of antibiotics last night (woo hoo!!) but had to make a trip to the ER on Saturday night when I was having a hard time breathing. Ugh.
Being sick is stressful because I feel very powerless. My mind says that I need to do about 20 things right now, but my body says that I can only do one thing - rest. Most people would say, hey, that's great, I can just hang out and chill for awhile. But since I have all of these things hanging over my head, rest just doesn't feel, well, restful. Once again, this goes back to my need to have control. While I can help my body heal, it has to work itself out - I can't fix it and make it all better right away. This is very frustrating.
The whole bronchitis thing distracted me from sharing about what I've been up to since Thanksgiving... here's the short and skinny on the past few months:
1. Coordinating volunteers to deliver meals to seniors and disabled people on the holidays through my organization's Meals on Wheels program. This was the first holiday meal delivery that our program has ever done! This meant that I did not spend Christmas or New Year's with my family and was not on the scheduled week-long vacation that everyone else in my program went on. I think Jan 1st was the day when my body said ENOUGH! and I got sick.
2. Organizing a Martin Luther King Jr Day event for almost 100 high school students in the Silicon Valley. Although I was sick for the crucial last weeks of planning, my team and I felt that our event went extremely well. The speakers were great and engaging, a lot of people came and the day went off without any major hitches. Gooooo event planning team! Our type A personality team rocks!
3. Currently I'm developing a short 5-minute presentation (with visuals and hand-outs) that I have to give to some of the people in my program this weekend on our annual mid-year retreat. Ugh to both the retreat and the presentation.
So yeah, on top of all this, there's the bronchitis thing. I took my last dose of antibiotics last night (woo hoo!!) but had to make a trip to the ER on Saturday night when I was having a hard time breathing. Ugh.
Being sick is stressful because I feel very powerless. My mind says that I need to do about 20 things right now, but my body says that I can only do one thing - rest. Most people would say, hey, that's great, I can just hang out and chill for awhile. But since I have all of these things hanging over my head, rest just doesn't feel, well, restful. Once again, this goes back to my need to have control. While I can help my body heal, it has to work itself out - I can't fix it and make it all better right away. This is very frustrating.
1/14/2002
county med
2:30-3am, Sunday morning. When I walked into valley medical center's ER with a heavy chest and a tight cough, all I could think about was how I wanted to feel well again. I sat in the waiting room for almost three stinking hours in a county hospital waiting room probably comparable to a boring episode of ER.
5am. I was still in the waiting room. The thing was, all I had was a painful cough. I could have been in and out in 30 minutes. A person had to be bleeding, pregnant or near death to get any service (believe me, I saw a few of these people who were immediately shuttled in). After evesdropping on people in the waiting room, I learned that the average time to see a doctor seemed to be about 6 hours. SIX HOURS!? My roommate Jia came with me and I had her track down other locations that I could go to because obviously I was going to have to wait until daylight to see a doctor. We headed off to o'connor hospital (a private hopital) where the waiting room was deserted. I was escorted into a room in less than 30 minutes and diagnosed with bronchitis with a possibility of walking pneumonia. After an EKG and a chest X-ray, I was given a prescription for two types of medication and an inhalor type device.
7am. Jia and I walked out of the hospital. the sun was rising and the birds were chirping. We headed off to walgreens to get my medication and then headed home. Oh my goodness.
I guess I could chalk it up as "one of those experiences". But as I left o'connor hopital at 7am, I couldn't help thinking about those people that I had sat with in the waiting room at valley med. I wondered if they were still waiting to see a doctor at 7am. I'm sure that valley med was packed with those who could not afford insurance and possibly illegal immigrants who don't even qualify for insurance. While I had a choice of which facility i could go to for emergency services (I picked valley med because it was closer), I'm wondering how many of those people could not go anywhere but the county hospital.
I work at a non-profit community health organization that, among other services, provides insurance for kids in low-income families. After seeing the disparity between those who are fortunate to receive prompt and personal care and others who have no choice but to wait 6 hours to see a doctor, it made me realize how vital quality health services are. Sunday morning's adventures reminded me how fortunate I am to have health insurance and amazed at the process that you have to go through if you're sick or hurt and have no way to pay for these services.
So I guess this fiasco gave me a renewed sense of admiration for my friends studying to be in the medical profession and a greater understanding of the value of the organization I work for. I guess in almost every situation, there's always something to think about.
2:30-3am, Sunday morning. When I walked into valley medical center's ER with a heavy chest and a tight cough, all I could think about was how I wanted to feel well again. I sat in the waiting room for almost three stinking hours in a county hospital waiting room probably comparable to a boring episode of ER.
5am. I was still in the waiting room. The thing was, all I had was a painful cough. I could have been in and out in 30 minutes. A person had to be bleeding, pregnant or near death to get any service (believe me, I saw a few of these people who were immediately shuttled in). After evesdropping on people in the waiting room, I learned that the average time to see a doctor seemed to be about 6 hours. SIX HOURS!? My roommate Jia came with me and I had her track down other locations that I could go to because obviously I was going to have to wait until daylight to see a doctor. We headed off to o'connor hospital (a private hopital) where the waiting room was deserted. I was escorted into a room in less than 30 minutes and diagnosed with bronchitis with a possibility of walking pneumonia. After an EKG and a chest X-ray, I was given a prescription for two types of medication and an inhalor type device.
7am. Jia and I walked out of the hospital. the sun was rising and the birds were chirping. We headed off to walgreens to get my medication and then headed home. Oh my goodness.
I guess I could chalk it up as "one of those experiences". But as I left o'connor hopital at 7am, I couldn't help thinking about those people that I had sat with in the waiting room at valley med. I wondered if they were still waiting to see a doctor at 7am. I'm sure that valley med was packed with those who could not afford insurance and possibly illegal immigrants who don't even qualify for insurance. While I had a choice of which facility i could go to for emergency services (I picked valley med because it was closer), I'm wondering how many of those people could not go anywhere but the county hospital.
I work at a non-profit community health organization that, among other services, provides insurance for kids in low-income families. After seeing the disparity between those who are fortunate to receive prompt and personal care and others who have no choice but to wait 6 hours to see a doctor, it made me realize how vital quality health services are. Sunday morning's adventures reminded me how fortunate I am to have health insurance and amazed at the process that you have to go through if you're sick or hurt and have no way to pay for these services.
So I guess this fiasco gave me a renewed sense of admiration for my friends studying to be in the medical profession and a greater understanding of the value of the organization I work for. I guess in almost every situation, there's always something to think about.
11/27/2001
annual brush with stardom
Guess who was at the coffee place when we were last Friday? Yes, Shaquille O'Neal. I was so concerned about not running into anyone I knew, I didn't even notice someone that everyone always brags about running into. One of my friend's friends who happened to be there when we were (see what I mean?) saw him.
Last Thanksgiving, I was hanging out again in LA with a few friends when I saw Jennifer Lopez and Puff Daddy (aka J.Lo and P.Diddy). I guess running into stars must be a yearly event. Ah, my life is so glamorous. Ha.
Guess who was at the coffee place when we were last Friday? Yes, Shaquille O'Neal. I was so concerned about not running into anyone I knew, I didn't even notice someone that everyone always brags about running into. One of my friend's friends who happened to be there when we were (see what I mean?) saw him.
Last Thanksgiving, I was hanging out again in LA with a few friends when I saw Jennifer Lopez and Puff Daddy (aka J.Lo and P.Diddy). I guess running into stars must be a yearly event. Ah, my life is so glamorous. Ha.
11/24/2001
old friends
It's really late and I couldn't sleep. I just keep thinking about tonight and how our lives are so interconnected... Here's what happened:
There is always the possibility for an uncomfortable, awkward, shocking run-in with an old friend/acquaintance/classmate when I return home for the holidays. Normally I prefer to hide in my house and only make quick outings to meet up with select friends in more secluded settings. However today I met up with three friends, one for an afternoon coffee and the other two for late-night dessert/coffee. The potential for the ever-so awkward "oh, hey, um, so what are you doing now?" conversation doubled during the second rendezvous with my two friends.
The risky part: We decided to go to a coffee shop that's notorious for random run-ins. Since I was with my two friends, I figured, hey, strength in numbers, right? It turns out that one of my closest friends from high school, whom I lost contact with when I went off to college, works there. It took the entire 3 hours that we were there for me to run-in to her. It was great to see her and I was definitely taken aback to see her. Along with seeing an old friend, I also noticed an entire table of people who I met through a friend's church. I avoided their glances and they managed to leave without having the dreaded awkward conversation. Phew. That story is for another entry.
Bumping into people you know whom you haven't seen in ages is kinda stressful for me in that I never know what to say and in my mind I'm thinking, gosh, did I make any sort of effort to keep in touch? Are they happy to see me and just as weirded out? How do I look? Yes indeed, I do think about the third question a lot although I hate to admit it. Anyway, I'm kinda reeling in that I've seen a lot of old friends today and talked a lot about the past. It's kinda nice to be talking about old times as I've been so focused on the work that I've been doing.
Okay, so sure, the run-in wasn't so random as I went to a place notorious for this. However, I'm thankful for these random run-ins, however awkward, because I know that in these brief meetings, I often reconnect with people who were a very significant part of my life. Maybe next time I'm at home, I'll think more about coming out of hiding and reconnecting with those who were in my life, even if we have grown up and grown apart.
It's really late and I couldn't sleep. I just keep thinking about tonight and how our lives are so interconnected... Here's what happened:
There is always the possibility for an uncomfortable, awkward, shocking run-in with an old friend/acquaintance/classmate when I return home for the holidays. Normally I prefer to hide in my house and only make quick outings to meet up with select friends in more secluded settings. However today I met up with three friends, one for an afternoon coffee and the other two for late-night dessert/coffee. The potential for the ever-so awkward "oh, hey, um, so what are you doing now?" conversation doubled during the second rendezvous with my two friends.
The risky part: We decided to go to a coffee shop that's notorious for random run-ins. Since I was with my two friends, I figured, hey, strength in numbers, right? It turns out that one of my closest friends from high school, whom I lost contact with when I went off to college, works there. It took the entire 3 hours that we were there for me to run-in to her. It was great to see her and I was definitely taken aback to see her. Along with seeing an old friend, I also noticed an entire table of people who I met through a friend's church. I avoided their glances and they managed to leave without having the dreaded awkward conversation. Phew. That story is for another entry.
Bumping into people you know whom you haven't seen in ages is kinda stressful for me in that I never know what to say and in my mind I'm thinking, gosh, did I make any sort of effort to keep in touch? Are they happy to see me and just as weirded out? How do I look? Yes indeed, I do think about the third question a lot although I hate to admit it. Anyway, I'm kinda reeling in that I've seen a lot of old friends today and talked a lot about the past. It's kinda nice to be talking about old times as I've been so focused on the work that I've been doing.
Okay, so sure, the run-in wasn't so random as I went to a place notorious for this. However, I'm thankful for these random run-ins, however awkward, because I know that in these brief meetings, I often reconnect with people who were a very significant part of my life. Maybe next time I'm at home, I'll think more about coming out of hiding and reconnecting with those who were in my life, even if we have grown up and grown apart.
11/01/2001
thanks gorgeous
The first rainy day of the season was on Tuesday and of course, I was recruited to fill in as a volunteer for a Meals on Wheels route. Since I’m supposed to do “site visits” for all the programs I work with, I agreed to brave the rain and pack up my car. Besides, I loved seeing the faces of those senior citizens and disabled people when I delivered their meals at lunchtime.
Everything was going smoothly – that is, until I made my first delivery. Apparently my car decided that locking the door when the engine is running is a good idea, regardless of whether there’s anyone in the car or not. So after I delivered the meal, I ran through the heavy sprinkle, to discover that I had locked my keys in my car with the engine running. Luckily I left my trunk open.
My initial reaction was one of horror – “I’m the volunteer coordinator and I can’t even coordinate my own volunteer efforts!” and then panic “Oh no, the meals… those poor old people will starve!” and then madness “I think I can use the heel of my boot to break the window…” I spent a half an hour on the phone at the client’s home – i'm thinking oh my goodness, he’s disabled and can barely walk and I’m in there asking to borrow a hanger, his phone… I felt like I was horribly abusing him and hoped that my stupidity wouldn’t reflect poorly on the Meals on Wheels program. I learned a few things from this experience:
1. I’m no longer on my parent’s AAA plan. Oh, so this is why I need to get my own AAA membership…
2. Cell phones are a useless “security measure” if they’re locked securely in the car and you aren’t.
3. Locking your keys in the car with the engine running is very stupid and can be accomplished by even the most rational and intelligent human being.
So after calling AAA and promising them I’d pay when the tow truck driver came, I managed to use a long stick-like thing in my car to open the window (which was already open a crack). Ah. I was only 30 minutes delayed in delivering the meals, but I know that older people rely on the routine for their health. When I finally arrived at the homes, they were all so thankful. They greeted me with comments like “Thanks gorgeous” and “I hope your day goes better.” I was touched by their understanding and thankful for their gratefulness. Once again, I’m humbled by examples of mercy and grace, things I so desperately need but often fail to give.
The first rainy day of the season was on Tuesday and of course, I was recruited to fill in as a volunteer for a Meals on Wheels route. Since I’m supposed to do “site visits” for all the programs I work with, I agreed to brave the rain and pack up my car. Besides, I loved seeing the faces of those senior citizens and disabled people when I delivered their meals at lunchtime.
Everything was going smoothly – that is, until I made my first delivery. Apparently my car decided that locking the door when the engine is running is a good idea, regardless of whether there’s anyone in the car or not. So after I delivered the meal, I ran through the heavy sprinkle, to discover that I had locked my keys in my car with the engine running. Luckily I left my trunk open.
My initial reaction was one of horror – “I’m the volunteer coordinator and I can’t even coordinate my own volunteer efforts!” and then panic “Oh no, the meals… those poor old people will starve!” and then madness “I think I can use the heel of my boot to break the window…” I spent a half an hour on the phone at the client’s home – i'm thinking oh my goodness, he’s disabled and can barely walk and I’m in there asking to borrow a hanger, his phone… I felt like I was horribly abusing him and hoped that my stupidity wouldn’t reflect poorly on the Meals on Wheels program. I learned a few things from this experience:
1. I’m no longer on my parent’s AAA plan. Oh, so this is why I need to get my own AAA membership…
2. Cell phones are a useless “security measure” if they’re locked securely in the car and you aren’t.
3. Locking your keys in the car with the engine running is very stupid and can be accomplished by even the most rational and intelligent human being.
So after calling AAA and promising them I’d pay when the tow truck driver came, I managed to use a long stick-like thing in my car to open the window (which was already open a crack). Ah. I was only 30 minutes delayed in delivering the meals, but I know that older people rely on the routine for their health. When I finally arrived at the homes, they were all so thankful. They greeted me with comments like “Thanks gorgeous” and “I hope your day goes better.” I was touched by their understanding and thankful for their gratefulness. Once again, I’m humbled by examples of mercy and grace, things I so desperately need but often fail to give.
10/16/2001
let there be light!
On Friday, they fixed the electricity in my bathroom (I took a shower just to celebrate the occassion) and set up the cable. I can't believe I spent two weeks showering, peeing, etc in almost total darkness.
On Sunday morning I participated in the Walk for AIDS in San Jose. I was only able to walk the shortened route because I had to get to church, but it was quite moving. The last part of the walk was called "Memory Lane" and featured moving facts about AIDS. When we got to the path, I noticed that everyone was so quiet. It was pretty moving.
On Friday, they fixed the electricity in my bathroom (I took a shower just to celebrate the occassion) and set up the cable. I can't believe I spent two weeks showering, peeing, etc in almost total darkness.
On Sunday morning I participated in the Walk for AIDS in San Jose. I was only able to walk the shortened route because I had to get to church, but it was quite moving. The last part of the walk was called "Memory Lane" and featured moving facts about AIDS. When we got to the path, I noticed that everyone was so quiet. It was pretty moving.
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