Log 6.5: Archery, Inception and a Burger

Much has happened since my last update two weeks ago. The following is the fifth of a six-part series. 

This is Part 5: Archery, Inception and a Burger


Archery
As part of orientation, we signed up for various optional extracurricular activities.  I signed up to participate in Archery.  Three days ago, a group of us went to the former training grounds for the Korean Olympic Archery team to learn from a former Olympics coach (who now coaches other Olympic coaches).  The Korean archery team is famous for being one of--if not--the best in the world, often sweeping gold medals at the Olympic Games.

 We're newbies, so these targets were ten meters away.

 Olympic distance is 70meters away; the ones way in the back covered in the green tarp.

 The scenery was nice.

The bows...

The man in blue whose back is to us is the coach.

Me, Nora, and Grace.

I hit two "bulls-eye"s, one red, and the rest blue, black or white.  One friend from Montana had only tried this once for twenty minutes but hit nearly every arrow in the bulls-eye mark.  She had gone hunting with rifles before (Montana) and said the principles were similar.

Trying.

Yes, it was as fun as it looks.

Log6.4: Dancing the Stress Away

Much has happened since my last update two weeks ago.  The following is the fourth of a six-part series.

This is Part 4: Dancing the Stress Away

I have been listening to a lot of music...but not Korean music.  It's been interesting how you sometimes gain an appreciation for the things that you had when you become distant from those things.

I have a large collection of music, and as I listen to the songs I inevitably run into songs that evoke memories of my dancing days; mainly salsa and swing.  And for the past two weeks, I had been DYING to get back into social dancing (it is an incredibly small niche in Korea; most everyone has never done social dancing).


So I asked around among my ETA friends, and lo-and-behold we have dancers.  Good ones.  Many know swing and salsa so we decided to make something happen.

The first night, five people showed up and we hosted lessons on the basics.  Two nights ago (Sunday) we had a group of maybe 20, 6 of who were the language teachers (and who ended up being the most unfamiliar with and consequently most enthusiastic learners).  Tonight I missed the third lesson to catch up here online (we're reviewing basics).


The extent to which I felt rejuvenated and alive after salsa-dancing with another ETA for just three songs and swing-dancing for just two songs astounded me.  Dance--much less social dance--is a small niche even in America but which has gained prominence with the rise of popular TV shows.  Here, dance is incredibly popular but the idea of social dancing is unheard of, especially in light of the social conservatism still upheld with respect to dating and the gender divide.  It exists, but I think it is a tiny --but lively, as all groups of dancers tend to be--community in Korea.  I look forward to finding opportunities that will help me recall my dancing shoes.

Log6.3: A Musical Renaissance

Much has happened since my last update two weeks ago. The following is the third of a six-part series. 

This is Part 3: A Musical Renaissance


Everyone told me that I should continue to play music after I graduate.  I couldn't tell you then or now how exactly I will be involved with music, but it seemed only right that I do.  I just can't seem to separate myself from this metal pipe of an instrument, and--ipso facto--music.

Since I've arrived in Korea I can't count...3? 4 days in which I failed to practice.  Of course, we must understand the term "practice" lightly, for I am not attending to the once rigors of scales, arpeggios and etudes I once used to.  By "practice," I could mean anything from an hour to ten minutes.  I know that daily and continued playing--even just touching the flute each day--can play a significant role in the long run.  Eventually, word got around that I play the flute, and there is an incredible pool of amazing musicians in this group of ETAs.  I have been happily surprised.


I met Emily (or more famously called EKG after her initials), an officer who works at the Fulbright office in Seoul .  After hearing her fantastic violin playing at an impromptu performance at Haeinsa, I had hoped to speak to her regarding musical opportunities in Korea.  Not two weeks later, I would be performing five pieces with her and another ETA pianist for over 120 students and staff!

She was asked by Camp Fulbright (see Log6.2: On Pedagogy) to perform something for the campers on Music day.  She approached me knowing that I had my instrument and asked if I wanted to collaborate and I of course readily agreed.  We recruited another ETA who happened to be a brilliant pianist, and together we rehearsed for maybe two hours in total and performed for the students.  We played a Telemann duet, the "Flower Duet" from the Lakme opera by Delibes, and three movements from a trio written by an Italian composer Cui.  


The last time I collaborated with other musicians--much less rehearse and perform with them--was more than two months ago.  I had not realized how much I missed it, but while rehearsing with these two fabulous musicians, I remembered the vitality, the energy, and the inexplicably divine and pure joy music gave me.  To stand there and immerse myself in the music and become lost--even if only for a moment--in a world beyond our own was the most refreshing break I had since arriving in Korea.  And to share this experience with the 100+ campers and their staff in addition to the musicians with whom I collaborated...well, that was just enchanting.

Log6.6: These are a Few of the Things that I Miss

Much has happened since my last update two weeks ago. The following is the last of a six-part series.

This is Part 6: These are a few of the Things That I Miss

1) Brother:

I called my brother yesterday afternoon (KO Monday afternoon = CA Sunday evening) for the first time since I got to Korea, and wow did I miss him.  I didn't know just how much I did until I began listening to his voice, seeing his face in my mind, and feeling numerous pangs in my stomach, my face become hot, and my vision blur with tears and my voice tremble a bit.  I composed myself of course, and I know he didn't notice, but my powerful visceral reaction to hearing his voice was a surprise even I didn't see coming.  I guess you can say we have a close relationship.

2) Friends:

Here's a public note to a couple of my dear friends (and for everyone not mentioned, it's not personal; I do miss you all sincerely):

I. Dear TJ Lane

I'm sorry I haven't contacted you personally for so long.  I will do so soon, if even only for my own sake.  But remember that Nalgene you got me for my birthday last year?  And you know how much you like to see your gifts being used well?


You can't see it yourself, but believe me when I say that the water bottle and I have become inseparable.  I remember misplacing it once and I was under extreme duress for the next three hours until a friend found it for me.  It has become an absolute requirement, a lifeline, a part of me.  I have it every time I leave my room; to workshops, language classes, anything, everything.  

Thanks.



II. Dear Nick Gerber

i) I don't know if you've read "Log6.2: On Pedagogy" yet but let me tell you that your help was essential to the success of my last lesson, not only for your pedagogical advice but the basic framework which you outlined for me and which launched my lesson plan in big ways.  The kids were engaged, focused, and walked out probably a bit tired but more importantly thinking, and thinking critically about these issues.  Thank you.


ii) I have befriended a Pitzer 2010er who is here with me now and whom I had met at the CORO Fellowship finalists interview day.  Who would have guessed that he would quickly become one of my closest friends with whom I have connected very well, in part because he reminds me of our relationship SO MUCH.  Seeing his mannerisms, the way he speaks, his conversational style, his body posture, his sincerity, his warmth and a big-brother-type aura he exudes are all so incredibly similar that I could easily deny this as mere coincidence; that there is something else in the works, a grand plan, some eerie twilight-zone/parallel-universe thing going.  Remember our freshman year?  That's what it's been feeling like with this guy. 


In any case, this is not to take away from either you or him as human beings or undermine the different relationships we have built and will build, but I just thought I would share with you this interesting peculiarity in my life. 


Miss you, babe.

Josh and Chris, if you're reading this, no I'm not gay.  *sigh* And don't worry, I miss you guys too.

3) Weather

Today I dipped my shirt in a pool of warm water and let it soak there for twenty minutes.  By this, I mean that I played basketball for thirty minutes.


"Dry" is not a concept extant in Korea, apparently (not true, not extant in the summer; it's very dry in the winter).  The humidity level is absurd, and the actual heat from the sun has not helped any.  Thank goodness for air-conditioning, because otherwise none of these electronic devices would be functioning properly (due to moisture; exaggeration, but only slight).


4) Mexican Food

The first time I had a burger in the past six weeks was two days ago.  What makes you think Mexican is something even remotely conceivable by my neck-of-the-woods?

So apparently there are a few good Mexican restaurants in Seoul.  But really the past few weeks have involved at least one person a day saying, "I know I shouldn't say this but...I would die for a [insert taco, burrito, quesadilla, or other stereotypically Mexican food]."  Oh my friends, it has been difficult.  Oh my friends, I do miss these things called chips, nachos, burritos, pinto, black, salsa, guacamole...

Cherish them.  Eat them for me.  


I go to Seoul this weekend.  The first thing I want to have will be these foods.


5) Wine

Wine is not common here in Korea.  It's not consumed, and it's not produced well.  If produced, it is often fake.  If imported, it is imported often from other Asian countries who also fake it.  The alcoholic staples here are soju and bland beer.  

Two nice cabernet-sauvignons are sitting above my bed right now.  I brought them as gifts to give to my 1) school principal and 2) host family.

I have since bought an imported white for cheap, scraped off the import label, and have decided to substitute that for one of the reds which I myself will consume, hopefully on my birthday. 

I want some wine. 

Log6.25: Log6.2 Interpolation

Much has happened since my last update two weeks ago. The following is an interpolation of the second part of a six-part series.


This is the Part 2: On Pedagogy, INTERPOLATION

NOTE: As of August 25, 2010 the blog has become public, and as such the contents of the following entry have been revised.

The following is a true story.

As many of you may know by now, none of the Claremont Colleges (henceforth the 5C's) are knock-off schools.  At least, I respect them.  There are of course intercollegiate dynamics that have been popularized by the media and to some extent we have lived up to.  Such instances aside, we are predominantly intellecutally driven, ambitious and accomplished individuals.  Last year's Fulbright ETA Korea class consisted of at least one representative from each of the 5C's except for Harvey Mudd, and this year there are--albiet homogeneous--six of us: one Pomona (yours truly) and five Pitzer.

The mentor for my one of my lessons was a graduate of [insert 5C college name].  This year's class introduced ourselves earlier in the week to her, so she knew I was the lone Pomona; and I knew she was [insert college name].

I sit down with her to go over my "Stereotypes" lesson plan the evening before I teach it.  I enter the room, say hello, she says hello back, and as I sit down the following are verbatim the first words from her lips:

"So, I read your lesson plan and it's very Pomona...(she had a clear emphasis on my alma mater)"

I'm sorry, what?  Oh, yeah, that, yes; well, yes, I did attend Pomona College.  Thank you for reminding me of this invaluable fact.  I am grateful that you could identify that most crucial and overwhelmingly relevant element of my lesson plan and remind me of it.  How do you think I can incorporate my alma mater's name into becoming a better teacher?  How could I apply this fact to my lesson plans?  Do you think the fact that I attended Pomona College should be something I impart unto my disciples in the future?

DUDE, WHO CARES?! 

Apparently, she did very much because she continued to drop my alma mater's name, turning the Roman goddess of fruit tress into an adjective she could wield as a weapon to impart characteristics and judgment less unto the lesson plan and more unto me.

It was a revealing moment about one Claremont Colleges student, and it was rather disheartening to see.  Perhaps she doesn't care, or didn't even notice, but this was the first time I had heard somebody even mention my school name since graduation!  Having been here meeting these wonderful people, the last thing I remember about a person is which school he/she went to, because frankly that's not relevant!  At all!  So why is that something so subliminally haunting your critique of my lesson plan?

I'm making it sound like a bigger deal than it is.  I simply smiled, marked it with a small asteriks among my day's activities, and quickly became lost in whatever actually mattered.  It's fun to look back on it though, hehe.

What I can say is that the incident failed to improve my image of [insert college name] students.  This has nothing to do with what my initial images of [insert college name] students are; just that the incident help improve them.

But it's okay, because one of my closest friends is a [insert college name] graduate and he is one of the brightest and most enjoyable human beings to be around. 

...

What does it say though if he didn't actually like [insert college name] much?

Log6.2: On Pedagogy

Much has happened since my last update two weeks ago. The following is the second of a six-part series.  

This is Part 2: On Pedagogy

Two weeks ago in "Log5," I described my excitement and anticipation for my first ever classroom teaching experience.  Two weeks have gone, and I have now taught three full classes on different topics.  This entry is about those experiences.

"Camp Fulbright" hosted the top elementary, middle, and young high school students to a two-week English immersion camp.  The camp provided a space for not only these young students to learn, but also us to practice teaching, many of us for the first time.  Each day of camp had a certain academic/non-academic theme; I taught on the days of music, literature, and social studies, in that order.

This is the way the show ran: I taught a 50-minute class, my co-teacher teaches a 50-minute class, and we both get feedback from a host teacher who observed and gave us feedback in private.


Lesson 1: "My Girl can Rhyme" (Music)

I opened with a short introduction, during which the twelve middle school students displayed an indistinguishable reaction of surprise, elation, and disappointment at the sign of my name which is as American as the USSR was in the 1970's and as emblematically Korean as kim-chi.  This reaction, I think, would not prove insignificant.


I told the students that 'My Girl' was from 1964, and they "ooh"-ed and "ah"-ed in ways that made me feel, perhaps for the first time, like someone behind the times.  Nevertheless, they loved the song.  We played 'Telephone' with each of the three teams of four relaying one line from the song to each other.  The game proved much more successful than it might have seemed.


So we went over the vocabulary words then proceeded to listen to the rhyme schemes.  Afterward I asked them to work in groups and partners to come up with their own rhymes, but the worksheet proved far too difficult.  That, or I just didn't set it up well enough, and the activity rather tanked.  Some students "got it," but many were left behind.  50 minutes passed, and John was up next: a Paul Buyan-esque, red-headed Viking-like 6'3" Southerner from Georgia. 

I remember getting down on myself after seeing how well John did; he nailed it.  His subsequent lessons all proved to be wonderful successes despite his lack of teaching experience.  I guess he was made for this job.

I don't want to undermine his fantastic presence and incredible execution of the lessons, but I did also feel that in a nation so easily enraptured by the apparent and so quickly seduced by the aesthetic (by this I mean the hyper-sensitivity to body image and the extreme cosmopolitanism), a Viking-esque man who would stick out like a sore thumb even in America would surely command more attention from the audience than an explicitly Korean man when given the same stage; he's different, SO different.  


I know I know, everyone has different ways of teaching, no two people have the same learning curves, each person has his/her strengths, etc.  I'm certainly not attributing pedagogical differences to our different ethnicity, of course not, but I am simply willing to ponder what influences this transparent subtlety may have on the students' learning.


In any case, the teacher thought it went pretty well and pointed to classroom management and conclusion of class times as a couple of things I could work on.


Lesson 2: "A Little Alliteration" (Literature)

After looking at the texts I brought with me from the states(DFW's Consider the Lobster or Alex Haley's Autobiography of Malcolm X), I realized that the same group of students would not be ready for such a deep discussion.  So after some thought, I thought alliteration would work well.  And it worked wonderfully...sort of.


To start off class, I recited to them the "V" monologue from V for Vendetta.  This hooked them in quite quickly, since my recitation of the monologue was imbued with my inner desire to perform it.  They quickly picked up on the theme, and we dove into tongue twisters.


First we played Tongue Twister games; three teams of four race to see which one can first complete the 'Peter Piper' tongue twister perfectly, with each member reciting one line from the verse.  That went over well, and they were really very good.


Then we played another game called "Dialogue."  This timed class activity entails each person to read one line from a whole passage.  The catch is that each knows only the line he/she must speak, and the line that precedes it.  Each student must hence listen to their classmates and speak their line in turn.* 

*SAMPLE SLIP: "When you hear: Bobby Bippy bought a bat/Read aloud: Bobby Bippy bought a ball."


This became a huge success, and after each round the students wanted to better their times.  The first time took 2 minutes, the second time took 50 seconds.  Then they imposed a "30second challenge" on themselves to try to say the 12-line passage under 30 seconds.  


They completed it in 27 seconds. The class erupted as if Korea had won the World Cup.


So they got the idea, and I shared with them how such alliteration can be used in poems.  I used Nothing Gold Can Stay by Robert Frost, then gave them Shel Silverstein's Sarah Cynthia Sylvia Stout Would Not Take the Garbage Out as a worksheet.  

The games sapped their energies and the worksheet proved too long.  

Overall though I walked out feeling much better about my teaching skills.  The CI (mentor) had many great things to say, reassuring me that many of the kids were just so sleep-deprived and tired that their lack of energy after the game was not my fault.  I will cut myself some slack and say these kids had a ridiculous schedule.


Lesson 3: "Gender and Racial Stereotypes" (Social Studies)


By far the most ambitious, but also the most successful of my three lessons, I walked out this lesson feeling great.*  I had my doubts placated once my mentor told me that my lesson was "one of the best lesson plans executed for student-centered learning."  I couldn't help but say back to her "Holy sh%#, thank you wow, sorry for my French." Needless to say, I was floored.


*This was a whole different class, by the way; new students, new mentor.  This was the first and last time I would teach this group of students.


Okay, Academy Awards aside, personal thanks to Nick for helping and inspiring me to make this plan work.  I wrote him an e-mail asking him to "brief" me on some of the issues and draw from his pedagogical experience, and he went overboard and out of his way to help me.  


I start with the riddle about a boy who gets in a car accident with his father, goes to the hospital and is seen by the doctor who says, "I cannot operate on my son."  The riddle questions how the dead father can suddenly be the doctor, but reveals the general prejudice that doctors are male and cannot be the mother of the son.  I don't tell the end of the riddle until the end of class.


I play two-truths-and-a-lie about myself after my self-introduction.  This is to get them to start thinking about racial/ethnic stereotypes.  1) I was born in Korea (True; a few thought it was a lie); 2) I was a speed skater (True; almost all thought it was a lie) 3) I have an "American" name (False; only two guessed correctly that this was the lie--ie everyone else assumed I had a stereotypically American name).  When I wrote my name up on the board, it was interesting to see their reactions; quite contrary to the first class I taught.


I then played the Agree/Disagree exercise; go to one side of the room if you agree with a statement, and the other side if you disagree.  

We are in the USA. Obvious; all disagreed.  

This tie is blue. Obvious; all agreed.

Men are stronger than women.  All women disagreed; all men agreed (FASCINATING, NO?!)


Women are better cooks than men.  Two women agreed; all others disagreed.


Then we just brainstormed on the board; things about men, then things about women.  Then the class split into teams of four and rotated around poster stations where they would do the same about other racial categories: Indians, White Americans, African Americans, and Koreans.  Then we debriefed.


These students were not typical Korean students, for they were, as the coordinators told us, the best and the brightest.  Their awareness of these stereotypes was impressive; one student saw that "poor" was written by the African American bubble, and reacted to write a 'nullifying' "rich" next to it.  


Still, the exercise proved rich with ideas and concepts.  The students were engaged and engrossed by the activity, visibly grappling and struggling with the adjectives and nouns that arose in their heads.  The clearest example was the lack of words and descriptions given to Indians (of continental Asia) versus those given to Koreans; the sheer quantity of bubbles was incomparable.  And I pointed that out to them.  And as I walked around the classroom to share with the students what they all had come up with collectively, I was astounded by the number of pairs of eyes that followed me intently.  Clearly, they had taken some interest to what I had to say, and the conclusions that we 


I finally concluded with the vocabulary word of the day, which was "stereotype."  I tied it back to the riddle, the two-truths-and-a-lie, and finished with a story about Jeremy Lin, a friend from Palo Alto with whom I went to elementary and middle schools and who after graduating from Harvard this year is now drafted by the Golden State Warriors.  He is Taiwanese, and is right now hanging out with Yao Ming for his foundation.



My objective for this lesson was for the students to simply think about these issues and raise questions in their head.  And by the focus they had for those 50minutes, the tremendous attention they gave me, and the warmth of their applause at the end of class, I could not help but walk out feeling great.  I would have been happy to have had even one student walk out of class and think about these issues for even just 2 seconds, but by the way that lesson went I think I can safely say--without intended conceit or arrogance--that I accomplished this goal.

I was stunned by just how many good things my mentor had to say.  She did mention that I could do more with positive reinforcement and perhaps tone down my serious persona, but she said that semi-facetiously.  I intended the class to have a more serious tone, so I'm glad I communicated that.

Conclusions and Thoughts

Teaching was draining and incredibly tiring.  From brainstorming lesson plans to creating the lessons to preparing for the lesson and actually enacting the lessons, I gained a tremendous appreciation and renewed respect for teachers past, present and future, and especially for those who shaped me in ways undefinable and indescribable.  


More to come.

Log6.1: A Visit from St. Parents

Much has happened since my last update two weeks ago. The following is the first of a six-part series.  

This is Part 1: A Visit from St. Parents.

On Sunday July 25, my parents visited me in Goesan, Chungcheongbuk-do, middle-of-nowhere Republic of Korea.

Okay, so the story actually makes a bit more sense.

My mother has been in Korea caring for her mother (my grandmother) since late June while my father has been in and around Korea on business trips.  Hence, they left the United States a week before even I did, and for the past couple of months have been residing in Seoul, the nation's capital.  

Since I arrived in Korea, I had been in touch with them frequently and had told them I would come visit them--and the rest of my maternal relatives--the first day I could.  Unfortunately, the schedule had been so packed with things both useful and unwarranted that I simply could not afford the time required for a proper visit.

Let me clarify; Seoul is 3hours away by public transportation from my orientation site, and if you don't know rural inland Korea, then it might be fruitful of you to actually take public transportation rather than risk getting lost in the mountains.

As the days went on and my father's plan to return to the US became more uncertain, opportunities to see both of my parents seemed to diminish quickly.  My parents knew that, and I knew that; we all wanted to see each other.


So on Saturday July 24th, I get an e-mail from my father saying, "We'll be visiting Goesan to go check out some temples.  Let us know if you have some time!"


Goesan is 10minutes away by walking; or for you Claremont College students, a walk to the Village from the 5C's.  Of course I had time.


On the one hand I wondered if I should feel bad that ultimately they had to travel all the way down to see me.  On the other hand, I know that they don't want me to feel that way and that I would be doing them a disservice by moping about something so apparently trivial.

So that aside, what else could I be but the happiest and luckiest son in the world?!  Taken aback and speechless for a while, I went to see them for dinner.  


We only had about 2.5 hours together; we spoke a little at a local bakery, then went to dinner at my school (because the options in the village were so poor).  They left after dinner so they could be back in Seoul by Monday morning(reminder: the travel time is 3 hours by bus).  

"Was it good to see them?" Of course.  Seeing them was both calming and revitalizing, and reminded me again of the most integral parts of my life that I sometimes lose sight of amidst the flurry of things.  Talking to them grounded me again and helped me compose myself for the long haul.


But what else I would say is that seeing them in Goesan, an agrarian boonies of Korea, for a fleeting few hours only to have them vanish away in a taxi again, was surreal.  Anyone familiar with holograms, popularized by Star Trek?  In some ways, this reality that brought my parents to Goesan to see me for a few hours seemed more like a holographic exercise where my parents were holograms, life-like and convincing only to evaporate from my world in a matter of hours again.  That I saw them last in California where the weather was dry and the sun rolled around in the blue sky made this reality seem less real.  After an evening's rest, I was back on the phone with them, as if they had never left.  

But such is the beauty, and paradox, of life, is it not?


As for the title, we're not religious and I'm not advocating that my parents receive sainthood.  But I will say that their visit seemed to have some inexplicably holy qualities about it.