Log17: Honestly? This is hard.

Smile, though your heart is aching
Smile even though it's breaking
When there are clouds, in the sky you'll get by
If you smile through your fears and sorrows
Smile and maybe tomorrow
You'll see the sun come shining through for you

Light up your face with gladness
Hide every trace of sadness
Although a tear may be ever so near
That's the time you must keep on trying
Smile, what's the use of crying?
You'll find that life is still worthwhile
If you just smile.

That's the time you must keep on trying
Smile, what's the use of crying?
You'll find that life is still worthwhile
If you just smile.

'Smile,' by Nat King Cole

*It has certainly been a while since I last tried to show some competence, or dare I say even eloquence, with the English language, so I beg your pardon should write like a fool.*

Has anyone else been having a difficult time adjusting to life in Korea?  Perhaps one would surmise that in light of how visibly upset I was on departure day I am weaker and more sensitive than others.  Maybe I am, and maybe I react without strength in new and foreign circumstances.


Smile.  I feel that's something I haven't done in a while.

Certainly I've smiled at the little antics my students have displayed or the warmth and support my teachers have shown.  Of course I've smiled, maybe even laughed, at the jokes and the buffoonery of high school students.  Frankly, who couldn't?

But you know that simple smile, the unfettered laugh that makes you forget everything and allows you to just live; to escape from the prison of things and time and be wholly yourself, unadulterated by questions, concerns, or thoughts?  The kind of joy you had when the recess bell rang, the kind of joy you have with your brothers, sisters and dearest friends, the kind of joy where you are joy and you become the very emotion you feel; the moments when energy positivity and love inundates you that you become ignorant of wrong, sin, or evil; the moments where you become the paradigmatic embodiment and emblem of the the very essence of life which compels so many of us to strive to improve this world: happiness.

This of course may be asking for a bit much, especially so quickly after arrival.  Besides, if these experiences were ever as common as we would want them to be, they might not be so memorable.  They might not be so valuable.

In addition, it is because we have the valleys that we have the mountaintops.  The struggle is to embrace both, for the journey is exactly that: a journey.  To find value only while standing among the mountaintops robs oneself of the chance to not only embrace and learn from all the little things that constitute life, but ergo to live the full life.  It is that Ubermensch-like courage, that Socratic acknowledgment of ignorance and willingness to accept the fallacies and misgivings we happen upon in our lives.

Of course, it's never this easy.


Such is the venture of the human mind, and the human kind.


But let me try to bring us back down to Earth.

These have been some trying times.


Confronted with a dearth of immediate things that help sustain me, I have struggled to gain equal-footing on this rocky landscape.  My greatest challenge has been the very duty I have been assigned: teaching.  With as much teaching experience as a 5-year old would have working as a paramedic, I have been battling to simultaneously gain confidence in teaching and display this very "confidence" to my students.  What irony, then, that one must demonstrate the very thing he does not yet have!  When inexperience is rooted deeply within, the branches of insecurity and doubt plague the conscientious mind and destroy the sediment that feeds it.  These inner demons cripple the soul and person, the profession and the students, and all those involved. 



So the fight is to uproot this beast through trial and error, failure after failure, and a quixotic relentlessness.  The holy war is waged within, to purge the incompetence through an ironically less-than-conscientious, almost primal brutality and thoughtless obstinacy, an unending test of endurance and stamina through which you simply cannot give up.  


On Friday, that stereotypically rebellious student who comes from a broken home tested me so much that I dragged him to the disciplinarian's office.  Ten minutes later I received an apology from him as he searched for both words and air amidst streams of tears.

Yesterday in class I made all the students in class do the wall-sit and count to 100 for being so out of line and hence disrespecting not only my time, but that of others as well, especially the students who were trying.  I yelled simply, "Do you think this is fun for me?  HUH?!"  I did exactly that which an English teacher adjured me not to do not half-an-hour ago: teach with emotion. 


So where can I point the finger?  To me?  To the students?  To the school, or education system?

Of course the standard answer would be, "a little bit of everything."  My incompetence compel me to put the blame on myself, for had I prepared a better lesson and provided the students a better learning environment, such drastic measures might never have occurred.  I also am gaining awareness of the image I may be putting forth to many of the students: a gratuitously draconian teacher who is trying to cover for his inexperience and inabilities through unfair treatment of the students.


Or maybe they just think I'm a jerk.


The students aren't stupid, and now I wonder to what extent I should try to rectify this image, if at all.  For the head English teacher has reported back to me that from what he has heard, the students are overall scared of me and that I have been able to take control of the class better than some of the past conversational teachers they've had.



But I can tell I'm thinking too much now.


My brother--also a high school teacher--sent me the following:

This is my desktop background now, for it recalls a kind of banner of iron-clad strength a sports team might harbor (the picture is from Underarmor, after all), or with which one must carry oneself especially in these tough times.  It gives me courage, and it gives me stability; in the very same way my brother always has.

"Does he cry about how he screwed up and throw a pity party, or learn from it and get better?" -My brother


Perspective.


Of course life is good.  Of course that these should be my quandaries speaks volumes for just how comfortable a life I lead.  Of course things could always be worse.


And I don't write all this for pity.  I of course appreciate and am grateful for the encouragements that may come forth, but please know that this exercise is a means through which I try to draw out some meaning, comfort, and maybe even some strength.  

"If you laugh, you think, and you cry, that's a full day.  That's a heck of a day.  You do that seven days a week, you're going to have something special." -Jim Valvano 




I feel bad to want to write this since it was used as the anthem of the Civil Rights movement, but as Sam Cooke once sang, a change is gonna come.

More to come.


-Yours Truly

Log16: Haha

Orientation warned us of the frequency of abrupt and unexpected schedule changes at Korean schools, and the consequences these changes would have on our individual plans.  These consequences seemed exclusively negative.


I planned on teaching four classes today starting at 10:30.  


Make that two, and let's begin at 1:30.


SWEET.

*Fulbright folk, not to say I don't like my job, but come on, some unexpected free time is always nice.

Log15: Phone

I have a cell phone.  Finally.

Log14: A Bit of Confidence Developing

So many of us often find recourse to, and find comfort in, relativity.  So relative to my first day of teaching yesterday after which I felt that I would rather have stepped in dog feces several times than to have felt as disappointed and discouraged as I had, naturally today would have had to have been a better day.  

But if one were to put aside relativity to the extent reasonable imagination could allow, today was a rather successful day along many fronts.


Though my first class was at 1:20PM, I had to be present to introduce myself to all the teachers at their weekly meeting at 8:00AM.  After my 20-second introduction, I had many hours to myself.  I still don't have my own computer at the desk, but I brought my laptop and luckily found wireless access.  And I still don't have a cell phone.

But let's just jump right in.

A friend of mine told me that perhaps I am high off of power right now.  Perhaps I shouldn't become a politician.  Let me know what you think:

Grade 1, Class 3

I abused this class pretty badly.  Once class started, I locked both doors.  One student came in late, and I asked him to stand in front of the class and repeat a humiliating dance move 10 times, saying "I'm a Star!"


Then another student made fun of me (by imitating the way I said something), and I asked him to do five "I'm a Star"s and 10 push-ups.  Later he would write a 2-truths-and-a-lie statement about a classmate, calling him a disabled person, after which I made him do 15 push-ups.  I told the class I would not tolerate such things.

I then saw two students hit each other, and I asked them to do the wall-sit with their arms stretched forward.  Afterward, I spoke to them personally and told them not to do it again.

Yeah, I taught...sort of.  The rest of the lesson stayed the same.

Grade 1, Class 4

 The class captain was late -- of all people -- so I made him do the ten stars.  The class as a whole was being very rowdy (I guess it's the time of day as well; last class before classes are done) so my disciplinary tone came at the expense of the entire class, rather than one student (i.e. after they quiet down, I would look at them and say, "We're not all stupid, right?  We can think, correct?...etc.)

This was the first class where I got volunteers (2!) for the beat-box challenge during my introduction (since I like to do it).  They were really good, in fact, and they enjoyed the show put on by their classmates.  I could tell I began building some rapport with the class as a whole, while still willing to call them out for their stupidities.

In any case, as we proceeded with 2-truths-and-a-lie, the critical revelation came during one of the student examples.*  [*Mind you, this entire week I had been saving facts about who I am until the last five minutes (i.e. name, where I was born, whether I'm Korean or not).]  One student's lie was that he had a Lamborghini.  The student writing this on the board didn't know how to write it in English, so he wrote it in Korean.  When I began reviewing the statements, I repeated the statement saying the word Lamborghini in normal American accent.  Now, I could have made the argument that non-fluent foreigner could still have deduced the word from the pronunciation of the word as well as student reactions.  But I just smiled because the students became so wildly passionate and enthusiastic at the prospect of my being Korean; it would be a secret revealed unto them.  Unfortunately, I let a genuine smile out, and these kids read me like a book.  They figured out I was a Korean, at least by blood.

This was the best class I had so far.  Everyone was engaged, everyone was attentive, and I had most everybody's enthusiasm and energies.  It felt great.  

At the end when the class bell rang and they figured out my name via hang man, I asked them to call me Mr. Kim, then began to walk out with the class captain to talk to him.  I expected all the students to rush to put their things away and want to book it, but they were just--and I'm going to sound so conceited and arrogant and I'm so sorry but this is just what I subjectively saw--so arrested in their seats, nearly mesmerized; they didn't move!  They acted as if they wanted more, and wanted class to go on, for the show to continue.  When I began to leave, the entire class exploded with "Good-bye Mr. Kim!" and "Bye bye!" as if I were to never see them again, as if I were a celebrity.



I knew I had their attention at least, and today was a great confidence booster.  


But what do you all think, high off of power?


In Other News...


After classes, I ironed my shirts at home then talked to one of the ETAs, who I think probably just had her worst day yet while in Korea.  Hearing about it made me cringe and suffer, and all I could do was sit there and be Skyping her.  Poor thing.


Afterward, I played basketball with the English teacher who isn't even a co-teacher but has really taken me under his wing.  He is the youngest male teacher there and, as I soon learned, has been yearning for some company: an young, energetic type who can roll with him.  He has had a difficult time adjusting and his experiences have made him more of an outcast than a prominent teacher.  He is a temporary teacher so already has less invested, but he has been very active teaching and his role at school.  


One of the advantages, I will say, about being somewhat fluent in Korean is the opportunity to learn from and about these other teachers in ways a greater language barrier would not permit.  After basketball, I learned a LOT about him.  He really opened up, telling me about his girl situation (broke up with ex in May), his personality, his greatest weaknesses, his dilemma at the school, how he got to the school, what he wants to do in the future...I mean, I probably said four sentences in the 45-minute conversation.  Just how comfortable he felt telling me all this was impressive, and the amount of information that actually registered in my head proved encouraging.  He has also been providing essential guidance and cultural to-do/not-to-dos with teachers and others, and I just feel really fortunate right now.


Argh, so many things I want to write about, so little time!


I should go to sleep.  I have an early morning tomorrow.  I still don't have a cell phone.


So what do you guys think, power-high?  And if so, how do I come down from it?

Log13: First Lesson Ever and a Humbling Experience on a Revelatory Level

FIRST DAY

Wow teaching is a bit** of a job.

Let me first preface by saying that after venting to a friends and family for the past several hours, I feel much better than the following may suggest.  Regardless, I feel to share with you (and frankly myself too) my experiences would be worth the time and effort.

I am exhausted, drained, and mildly uplifted after a strenuous day.  In light of how much music has always meant to me, I feel as if someone walked over, took my flute and broke it in half.  Does that make sense?


Perspective.


What can I say?  The first class was as humbling as if I had been denied admission from every college I ever applied to.  I ATE IT.  It was bad.


Clearly, it might have been fruitful if I had prepared a bit more.  On the other hand, one may argue no amount of lesson-planning could have prepared me for my first classroom teaching experience.  Either way, the following is the given:

1. This is an all-boys high school.
2. Each class has about 40 students.
3. The class I teach is a conversational English class that--unlike other English classes that divide the students by ability levels--includes students of all abilities (near-fluent/fluent to asking for help with every statement I make) and all levels of motivation (engaged and enthusiastic learners to sleepers).
4. I look and sound like a Korean, like one of "them."
5. Unlike 95% of the other schools at which ETAs are placed, my school rarely utilizes the computer in class.  They have them, but 1. they are slow 2. they are locked 3. they require the teacher to bring his/her own mouse and keyboard separately.



In reality though, my most memorable and impressive classes never used technology.  But perhaps that's biasing my form of learning over others.  In an ideal world I would be within waving distance of the kind of impact that environment had on me.

The Lesson

Self-introduction
Rules
Two-truths-and-a-lie (write three statements about yourself, two of which are true and one of which is a lie.  Others will guess which of the statements is true). 

The Plan

Go in there, hard.  I will not have the advantage of captivating the students with a kind of "foreign" aesthetics or unfamiliar beauty (they were seriously confused at first).  I will have the opportunity to demonstrate to them that I will be their conversational English teacher.  I aim to subvert the students' expectations of a lenient classroom environment (presupposed for nearly all conversational English classes) by being extremely strict, and if necessary, draconian.  I will not take chances knowing the barbaric and primal tendencies a herd of pubescent males could have.

1) Class 2-3 (Grade 2, class 3)

I would learn later that this class is rather infamous for being a difficult one to manage.  That I kicked one of the students out 30 minutes into my first class, then, should come as no surprise.  That I walked out of this class flustered to say the least, should also then come as no surprise. 

I knew they would, and I was prepared; the vocal ones began shouting questions to me without raising their hands, interrupting my speech.  I would give them a look and tell them to raise their hands if they needed something or wanted to say something.


I continued with my introduction, when one particular clown in the back--who clearly enjoyed the presence in his class--continued to shout smart-ass answers to my general class questions.  After my repeated attempts at ignoring, placating, then addressing the issue to him in front of the class, I got fed up and told him to leave my class.  He would say "Sorry teacher, sorry" but I simply repeated "Get out of my class now."  I told him to sit along the wall and wait until I came to get him, which would be twenty minutes later at the end of class.  
The lesson itself went very poorly as well.  The class is so large, that there is little time to pay attention to every chatter, every comment that a student whispers to one another while I am on the other side of the room.  Group-work seems nearly impossible unless I command their attention with absolute authority, something that seemed not even visible on my horizons.  Needless to say, the team activity to get them to play Two-truths-and-a-lie failed because splitting them into any form of group work only led to them chatting it up in Korean or just goofing off.  I felt couldn't help individual students without totally losing the class.

Because the motivation levels also varied so much, no one seemed engaged.  They found the class boring, and simply zoned out.  Participation was minimal and forced, and self-generated enthusiasm would be a concept alien to those 50-minutes.

The class bell rang, and I asked to talk to the class captain, who ended up being the vice president of the student body; by no means did he exude the leadership skills one might presume in the election into such a role.  I then went outside and talked to the clown and told him that I think he's a good guy and we can have a good time, but that I need his help.  Fortunately, I took the bus ride after school with him and another clown from a different class (fortunately because I knew I was quickly building rapport with them).

Intermission


So after that class and through lunch, I felt extremely disappointed, so much so that I questioned my reasons for being here, my worth as a teacher, and what would actually be worth the times of both me and my students.  I felt I had chosen a poor lesson, executed it horrendously, was extremely inefficient with the time, and overall presented myself as and extremely disorganized and unprepared teacher who clearly gave a contrived and unconvincing image of a gratuitously stringent teacher.  Needless to say, I felt miserable.  I received consolation from two of the English language teachers.


2) Class 1-8 (Grade 1, Class 8)

I tried another tactic this time.  When the bell rang at 1:20PM (1:20PM~2:10PM) I locked the doors to the classroom.  I began the class regularly, then had two late-comers show up.  Shocked and bewildered, they asked that I open the door.  I asked them what time it was, and asked them not to be late again.  Once they entered I made them do ten repetitions of an embarrassing dance move, at which the rest of the students laughed.  I knew I had a slightly different beginning, since I began building some rapport just through the laughs.  Albeit the humiliated students probably were less than pleased at this new and unnecessarily dickhead of a teacher who posed as if he were "all-that," but I knew it would be easier to make good with them later.


As class went along, one student had his cell phone.  I confiscated it, and he b*tched and moaned but I ignored it.  I would give it back to him after class, only after I told him never to let me see it again because then I will take it for a week.


The students out-right told me the game was boring, and because I was less-than-willing to fight that battle, I acquiesced and changed plans.  I improvised and played hangman with my name.  Class management and classroom accountability still proved to be very poor, and very difficult.  I walked out feeling only slightly better.


3) Class 2-4 (Grade 2, Class 4)

My most successful of the day.  Since teachers told me 2nd graders are more spoiled (since they are friendlier with the teachers and have spent time on campus), they told me they will be more difficult to manage.  So I decided to go in there strong.

I didn't kick anyone out, but I overheard a couple of students whispering to each other, "Holy shit he's fu*king scary," and, "Wow he might cut my head off with a samurai sword."  I'm glad to be hearing that than its antithesis, whatever that may be.

 I drew out my self-introduction quite a bit, playing a longer flute phrase and also encouraging a beat-box challenge of sorts.  Students started pointing out students who were reputed clarinetists or beat-boxers or rappers.  They were enjoying themselves, I was enjoying it as well.

I shared with the picture of Arnold Schwarzenegger, governor of the great state of California.  I then told them that I will give 1000WON (~$1) to anyone who can spell his last name correctly.  I toyed with the two volunteers by pulling out my wallet and flashing them the money.  They enjoyed the shenanigan immensely.

I scrapped the group-work part of two-truths-and-a-lie and simply had volunteers come up.  Luckily I picked some volunteers whose presence was known in class, so it was never awkward up there.




I realize now, upon reflection (and thanks to this blog really), that what I must exploit in Korean classrooms that is not extant in classrooms in America is the unbending dominion group-mentality has over the students and the learning environment.  The influence the herd can have on the direction of the class and the learning and, ergo the energy and enthusiasm of the environment is unimaginably strong.  Thanks blog.


I finally asked the students to call me Mr. Kim, because with my name revealed to them as "Yoon-Chan," I knew that within Korean dynamics such informality would destroy the teacher-student respect and association crucial to a productive and rewarding learning environment.  It could be different if I had an American name, but for now I feel comfortable as is.  My job is to be a teacher to them, not their friend. 


I'm not trying to change the world, I'm not trying to save lives.  I'm trying to be the best that I could be given the circumstances I have been provided and the responsibility I have been handed to be a conversational English teacher here for a year.


But overall, y'all, what do you think?  Too harsh?

Log12: #1

My first lesson is in less than 12 hours.  I am nervous, but anxious as well.

In considering what teacher persona I wish to present, I have decided that I will be very strict the first couple of weeks at least.  I see the students once a week, and I want to make an impression; I want them to remember me and know that I may not be the fun/let's-play-with-the-foreigner teacher...not yet anyway.  I will ask for respect.

This will entail that I try to embody my older brother's most awe- and fear-inspiring aura of intimidation.  When he is mad or serious, I'd rather sit at the dentist's for four hours than be in the same room with him. 

I hope tomorrow goes well.

Log11: The Journey Begins

I am currently in Jeonju, a city most famous for its culture and delicious foods.  More specifically, I am in a PC room (a huge computer lab which you pay to mainly play computer games, but in my case exploit 1. the air-conditioning 2. the fast internet connection 3. some alone time).

So let me just begin where I feel is right.

I. Jeonju Friends

I just got back from spending time with Micah and Clint, two of the three other ETAs who are in my city.  We went downtown and met for some coffee, just to see each others' faces and reacquaint ourselves with the familiar.  We really only spent 2.5 hours with each other, but I can honestly say it was energizing and really rejuvenating, just to be in the same room with them.  Clint has an attic to himself, and Micah has her own place in a guest house.  Both of them met Alec, my good friend and fellow Pomona + Fulbright Korea alumnus.  Alec, if you're reading this, I'm sorry we didn't get to meet up.  It's amazing how much good friends and acquaintances can do for you, even for just a couple of hours. 

II. The Family

But how has my time here been?  Overall I feel very lucky.  Let me tell you about my family.

First, they are all very good people.  The 15 year-old high school freshman, the 12 year-old elementary 6th grader, and the older parents are all kind and reasonable human beings, something which pleasantly surprised me since I expected something stranger than this.

The father and mother do not look their ages.  They are in their 50's but the father exercises religiously, and both are very health-conscious (especially the father).  The brothers seem to have a very typical big brother-little brother dynamic, though they seem to get away with more than my brother and I ever did when we grew up.  That said, our parents had the honor of being reputed as very strict (I say that without resentment). 

In any case, the intrafamilial relationships and principles have been delightfully akin to those within my family.  Each person is accorded his/her individual responsibilities and privileges, and afforded the independence not unlike a typical American family.  The children know what they have to do, so the parents trust them to do the homework, go to hakwons (학원: private after-school academies), play/exercise with friends.  The parents in turn like to spend time on their own as well; the father would sit in front of his laptop to work in silence, while the mother naps/reads in the master bedroom.  Meal times are also very individual; you help yourself and eat when you need to because each person has his/her own schedule and errands/tasks to complete.  Such an environment has actually been so eerily familiar to my own home dynamics that I've been second-guessing a lot of situations for fear that I'm misreading or missing some subtlety or deeper truth.  But I think they are as "chill" and similar to my family as they present themselves to be.  This is the reason I feel comfortable sitting here among strangers and not in my house.  Besides, my family does not turn on the giant air-conditioning machine in the house because its fumes are supposedly unhealthy for you.

So how have I, the foreigner/newcomer been fitting into this picture?

The children I think have been slowly adapting to my presence.  I've noticed the past couple of days that they have started to loosen up a bit, smiling more and joking around with me more.  Apparently I can give off a very intimidating vibe at first, so perhaps they got wind of that a bit.  I've been playing cards and basketball with them at night, so I think they've been getting more comfortable.  I do sometimes wonder if I should be much more proactive in getting to know them and spending time with them, but sometimes they just have their doors closed or are spending time with parents in the master bedroom, so I wouldn't want to intrude.  This has been an issue I'm still trying to negotiate since 1. I don't want to be nosy but 2. I also don't want to be the aloof stranger in the house that doesn't become a family member and who ultimately gives the family a less-than-rewarding experience in undertaking this.  My aim, after all, is to treat and be treated as a family member.  I still feel like a guest, and I can sense that my family still feels similarly.  That said, it's only been a few days though.  Also, maybe I shouldn't feel like I should "owe" anyone anything.

III. Teaching

All this aside, tomorrow is my first day teaching.  My co-teacher (he who is responsible for my welfare, adjustment, and success at school throughout the year) just read the Fulbright contract last night, and admitted to me that he didn't realize there were so many things he needed to have ready for me (bank, cell phone, schedule, etc.).  I hope these things get resolved sooner than later.

The nice thing is that my host brother attends the school and I'll probably be teaching him, and he has already begun to provide some insider tips and views on the school: the student body, classroom dynamics and teachers. 

I will probably teach about 15 classes of ~40 students each per week, in addition to a couple of teachers' workshops and an English club for advanced students.  I still don't know what my lesson will look like tomorrow, but that will be tonight's project. 

I am planning to be uncomfortably strict with my students though.  I wasn't able to pull that off the first time I taught (at Camp Fulbright), and I quickly saw the consequences in the second class.  I hope I can really make good on my promise to be strict, because otherwise classroom management--especially with unmotivated students who apparently are common--my year will be a very long one.  Apparently I already can give a very intimidating vibe, so I'll play that up but also be willing and able to stick to my guns and be stern.  I can loosen up later, but the first couple of weeks I will have to be strict.  Wish me luck, because I often am more willing to observe and watch others interact than to take a group of people by the throat and control them.  I am nervous, excited, and anxious.

I also hope I get a good schedule; one that affords me some afternoon time and extends my unofficial weekend even by a few hours.

IV. Music

Other than that, I really hope I find some musical venue very soon to get back into playing music on a regular basis and with a community of musicians.  I e-mailed a former teacher of mine (who plays for the top orchestra in Korea) and am looking around at the Jeonju Symphony Orchestra for opportunities, but I hope I find something soon because that will be a great way to really begin living rather than just come home after I teach and...what, read a book?!  I mean, that is something I've been wanting to do but I came to Korea for more than simply to teach and read good American books.

So that's what is currently preoccuping my thoughts.  Here is a quick retrospective of the past couple of weeks.

V. Saying Goodbyes Sucks

I arrived in Jeonju with my co-teachers and met my host family on Thursday late afternoon at around 4:30/5:00PM.  What preceded that can be deduced from the section title.

Clearly I had underestimated the just how close I had become with my fellow ETAs over the past few weeks.  Clearly I had underestimated just how difficult parting with these once-in-a-lifetime individuals would really be that day.  Clearly I had overestimated my emotional fortitude.

I don't mean to dramatize this, because I did not break down and bawl or sob.  And I'm sorry if that was anticlimactic for you.  But I can tell you leaving them was much more emotionally draining than I had assumed it would be.

All Wednesday we have our "field day" of games and "fun" physical activities with our regional ETAs and other extendees.  We spend Wednesday evening trying to have some last-evening quality times with each other, but knowing that we'll have at least some time Thursday to say our goodbyes.

Thursday comes, everyone is dressed to impress, and we begin the goodbye process in the morning.  Late morning we meet our teachers and principals; some arrive with gifts to welcome the ETAs, others don't (mine didn't).  While we have lunch with them, and I learn that my teachers need to get back to Jeonju ASAP for an evening workshop at which they must be present.  I start getting nervous because I assumed I would have time to say goodbye to the unquantifiably wonderful human beings I've met here and wish to bring back to Jeonju with me. 

The afternoon comes, and I have to be one of the first to leave.  The teachers don't attend the workshop and ask that I get my bags and get ready to book it.  I buy some time since we have our own ETA meeting, but I feel helpless and weak, so much so that when Grace reads me like a book and comes over to talk I act so strangely that I piss her off.  I told her later that I acted so strangely because I was fighting tears. 

I felt rushed, stressed, and flustered.  I felt torn between my obligation to not keep the teachers waiting and making the quickest exit possible possible and paying my thanks and saying my goodbyes to these incredible human beings whom I'm not sure when I'll see again.  So when all these thoughts and feelings became embroiled into a boiling level, it was too late and I was visibly upset.  I could feel the heat in my face, and began to notice other ETAs noticing my discomfort.  I couldn't help but show some twinkling of tears to these people with whom I had clearly grown much more than I ever imagined.  I told this to Grace who I pissed off earlier, and she was gracious enough to understand (no pun intended).

As I hugged each person, I couldn't help but notice something profound, and deeply anchored in each handshake or hug.  I felt among all these hugs and goodbyes was an immense strength, a tremendous gravity and magnetism that refused to let me tear away from these characters.  I can still recall that gut feeling so viscerally.

I was moved.  I am moved.  As I tried to compose myself for the first ten minutes of the car ride with the teachers, I couldn't help but be grateful for the chance to have met this group of individuals.  I couldn't help but thank life and the opportunities I have had to get to even feel this level of simultaneous connection and fragility.  That said, I also couldn't help but remember that all I had been doing the past few months, it seems, has been saying goodbyes.

Was this all because I was "pampered" or not "independent" enough or "clingy" or "weak?"  Was this because I am too "sensitive," "emotional" or "incompetent?"  I don't think so, 1. because I know I wasn't the only one moved and 2. I think it points to something else.

Obviously I'm biased in framing my emotional responses this way because who wants to portray himself as a weak emotional unstable being, but I think that what I felt and how I behaved that day is, at least in part, a testament to what I consider important in my life and what I derive from it: people. 

What makes this world both so beautiful and so tragic is the people.  We learn to live together through dialogue, engagement, argument, and reconciliation.  There is wonder in our interactions, there is fantasy in our disagreements, there is sanctity in the joys we share.  Through the ironies and paradoxes of evil and holy juxtaposed, each living moment is a constant struggle to stay alive in the trenches of every day life.  That we can survive and brave the sufferings we do and live to see another day is a product of never only our individual strength, but always also the existence, support, and work of others around us.  We need each other.  Together we experience fear, sorrow, joy.  Together we survive, and together we move forward.

Such is my conviction, and with a deeply seated core that sustains me I would like to think that the things I felt that day were justified.  Of course emotional response can never -- not even through neuroscience much less psychology -- really be rationalized or explicated so one could say I'm undercutting my own argument, but if one were to take me seriously I think my internal convictions merit some credibility.

Okay, I still have to catch up on the weeks prior, so maybe I'll continue that tonight when I get some time.

More to come, thanks for reading.

Best,
YK