Go inside a stone.
That would be my way.
Let somebody else become a dove
Or gnash with a tiger's tooth.
I am happy to be a stone.
From the outside the stone is a riddle:
No one knows how to answer it.
Yet within, it must be cool and quiet
Even though a cow steps on it full weight;
Even though a child throws it in a river;
The stone sinks, slow, unperturbed
To the river bottom
Where the fishes come to knock on it
And listen.
I have seen sparks fly out
When two stones are rubbed,
So perhaps it is not dark inside after all;
Perhaps there is a moon shining
From somewhere, as though behind a hill--
Just enough light to make out
The strange writings, the star-charts
On the inner walls.
- Charles Simic
Saturday, August 16, 2008
Thursday, August 7, 2008
Jet Lag
I have had trouble sleeping the past couple of nights since coming back from California.
So I stay up to read A People's History of the United States by Howard Zinn. I am often angered as I finish each chapter, first on behalf of the Native Americans, then of the women, then of the blacks. Incredibly, textbooks leave out the perspectives of these people, considered to be under-class and unimportant. What's even more outrageous is the fact that the name of religion has been invoked on many accounts for the sake of keeping these people "in their place." This baffles and angers me most. I'm not sure that I can be objective in my teaching of this material -- maybe objectivity should not be the main goal. Perhaps, history in and of itself is subjective in nature, and the truth is a walk on a thin line.
In preparing these materials, I have been trying to come to terms with the role religion has played in history, verses the role "religion" has played in my personal life. Much of the material I have read seem to depict religion as a heartless monster with a brazen attitude intent upon devouring all who are weak and helpless. Yet this is not the Christianity I know. How much could I demonstrate in the classroom that Christians throughout history have also countered injustice with kindness and goodness. To what extent would I be able to show them the multi-faceted ways in which our beliefs dictate our choices and the ways we see others?
When I first started teaching, I had a difficult time understanding why so many of my students hate "white people." Their attitudes are just as racist as a white man would have against a black, or a latino against an Asian. Yet they seem to find no problem in stating point blank: I hate white people. They may have respect for individual whites, yet they hate the entire "race" as a whole.
In reading history from the oppressed perspective, I am beginning to understand my students' perspective a bit. Whites have historically been the oppressors in the Americas, even before Columbus set sail on the Ocean Blue. Before him were the conquistadors, who slaughtered and subjugated the Natives in Central & South America, and even up to the present day, despite race relations having improved, whites still hold positions of power, influence, and wealth in this country. Even people across the world strive to emulate the West and are quick to dethrone their own cultures.
Yet even so, this is no excuse to hate.
Recently, a news article appeared on CNN.
If churches are not places where racial reconciliation takes place, then what good is a church? Jesus calls us to love our enemies. This is a high calling and a difficult one. Why not take the easier route? Stay in our comfort zones and be blind to the injustices we see?
I am excited about this year, though I always feel this way right before school begins...then once the sh-- hits the fan, I often wish I had chosen a different profession. However, I think this year will be different. I feel more centered, more at ease with myself, and more willing to ask for help. I'm looking forward to collaborating with two other new teachers in the 9th grade; the past three years have often been lonely for me, as I am left to my own devices without a clue as to whether I am doing things right or not. Yet with two other colleagues with whom to share ideas, I feel all the more equipped and ready to take on challenges.
So I stay up to read A People's History of the United States by Howard Zinn. I am often angered as I finish each chapter, first on behalf of the Native Americans, then of the women, then of the blacks. Incredibly, textbooks leave out the perspectives of these people, considered to be under-class and unimportant. What's even more outrageous is the fact that the name of religion has been invoked on many accounts for the sake of keeping these people "in their place." This baffles and angers me most. I'm not sure that I can be objective in my teaching of this material -- maybe objectivity should not be the main goal. Perhaps, history in and of itself is subjective in nature, and the truth is a walk on a thin line.
In preparing these materials, I have been trying to come to terms with the role religion has played in history, verses the role "religion" has played in my personal life. Much of the material I have read seem to depict religion as a heartless monster with a brazen attitude intent upon devouring all who are weak and helpless. Yet this is not the Christianity I know. How much could I demonstrate in the classroom that Christians throughout history have also countered injustice with kindness and goodness. To what extent would I be able to show them the multi-faceted ways in which our beliefs dictate our choices and the ways we see others?
When I first started teaching, I had a difficult time understanding why so many of my students hate "white people." Their attitudes are just as racist as a white man would have against a black, or a latino against an Asian. Yet they seem to find no problem in stating point blank: I hate white people. They may have respect for individual whites, yet they hate the entire "race" as a whole.
In reading history from the oppressed perspective, I am beginning to understand my students' perspective a bit. Whites have historically been the oppressors in the Americas, even before Columbus set sail on the Ocean Blue. Before him were the conquistadors, who slaughtered and subjugated the Natives in Central & South America, and even up to the present day, despite race relations having improved, whites still hold positions of power, influence, and wealth in this country. Even people across the world strive to emulate the West and are quick to dethrone their own cultures.
Yet even so, this is no excuse to hate.
Recently, a news article appeared on CNN.
If churches are not places where racial reconciliation takes place, then what good is a church? Jesus calls us to love our enemies. This is a high calling and a difficult one. Why not take the easier route? Stay in our comfort zones and be blind to the injustices we see?
I am excited about this year, though I always feel this way right before school begins...then once the sh-- hits the fan, I often wish I had chosen a different profession. However, I think this year will be different. I feel more centered, more at ease with myself, and more willing to ask for help. I'm looking forward to collaborating with two other new teachers in the 9th grade; the past three years have often been lonely for me, as I am left to my own devices without a clue as to whether I am doing things right or not. Yet with two other colleagues with whom to share ideas, I feel all the more equipped and ready to take on challenges.
Monday, July 28, 2008
For lack of words...no title
My apologies once again for the absence. I guess I have some legitimate excuse for not writing as of late. Where am I? Currently, in Santa Clara, California! J and I have been on the West Coast for the past week spending time with parents, cousins, nieces and nephews, and inevitably -- eating our way through the West coast.
Speaking of food, this trip thus far has yielded much food for thought on issues of parenting, mainly because we get questions like this almost everyday now: "So...when do you guys want to start having a family?" Each time, J and I look at each other and shrug our shoulders. Ideally, at least a year, but preferably two or three? We say with our fingers crossed.
After babysitting for our pastor's kids and hanging out here with my niece and nephew, I have a new-found appreciation for parents. I have always known parenting to be difficult, yet this requires a whole new level of self-sacrifice that I am not yet ready to give -- or maybe more poignantly, I am not yet willing to give!
That being said, however, if I were to embark on the journey of parenting with anyone, I'd want J to be with me. Our different strengths (and weaknesses) will hopefully hone and sharpen us to instill godly values in our children. I asked him today, "What are some principles you would like to have or things you would like to do as a parent?"
"To instill in them the value of simplicity," he replied. "One of the strongest forces in the United States is materialism. One wonders why we hardly see in America the spiritual forces that seem to be so active and blatant in other countries: here, we are blinded by materialism."
Having lived in a land of opulence, we have come to expect material goods to satisfy our needs and wants. I never cease to be amazed when I walk into grocery stores, even small mom and pop shops, where aisle after aisle of goods are piled high from floor to ceiling waiting for human consumption. Lately, I have become obsessed with searching for "Made in China" labels, just to confirm my suspicion that China is really taking over the world. Americans may dislike the Chinese for taking their manufacturing jobs, but Americans cannot help but live on the very products that low-wage earning Chinese workers are producing. Materialism feeds this perceived need, and at the end of the chain are the poor and defenseless who endure harsh working and living conditions, just to satisfy the wants of people half-way across the world. Ironically, materialism is also eating its way through China, where the rich are idolizing and buying "American" goods, while the working class can't even afford to buy the very products they make. For a fascinating view of Chinese-American developments, see Ted Koppel's recent series on the Discovery Channel: People's Republic of Capitalism.
I have once heard someone say that you should not share your dreams with too many people. I never really understood why that should be so. Perhaps, by sharing your dreams too openly, you put your dreams at risk of being prodded, poked, or even rejected before they even have the chance to fly. Yet at the same time, by not sharing your dreams, you run the risk of not even flying at all.
Once upon a time, an idealistic me wanted to open a school in China. I don't know how this seed was planted in my head (perhaps my mother had a lot to do with it). Maybe the source of this desire runs even deeper -- back to that time as a sophomore in high school when I was the only one who stood up in response to the call to do missions at a winter conference. China was on my heart, though I had never been there, nor even knew much about her people or history. Over the years, as I have learned more about God, about China, and about my own strengths and passions, my desire to go to China has waxed and waned. At times, I longed to be there like one would long for a homeland she has never seen; at other times, I tired of dreaming and settled for this American life.
Each time someone asks me when I want to start a family, I am all the more confused. I would love for my parents to be readily accessible and close when I have kids, especially when they are young. Having grown up in the States, far apart from my extended family in Taiwan, I longed for grandparents, aunts/uncles, and cousins to be near me. Thus, I would not want to deprive my parents the joy of seeing their grandchildren grow up. However, doing so would require us to move to California, which means that China would be on hold...
Yet what of China? What of my dreams? What of J's dreams and visions?
The impatient part of me just wants to up and go. Yet perhaps we are here in a holding pattern for yet a while longer. This incubation period is meant to purify, refine, and redefine my notions of passion, vision, success and failure.
Geez...all this from a simple question on parenting...!
Speaking of food, this trip thus far has yielded much food for thought on issues of parenting, mainly because we get questions like this almost everyday now: "So...when do you guys want to start having a family?" Each time, J and I look at each other and shrug our shoulders. Ideally, at least a year, but preferably two or three? We say with our fingers crossed.
After babysitting for our pastor's kids and hanging out here with my niece and nephew, I have a new-found appreciation for parents. I have always known parenting to be difficult, yet this requires a whole new level of self-sacrifice that I am not yet ready to give -- or maybe more poignantly, I am not yet willing to give!
That being said, however, if I were to embark on the journey of parenting with anyone, I'd want J to be with me. Our different strengths (and weaknesses) will hopefully hone and sharpen us to instill godly values in our children. I asked him today, "What are some principles you would like to have or things you would like to do as a parent?"
"To instill in them the value of simplicity," he replied. "One of the strongest forces in the United States is materialism. One wonders why we hardly see in America the spiritual forces that seem to be so active and blatant in other countries: here, we are blinded by materialism."
Having lived in a land of opulence, we have come to expect material goods to satisfy our needs and wants. I never cease to be amazed when I walk into grocery stores, even small mom and pop shops, where aisle after aisle of goods are piled high from floor to ceiling waiting for human consumption. Lately, I have become obsessed with searching for "Made in China" labels, just to confirm my suspicion that China is really taking over the world. Americans may dislike the Chinese for taking their manufacturing jobs, but Americans cannot help but live on the very products that low-wage earning Chinese workers are producing. Materialism feeds this perceived need, and at the end of the chain are the poor and defenseless who endure harsh working and living conditions, just to satisfy the wants of people half-way across the world. Ironically, materialism is also eating its way through China, where the rich are idolizing and buying "American" goods, while the working class can't even afford to buy the very products they make. For a fascinating view of Chinese-American developments, see Ted Koppel's recent series on the Discovery Channel: People's Republic of Capitalism.
I have once heard someone say that you should not share your dreams with too many people. I never really understood why that should be so. Perhaps, by sharing your dreams too openly, you put your dreams at risk of being prodded, poked, or even rejected before they even have the chance to fly. Yet at the same time, by not sharing your dreams, you run the risk of not even flying at all.
Once upon a time, an idealistic me wanted to open a school in China. I don't know how this seed was planted in my head (perhaps my mother had a lot to do with it). Maybe the source of this desire runs even deeper -- back to that time as a sophomore in high school when I was the only one who stood up in response to the call to do missions at a winter conference. China was on my heart, though I had never been there, nor even knew much about her people or history. Over the years, as I have learned more about God, about China, and about my own strengths and passions, my desire to go to China has waxed and waned. At times, I longed to be there like one would long for a homeland she has never seen; at other times, I tired of dreaming and settled for this American life.
Each time someone asks me when I want to start a family, I am all the more confused. I would love for my parents to be readily accessible and close when I have kids, especially when they are young. Having grown up in the States, far apart from my extended family in Taiwan, I longed for grandparents, aunts/uncles, and cousins to be near me. Thus, I would not want to deprive my parents the joy of seeing their grandchildren grow up. However, doing so would require us to move to California, which means that China would be on hold...
Yet what of China? What of my dreams? What of J's dreams and visions?
The impatient part of me just wants to up and go. Yet perhaps we are here in a holding pattern for yet a while longer. This incubation period is meant to purify, refine, and redefine my notions of passion, vision, success and failure.
Geez...all this from a simple question on parenting...!
Monday, July 14, 2008
Friendships
Certain people stir up instant feelings of warmth and a desire for closeness. This can happen with anyone -- big or small, young or old, male or female. I felt this the other night at the cook-out, when I sat next to the eighty-six year old mother from Pakistan. She was a wealth of stories. Even though I had a hard time understanding her due to her thick accent, I simply enjoyed being in her presence.
However, true friendships are ones that go beyond those initial moments of connection. I have experienced intense friendships that have sprung up overnight yet faded with the passing of time and the disadvantages of distance. On the other hand, I also have friends with whom distance is a non-matter; no passage of time or expanse of distance would hinder us from laughing or crying with one another even after playing phone tag for six months.
Friendships that have been tested by fire -- and survive -- are indelibly carved into our memories. I have had my share of friendships that have failed the test, as well as those that have survived. Yet both sets of friendships remain a constant source of reminder that forgiveness and grace can lead to healing.
Then there are certain friendships that change in nature over time, and I become increasingly at lost over how to best love and care for that person. Yet out of loyalty to our past relationship and a hope for a better future one, I hold on. Loving this kind of friend is perhaps the most difficult, for it involves acknowledging that as others change, I must also change. The old way of knowing becomes obsolete, and I am forced to explore new ways of knowing and loving.
I wonder if that is why marriage is so difficult for many people. As couples grow older, enter different stages of life, and face more difficult challenges, people inevitably change. Some grow more cynical, easily stressed, and lose sight of what was once attractive or lovely about the spouse. Yet it could also go the opposite direction as well! I hope that as I grow older, despite having to face many more challenges, I will change in ways that allow Jonathan the freedom to grow.
However, true friendships are ones that go beyond those initial moments of connection. I have experienced intense friendships that have sprung up overnight yet faded with the passing of time and the disadvantages of distance. On the other hand, I also have friends with whom distance is a non-matter; no passage of time or expanse of distance would hinder us from laughing or crying with one another even after playing phone tag for six months.
Friendships that have been tested by fire -- and survive -- are indelibly carved into our memories. I have had my share of friendships that have failed the test, as well as those that have survived. Yet both sets of friendships remain a constant source of reminder that forgiveness and grace can lead to healing.
Then there are certain friendships that change in nature over time, and I become increasingly at lost over how to best love and care for that person. Yet out of loyalty to our past relationship and a hope for a better future one, I hold on. Loving this kind of friend is perhaps the most difficult, for it involves acknowledging that as others change, I must also change. The old way of knowing becomes obsolete, and I am forced to explore new ways of knowing and loving.
I wonder if that is why marriage is so difficult for many people. As couples grow older, enter different stages of life, and face more difficult challenges, people inevitably change. Some grow more cynical, easily stressed, and lose sight of what was once attractive or lovely about the spouse. Yet it could also go the opposite direction as well! I hope that as I grow older, despite having to face many more challenges, I will change in ways that allow Jonathan the freedom to grow.
Sunday, July 13, 2008
Moon Watching
Last night, Jonathan and I went to a fellow teacher friend J's house for a cook-out. My friend is originally from Pakistan, and despite having been in the States for twenty plus years, he sounds like a lyrical flute with a hint of Urdu when he speaks.
We set up shop in the backyard, with Indian rice, savory BBQ chicken, lentils, pupusa, home-made chutney, home-made hot sauce, and white wine to top off the spread. Next to me was a woman from Columbia who is married to L, a math teacher at my school. He is from El Salvador. Across from me sat a wizardly-looking man from India. He has a face that has seen a thousand suns. Further down the table, my friend's eighty-six years old mother reclined on the lawn chair and relished in the food she created. She is from Pakistan as well. Of the eleven people at the table, we represented at least seven different countries!
As the night snuck up on us, we noticed the waxing gibbous moon peeking at us through the trees. On our walks, Jonathan and I often make casual observations about the moon. Just a few days ago, it's crescent shape hung low in the sky; now it has taken on a fuller, more voluptuous form. At that moment while watching the moon, I felt infinitely small yet at the same time singularly significant. The moon tenderly spoke to me with its caressing beams of light billions of lightyears away.
I wished to absorb its radiance into the caverns of my soul.
We set up shop in the backyard, with Indian rice, savory BBQ chicken, lentils, pupusa, home-made chutney, home-made hot sauce, and white wine to top off the spread. Next to me was a woman from Columbia who is married to L, a math teacher at my school. He is from El Salvador. Across from me sat a wizardly-looking man from India. He has a face that has seen a thousand suns. Further down the table, my friend's eighty-six years old mother reclined on the lawn chair and relished in the food she created. She is from Pakistan as well. Of the eleven people at the table, we represented at least seven different countries!
As the night snuck up on us, we noticed the waxing gibbous moon peeking at us through the trees. On our walks, Jonathan and I often make casual observations about the moon. Just a few days ago, it's crescent shape hung low in the sky; now it has taken on a fuller, more voluptuous form. At that moment while watching the moon, I felt infinitely small yet at the same time singularly significant. The moon tenderly spoke to me with its caressing beams of light billions of lightyears away.
I wished to absorb its radiance into the caverns of my soul.
Thursday, July 10, 2008
Okay. So I lied.
I said in my previous post that I would blog for 15 minutes every day. Well, as you can see, I am not one for daily disciplines! It's hard to get back into the habit of blogging once I have fallen out of the habit. Today, Jonathan said that my brother-in-law commented on the fact that I have not been blogging for 15 minutes every day, which lulled me out of my laziness. I had no idea people were actually still reading (and perhaps anticipating) my writing! The perfectionist in me tricks me into thinking that every entry has to be a good entry; hence, if I don't have anything inspirational to write, then don't write anything at all.
Well, screw perfectionism. :) This one is for you, bro-in-law!
This summer, I have been reading a lot -- some pleasure reading, some more serious reading in preparation for the upcoming school year. I actually derive a lot of pleasure from reading about "serious" issues. For example, two of my recent finds have been on issues of oppression, war, ethnic tensions.
1. Brother, I'm Dying by Edwidge Danticat: a memoir about the life of two brothers from Haiti, who survive political upheaval, war, and eventual "exile" in the States.
2. What is the What by Dave Eggers: a semi-memoir about the life of Valentino Achek Deng, a surviving Lost Boy of Sudan who is now residing in the United States.
Lastly, my "serious" reading is Lies My Teacher Told Me: Everything Your American History Textbook Got Wrong. I usually do not have patience for dense reading such as this, but this book is fascinating and makes me re-think the way our understanding of history is construed and colored by the perspective from which we are taught.
More on this later... my fifteen minutes is up! :)
Well, screw perfectionism. :) This one is for you, bro-in-law!
This summer, I have been reading a lot -- some pleasure reading, some more serious reading in preparation for the upcoming school year. I actually derive a lot of pleasure from reading about "serious" issues. For example, two of my recent finds have been on issues of oppression, war, ethnic tensions.
1. Brother, I'm Dying by Edwidge Danticat: a memoir about the life of two brothers from Haiti, who survive political upheaval, war, and eventual "exile" in the States.
2. What is the What by Dave Eggers: a semi-memoir about the life of Valentino Achek Deng, a surviving Lost Boy of Sudan who is now residing in the United States.
Lastly, my "serious" reading is Lies My Teacher Told Me: Everything Your American History Textbook Got Wrong. I usually do not have patience for dense reading such as this, but this book is fascinating and makes me re-think the way our understanding of history is construed and colored by the perspective from which we are taught.
More on this later... my fifteen minutes is up! :)
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
The Spirit of the Disciplines by Dallas Willard
This summer, I aim to blog for at least 15 minutes per day on a particular reading or news event, as a way to push the limits of my imagination and understanding of God, the world, and my self.
"Multitudes are now turning to Christ in all parts of the world. How unbearably tragic it would be, though, if the millions of Asia, South America, and Africa were led to believe that the best we can hope for from The Way of Christ is the level of Christianity visible in Europe and America today...this is an age for spiritual heroes--a time for men and women to be heroic in faith and in spiritual character and power. The greatest danger for the Christian church today is that of pitching its message too low" (Willard, xii).
"A successful performance at a moment of crisis rests largely and essentially upon the depths of a self wisely and rigorously prepared in the totality of its being -- mind and body...The secret of the easy yoke is simple, actually. It is the intelligent, informed, unyielding resolve to live as Jesus lived in all aspects of his life, not just in the moment of specific choice or action"(Willard, 4, 10).
I picked this book off J's bookshelf. Immediately, I knew that the contents would meet me where I am. So where am I exactly? In the desert. I have been wandering around the desert for some time now, with glimpses of oases on the horizon, yet they never seem to quench my thirst. I long to walk in lush gardens, replete with morning dew and goodness.
Yet as Willard points out, the secret to having a heroic faith and spiritual character is rather simple. To fight the good fight and to build strength of character, one must resolve to live in a manner that allows Christ to permeate all aspects of life. Spiritual heroes are not born out of Sunday to Sunday sermons, but rather, they are born out of the secret, daily meetings with the Author of the Universe.
"Multitudes are now turning to Christ in all parts of the world. How unbearably tragic it would be, though, if the millions of Asia, South America, and Africa were led to believe that the best we can hope for from The Way of Christ is the level of Christianity visible in Europe and America today...this is an age for spiritual heroes--a time for men and women to be heroic in faith and in spiritual character and power. The greatest danger for the Christian church today is that of pitching its message too low" (Willard, xii).
"A successful performance at a moment of crisis rests largely and essentially upon the depths of a self wisely and rigorously prepared in the totality of its being -- mind and body...The secret of the easy yoke is simple, actually. It is the intelligent, informed, unyielding resolve to live as Jesus lived in all aspects of his life, not just in the moment of specific choice or action"(Willard, 4, 10).
I picked this book off J's bookshelf. Immediately, I knew that the contents would meet me where I am. So where am I exactly? In the desert. I have been wandering around the desert for some time now, with glimpses of oases on the horizon, yet they never seem to quench my thirst. I long to walk in lush gardens, replete with morning dew and goodness.
Yet as Willard points out, the secret to having a heroic faith and spiritual character is rather simple. To fight the good fight and to build strength of character, one must resolve to live in a manner that allows Christ to permeate all aspects of life. Spiritual heroes are not born out of Sunday to Sunday sermons, but rather, they are born out of the secret, daily meetings with the Author of the Universe.
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