Class Clown

If there is something in my life that I must have on a daily basis, it would have to be humor. I could live without the coffee, a shower, or socks but I know that a day is not complete if I haven't laughed or found something to be funny. Trust me, chocolate is pretty high up there too, but laughing causes the same effects. There is something special about laughing with a group of people who are different from you, laughing with a group of people when there is a huge communication barrier.

Every class has a "class clown". A show-off, a trouble-maker, a kid who likes to stir the pot. For class Summer Dream, Matthew played that role rather well. I can't tell you what his family is like, or about his childhood, but I can tell you about his lifelong ambition: to become a famous singer. Matthew was by far one of my most enthusiastic students, the most into the songs that we sang, and the most persistent when it came to carrying the Summer Dream banner. He's this kid that you just have to love.

There is a flower petal stuck to my head. Matthew put it there.

My earliest memory of Matthew would be on day four of teaching. I was starting to get into a routine in the classroom and beginning to feel confident in what I was doing. I developed this habit of "Teach Teacher" at the end of class that the kids absolutely adored. It allowed them the opportunity for them to teach me Chinese, to give back for the hours of English I was teaching them. I had learned all sorts of phrases (little did I realize the ridiculous accent that the people of LongDe spoke with---my little Chinese is pretty much worthless in all other places in China). I also developed a habit of allowing students to reflect on the day (in English) and allowed them an opportunity to pretty much say whatever they wanted (as long as it was in English). Day four came around and Matthew volunteered to speak. He stood at his desk, head down, reading a piece of paper on his desk. In front of the whole class, he proclaimed his love for Miss Kayla and for summer camp, spoke about how much he is learning and how he never wants it to end. To top it all off, Matthew finished his reflection with a tear. Ever not know what to do in a situation? I honestly can't remember how I reacted or what I said, but I do know that it was the talk of the teachers office that day after school.

Mateo leadin' the way with his cool moves and love for dancing.

From that point on Matthew (or as I had a habit of calling him Mateo) became quite the little bugger, in a good way. His energy was unreal and he was always trying to show off when we played sports in the afternoon. He was a leader in his own way, the cool kid. If Mateo gave it a try, everyone else would too. One of my favorite times in the classroom was when I got to play music. They had a cable that would allow me to connect and play my ipod through an ancient TV in the classroom. Every day, the kids received a 15 minute break to go play with Miss (Kristina) Bennett, and I would take that time to regroup, clean up the class, play a few tunes and dance around the classroom. Mind you, we were in China at the end of the World Cup 2010 so all the kids wanted to talk about was sports. I (in complete honesty) had lost all interest in the World Cup since all of the teams I wanted to win were eliminated in the first round. Nonetheless, I had been jammin away in my own classroom when Mathew came bursting through the door, sweaty and out of breath. He immediately flashed this ginormous smile and started dancin' on stools. As the rest of the class followed I realized that they too had positive reactions to the music that was being played. From that point on, I tried to incorporate "Wavin' Flag" into as many activities as I could.

Mateo was your average, aggressive boy. We would play games of "flyswatter" and somehow Mateo's competition would always end up on the ground. He was always the sweatiest kid at the end of the day, and always the one to be the center of attention. There was one class day when Mateo didn't show up. Though I thought it was odd, I knew that there was always a kid or two missing from class. Fifteen minutes into my lesson, Miss (Danielle) Liu bursts into my door and asks about the whereabouts of some of my boys because a handful of hers were missing. Ironically, seconds later Mateo and one other student came gliding into the classroom door, trying their best to sneak in. Covered in sweat, one carrying a basketball in his hand, there was no doubt why they had been late to class. Miss Liu ran to her class to grab her boys that had also joined in on the fun. "Miss Kayla, these boys are very late. What must we make them do so that they will never be late again? I think we should make them all perform 'happy birthday' for the classes." And that they did. Sheepishly and stumbling over the words (we had learned it the day before) the basketball boys performed Happy Birthday for class Summer Dream and class All-Star Monkeys (Miss Liu's class).

Summer Dream proud of their Christmas Tree. Of course Mateo is holding it.

In the curriculum that we were teaching a "secret word" game would sometimes be an option for class.This quickly became one of my favorite activities to teach because I could be as crazy as I wanted and the students would have to reciprocate. The gist is that every student would draw a piece of paper with a 'secret word' on it (there are maybe like, 10 words). They would then have to read the given passage and highlight/underline every time their word is used. I then, as the teacher would read the passage aloud and every time I read one of their secret words they would have to make a sound. Now, I'm not talking like a pipsqueak noise. I'm talking like a full belly gut grunt. Think Tim Allen in Home Improvement, and then double that. Anyways, the kids would have to identify all the words and then make a sentence out of all the secret words. I know, not as cool as the full belly gut grunt. The best part about it was that I, as the teacher, could stop and continue to repeat their word if their grunt wasn't up to par. On either the last or second to last day, we played this secret word game in my class. I don't think I have ever had so much fun in my life. The two paragraph reading passage took us a good half hour to get through because I kept pushing my students for better full belly gut grunts. I have never seen my kids laugh so much either. Right from the beginning their grunts were not what I expected, so i didn't move on until I was pleased. Oh the poor shy quiet ones, I made them come out of their shell that day. I might have been out of control, getting in a few of their faces like a drill sargent (only to the ones who I knew could take it. I'd end up getting two inches from their face and we'd both start cracking up).  Anyways, there was many a time that the grunt wasn't satisfying, or that a person would miss their word (I obtain the answer key so I know these things. Ahhh, the power of teachers). There came a point nearing the end that the kids were really into it, my side was hurting from laughing so hard, and we were just having fun as a class. Matthew and Kristy (who I'll talk about next time) were paired together with the secret word "a". I, knowing that it was coming up, made eye contact with the two of them while reading the given passage. I watched as Matthew, in his oober excitement to please me with his full belly grunt, leaped up before it was time to speak. Only, half of him leaped up. His torso and upper body were so ready, but his legs must not have gotten the mental 'go' because they stayed put. This resulted in an unbalance of weight for his poor tiny stool, which quickly collapsed behind him, Mateos body soon following. Now mind you, I was the only one seeing this because Mateo was in the very back of the classroom. The following crash scared the tar-nation out of the rest of the class.

And this, my friends, poses a moral debate. Someone is potentially injured. Do you laugh? I can tell you this, I certainly did, after I realized that Matthew was laughing too. 

There was one point where we held a "LongDe talent show" for all the students. We as the teachers put together a skit and performed. I guarantee they only understood half of what we were saying, but nonetheless I have never laughed so hard in assembling a skit. Great teamwork, LongDe teachers. The amount of students we got to participate in the LongDe talent show were slim to none. However, Mateo, destined to become a famous singer, got over his stage freight to perform for the school some Chinese pop song. Yea, it was pretty adorable.

LongDe was a small city. LongDe was a street. All the peoples within a 20 mile radius knew where we were living for our time there. Our final day, after our sob fest at the closing ceremony, a fair number of our students showed up at our place to say goodbye one last time and to help us pack our things (they were so sweet). There were two students from my class, one of whom was Mateo. Good 'ole Mateo who broke all cultural barriers to give me a goodbye hug and cry in my arms. I mean, I returned the favor too. The bus driver must have thought we were nuts because the first hour or so of that bus ride, all one could hear was wails and sobs and sniffles. We waved out the window what seemed like time in slow motion. Hearts torn in two for a passion for our students and a desire for a cheeseburger. I'd take the students any day. Mateo provided for me one final memory of LongDe. As the crowd of students and administrators clustered beside the bus, they too waved and shed tears as we began to pull away. In a movie-moment, one broke free and one followed us, chasing after the bus keeping up until we reached the city limits. He ran and waved and smiled and wiped away tears, all while managing to dodge traffic in efforts to keep up with us. Watching this made the tears burn even hotter. That boy was Mateo.

-康妮

The Artist

 There is some sort of art within each of us. Being a music major, I feel like it is my destiny to say this, however there is a deep part of me that truely believes that everyone has the capacity to truely be an artist. The wonderful thing about art is that it can be expressed in an infinite amount of ways. Art is a true testament to the individuality within each of us. Yet it can also be a tool to see universal humanity. To truely understand it, one must not have the skills to judge, but the skills to see.

Jenna is a girl with a vision. She tries at English very hard and plans on going to school to be a doctor. But Jenna also has a love of music, and a love of art. She was designated our class artist the very first day of camp through a series of activities and I learned very early on as a teacher that she would be a help to me in the classroom.

Allow me to fill you in on what was to happen the first day of class. English Language Institute (ELIC) set up a curriculum that would allow us the first day of class to determine the English capability of the students. We had a series of games and testing that we would use and the four of us teachers would work together to evaluate where the students were to be placed.  After the division, we had a few introductory games and activities planned for only a half hour of time before lunch. Please do not be fooled, as this is what certainly did not happen our first day of class. LongDe Middle School #1 held an opening assembly for the arrival of the foreign teachers (...us) at which we were introduced to the student body as a whole. We got to sit in these huge leather chairs at a fine table before the students, making us feel like ambassadors for the UN. There was a constant hum of Chinese whispering among the student body, and a vast number of points and giggles as the students saw us for the first time. At the very end of the ten minute assembly, we were told by the school English teacher, Mr. Liu, that the students will be going to their classes. We explained to him that we had our own process for dividing up the classes. "Oh no, no, the students have classes of their own. They are already there."

"Mr. Liu, we have a process to divide students by their level of English"

"Oh. Well. The students have already been divided for you"

Testing process out the window, we now had 10 minutes to plan for a three hour lesson period, teaching students we didn't even recognize, none of us ever before running our own classroom. We didn't even have their textbooks for them. This was the first of may times that God taught us not to abide by our own plans.

As we walked down the hallways we could see the students sitting properly in their seats (mind you this was the only time...) and as we progressed Kristina, our team leader handed us random rosters to go with the classroom we were passing. Miss Jane, Class One. Miss Liu, Class Two. Miss Kayla, Class Three. Miss Stephanie, Class Four. As I and my fellow teammates entered our classroom,the kids broke out into a thunderous applause. 

Only the Lord knows how we survived that first day. I barely remember giving each of my students a speech/writing sample. In fact, the only part about that day that is vividly clear is when I had them gather in a circle as we thought of a class mascot. It is so important for the Chinese to have a symbol to unite behind, to have something that brings them together. After minutes of looking at each other and audible whispers in Chinese, I thought it was a hopeless attempt. That is, until one girl, Zhang Jingjing (Jenna, as she later picked her English name to be), inquired about the name "Summer Dream." I was immediately stunned at the suggestion, my immediate response was to ask "why?"...so I did. In very broken English she explained that this camp over the summer was like a dream come true for them all, and it made them very happy. Really and truely, I kid you not, it was a movie moment, because as I looked around the classroom, a wave of smiles, head-nods and approvals slowly made it's way around every single one of their faces. And that, my friends is how Summer Dream came to be.

Jenna, as I previously mentioned, was my class artist. The second day of classes we had a combined lesson about the American holiday of Thanksgiving. While planning this lesson, we as the teachers, decided it would be fun to tell the story of Thanksgiving with actions and sound effects. "Pilgrims", "Native Americans", "Thanksgiving", and "Turkey" were the special words of the story that had sounds effects to accompany them. Guess who's class got the pleasure of being the gobbling turkeys?  Yes, that would be the Crazy Miss Kayla class (trust me, I was so excited about gobbling up a storm. I have personally never gobbled so hard in my life). Of course, we had to have a turkey to represent us, so Jenna set to work. We also had a class banner that came with us everywhere. I thought it would be really representative of us if each of my students traced their hand, that way we could all be a part of the banner. I wish I could show you how proud the students were of their banner and what great respect they had for it, it was so endearing to watch every day.

Jenna was also my tomboy. Looking out at the courtyard she would be the only girl amongst the aggressive male 'futbol' game occurring. She was also my little keener. Now, in all complete honesty I had never heard of the term 'keener' before until my China experience. Simply, a keener is a student who is continually trying to impress the teacher and is the over involved student. Anything that I needed, Jenna was always there to supply it for me or to help me out.

The Summer Dream banner. We all had a "hand" in putting it together.

I was drawn to Jenna because of her unique personality. She definitely stood out in a crowd not only because she was one of the tallest girls with the purple glasses (woah--so similar to me), but also because of who she was, how she carried herself, and this confident smile and laughter that just radiated out of her. I sometimes like to think that God, when creating people, has these templates and then just tweaks them ever so slightly so that they can be adaptable anywhere world wide. With this thought, we all have 'twins' around the globe that are ridiculously similar to us by nature. Of course, we all are nurtured in different ways which also takes a toll into who we are, but the heart is made of the same foundation. I like to think that Jenna is my Chinese twin. 

As she had tears in her eyes, I distinctly remember telling her before I left that when she is sad, she can simply look at the moon and know that I see the same moon she does. This cheered her up so much, knowing that she and I could continue to have in common that we see that same moon. Plus, when you think about the moon, we really aren't that far away from each other.

Dear Kayla It is rain day, I really miss you. I remember It is a beautiful Summer that you came China time went by, It is Autumn.I think it is very quikly. How are you? It is a chance that I can write letter for.   Do you remenber you took so many photors in last day summer camp. I watch it everyday. I always talk it with Lily,Ned,Mandy,and so many classmates. We all like you. You are beauliful,funny ,and how much we love. You made us interested in English. We thanks you so much.   Time goes by.Our town is cool,I know Autumn will out. I still remenber the time when you leave.I was so sad,I want to play with you long time.I look at sky evernight .I remenber you told me if I miss you I can see star.Next year we will say bye for our middle shool.We have to study hard ,we are really bessy.   I really miss you ,I want to play with you next time.I really thanks for you giveing me a happy holiday.Kayla how about your time?Are you bessy? It is teacher's day In Sept10th.So I want to give you my congratulation,because you are my teacher.But I also sad I can't see you and play with you again. You are my sunshin my only sunshin, you make me happy. how much I love you .but ... Miss Kayla we hope you happy happy happy.smile on you face in you life .We will miss you in our country. see you next wensday.                                                                         Yous,   Jenna

-康妮

Raising Helen

I am currently in a series of posts that involve children I know. Children that, I believe, have the world deserve to know their story. The world deserves to know who they are, because the world would be changed by them. These are students in China, currently 16 and 17 years old. Students who have never left the mountain range in which they live. Children who have dreams and passionate hearts, just like the rest of us.

Helen is the student that I wish to highlight this time around. She wasn't the brightest student in the classroom, in fact her face was most often a rosy shade of pink because she frequently blushed when speaking English. I was even hesitant to call on her for the embarrassment she would seem to display (I got over that real quickly though. I soon found myself having the most fun embarrassing the quiet students). Helen was meek and mild, and not the most popular amongst her peers, Helen holds a special place for me. Helen was a passionate student, and passion was something that wasn't in the eyes of every student.She was a very lovable person and expressed love openly.

It is in Chinese culture to be very touchy with those of your same gender. Walking down the street holding hands or giving piggy back rides is very common among students. Touching is a sign of friendship. This is something that we were prepped about before arriving. I had come to my second week and found myself slightly discouraged that my students hadn't yet been comfortable in giving me a hug, or holding my hand. Helen was the first to "break the spell". I found myself engaged in a conversation with her, and before I knew it, both of my hands were clutched in hers and passion and excitement bubbled out of her eyes. From that point on, Helen was my hugger, most often attached at my hip, and looking at me with love in her eyes.

Perhaps one of my favorite days teaching was the day we taught about South Africa. Our curriculum was beautiful in that every day we focused on a different country and learned about customs, language and focused on "Our World: United". South Africa just so happens to be a country that I am also passionate about, so I took the opportunity to teach my students a song from the country, entitled Njalo. Little did I know that this song would soon be a favorite among my Chinese students, and we would find ourselves singing it as we walked across the courtyard, or as we walked to lunch. Helen was entranced by singing in class, and always an active participant for whatever crazy Miss Kayla was doing. During our day on South Africa, I saw it inevitable to teach about apartheid. Although this was not a part of the curriculum, I took some time to explain apartheid to my students. They were completely clueless in regards to this part of the nations history, many of them appalled that a nation would have such segregation and hatred. And, although they couldn't express themselves in English, it was clear by the looks on their faces that they had learned, and that they were impacted.



We spent another day discussing the nation of India and focused on the abundant population of poor people that are in that country. We had a "special guest" visit our room, and the students were able to meet Mother Theresa in person (aka, Miss Stephanie). During this lesson day we also had the opportunity to discuss what goals and ambitions were, and what our students wanted to be when they 'grew up'. I distinctly remember Helen rising to share with tears in her eyes, saying that when she grows up she is going to travel to India to help the poor people, just like Mother Theresa. Throughout the course of our China adventure, she would remind me of the poor people of India, and all the help that is needed there.  This touched my heart hard core, knowing that these students themselves were all poverty stricken- yet they refused to see themselves that way. Instead some had a desire to help those who were in worse conditions than their own. That is compassion, and that is love, and that is something you don't see everyday.

I was able to pull a sample of Helen's writing to share. Being the collector that I am I have various stacks of memories from my past summer. Somewhere there are writing samples that I took the first day of camp, and I wish so terribly that I could find them. I wish that I could demonstrate the improvement that this summer camp provided for these students. Nonetheless, the following is a reflection done by Helen about her favorite memory of Summer Camp.

"Time goes by. I'm very happy during these days. I have learned a lot. So I'm grateful to all of you. I very like Miss Kayla's class and listening she sing songs. I love Miss Bennett's games. especially during the classes when we were tired. I like all dances Miss Bennett, Miss Stephanie, Miss Liu, and Miss Jane, and Miss Kayla taught us.I love all kinds of activities you taught us. I also like the American birthday and we learn lot of about it. If we had enough time, I wanted to stay with you all the time. Finally thank you for teaching us a lot. I best wishes you. Happy every day and all the best. I love all of you.

-Helen."


I hope with all my heart that I one day will turn on the CBS Evening news to find Helen in India, to find her helping others. I hope and pray that she follows her heart and loves the world with all the passion that's bundled up inside her.

-康女

Oh, Jaime...

Yesterday was supposed to be an ordinary day. That didn't end up happening because I awoke to find an email in my inbox. Now, please  be aware that I receive emails every day, however I received one from 风中烟云. I am well aware that hardly anyone I know is literate in Chinese, to many these look like just a bunch of "Chinese stuff". I learned very quickly that these Chinese characters are the name of one of my most beloved students, Jaime. 

Growing up I was never a fan of "teachers pet" or having favorites in a classroom (even though on several occasions I was one of them ;)) . However, this summer having a classroom of my own, I realized that it is nearly impossible to not have a favorite or two... or five. There are just particular students that you are naturally drawn to as an educator. Jaime was most definitely a favorite. Perhaps I'll take a blog post to dedicate towards each one of my faves from this summer. The world should know their story. Jaime is something special.

Jaime, Jaime, Jaime, where to even begin. Jaime is a poor farm boy. His parents are farmers in a small town outside the small city to LongDe. He lives at LongDe #1 Middle School and takes the bus home on weekends. He lives away from his family and is the oldest of two. (The one-child rule is not as strongly in effect in the countryside of China. The term 'countryside' would be an understatement in describing where we were). Because Jaime lives at the school we had the occasion to eat lunch with him and a few other students who stayed at the schools cafeteria for lunch. He was always eating rice, his nose always dripping because of its ridiculous spice. He would tell me his dreams of becoming a soldier for his country when he grows up. He would look me in the eyes and say "I want to be a man of honest." 

Oh, Jaime's eyes. Our team would have nicknames for various students as we discussed them every other hour of the day. We would refer to Jaime as "Jaime with the sparkling eyes". Not that there was another Jaime to distinguish him from, but Jaime's eyes just sparkled in this way...it would be a disgrace to not credit them in his title. I would get lost in Jaime's eyes (not that I sat there and stared at him all day) but he was one of very few male students who would actually look me in the eye, as I was A.) a female, and B.) a teacher in a higher status than them. Jaime had a tender spirit, he was quiet and not attention seeking, yet he was a leader, and I could see it in my classroom. He was nearly always the first one done with any assignment, and his puppy eyes would follow me around the room as I checked his classmates work. When I would arrive at his desk, he would gleam and hand me his work, so proud to show me what he had done. Although there were plenty of mistakes, he was most often correct or had the general gist of what was correct.

Jaime, like all the other boys, had a love for anything sports, and a knack for messin' around, the same way teenage boys do here in America. Our final day, us teachers wanted to celebrate so we brought three cakes to our final day of class. It is Chinese custom not to eat the cake, but to wear it. As teachers, we weren't thinking ahead and 5 of us verses 80 students turned out to be...messy. In my pursuit of my students, I was blindsided by a handful of frosting in the face by non other than, Jaime. He was so proud that he was able to get me and made faces at me the rest of the day, the same way a younger brother would tease an older sister.

One of our class projects was to make a banner of all the things that we had learned during English Camp. The kids were instructed to use one piece of paper, and only use one side so we could turn it into a collage. How many sheets did Jaime use? Two. Did he write on both sides? Yes. Did he stay on task? No. But at the end of the day, he approaced me, a beaming smile and sparkling eyes "Miss Kayla, I make this for you." Two pieces of construction paper were loosely taped together. On one side, two hearts overlapping, like a venn diagram. One labeled, China, the other, USA. Written below, "I learn English, I learn how to appreciate another culture." On the back, a letter addressed specifically to me:

"Dear Miss Kayla,

I'm very happy to attend summer camp and I'm very happy to meet you! To be honest. 

You are a great teacher. I'm proud of you! especially your personality. Although. the time is not long. 

Also, you are friendly to us. from you careful teach. i learned many. 
I realized multiculture all over the world. 

and i learned many English skills that how to study English.

I think you will be leave us in the days but I'll never forget the time that we get along with. 

and I hope you can give you email for me we can talk each other in the future.

That's all. Thank you!

-Jaime"

This was one of the 'smile moments' we teachers shared in our office. Everyday after class we as a group would take about a half hour to gloat about our students and share the hilarious and heartwarming things that occurred in our classrooms. Jaime would continually tell me how proud he was of me. I don't think it quite sunk in that I was the one who was so proud of him.

One of our last days we had some free time in the building. I walked into the classroom to find Jaime and some fellow boys having fun on the chalkboard, writing Chinese characters. Upon requesting that I possibly learn one or two the boys immediately flocked to my learning aid.  We were having fun "you very quick, very good", and they very much were enjoying the chance to 'teach teacher.' One boy (not a student of mine) then asked what my Chinese name was. I informed them that I had no Chinese name. At this, their eyes bulged and they immidiately begain babbling in Chinese, fingers pointing at different parts of me, fits of laughter, head nods and drawings on the chalkboard. I said "Jaime, what is going on?" "We give you name. We want it to be for you." They progressed to give me the name kang ni  (康女). Kang means health, and ni is a common name given to a girl. "Health, for your energy and personality that is special," said Jaime.

Our final afternoon at LongDe #1 involved a lot of tears, a lot of hugs, and an hour long photoshoot with all the officials and half of the city. In the craziness of the paparazzi, gathering our things and exchange of gifts (note--gifts are HUGE in China) I lost the opportunity to say a final goodbye to some of my students. As we walked the long way back to our hotel, I silently noted to myself that Jaime was one of these students. It became something I was silently torn up about as we ate a final dinner with the school officials. Several courses, dice games, and cigarettes later, the school officials decided that we were tired and had to head back to our hotel (yes, I said that right--its the way things work in China, ask me about it sometime). Us teachers, walking down the street were taking in all of the maddness and beauty that was around us. We talked about how we didnt want to leave, our highlights of the day and whatnot. We were interrupted by a distant "Miss Kayla...". It came from accross the street. It was dark outside, anyone could have said it. I stopped to turn, and who was running towards me but Jaime. Through all the moments in China, this was one of my biggest God-moments.  He was allowing me to say my final goodbye. Jaime and I hugged on the street. And we said our goodbye. And we both walked away with misty, sparkling eyes.

I don't know why I fell so in love with Jaime, but I hope to keep his memory and spirit alive in who I am, in the stories I share. I have no doubt that he will grow up to be an honest man.

-康女

where are you christmas...

Have you ever been stuck in a thought? Stuck in a mindset that continues to remind you every other minute of a particular thing or concept? I think that it is safe to say that this has happened to most people, the human mind is a complexity that I can merely pretend to know about. It's one of those things that we'll never know every detail about, and therefore 'tis fun to simply imagine truths about it, just because no one can really prove them wrong.

Perhaps it is six months later that I am debriefing my China experience. Perhaps it is six months later that I am actually allowing it to change me the way that I know it has. I am a native of Rochester, New York. Yes, quite the snow country. Home of many people, home of Kodak, Susan B. Anthony, and the more modern day famous tidbit we take ownership for is the eastern coast phenomenon, "Wegmans." Now, if you have never been to a Wegmans allow me to inform you. It is a grocery store on crack. I grew up with Wegmans, it has always been down the street since I can remember. Little did I know that so many others did not live the life of which I took for granted.

When I arrived at college all the talk was of the newly opened Wegmans a few towns over. Luckily for me, it wasn't too far to get a taste of home. It was at one point during my sophomore year (oh my, 2 years ago) that I went to church alone. Being the introvert that I am and my peculiar means of entertainment, I decided to just take a drive after church. A nice Sunday drive, that's what they did decades ago. Of course I ended up getting myself lost at various points, yet I was always able to find a familiar road. Well, before I decided to call it quits I happened to drive past the newly built Wegmans. I decided to stop in and was unexpectedly overwhelmed with emotion. I stood in line at the sub shop (ps-sidenote- a sub from Wegmans will change your life, you'll despise every Subway you look at for the mere shame it brings itself). At this sub shop I was invisibly struck with memories of myself and my family, much much younger squeezing and screaming, driving the woman behind the counter mad as we tried to order 5 subs at once. We had to order fast so that we could make it home in time for the Steelers game...that may or may not have been on TV due to the 3 channels we received, and for Rochester's proximity to the Buffalo Bills...nonetheless it was always a gamble whether or not we would actually get to watch the Steelers, but it still was a thrill every week.

While standing in line I was moved to tears. And for some odd reason I pulled out my phone and called my dad. I stepped out of line for fear of causing a scene. People in line would think that I had a severe reaction to the horseradish. My dad, always ecstatic to answer the phone joined in my emotion as I just stood before the sub shop, hustle and bustle around me, but in my own little world.

I recant this because today I had a similar experience in Wegmans. A similar experience in that I was experiencing memories and moved to tears. I was thinking of the orange lady on the corner in China, who we would buy our oranges and apples from. Only twice. Our ice cream lady, whom we would visit every day after school, and reward our teaching with Chinese ice cream, one kuai apiece. She was floored that foreigners would purchase her ice cream. Language barrier, yes, but we were able to connect with this woman, and we were ever so grateful for her ice cream...and such a variety!

Today, I was moved to tears because I was tormented. I was so overwhelmed with the hustle and bustle of this holiday season, seeing mountains upon mountains of tomatoes, lettuce, pineapples, and so many isles of box, after can, after package of stuff that will be thrown away. So that we for a day can stuff our faces a little bit more than usual and praise God for how blessed we are. I was thinking about how excited a starving child would be to have just one of the bagels that was sitting in the basket, or just one of the cheesesticks in the package of 24. I was so overwhelmed with how much consumption was going on around me I began to get dizzy and see stars. And then my eyes got hot, and my face became wet. This is what happens when thoughts recount over and over inside your mind. The question I ask myself is, 'what am I going to do about it?'

So I ask and challenge you this holiday season to think of our festivities a little bit differently. To a homeless child, Christmas is just another day to survive, another day to find food. There's nothing special about it. To me, knowing that someone out there must feel and experience that, makes me feel and experience that too.

"We have enough for everyone's need, but never enough for everyone's greed."--Gandhi


Team LongDe 1 with our "Ice Cream Lady".

China or Genetics

Every day, we are bombarded with questions. We are bombarded with information. People like me tend to replay these questions over and over again internally, searching for an answer that is ambiguous. Of course, I know that I will never reach the answer, but that doesn't stop me from trying. We live in a society of "try everything", "do everything" and "be successful". But replaying these questions is more than just about finding answers to have an answer. It's about finding an answer that will help me discover who I am created to be, and by Whom I was created by.

This past summer I had a life changing experience in the poverty stricken city of LongDe, China. I taught English to a classroom of 20 high school aged Chinese students, none of whom had ever met a white person before in their life. As a team, we taught them songs, games, and childhood, as childhood is stripped away in Chinese society by the ever-pressing rigorous academics of the College Entrance Exam. Upon arriving we were talked to about the importance of these exams, and how students would be receiving their scores within the next few days. The suicide rate would be dramatically increasing while we were there. I envisioned in my head hundreds, thousands of Chinese students, years younger than I, taking their own life because of a score. Because a score deemed them not good enough for success. Because of the shame a score can bring to them, and their families.

At first it was easy to compartmentalize. What happened on that side of the world can stay on that side of the world, but that experience changed me, and that could not be contained for long. My issue was getting it out, having an outlet, having people around me who were willing to simply listen. Processing never happened, and people never came. But who I am still lives inside and is still forever changed, forever consumed with a love, passion, and concern for the hurting, the innocent, and the helpless.

I find coming back to this webpage which I have ignored for months completely spiritually hilarious in some regards. I say this because it's kind of like a prophesy as to what this summer has taught me and to who I am growing to be. Yes, I do indeed love people very much, and through months and months of difficulty, spiritual wrestling, questioning, and personal doubts and fights, lots has truely come together. The path that I walk is truely straight and narrow. I believe that as followers of Chirst, we are all called to this path. A very few take it, and that saddens me. We've lost the picture, the vision of what it means to be like Christ, and instead we fill our lives with traditions and acts, and half-hearted prayers that disillusion us into being followers of Christ. To truely love the poor, we must know the poor. We must attempt for some type of understanding and community that is beyond putting money in a basket. China is heavy on my heart.

So I ask, is family made up of who you are genetically related to, or those who share your heart? In China, I felt closer to many than I have ever felt before, even though I have spent years of life with those whom I call 'family'. Oh China, what am I to do with you?



Where do I belong? Where do I belong? Where do I belong? Where do I belong?