Are You Okay?

Response from a current student who I reached out to last week:

Hey Ms. Kang

Yeah there's a lot going on, but im really emailing you to see if you are okay.

Friday afternoon.

I was ready for that last bell to ring to close the end of a rough week

and signal the beginning of a much-needed weekend to rest and recharge.

Little did I know that seconds before the end of the last bell,

in the solitude of my quiet prep period,

the piercing loud speaker would go on 

Teachers, we are in lockdown.

Doors slamming in the hallways

madness

confusion.

Students swarming in all directions.

Colleagues nervously poking their heads out.

The poor substitute across the hallway

searching my face for cues on what to do next,

yet I, too, was a blank road map. 

Girl running down with a furrowed look

Left hand pressed against a bloody right arm.

A trail of red droplets before my feet. 

Is this actually happening?

Security sternly commanding teachers

to hoard the remaining students into empty classrooms.

Channel 6 and NBC crews already stationed on the grounds.

Helicopters flying overhead.

Strange bitterness and anger welling up.

Students beginning to crowd around my window,

trying to get a glimpse of what's happening down below.

SWAT team officers moving in.

Making eye contact with an unexpected Asian male

dressed in officer uniform

as I stood bearing my school lanyard.

Both making eye contact

feeling out of place

wondering

why are you here?

Chaos.

Searching for answers--who got hurt?

Please don't let it be one of my kids.

Who shot the gun?

Please don't let it be one of my kids.

And in the midst of it all,

my student gently looks into my furrowed face

"Ms. Kang, are you okay?"

And that is what disturbed me the most.

My students...

whose first reaction when hearing a car skid by is

to duck down immediately 

because they were conditioned to do so.

My students...

who have seen this more often than television

that the first thing they would do is to

console a teacher who thought her job 

was to protect them.

Oh Lord, be my refuge and strength.

Photo Reel: Winter Break

Giggles from the kitchen

27-year-old oppabear

funny fortune from Chinese buffet

reunions with dear sisters 

Happy Birthday Jesus :)

my silly parents, oh how I pray for a sweet marriage like yours<3 p="">

momma and poppa had the excellent idea of

sending one of our pastors out on a date with his lovely wife

and spending the evening baby-sitting their precious children.

...and I'm the lucky daughter that gets to take part in these blessings!

New Year New Perspective

Hello 2 0 1 4.

After an early breakfast and seeing my brother off to the youth retreat,

I returned home with the parents for a very relaxing first day of the new year.

Despite my slightly swollen gums from the wisdom teeth extractions yesterday,

 my stubborn self mashed and chewed my mother's 

impeccable homemade mandoo and dduk gook :)

Meanwhile, a sudden break in our boiler led to an unexpected flood in our kitchen.

Thank the Lord for a family with a sense of humor, because what could've been a

stressful incident ended up in laughter and silly walks with the parents to a vacant apartment 

for impromptu showers as we ourselves felt like we were at a retreat center.

From the onset of the new year, God has shown my family

what a blessing it is to have running water.

Lord, what else will you show us this year?

Break has been bittersweet--each day at home meant more time with family

but also came the slightly incredibly unnerving fact that I was one day closer to my flight

back to Philadelphia where another six months of exhaustion awaited me.

Break has been so good, but I've found myself emotionally burdened.

After rolling around at home watching movies with my parents,

I decided to follow them to the Wednesday evening service at church

...where it slowly came together. Little by little.

From my impromptu trip to Village Church last Saturday

to the service this evening and my coffee date with dear sisters afterwards,

God has been showing me the source of the brewing in my tummy all along.

The brewing that was unsatisfied with my jadedness, exhaustion, 

and my frightening indifference towards everything. 

The brewing that recognized something's wrong and 

constantly shouted, why are you putting everything off 

and...why are you so afraid?

This brewing that began in August and continued to silently torment me

as my dread of going back to Philadelphia grew larger by the minute.

"Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one receives the prize? So run that you may obtain it. Every athlete exercises self-control in all things. They do it to receive a perishable wreath, but we an imperishable. So I do not run aimlessly; I do not box as one beating the air. But I discipline my body and keep it under control, lest after preaching to others I myself should be disqualified" -1 Corinthians 9:24-27

Direction is more important than speed.

I've been bombarded by "you're so young" and yet coming home to more adult questions

like "where will you be going next?" and "are you seeing anyone lately?"

Knowing my second year as a TFA corps member is nearing its end, 

my heart's been frantically trying to figure out where to go next

and have only been frustrated at the many logistical obstacles that any path seems to present.

Rather than looking ahead at what Christ has already won for me,

rather than working from the victory, and living boldly knowing what is to come,

I've been trying to secretly run this race alone...beating the air and running aimlessly in the process.

This leads me to reflect on what has been a quiet exhausting start to my second year of teaching.

A dear sister pointed out that it's hard to love with the mindset of "I must love on these kids"

but rather my love should simply be an outpouring of the love that I receive from Christ.

And this has been the source of this deep "brewing" in my tummy.

I'm embarrassed to say that my priorities had unknowingly shifted this year

to one that placed my workplace above Christ and the church.

Every time I saw the church bulletin list its many needs,

I've been putting it aside and saying "I have so many lesson plans tonight.

I will be more active in the church once I get my own life together" 

But what is this life I speak of?

A life somehow perfected in the classroom and yet

devoid of an intimate relationship with my Savior?

"But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness,

and all these things will be added to you"

-Matthew 6:33

Daddy, it's so humbling realizing how weak I am...

that I find myself in this place again.

And yet you graciously reveal to me my failings 

so that I can run back to you.

Help me to know you more and love you more this new year.

That rather than a sprint, I run this marathon joyously 

being certain of what you've done in the past

and of what you secured for me in the future. 

May I thus run in this present all the more boldly 

knowing that it is simply You my heart truly desires.

...and all else?

Well, all else can just fall into the places

God intends them to.

Happy New Year, 2014.

Here's to running more deeply and boldly 

wherever He takes me.

Merry Christmas

This Christmas,

I'm once again reminded of how blessed I am 

...to have a listening mother and 'best friend' in the same person

...to have a prayerful father who is abounding in wisdom and patience

...to have a loving brother who surprises me with his humble heart of service

...to have a Savior who would not only give me all of the above

but would, above all, willingly enter this dark, broken world

to rescue a wretched child like me.

Oh daddy, I celebrate and praise you tonight.

Merry Christmas.

Christ is here.

Classroom to World Connections

If you remember from my last post, I had the privilege of watching my students understand the significance of saying the pledge after interacting with a soldier through a hand-written letter.

 

Today was a rough day, but my student informed me that she sent me an email this weekend.

I vaguely remembered the subject heading being some Twitter font, so I immediately deleted it, thinking it was one of the many spam mails that I often receive from students.

 

I was mildly embarrassed when she pulled up her email again to show me what she really sent after our class:

 

 

She suggested that I put it into my slides to project before the morning pledge.

 

I smiled.

 

Brilliant idea, Ayreeona.

Brilliant.

 

Thank you Lord, for moments like these

to hang onto when times get tough.

You are so good to me.

 

Family Exchange

circa August 2012

when Oppa visited Philly

 

Text to Parents:

 

Text to Children:

 

Parents win.



Teaching through the Heart

My school recently added the Pledge of Allegiance to the morning announcements. With that, unfortunately, came the threat that if students did not stand, they would be "written up for a suspension," which came as a surprise to all the teachers, including me.

The thought of punishing students for not following through did not sit well in my stomach. My students, dumbfounded and even angry, would eye me as only about a third of the class actually stood to recite the pledge. Is she actually going to write my name down?  I would quickly change the subject, unable to take sides--I felt subjected to the authority of the principal yet felt wrong to go through with such an order. They were never even taught the meaning of the pledge and this practice was never instilled in them before.

After reading some war poetry by Claude McKay and Langston Hughes with my poetry classes, I decided to wrap up the unit by writing to a soldier who was actually in the forefront of war.

A friend currently serving in Afghanistan graciously forwarded me the names of some of the soldiers he was serving with and each student chose to write to one. Their letters evolved from simple Thank Yous to deep, heartfelt letters writing about their own "battles" here in Philadelphia and expressing their appreciation to those fighting for them on the other side of the globe. It's been a while, if not the first time, that students have written hand-written letters--not surprising considering the social media-ridden generation of their days, so it was doubly refreshing to see them write raw letters with pen or pencil in hand..quietly writing to an unknown soldier and, in the process, making a new friend.

What I didn't expect was the loudspeaker to abruptly interrupt the peace in my classroom. It all took me by surprise.

No, not the loudspeaker. The kids.

They put their pencils down, and I could see them contemplating the flag that was plastered to the front of my classroom wall. I could see them shift a little in their seats. And then, for the first time, I could count on my one hand how many were still seated.

Because well, nearly all of my students stood up. Right hand across their chest, they stood for their comrades in Afghanistan. They stood for Private Thomas, Lieutenant Wolfe, Sergeant Kang, and Captain Bowen. Their actions now stood for something...for someone.

I was a given a glimpse of what it meant to teach through the heart.

Lord, teach me.
Show me.
Help us to Love You and Your People in room 209.