Author: chungwipff

Put That Thing Away!

Weeks ago, I came home from work to find my daughters completely immersed in “screen time.”

Screen time is commonly known as time spent on any electronic: TV, computers, tablets, hand held video games and even cell phones.

girls and me
At their most recent violin recital.

Josie, (aka Instagram Queen), was on my iPad scrolling and commenting on various pictures. Scroll, comment, scroll, comment. Ava was on her laptop watching YouTube videos of past and present winners of The Voice. They hardly looked up as I put my things away, changed my clothes and started dinner. I asked them how their day was, what happened in school…and they responded with grunts and monosyllabic answers: “Good, fine….” I noticed that I had to nudge and then nag them to practice violin, something they used to do more willingly.

So I made a decision. With husband’s agreement (it won’t work if only one parent is enforcing it), I decided to confiscate and hide all electronics until violin practice and homework had been completed. Do you know how hard it is to hide an 84″ flat screen TV?  It worked. Ava completed her homework and violin practice and then played catch with Opal in the street. Josie completed all of her work and then picked up dog poo from the backyard! They conversed with me and I learned that Ava is very fond of her new friends Lucy and Caroline at school and Josie is frustrated that her math went from an A to a B.

Ahhhhhh! I had my family back! It felt mean and terrible to do, but I’m their mother, not their friend. I cannot allow them to become Screen Time Zombies in lieu of communicative students and daughters. I encourage you to try this, at the very least, put pass codes on your devices (I did!)  and don’t allow them screen time until the work is done.

The Mother Land

Recently, I discovered that Korean refugees from North Korea are actually discriminated against in South Korea!

I couldn’t believe it. Where is the humanity? The abuse and absolute horrific treatment of North Korean civilians by their government is well-known so why would South Koreans greet them with anything but open arms?  It’s clear that education and empathy are absent.

Enter an amazing South Korean TV program called, “Now On My Way to Meet You.”  It’s an example of using media as a powerful medium for positive social change. The program first aired December of 2011 and, despite the tagline which alludes to “North Korean Beauties,” it does anything but objectify these escapees. You can read more about it and watch a clip here: Cari’s Blog. Basically, these women play games, laugh and recount their stories of life in North Korea for an enormous South Korean audience. The result?  An empathetic reaction where South Koreans are understanding and seeing these women as people.  The culture is slowly evolving into a supportive, loving one towards their sisters and brothers.

Sewol Heroes
Sewol Heroes

I have numerous cousins, aunts and uncles who live in South Korea and I have visited the country three times. In 1999, I was there for two months on an NSF research grant and I fell in love with the land and people. As news of the ferry disaster unfolded, there was a collective sigh of exasperation, shock, and anger all around me. How could this happen? The students were told to stay put? Why?!

If my father had not decided to immigrate to the United States, I could have been born and raised in South Korea. In fact, if that had happened, I would likely have been married with children a bit earlier (and who knows?)  I could have had a high school student on the ill-fated Sewol ferry and be mourning his/her death right now. These connections and possibilities only make me ponder our roles in life. I’m a teacher and I’m proud of it because I can actually impact 32 young people per year. But… can I do more? The producer of “On My Way to Meet You” has created such a critical solution to an enormous problem.  What if we all stopped asking why and started asking how? HOW can I help this situation? I think it’s a powerful question.

 

 

 

Just You and Me

When Josie was two years old, she slept in a white iron crib.

20140416_164505When I heard her stir, I’d come into the room and sing, “Good morning, my beautiful child!” I’d make up my own lyrics and melody, and she stood there, hands on the rails, lips pouting, curly hair flip flopped about her head. Then she’d lisp, “No thinging! No thinging!” I’d stop singing and carry her out of the crib. She had the Terrible Twos something bad. She threw temper tantrums daily and her jealousy of her newborn sister was immense. Finally, after a week of this, I decided I couldn’t be bossed around by my own toddler. I sang my song and she demanded I stop. This time, I answered, “Josie, it’s morning. I love you and I’m the mommy and you’re the baby and I’m going to sing if I want to and you’re not going to tell me no.” So I resumed singing. She stared at me incredulously. “NO! NO THINGING! NO THINGING!” She started to jump up and down, hands still on the rails. As she came down, her chin hit the rail and she bit her tongue. She cried her little lungs out. “Uh, I will come back later.”  I told her. I felt the Mom Guilt all the time. Poor Josie was left to her own devices while I changed Ava’s diaper, 20140413_145033fed Ava, took naps. I’d have to hand Josie off to her father a lot.

To this day, we rarely spend one on one time together. But today, I offered to go shoe shopping with the girls and Ava wanted to stay home while Josie wanted to go with me. So off we went. She found a red pair of Keds with wide ribbons. We joked around a lot. We laughed and ate chocolate.  We bought a gift for friends who are expecting a baby, a baby carrier that can be worn in the front or as a backpack. I held my babies that same way frequently, enjoying their little bodies laying against mine, while I dusted furniture.

Josie wanted to hold my hand as we walked through the mall, this twelve year old who is now a half inch taller than me. I reveled in it, for I wondered, “At what age will she find it embarrassing to hold my hand?” She wanted nothing more than to just be with me. I’m a lucky mom.

“A coward is incapable of exhibiting love; it is the prerogative of the brave.” ― Mahatma Gandhi

bul·ly*

1  [bool-ee]  Show IPA   noun, plural bul·lies.

1. a blustering, quarrelsome, overbearing person who habitually badgers and intimidates

smaller or weaker people.

2. Archaic. a man hired to do violence.

*www.dictionary.com
I have a problem with this definition. I don’t think you have to pick on someone “smaller” or “weaker” than you in order to be a bully. Bullies pick on nice people. Nice people are not weak. I would edit the definition to read:
1.  a blustering, quarrelsome, overbearing person who habitually badgers and intimidates others due to self-hatred.
The CAUSE of the person’s behavior helps us to understand the reasons behindBullying-stands-for the action(s). We (society) are more apt to think of ways to prevent bullying or solve the problem if we understand the cause and include it in the definition.
I ask my 32 students (often): “Imagine you wake up to a sunny day and you’re in a great mood. You’re looking forward to your day because you’re going to the carnival or a beach vacation or something great. You’re happy. Do you feel like picking on someone? Do you feel like cutting them down and making them feel badly?” The answer is always no. Then I ask, “What if you wake up on the wrong side of the bed?  You’re in a bad mood, you feel slightly sick about a test you failed….nothing seems to be going right. How likely is it that you will take it out on your brother? A kid at school you don’t like?”  They always get silent and agree that if they’re not happy, they don’t want to make others happy.
***
THIS is the crux of bullying. Of course, bullying is more than a bad mood, it’s an on-going, consistent state of social terrorism.
***
My daughter recently received an email written by four girls she believed were her friends. In cowardly fashion (and against school rules), they composed an email during school on a school computer using a school email address. After alienating her at lunch, they went to the computer lab and crafted their message, essentially telling her she “didn’t belong” in their group because she is “different.” They wrote it at 11:30am. She read it at 3:30pm while at home, alone in her room. We’ve all heard the stories of children who read emails or see posted photos or videos and then commit suicide. This form of bullying is insidious, silent and deadly. We must talk to our children (ALL of us!) and stand united in our absolute rejection of this type of behavior. My ten year old daughter cried for two days.  “Why? Why? Why?” echoed in her head. I allowed her to cry, but I made it clear that THEY were in the wrong, not her. I was surprised that she truly felt she had done something wrong. She told me she felt ashamed. I looked her straight in the eyes and said, “Listen, there is absolutely NO reason you should be ashamed. These four girls, THEY should be ashamed. You did nothing wrong.” She got some sleep and in the morning, she sent me this Internet picture:
happy poster

I was relieved, but wondered, “Is she really OK?” I had been asking her all week if there was something wrong, she hadn’t talked about her friends in a couple weeks. She said everything was fine.  This is not like her, to hide such things from me.  With the Internet, smart phones and tablets, it’s all too easy to carry on several conversations at once, even destructive ones. We must remain diligent in our efforts to fight bullying, but it has to start with the bullies. Parents need to be crystal clear in what is acceptable and what is not. One student has apologized, but her did not communicate anything to us or our daughter. She simply allowed her daughter to say, “I’m sorry.” As I told Ava, “Actions speak louder than words.” We shall see how things go.

I read an article and got inspired.

1948180_10152141761378025_1457480227_nIra Glass says the key to success is plain old hard work. Keep working, don’t think too much about it. FINISH!  And I’ve always wanted to be able to draw or paint and I know I’m not good at it – YET. So I sat down despite all the “work” I have to do (lesson plans, consulting work, a short story I want to finish) and I made art. It barely looks like opal. When I showed it to Josie, she said, “Um, I like the colors.” Ava hugged me because the criticism stung so badly.

But I shall persevere.

Eau de Vacation

Solana Beach….spring break…ahh!

beachWe traveled to meet up with my brother, his lovely wife and my adorable niece. This was an auspicious visit as I had my mother in tow! She was looking forward to spending a few days with three of her five grandchildren.  The first day was spent at SeaWorld. No, I haven’t seen the Killer Whale documentary, but I’m grateful so many people did and decided to boycott the place. We didn’t have to wait in any lines!

It was pleasantly s p a c i o u s.

Next day, we went to the Air and Space Museum where Willey thoroughly enjoyed himself. Josie and Ava were at first bummed about being there, but quickly realized the hands on kids’ activities and we all experienced our first ever 4-D movie theater film!  A series of four 5 minute roller coaster type animations were played and our chairs moved in tandem to the action. Literally, we felt we were on a roller coaster! Hungry, we made our way to downtown San Diego and thanks to Yelp, I found a Korean/Chinese/Japanese fusion restaurant. My mom had endured 48 hours of no rice at this point and she was melting. East Asian Diner was not so bad, we ate the hot pot rice dishes: beef and tofu. The kimchi was good and my mother was able to exhale at last.

Finally, we went to the beach down the street from our hotel. We love the great girlsexpanse of sand, ocean air and sun.  The girls jumped right in, went as far as the surfers were, and tried to ride the waves, without boards. Willey and I took a walk, my mother watched on, worried and then walked the beach too. 

If only I could bottle the experience, “eau de vacation.” It would smell like the ocean, kimchi and SeaWorld pizza. Ahhhh!

Bonjour!

Our new neighbors were expecting friends from France.

Mr. B. came to our door. “We are expecting friends from France. They have girls your ages. Do you think they could play together?” “Of course!” I replied. “They don’t speak any English,” Mr. B. stated. “No worries!” I replied.  Ava added, “We can always communicate via Google Translate.”  Brilliant!

The girls came. They were beautiful and shy. I had prompted Josie and Ava to be prepared with some ideas and games. Of course, when I suggested board games, they wrinkled their noses and chorused, “Boring!” So I allowed them to plan it on their own.

The girls started by opening a laptop with Google translate on. They typed and communicated what they were going to do. First thing: origami. Josie laughed as one of the girls accidentally ripped her paper, looked at Josie and then threw it over her shoulder!

The play date continued, communication largely facilitated by the translating program, but occasionally by means of facial expressions and key words.

20140308_184257 (1)

The French girls then suggested that they play dodge ball. They all went to the park a few blocks away and played, sharing an iPhone to continue their dialogue. Upon their return, they played a game of billiards and then joined us for dinner. The night ended at 10pm – way past their bedtime. But all the girls had a fantastic time. “I wish they lived on this block! It would be so fun!” Josie lamented this morning. The guests depart for France on Tuesday.

Josie and Ava are composing a letter (with help from Google!) and are assembling a farewell gift.

gifts for girls

Wherever You Go, There You Are

Image

Josie and Ava are members of a Symphony.

This is their second year. The Symphony is made up of four divisions, with Division IV being the most junior, and Division I is made up primarily of 8th and 9th graders, the highest level of the Symphony. They hold chair auditions three times a year.

The girls jumped right up to Division III from the beginning and we were all amazed. Since then, with each audition for a new seat, they’ve moved up. I warned them that this is highly unusual, and that they should be prepared for moving down at some point. After all, they’ve observed this happening to many others in the group. This year, they made it to Division II, Violin I, and I told them that this is quite an accomplishment, that they ought to be proud and keep working hard.

The girls auditioned. When I asked how it went, Josie was quite confident that she did well. Ava was less sure, “I messed up on a few measures. But I think I did OK.” It turns out that Josie jumped many seats up. Ava moved down about 15 chairs. This was traumatic for her. This was her first “fail” (although I didn’t see it that way). For a week, she slumped and was sad. She mentioned a viola player who did the same thing: he was 2nd chair and fell to second to last. “Mom, I noticed this boy, he fell many seats and he used to sit really tall. He was proud and now, he has terrible posture. He is always frowning and he doesn’t look like he wants to be there.” I asked her, “And what do you think of that?” “I think it’s sad.” A few weeks passed. “Mom, remember that viola player I told you about?” “Yes.” “Well, I noticed he’s still slumped and depressed. I even wonder if he’ll quit.”  I expected her to tell me how she was going to cheer him up. I thought she would share with me her plan.

“I’ve decided that I don’t deserve to sit where I’m sitting. I messed up in the audition, but I’m better than 22nd chair. I’ve decided that no matter what happens, no matter where I’m sitting, I will sit as if I am sitting where I DESERVE to sit.”

I was blown away. This is something I learned late in life:  Disregard what others think of me and hold my head up high. She’s only ten years old. How did she know this?

“Wow Ava, I am very proud of you. That is amazing that you came up with that on your own.”
“Well, this boy, he’s very good too and he shouldn’t let it affect him this way.”

Yet another life lesson learned through their serious violin practice.

Sisters Beyond Compare

As long as I can remember, my daughters have been working at their “identities”  in comparison to one another. I’m the “good student,” she’s the “artist…”

Ava's note to Josie

Growing up with a sister only 11 months younger than me, we were compared to each other incessantly. Are you twins? Who is funnier?  Which is prettier? Who is thinner? Which one of you is going to Stanford?  Julie, our babysitter, sat with us, coloring in coloring books. JoAnne was 4, I was 5. After we finished, she looked at our work. “Hm. JoAnne colors very neatly. Caroline, you need to stay within the lines.” (It’s not the first time I’ve heard that and I’m sure it won’t be the last)!

Racist taunts at school and a volatile home life bonded us close together. We shared a secret sense of humor sparked by a facial expression or a nonsense word only the two of us understood. We’d break into giggling fits until our stomach muscles cramped. The spell would only be broken when we were compared. One hurt, the other feeling sorry for her sister.  This one is louder, this one is a better student, this one likes to clean and this one doesn’t.  I was the one deemed by my parents to not be very intelligent (in fact, a veritable disappointment academically), but hella good at the cello and the piano.  I readily labeled myself the “Artist” because of this “encouragement” and because I knew I couldn’t compete with my sister academically. This has been verified and observed in numerous studies: siblings work to differentiate themselves from one another.

1382125_10151947936209588_2095524717_n
My Sister (left) and Me

As my daughters grow, I try to instill a strong work ethic and constantly tout the importance of being true to oneself as the only barometer ofsuccess.  Ava’s written declaration of herself as the poet and Josie as the graphic artist is sweet and telling, but even sweeter is Josie’s advice that it’s “your emotions that make your art a masterpiece.” Her insight is remarkable: your authentic voice, your true thoughts and feelings are what make you “great.” Both girls can be great artists,  fantastic writers, violinists….both are amazing in their own way. 

That is beyond compare.

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