Parenthood: Week 228 - Baby Ethan is Here!

My second son Ethan was born, last Wednesday 10/25/17.

There’s a lot of thoughts and reflections floating around in my head, so I’m going to try to get down a few of them on this post that feel most important to capture.

Before Ethan was born, we had a couple names picked out for him. We figured that we would meet him and then decide. Ethan was born and after a couple hours, we both agreed that none of the names we picked out fit. For the next day, we spent our time at the hospital trying to figure out a name. We had some time to pick out a name, but it felt weird to me to not have it figured out. After many discussions, and scribbling out names all over a piece of paper, we landed on Ethan Milo Tang.

Why this name? It was a combination of how the sound of the name felt and their meaning. Names are very important, but at a certain point, I was fine compromising with Diana on this one. Does a name bring meaning to a child because of what a name means, or does a child bring meaning to a name because of how much you love your child? It’s a combination of both, but I lean towards the latter.

Ollie visited us twice when we were in the hospital. The first time, it was clear that he wasn’t into Ethan at all. Grandparents were around, and he didn’t really know what to do with the baby, or us. So the second time when he visited, I took him around the hospital floor. I showed him how to use the ice machine, which he thought was really cool, and I shared a snack with him. He still didn’t show much interest in Ethan, but when we came back from our exploration, he was excited to tell Diana about the ice machine. That’s something.

Both nights I slept over in the hospital. In the evening, I went home and spent some time with Ollie and did his bedtime routine as normal as possible. Even though he didn’t seem to care about the baby, he was really into me reading his human reproduction book as a bed time story.

The second night, while I was finishing my dinner, I looked over to Ollie and he had some toys in front of him, but he was silent and looked sad. I asked him if he missed his mommy, and he nodded silently. I sat on the floor with him, and asked him if a hug would help. Ollie took this as an invitation, and he crawled into my arms. I told him that it was okay for him to be sad, and if he felt this way, I would stay with him. So we sat for a couple minutes, talking softly, both thinking about the most important woman in our lives.

When Ethan was born, I was overwhelmed with a feeling of awe and pride in my wife Diana. For months, she carried our son and took care of him all by herself. She worked through the birthing process with strength that I knew existed in her, but rarely witnessed. Seeing someone you love, accomplish something amazing, not just the day of the birth, but through the whole process of pregnancy is remarkable.

Like Michelle Obama described the Presidency, Diana’s pregnancy and the birthing process, didn’t change her in my eyes. Instead it revealed more of her true self.  What was revealed to me, has inspired in me more respect and deeper love for my wife.

Frat Boy: The Museum - Part 1

I'm currently on paternity leave, so Friday's posts may not be school teaching focused.  So for now we're going back to college for the next two weeks.  

“The museum?”

“Yes, the museum. The Art Institute in downtown Chicago. Do you want to go with me?”

“Um. . . well. . . I. . .”

“Okay, great we are going. Let’s meet at the ATM at like, 2ish tomorrow, and we will walk to the EL.”

“The what?”

“Okay see you then. Bye!”

I stood there speechless, not sure what had happened. Did she just ask me out on a date? What had I gotten myself into?

Freshmen year band camp had been a whirlwind. Outgoing upperclassmen took in nervous and overwhelmed freshmen like myself. They would introduce themselves and pull us through the marching band activities acting as both mentors and counselors. These mentors relieved fears and deliberately worked to create a community that would sustain us throughout our years at Northwestern.

These upperclassmen were remarkable young adults, caring, giving, and kind. I’ve written about some of these acts of friendship and inclusion throughout these series of posts. They weren’t the only ones that reached out to me, freshmen also took chances with me. . . freshmen like Debbie.

Debbie was one of the fastest talkers I had ever met in my life. It was like her mouth was trying to keep up with her brain, which moved at an awe-inspiring speed. Debbie was not afraid of direct eye contact AND the fact that her eyes were on the exactly same level as me as we were the same height, added a layer of intensity, passion, and confidence to her words. Imagine Ellie from Up! as a college student (who talks three times as fast).



Debbie was the kind of person who wouldn’t wait for a dance partner. If she wanted to dance, she would dance. If she wanted to talk to you, she wouldn’t wait for you to start the conversation and if she wanted to go to the museum with someone, she would find someone to go with.

We only had a few interactions before Debbie asked me to go to the museum with her. She was in marching band and we were around each other quite a bit, however, I wasn’t really sure if it was a good idea to go to the museum with her. I figured she had made the effort to be friendly, so the least I could do was show up.

Somehow I got the impression from the way that Debbie fearlessly guided me through my first experience on the El train and navigating through that part of Chicago that she was a local. No, she was from Wisconsin. She only had a slight idea more than I did about how to get to the museum. For me, this lack of knowledge caused me to pull inside of myself, for Debbie, it pushed her energy outwards.

We entered the museum, and moved through the admission lines. As we walked into the first exhibit room, I heard silence for the first time in almost an hour. Debbie had stopped talking. We were both in awe of the art surrounding. I looked over at Debbie and saw her gracefully walk in a circle looking up at the paintings. Then she stopped moving, and closed her eyes. She slowly inhaled through her nose and gently blew air through pursed lips. She opened her eyes looked at me, and with a raised eyebrow and giddy smile said “C’mon, let’s go!”

Black & White

Parenthood: Week 227 – Dear Ollie, Love and The Coming Of Your Brother

Dear Ollie,

We’re almost to the point when your baby brother will be with us. This is a strange thing to say, because your baby brother has been with us for the better part of the last year, but he’s been inside of mommy. But trust me, it will feel different when your brother is on the side and you can see and hold him. While he’s always been with us, soon you will feel his presence in a very different way.

I don’t know if you have any worries about being a big brother. You seem more excited than anything else. You talk about wanting to teach him how to do things like walk and talk, and how you want to tell him about your Transformers. I also appreciate that you already have a plan when your baby brother poos. You have explained that you will yell loudly, “Mommy!! DADDY!!! The baby POOED!!!”

When the baby is with us outside of mommy, you will probably have some concerns. You brother will cry a lot, but don’t worry he’s not too sad. He will sleep a lot, but that’s okay, he need sleep just like you to grow and get stronger. While he’s not going to have a lot to say to you, and he will not respond to you much, he does hear and see you, and you are important to him.

One thing I want to reassure you of before he’s here is that while some things may change in your with your new baby brother, one thing will not. Mommy, daddy, Buffy, and all of your family will continue to love you more and more each day as we have your whole life. Your baby brother will not change that.

Your love is like a muscle, not a pie. With a pie you only have so much to give to the people you care about. With love, it’s like a muscle. Each time you express love, your ability and your capacity to love grows. Because every time you give a hug, you are also receiving love. In this way love gives you energy.  Love fills your spirit and in the end "the love you take, is equal to the love you make."

Yes, we’re all going to be tired when your baby brother is here. That doesn’t mean that we love you any less, it just means we are adjusting, and this, like all things shall pass. If you feel like that you need more from me, and my attention is with your baby brother, I promise that I will make sure to find time for you. I’m sorry if that means that you will have to wait sometimes.

The moments before I held you for the first time I was more scared, and more exhausted than I had been in my entire life.  However, when I held you in my arms, my capacity to care, to persevere, and to grow grew immediately. And I knew love and felt love like I never knew before. Your baby brother will have a similar effect on me and you.  We will both learn to love as we never have before.

Your brother never going to change the love we share between us.  Nothing can and nothing will.

You will always be my special little guy, I will always be proud of you, and I will always love you.

-Dad

Year 8: Week 8 – Progress

This week I started teaching my 3rd graders “Simple Gifts.” In order to help them understand the importance of this song in our culture, I show them different performances of this song.

This year I decided to start with the Gay Men’s Chorus of Los Angeles’ performance:


I introduced the video by telling my kids about how sometimes we enjoy hanging out with people that reflect parts of our identity. Sometimes, it’s nice to hang out with only boys, and I told them that sometimes I like being around only people who are Asian American. I explained to them that this is okay, as long as this isn’t the way that we live our lives all the time, because as much as it is important to be with people who share parts of your identity, we should also value spending time to be with people who are different than us.

I talked about how this choir was made up of people who identify as gay and/or homosexual and that this organization was a way for people in that community to spend time with each other. None of the students changed their expressions at all when I said the words “gay,” or “homosexual.” Theses words didn’t phase them at all. One student raised his hand as asked what I meant by “gay.” Immediately, almost every other student in the class raised their hand to answer this question.

I took a chance and called on people. Every single answer was positive and accepting. Students talked about having two dads or two moms, that people had partners who were sometimes the same gender as them, and that gay people simply loved people as their husbands or wives who were the same gender as them.

“Well, then why aren’t there any women in that choir? Women can be gay, right?”

I explained that he was right and that, there are times that gay people, men and women sing together, but that sometimes gay people like to be in different groups to do activities, and that was okay.

I’ve shown this video every year and this was the most explicit I’ve ever been about talking about sexuality, identity, and the importance and affinity groups to my 3rd graders. It went really well.  Kids took pride in their positive and inclusive language. In years past kids have giggled when discussion this video, and students have never had expressed so openly an understanding of what it meant to be homosexual.

I don’t credit for this sucess. This is society as a whole making progress, parents teaching about diversity, and my school going beyond tolerance to truly celebrated diversity.

A class full of eight year olds talking about sexual orientation, with knowledge, respect, and love, trumps hate.

Parenthood: Week 226 - The Best Thing To Say To Expectant Parents (or at least to me)

As the due date comes closer, people have stopped asking me about whether I’m ready (maybe it’s because they all read my blog post regarding this question). This has been replaced with “are you excited?” This is better on some level, but it brings up the same issue. My feelings about this second child are not singular, and while there is a lot of excitement, there’s also a lot of stress, and anxiety that I don’t want to think about in every day interactions.

Twice this week, in times when I was feeling overwhelmed and exhausted, two friends told me the same thing, and it made everything feel better. It was one simple phrase: “we’re thinking of you and Diana.” These words were accompanied by a knowing look of sympathy, support, and understanding. Soft eyes, that acknowledge all that we were going through, with a soft smile of optimism and support. These words felt like a hug. Like the embrace of good friend, in those two moments, I felt like I could let go.

There was something liberating about this phrase. In these words, there was no expectation for me to be anything. I didn’t have to worry about saying the socially acceptable thing. I could open up about my feeling in response, or not say anything. It was an invitation that I could accept, or walk away from.

There was something selfless about this phrase. This comment is selfish. It’s not an unloading of a person’s experience with pregnancy (which happens way too often). It’s a person trying to get information to vicariously live through your own experiences. Most of all, it’s not a phrase that asserts support in a way that that is reciprocal. When someone says that they are going to give you stuff for your kids, it’s nice, but then you have to thing about returning stuff, and maybe doing the same when they have a kid. This phrase is essentially a gift, that is given with no desire or expectation for anything at all in return.

There is something powerful about this phrase. When you say that you are thinking about another person, you are saying that you are worrying about them, that you are hoping for them, and that in that you will never be alone, because someone else is thinking of you. The knowledge that someone is thinking about you is comforting. It lets you know that you matter, that you mean something and that you are always with the people who love you.

It’s not easy to know what to say.  So just you care, by letting expected parents know that they are on your mind, and maybe offering to buy them a Strawberry Acai refresher from Starbucks (grande, easy ice).

Year 8: Week 7 - The Bridge

We all live in a state of profound isolation. 

No other human being can ever know what it ’s like to be you on the inside. And no amount of reaching out to others can ever make them feel exactly what you feel.

All media of communication are a by-product of our sad inability to communicate directly mind to mind. Sad, of course, because nearly all problems in human history stem from that inability. 

Each medium (the term comes from the Latin word meaning middle) serves as a bridge between minds.

- Scott McCloud, Understanding Comics

Our world is full of different mediums of self-expression, because every medium, including prose, poetry, visual arts, films, science, dance, spoken language, and music all are flawed. None of these mediums of communication completely and perfectly transfers ideas, feelings, and notions. Each one of these mediums are an attempt to address the “inability to communicate directly mind to mind,” the central source, as Scott McCloud writes, of nearly all of our problems.

Hans Christian Anderson wrote, “Where words fails, music speaks.” Because there are things that music can communicate from person to person, that words cannot. However, music is imperfect, and as a medium, it fails as well. Each different way of human expression succeeds where others fail and only by being fluent and literate in the plurality of different mediums can we begin to overcome that inability to communicate mind to mind. It is in this diversity of expression that we find the power make the communities we belong to more just, more equitable, and more inclusive.

At the center of a where music educations should be is the value of citizenship, and the primary tool of citizenship is voice. This isn’t a singular tool that is exercised and expressed through a single medium, like a speech in front of a crowd. At its most effective, and most powerful, voice is encapsulating of all of the mediums of human expression. To rely only on the written word is to struggle against this medium’s imperfections. To embrace the diversity of the different mediums of self-expression is to rise above these imperfections. This makes an individuals’ voice more authentically expressed, and more readily understood.

As important as the ability to authentically express an individual voice, as the prayer of Saint Frances meditates, it just as important “to be understood as to understand.” Only through foundational knowledge in the many facets of human expression can people complete the work of citizenship by pairing the ability to express one’s voice with the skill to understand others in whatever ways they express their thoughts and feelings.

So why am have I started out talking about voice and citizenship? Because this is where I start a as music teacher. Music education in an integral of the human condition. It is interwoven in almost every single culture in human history, and continues be one of the most important and most powerful forms of human expression. Some of the most powerful voices in human history found their voice through music, and some of the most influential members of our American society continue to change the world through music.

Music class  is about more than creating music, it’s about developing music as part of an authentic voice, a means of expression, a way to understand the world, and a way to change the world as a citizen. Music is an essential part of the bridge that connects us together

Parenthood: Week 225 – Guns

Ollie doesn’t know what a gun is.

This struck me when we were looking through a Transformers book. In this book, there was a picture of Megatron transforming into a gun, as he originally did in his first incarnations as a toy and on the original cartoon show.

I asked him what he thought it was, and he told me that it look like a water hose, and I left it at that.

There’s a lot that Ollie knows about. He knows most of the words of “Joseph’s Coat,” from Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat, he can name far more dinosaurs than I can, he’s well read (in the world of children’s books), and he has learned a variety of different jumps and landings recently in gymnastics class.

There’s a lot of stuff that Ollie doesn’t know about. There are things like professional sports, which Ollie isn’t exposed to because me and wife aren’t interested in watching sports. Besides education applications on the iPad, Ollie has had little to no exposure to video games, again because that’s not really part of our lives. The television and movies that he watches are designed for his age.

Guns, hunting, firearms are not a part of our families’ culture. My parents never owned any kind of firearm. I played video games where people I controlled shot others, but at some point, it just felt weird, and I lost interest in those games. I’ve only fired a firearm once. It was a low caliber rifle at one of Diana’s uncle’s house. I felt an immediate power, a rush of adrenaline, and a feeling of strength. However something about this didn’t feel right. It was too much power, for too little effort, and there was just too much of a chance, even in that very safe, controlled environment for something to go wrong.

I loved watching action movies as a kid with my dad. As much as I loved the James Bond films, something about the way Jackie Chan disarmed people he fought and chose to fight hand to hand, seemed cooler than just shooting someone. I loved comics growing up and my favorite superhero, Batman, hated guns.

This is my lived experience that I bring with me when I’ve dealt with the issue of guns with my son. At some point, I will need to educate him about guns in American culture and the history of firearms in world history. Even with the recent tragedy in Las Vegas, the moment doesn’t seem right. I’m not ready to talk to him about guns, and he doesn’t need to know about them right now.

I’ve seen kids younger than Ollie running around playground, making gun shape hand signs and shooting at each other. Thankfully whenever Ollie encounters this, he just doesn’t get it and doesn’t care to play that game.  A couple months ago, I saw kid who must have been younger than Ollie looking over his mother’s shoulder as she was paying a parking meter. As I walked by, he pointed the gun gesture he made with his hand and play shot at me with sound effects, and the mom did nothing. I see older kids running around with Nerf guns, shooting at each other, and I get it as someone who had Nerf guns as a kid (who turned out just fine), and I feel sad.

Ollie’s been really into bad guys and good guy as he processes the concept of good and bad. All he gets is that bad guys aren’t very nice and aren’t good at sharing. Yes, he has Transformers, but I’ve only let him delve into the Rescue Bot toys and cartoon, which has no bad guys, no guns, and is all about teamwork and community building.

With the coming of our second child and Ollie asks about reproduction, I tell him the right anatomical terms. He’s knows the word "vagina," "penis," and other terms.  However when we listen to Hamilton and he hears a gunshot and he thinks it’s a firework, I don’t correct him. I just don’t need him to know about guns right now. Kid’s should not have any illusions about the human body, but about guns, I'm okay with that.

I don’t talk to Ollie about guns because the history and issue surrounding guns are complicated and too difficult for his mind to understand right now. It’s the same reason Ollie has no idea who the 45th President is (though, he is well aware of Pres. Obama).  If I were to tell Ollie anything about guns now, it would be to simply say that they are dangerous, only policemen should have them, and to never touch one. 

Am I sheltering Ollie? Yes. That’s okay. It’s our job as parents to unveil the world to our children, carefully, and deliberately. In this work, we have to keep things away from them. And yes, at a certain point, you can’t keep certain things away from your children.  But I’m not there yet with my son.

While my intellect is looking forward to the challenge of explaining the complexity of guns in our society to my son, my heart is sad thinking about the horrors that I will knowingly have to expose to my son in this conversation.

Maybe when my son is of age to have these conversations about guns, there will be a happy ending. The tragedies will be a thing of the past. More than ever, I hope for this to be true. There’s precious little that I enjoy in my life, that I consider as being fundamentally American, that I would not sacrifice for a happy ending to our never-ending national story about gun violence. 

Year 8: Week 6 - A Different Kind Of Year

I’ve known that this school year was going to be different for a while now.

Every year has its unique factors, and when I think about the last eight years I’ve been at this school, there’s never been a school year where there hasn’t been something that happened in my life personally or something about the school year (e.g. new principal) that has made the school year unique.

My life outside of school can’t really be separated from my work in school in many ways. Yes, in some ways, I compartmentalize, but when life events come up, you need to deal with them and they affect the school year.

I have up ahead of me my paternity leave. This means that I will be away from my students for a period of time. It means the limited time that I have with them during school year will be even shorter. The experiences that frame our work between us will be fewer and in some ways, I may not feel as connected to my students this year as I have in years past.

I know this to be true because this happened the year I took my leave when my first son Ollie was born.

My kids were fine that year. I had a great long-term sub and my students had great performances and advanced their musical skills in meaningful ways. However, that year felt different. I don’t know if my kids felt it, but I did. I felt connected to them, but not fully and because I was only on the journey of the school year with them for part of the year, we didn’t bond like I did with other classes. We made progress and grew to know each other, but we didn’t quite make it to that place where I usually get at the end of the school year.

I wasn’t 100% there with, and for my kids that year.

This is okay. It’s not something to be ashamed of, or to mourn. It’s just the reality of the situation. This isn’t an easy thing to accept, and I didn’t quite expect it with my first leave but now I’m coming to accept this with my upcoming leave. I’m not looking forward to this feeling of being disconnected with the students, but I know it’s okay. I also know that I will be a better teacher in the long run, if I take the time to care for my family, and in turn care for myself.

My kids at home are more important than my “kids” at school. That’s the way it should be. However, sometimes this prioritization doesn’t feel great.

It’s going to be a unique year. It always is and my kids at school will be fine without me. I’ll miss that time I’m not with them, and be grateful, as I always am, for the time I do have them.

Parenthood: Week 224 – Ready For Number 2?

"Are you ready for number two?"

I don’t really know how to answer this. And yes, I realize that this is mainly due to the fact that I can’t let informal pleasantries be just that, and not analyze the messaging, unintended bias and socialization of how we talk about parents. It’s like the question, “how are you?” Most people who ask this question, don’t actually want to know, and that’s not because people are inherently bad. It’s just that a question, which is meant to be inconsequential greeting doubles as a meaningful expression of care, and it’s not always clear which is which.

It’s a similar thing when people ask if I’m ready for the second baby. Close friends ask because they are eager to lend a sympathetic ear, offer supplies, and provide answers to questions. These people realize that this is not a question with a fast answer as it brings up thoughts, worries and concerns, which I am working very hard not to focus on at certain times of the day, like I'm at work.

This is why it’s difficult to deal with the question about how I feel about number two. Most people probably just want to hear that I’m excited and that everything is going to be great. Then in response, in a social hazing ritual people like to tell me (at the same time), how whatever age gap your kids are going to have is perfect, and that two kids is really hard to handle. This is people being nice, and interested, but they unintentionally bring out a lot of the stress and concerns about having two kids, more than the joy.

I am an optimist by choice, and by practice. That doesn’t mean that I don’t have a lot of stress surrounding preparing for this baby, and it doesn’t mean that I’m looking forward to every facet of being a father to an infant. Look, I know it’s going to be amazing, and that we’ll get through the late nights and the lack of sleep. In the end, I know, even more than with my first kid, that we can handle this. All of this knowledge, doesn’t make the upcoming challenges, easier, it just means that it’s coming, it’s going to be rough, and yes, there’s a light at the end of the tunnel, but this knowledge doesn’t make the tunnel disappear.

 So . . . Woo-hoo.

One of the lessons of parenthood is that the journey is not always where you find the most meaning, and just because life feels like a destination at times, doesn’t mean you are doing it wrong. If you always dig for meaning through every step, you are going to be disappointed. I’m through looking for something of greater meaning in the next couple weeks. I just need to get stuff done, so I’m ready for my new little one.

So am I ready for number two? Logistically, no. I have sub-plans to write, and many meetings at work. The new nursery is not set up, there are no newborn diapers in the house, and we haven’t packed a hospital bag. There’s probably other stuff we need to do that I’m not even thinking about right now. I’m worried that I’ll won't get all the stuff, I feel I need to get done before the baby comes. The reality is that I probably won’t, and I'll have to live with that reality.

Mentally and spiritually? Well, here’s the thing. I don’t feel I was every ready for Ollie before he came. In some ways, I still don’t feel like I’m ready. Being “ready,” isn’t a great way to think about parenthood. You can’t fully be ready. It’s not like a bag that you pack for a vacation. Becoming a parent is a fundamental change in your perspective, your priorities, and your life. This "becoming" is a transformative process that you either accept and flourish, or fight against and fail. Yes, there is a level of readiness with pragmatic things, but when it comes down to you, the person that you are, and the parent that you will become, it’s not a question of being ready, it’s a choice.

The question is: have you accepted your choice to become a parent, to be for another, to love beyond comprehension, to give for the rest of your life unconditionally, and take on the greatest responsibility of humankind?

Yes. I’m embraced my choice to do this with Ollie, and I choose with to do this again for another living soul, with great thought, humility, gratitude, and love.