Parenthood: Week 416 – Preparing For The Racism In My Asian-American Children's Lives

It’s impossible to fully understand what it means to a parent before you have a child. You can read books and talk to other parents, but there is too much to know, too many experiences to articulate, and too many unknowns. No two children are the same, and even within the same family, parents are different in raising each child.  

You can tell someone how hard it is to watch your child get their first vaccination shot and tell them how hard it is to be up at 2 am trying to rock your baby to sleep. However, none of those things you can prepare for, even if you have the knowledge going in they are going to happen. Parenting is not something you can understand until you do it. It’s like skiing. You can read all books you can find on what it’s like to ski, but unless you are going down that mountain and feeling the wind in your face and how your body controls the fall down that mountain, you have an idea of what it feels like to ski. And until you have that child deep in your heart, you will know what it truly feels like to be a parent.  

I thought before I had kids that I did the good work of setting expectations. I thought through what it would be like if a child of mine were straight if they had special needs, married someone outside of his race, or were gender non-conforming. This is one reason when it became clear that Ethan had a disability, I really wasn’t fazed. There were feelings to work out, but I had thought this through.  

I never thought for a second that my children would be more in danger of Asian-American hate crimes than before they were born.  

I’m worried. It’s only time before someone says something to one of my sons that makes them feel bad about being Asian-American. My two older sons go to a wonderful school that honors their racial identity, but even they can’t prevent all racist comments and micro-aggressions. I’m confident they will do the right thing if something happens, and that is meaningful.  

I’ve been lucky. I haven’t directly been the victim of Asian-American hate speech or an Asian-American hate crime. I have wondered when people have been rude to me in public in the past year if it’s because I’m Asian, but I have no instances when I know that people treated me differently because of my racial identity.  As each day passes, I feel incidences of Asian-American hate more profoundly.

I’ve talked to my wife about what we do if we were in a situation if something racist happened to our family in public. The last time we talked about this was before a trip to Wisconsin. It’s a horrible conversation to have, but it’s essential, and sooner than later, my oldest needs to be part of this discussion. Our general plan is to focus on our safety. I wish I could say that standing up against the hate was part of the plan, but with my children, one who is a one-year-old, I’m not taking any chances.  

I’ve probably been more lenient with my children these past couple of weeks, but that’s okay. Extra hugs and letting some things going isn’t going to cause permanent damage. I know things will get better, but it’s going to take time. A bone may break in a second and can take months to heal.  

There is something very broken in how far too many people view Asian-Americans as sub-human is that is not going to heal quickly and will not ever be healed completely in our country.  It’s hard to be hopeful when racists are killing my people, and we are worried about our own safety and the safety of those they love.  

DeRay Robinson, a civil rights advocate, said of hope:

“The world can be a better place, but we have to make it happen. That hope isn’t magic; Hope is work. When I think about the fuel for most of [my work], for me, it’s deeply rooted in the understanding that this isn’t the only way that the world can be. That God didn’t make earth, man, and white supremacy. That people made this stuff up, [and] because people made it up, we can do something different.”  

I feel too tired to do the work to hope right now, but I’ll get there. In the future, with my children at my side, I’ll see you on the other side.

Year 11 – Week 28: Taking My Students To Dollywood

I knew Dolly had a lot to teach my students, but I had no idea how much I would learn from her. 

My curriculum this year has been blown up. Because of COVID-19 mitigation practices, my students can't sing, they can't play wind instruments, and they can't do dancing. This made me sad. I felt like this was a loss that I had to mourn for a while there last summer, but I moved this past this. More than anything, when we started school this fall, I was happy glad that even with all of the changes our school had to make, we still were able to provide time for music class.  

I've been working on parts of the curriculum that I could modify and create a new curriculum. It's been a challenge, but it's always gratifying.  

There is no pressure to prepare for concerts and performances since they were all canceled, so I feel more freedom to explore and try things that may not pan out. I'm able to give students the time they want to work on projects and allow them to have a more significant part in the pacing of our work together. 

After mid-winter break, I decided to do a biography unit with my students. I needed material, and my 4th and 5th graders love read-aloud, so I got a bunch of musician biographies and spent some time reading. After reading and thinking, I decided to read my student a Who Is Dolly Parton by True Kelley. 

Why? I had gotten some negative reactions throughout this school year when I played country music for them, so I wanted to do some work to help them better understand country music. I also wanted to find an artist who used their position and wealth for good, and I wanted to tell the story of someone who had dimensions and layers that my students could relate to. Dolly Parton felt like the perfect choice. Her music tells amazing stories, the stories of her life are entertaining and inspiring, and she has so much work inside and outside of country music to help other people. 

I was ready to interject songs when I read about Dolly's life, but I didn't expect the wonderful conversations that came from students' reactions. We talked about how families are different as students were shocked to hear that she had eleven brothers and sisters. Students explored how schools are different when they learned she to a school with 15 students for grades K-8. I helped my students understand the sexism she experienced that shocked them when they heard about how one of her managers didn't want her to get married because he felt this would make her lose fans, why people were critical of her weight, and about the meaning of the song "9 to 5." 

An important topic that we kept talking about is what it meant for Dolly to grow up poor and what she did in her life to use her wealth to help other people. I told my students that one of the hardest topics for adults to talk about is money. Even though everyone thinks about it, the differences in the economic situations that people have are important to consider in how we treat people and talk about our lives.  

The story that was the most fun to tell and the students enjoyed the most was the story of "I Will Always Love You." My students were appalled at Porter Wagoner's treatment of Dolly and were both surprised and impressed with how Dolly took the higher ground and did right by him, even though he mistreated her. I wasn't sure how my students would react to "I Will Always Love You." With the story in mind and admiration for Dolly, they listened attentively, and afterward, they reflected how it was a really good song.

Some said it was sad, others said it was happy, and then I explained how both of these opinions were right. I talked about how you can be happy that you are on vacation and sad that it will end and that the most important moments of your life are a mix of emotions.  

There is so much to learn from Dolly, and I am so glad that we took the time to really tackle many important issues that her life story brought to my student's attention. One of the most important lessons I learned from Dolly is it sometimes it's hard to believe in yourself, and that's the reason it's such a powerful and transformative thing to do.

Parenthood: Week 415 - When We Hold Each Other

As I finished sweeping the floor, I felt a presence and looked up to see oldest son Ollie sitting on the stairs. I was surprised to see him. It was about an hour after my wife had to put him to bed, and usually, Ollie fell asleep without much aid or drama. Like most seven-year-olds, bedtime wasn't that dramatic. It was his three-year-old brother that demanded another story or for me to stay in his room with him, not Ollie. I looked up at his tired eyes, and he told me softly, "I'm having trouble going to sleep." I told him to go to his bed, and I'd be there in a minute to help him go to sleep.  

I carefully got into bed with Ollie, and I felt him rest his head on my chest as my arm encircled his body. I lay there in the dark. I thought about asking Ollie if he felt okay or if he had a nightmare, but then I remembered how my mom taught me how to rock a baby to sleep. She told me when Ollie was a baby how to move the baby to calm them down and to feel that moment when the body relaxes into your arms, and that when the baby is older, to put the baby down right before this moment. This moment had passed, and Ollie's body felt warm and calm.  

As his feet brushed up against my shins, I remembered how when I could cradle the entire length of his body with my forearm. When he was a toddler, and I would put him to bed, his feet would be at my waist with his arms would rest on my chest, too short to reach around my body. Now his arm reached all the around to the side of my torso.  

There was a time when he told me that he was having trouble sleeping by crying. Sometimes he would be hungry or need a hug. It was a guessing game to figure out what he needed when he would wake up in the middle of the night. And as we got better at this game, he got better at telling us what he needed. 

Ollie as a baby, sometimes needed to rock to sleep for a long time. After carefully swaddling him up, I would wedge a pacifier between his mouth and my chest as I walked around his room. Patting his butt to the rhythm of "Jingle Bells," I paced around the room. Sometimes he would calm enough for me to sit on the rocking chair to rock him to sleep. Other nights, he would cry as soon as I sat down, so I would have to get up and keep pacing.  

Sometimes after a long time, Diana would come in and take a turn, helping put Ollie to sleep. Other times, he would calm, and as my mom described, his body would become heavy in my arms, and I would gently put him in his crib. Tired, but with a feeling of accomplishment, I left his room, which felt like a world in itself and entered back into a completely different world. When I was rocking Ollie to sleep, there was nothing else on my mind, and I had a single purpose. Upon leaving his room, I had to face the rest of my responsibilities, fears, and obligations.  

Ollie didn't need me tonight to rock him or talk to him. He just wanted me there to cuddle with him to help him go to sleep. There was a time years ago when just holding him wasn't enough to help him go to sleep, and there will be times in the future when my embrace will not be enough to quiet the thoughts in his head so he can rest.  

Ollie will have times in the future when he will be afraid and confused. He will feel fear as I did this past week and not know what to do. These thoughts will rob him of his peaceful rest, and he will find the darkness of night unnerving and cold, and the sleep will not come. However, tonight was not one of those nights.  

Because tonight, I was enough.  

"When we hold each other, in the darkness, it doesn't make the darkness go away. The bad things are still out there. The nightmares still walking. When we hold each other we feel not safe, but better. "It's all right" we whisper, "I'm here, I love you." and we lie: "I'll never leave you." For just a moment or two the darkness doesn't seem so bad." 

- Neil Gaiman, Neil Gaiman's Midnight Days

Year 11 – Week 27: Gratitude In The Face Of Asian-American Hate Crimes

This is a part of an email I sent to my administration team at my school.

Dear administration team,

It’s really difficult to know the right to do in the face of fear, hate, and violence. Even when the path is clear, it is difficult to take the correct actions, find the rights words, and have hard conversations.
I wanted to thank you all for doing the right thing, the hard work this week, in the face of continued violence against Asian and Asian-American people in our country and our community. 

The letter you send out felt comforting, resolute, and reaffirming. Tour words this morning during announcements were what I needed. I found myself sitting in the back of one of the 6th-grade classrooms, clutches my knees up against my chest like a 7-year-old as you talked. I think it was because the way you spoke and the words you chose allowed me at that moment not to have to be a teacher and just feel comforted by another human being who cared. 

One of the most important things that you did for me is what you didn’t do. I did not get one direct email or request for me as an Asian-American in the community to do anything. Last spring, as people in the Black community were traumatized by horrific murders of Black men and women by police officers, some Black people in independent schools were asked to do more when they could not.

I’ve heard stories from Black faculty and staff, who were deep in processing, and feeling great fear and trauma themselves, not ready to talk about these tragedies being asked to teach, write letters, and advise administrators and faculty. I’ve understood on an intellectual level why this was so difficult, and it wasn’t until this week I understood this on an emotional. I am not ready to talk about hate crimes against Asian and Asian-American people with most people, and I am certainly not prepared to speak to students about this. If I had felt pressure to do so earlier this week, I might have had a breakdown.

I’m not sure what I would have done, but I know for a fact I would be in a much worse place than I am right now.

Parker is a place that has nurtured my pride in my Asian-American identity. In Parker employee of color meetings, I found community among other people of color and came to understand the fact that I was too a person of color. Parker’s support for all of the wonderful DEI professional development has helped me be a better educator, and it has helped me see the value of my Asian heritage. Seeing the value that my Asian-American identity brings to Parker, I have learned to understand better how it’s an essential and beautiful part of who I am.

I I wanted to share and bring this out this week to the Parker community in a moment when my expression of Asian-American pride could have an impact on my students. This week just didn’t’ feel like the right time for me to do this, but I know there will be moments in the future. When it feels right for me, it’ll be right for my students.

Last night I had a Zoom meeting with a new Parker parent. She is a new Parker parent whose daughter Katie will be in JK next year. She talked about immigrating to America and wanting to know more about what DEI looked at Parker and how this community could support Katie. She was worried since she didn’t know what school was like in America. I told her about my mom worrying about the same thing when she immigrated from Taiwan. With a smile, I related some of my mom’s struggles with American education and told her how Parker would honor Katie’s heritage and support her. It was a wonderful conversation, and I needed that opportunity this week to be able to share my experience as an Asian-American in my work and have a positive impact.

Richard, one of my closest friends at Parker, asked me how I was doing. I was honest and told that it’s been a tough week and almost took a personal day this week. And I’m glad I didn’t. Being at Parker this week and working is what I needed. I know I’m safe here, I know that I’m protected, and I know I’m valued.

Being at Parker and feeling the support and love has been wonderful, and doing work with my students has reminded me of my value and purpose.

Thank you for all that you’ve done this week for our Asian and Asian-American community members and all that you've done for me.

-Kings

Parenthood: Week 414 – Three Stages Of Tantrums

Lucas is starting to have mini-tantrums which are super cute. In the past, when I’ve taken away an object from him that he shouldn’t have, like an iPhone or a small toy, he didn’t seem to care. ­Now when I do this, he gives out a little squeal and reaches for it. Lucas calms down pretty quickly after I hug him or offer him a different toy in exchange.

This also happens when I have to relocate him. In the past, if he were crawling towards an electrical outlet, I would pick him up and turn him around, and he would continue moving forward away from the outlet.

Now, a little toddler, when I move him away from the stairs and close the baby gate so he can’t climb up them, his little arms and legs flail about in protest. A little scream sometimes accompanies this as he paws at the baby gate.

All of this is a positive sign of his development, and it’s fun to see how he is making stronger connections to the world around him and expressing to me his opinion and desires.

Ethan is a three-year-old, and his tantrums, like many children his age, can be pretty epic. This morning he was upset because he wanted me to hug him in my bed, but I was already downstairs about to leave for work, so the hug that he would be on the couch.

There was screaming, tears, and him rejecting my hugs when I offered, simply because the location of the hug was not where he had expected his morning hug to happen. While I understand that not getting what you want exactly how you want can be upsetting, you can’t always get what you want.

I went on with getting ready for work, and he eventually calmed down. He came up to me sheepishly in the kitchen.

“Do you want a hug?”

“Yes…”

“Are you done screaming?” “…yes…”

“come here, special one.”  

Ollie has his moments too, but he’s grown a lot. He gets frustrated, and he feels things deeply. The ability to get those feelings into words through the heat of emotion is a muscle that needs exercise. The words are coming quicker when the tantrums come, and his ability to calm himself is growing. It’s interesting seeing Ollie getting on the other side of having tantrums while my younger sons are working through them as part of how they interact with the world. 

At all three of these stages, dealing with tantrums is challenging, but there are rewarding moments. On the other side of tantrums, there are times for affirmations of love and moments of empowerment when my children realize that they can move through these difficult emotions. Not by ignoring them, but feeling through them and finding the strength to calm and to focus.

Year 11 – Week 26: One Year Later

One year ago, it was the last day of in-person school for the 2019-2020 school year for many schools across America. The unimaginable happened as society shut down and life changed for everyone.  

I've been thinking all week about the most meaningful memories of what I learned from the past year as a teacher. It's been difficult to process because we aren't done with the crisis and the trauma. To truly move on and process an experience, there has to be an ending.  

While we are making great process, we're not there yet. 

There have wonderful moments of teaching in the past year, both remotely and in-person, with COVID-19 mitigations. I have learned to embrace the wonder and adventure of feeling like I'm a first-year teacher, and I've learned over time to forgive myself for not being able to be the teacher that I want to be this school year.  

Things that were new and difficult now feel normal Wearing a mask for five hours doesn't phase me anymore. Managing students over Zoom feels like a normal thing to do.  

Walking through a school full of people with masks used to feel weird, now I'm just grateful for the all the human interaction I enjoy.  

­My students have struggled.  There are moments of resilience, but it's evident that this past year has been very difficult for young people. The idea that young people are somehow tougher than adults is absurd. I am so sad for what my students are going through, what they are missing, and how they will have to spend the rest of their lives affected by this pandemic. I'm hopeful they will learn from older generations' mistakes and lead with compassion, kindness, and equity.  

I've watch administrators absorb the anxiety of parents, students, and teachers. I've struggled along with them trying to schedule work and solve problems none of us foresaw. I've also seen administrators make mistakes, run out of patience, and feel frustrated and lost.  

After all, they are human. This year more than ever, they don't have all of the answers, and teachers and administrators need each other to get through school during a pandemic. 

There were dark moments.  There were times when it seemed like my work was pointless, and there were times when I felt lost, not knowing what my next step forward was. More than any other time in my professional career, I have felt frustrated and tired. Oh, so tired.  

After a year of teaching during this pandemic, I have not given on being a teacher. It has a blessing that has given me purpose and meaning.  

I don't love everything about teaching for the past year, but I still love my job. Among all of the chaos, trauma, and sadness, it has been my job to teach students about the beauty and wonder of music to better understand themselves and the world around them. 

I am so grateful that I have had and continue to have the opportunity to do this work for students, myself, and my country.

Parenthood: Week 413 – How I Need What My Children Ask Of Me

And then you realize that most of the things your children do that annoy you are because they love you. 

Ethan likes to get up early in the morning when I'm getting ready for work. I set his ready-to-wake clock for 6:45, so I get up around 5:20 to have time to prepare for the morning. Most mornings, I end up leaving the house closer to 7:00. Yes, it isn't very pleasant when he gets up early because he wants my attention when I'm rushing to get out the door, and he needs to learn to give me space. However, he's three-years-old, and like most children his age, he is focused more on his own needs. Ethan feels his needs in the morning are to get a hug, for me to sit with him, and for me to give him attention.  

Usually, on the weekends, Ollie and I play video games after lunch. I often have to clean-up after lunch, so I'll tell Ollie that we will play at a specific time, like 1:45. This helps Ollie understand that we will play video games and that he doesn't have to ask me repeatedly when we are playing.  

However, this doesn't change his focus.  

As I do dishes, Ollie will just stand near me, looking at me silently, waiting for the time to pass. I'll tell him to read a book or something, and he inevitably comes back around five minutes later and just stands there looking at me. Ollie just wants to play with me.  

Yes, it is annoying when I'm trying to cook dinner, and Lucas crawls into the kitchen and starts taking everything out of the lower cabinets. This makes our small galley kitchen even harder to navigate, but he just likes being near me, and he is so happy when he drops a pot or lid and makes a huge sound, and I look over at him.  

Modern life makes it challenging to spend as much time as I would like with my children. Even with a slower pace, children need to learn to share their parents with others and the world, but sometimes I wonder if children have to learn that lesson too early. My frustration with my children is not always based on their actions, and they don't understand how external stresses affect our interactions. Even I don't understand this sometimes.  

We find the moments to give hugs, and we find moments to give focused attention. Sometimes this means that dinner is less homemade and that laundry remains unfolded. There is a balance between helping my children understand that there are times when I can't give them attention and that I do love that they want to spend time with me. I just haven't figured out how to reach this balance or if I've ever hit it. 

When there is never enough time, what do we do? Do we make compromises that our children do not understand, or ask our children to compromise more? Do we ask more out of our children or more out of ourselves?  Maybe it's all of these things. 

And maybe my children's desire to spend more time with me is a reminder of how much I need time with my children for my soul, and spirit.

Year 11 – Week 25: The Crisis in Our Schools

What is going on in American schools is what has always been going on.  

We have schools that are open with in-person teaching that is going pretty well. Some schools are open in-person that's are not doing well, and some schools continue only to be remote.  

Some school administrators and school officials are great. They make teachers feel safe and supported, while educational leaders are doing a great disservice to teachers and making them feel unsafe and exploited.  

There are teacher union chapters supporting cooperative partners and helping make teachers safe while serving the students' needs. There are teacher union locals that are being unreasonable obstructionists. Then there are school boards. Like other local officials, some school board members are in their positions to serve the students and the community, and others are more in for the power.  

None of this should be a surprise. The differences in schools offering in-person learning and only remote learning are as stark as the educational difference between school pre-pandemic. Teachers' experience in America varies so widely from a teacher who has to work multiple jobs to pay rent for an apartment in the city they work to teachers who live comfortably on their salary. Teachers' unions in America have done far better than bad. The structure of union leadership from the national down to the local pretty much ensures variation in the quality of organizing and leadership. The school boards are showing their effectiveness, and it's becoming revealing the nature of the members who claim to serve in this position.  

For so many people, decisions around school didn't seem to have dire, life-altering consequences before the pandemic. "So, there are bad administrators. Okay, that sucks. I'm going to go back to work," has become "there are bad administrators, children are doing remote learning, and my employees' productivity has dropped because they have to support their children's learning." 

Less involved parents could ignore a bad school board making racist choices about curriculum, but they can't ignore the fact that an ineffective school board keeps their child from in-person learning. Teachers, previously fine to let others do the heavy lifting of union leadership, are realizing that maybe if they showed up to meetings and voted more carefully in previous years, they would be in a better situation.  

The inequity in schools in America has always had dire, life-altering consequences far before the pandemic. This will continue if we forget the issues that have led to this unprecedented educational crisis in America.  

While many people in education have done courageous, remarkable, and incredible work for students in America during this pandemic, we as a society, a county, and citizens have failed the children of America.

This crisis is our past and our present, but it doesn't have to be our future. If we remember as forward, hold people accountable for their disservice, and elevate those who never gave up fighting for children, we can build back better.

Parenthood: Week 412 – Back To The Grocery Store

The grocery store is a magical place for Lucas.

He sits in the front of the cart and gazes silently at the people, the food, and the lights. There is a feeling of awe as I push him around and explain to him what is going on. Sometimes I push my forehead into his, and he snaps out of it and giggles at me, and then he returns to exploring this new world.

I used to take my children to the grocery store all of the time. This is one of the things I used to do with my mom. When going to the grocery store with my mom, she made it seem like a wonderland when I was a child. Here is this place filled with food, but more than that, possibilities, limited only by one's imagination. To this day, I still love going to the grocery store with my mom and watching her shop.

Shortly before we went into lockdown, I even took all three of my children to the grocery store and had a great time.

When the pandemic hit, grocery shopping was no longer fun and wasn't safe for me to take my children along. The stores had shortages, and some had lines to enter. Even when stores started allowing children, I didn't want to take them into a place filled with fear and anxiety.

Things have been more relaxed in the grocery lately, especially if I go during off-peak times. So, I've taken Ollie to the store, and it's gone pretty well. The freedom of letting my children explore the aisles is no longer there, so I'm unsure of taking more than one child at a time.

I've taken Lucas to the grocery store with me in the past two weeks, and it's incredible to watch. It's bittersweet. Lucas has lived the majority of his life during this pandemic.

He had interacted with fewer people at this point in this life than Ollie or Ethan did when they were his age. Even though we've filled Lucas's life with love and enrichment, he lives in a smaller world than he would if the pandemic was not part of our reality.

It must be strange for him to see so many people in the store wearing masks. Lucas has a way of responding to facial expressions so well, and I wonder if seeing all those half-faces confused him. Regardless he gazed at people like babies today, unencumbered by social norms. He smiled at a couple of people and tried to wave at the cashier.

In the grocery cart, Lucas kept trying to turn around and see where we were going, unsatisfied with his view of just me. It was cute to see him trying to take everything in, looking side to side, up and down as we moved through the store.

We've had to sacrifice so much during this pandemic, and it's a beautiful feeling to have something back, taking my son to the grocery store. Lucas doesn't miss this, but I do, and I will.