Wednesday, November 1, 2017
Monday, October 30, 2017
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.
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.
Friday, October 27, 2017
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!”
“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!”
Wednesday, October 25, 2017
Monday, October 23, 2017
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
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
Friday, October 20, 2017
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.
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.
Monday, October 16, 2017
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).
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).
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