This evening, I attended a showcase of the 2015 Dwight/Edgewood Project, "a joint community outreach program of Yale Repertory Theater and Yale School of Drama" in which middle schoolers participate in a four-week after-school playwriting program. I went to support one of my friends from my summer fellowship who was part of the project and enjoyed seeing performances of young playwright's scripts.
Afterwards, my friend (another fellow who attended the performance) and I walked over to the New Haven Green, where Kurt Elling was performing with the New Haven Symphony Orchestra. It was raining, and my shoes and jacket were soaked. I normally hate being out in the rain, but something about the jazz vocal performance made the weather seem rather romantic. As the performance concluded, I overheard a lady say she couldn't wait to hop into a hot shower as soon as she got home.
As I made my way back to where I'd parked my car, I passed by the corner of First and Summerfield, where my church is located. A ring of people stood under the porch, and I recognized familiar faces, immediately realizing that this must be a prayer meeting for the recent shootings in South Carolina. I joined the circle, grateful for this chance encounter and an opportunity to pray with my spiritual community. The meeting ended with us holding hands and singing "We shall overcome."
My body was wet, but the chill did not seep into my bones. Eventually, I reached my car and made it back home, kicking off my shoes and heading straight into the shower. A cup of hot chocolate followed, and then, I sat down to do some blogging...
Saturday, June 20, 2015
From One Hill to Another
I spent the early part of Friday morning reading on a park bench in Trowbridge Square, in a neighborhood of New Haven known as "The Hill." Right across the street, my car was getting a check-up at SKF Auto. And a few blocks over was the Boys&Girls Club, where I work this summer.
In my hands was a book about the history of religious learning at Yale. Flying onto my face and hands were little green insects--harmless but annoying. Surrounding the square was a residential neighborhood, and every now and then people crossed through the square.
A couple occupied a nearby bench, talking and squabbling as couples do. As they left, four men speaking Spanish entered the square, carrying plastic bags filled with recyclables. They smiled at me and plugged in their cell phones to an outlet in a lamppost, blasting music into the morning air. As they eventually got up and left, three young women came and occupied another bench, and I overheard one of them talk about her child recently getting adopted by a foster family. A man walked across the square several times, checking on his laundry in the corner laundromat.
I drive through the various neighborhoods of New Haven from time to time, always with my car doors locked, out of habit. I learned to do this as an undergraduate at USC in downtown Los Angeles, and as a woman in general. Sitting in Trowbridge Square, however, I was completely out in the open--although I did have pepper spray in my backpack. I have to admit that it took me a little while before I became more comfortable in my surroundings. Gradually, I realized that I was a guest in a neighborhood. Perhaps some of the kids at the Boys&Girls Club lived here. There was nothing to be nervous about. This was an opportunity to listen and observe.
According to Wikipedia,
The Hill neighborhood contains the majority of buildings of Yale-New Haven Hospital and Yale Medical School. The expansion of this Medical campus area is a continual source of tension with the bordering residential areas. The residential areas of the Hill are mostly working-class and minority neighborhoods; crime and poverty remain problems, though to a far lesser degree.
The Hill is also home to New Haven's railroad station, Union Station, and some light-industrial businesses such as the Lupi-Legna Bakery. Public schools and libraries include; Roberto Clemente Leadership Academy and the Wilson Library.
Our church has been encouraging us to get to know New Haven's neighborhoods by spending time in each one. Each Sunday, we spend time praying corporately for the peace of the city. I love that the Elm City Vineyard is committed to being both a prayerful and a participatory part of the community, and I'm sure that this has influenced my mindset for the good. On top of that, my summer fellowship is designed to introduce Yale students to the City. We've learned about its history, some of its neighborhoods, and the work that is going on in its various communities.
There is something special about being around people close to where they live. I realized this when I worked at a residential treatment campus for teens in Pennsylvania and when I worked in low-income housing in California. Those settings may not have been home for my clients, but it was where they lived. There is something to be said about observing people in residential settings--I rather enjoy it.
We call the Divinity School area "The Hill" as well, and it occurred to me that I'm spending my summer days going from one Hill to another. Sitting on that bench in Trowbridge Square, I thought about how I still have much to learn about what it means to be truly invested in one's city. I began to pray for the surrounding neighborhood, and to ask for more of an understanding of God's heart for the city of New haven.
James 2:14-26 Revised Standard Version (RSV)
Faith without Works Is Dead
14 What does it profit, my brethren, if a man says he has faith but has not works? Can his faith save him? 15 If a brother or sister is ill-clad and in lack of daily food, 16 and one of you says to them, “Go in peace, be warmed and filled,” without giving them the things needed for the body, what does it profit? 17 So faith by itself, if it has no works, is dead.
18 But some one will say, “You have faith and I have works.” Show me your faith apart from your works, and I by my works will show you my faith. 19 You believe that God is one; you do well. Even the demons believe—and shudder. 20 Do you want to be shown, you shallow man, that faith apart from works is barren? 21 Was not Abraham our father justified by works, when he offered his son Isaac upon the altar? 22 You see that faith was active along with his works, and faith was completed by works, 23 and the scripture was fulfilled which says, “Abraham believed God, and it was reckoned to him as righteousness”; and he was called the friend of God. 24 You see that a man is justified by works and not by faith alone. 25 And in the same way was not also Rahab the harlot justified by works when she received the messengers and sent them out another way? 26 For as the body apart from the spirit is dead, so faith apart from works is dead.
In my hands was a book about the history of religious learning at Yale. Flying onto my face and hands were little green insects--harmless but annoying. Surrounding the square was a residential neighborhood, and every now and then people crossed through the square.
A couple occupied a nearby bench, talking and squabbling as couples do. As they left, four men speaking Spanish entered the square, carrying plastic bags filled with recyclables. They smiled at me and plugged in their cell phones to an outlet in a lamppost, blasting music into the morning air. As they eventually got up and left, three young women came and occupied another bench, and I overheard one of them talk about her child recently getting adopted by a foster family. A man walked across the square several times, checking on his laundry in the corner laundromat.
I drive through the various neighborhoods of New Haven from time to time, always with my car doors locked, out of habit. I learned to do this as an undergraduate at USC in downtown Los Angeles, and as a woman in general. Sitting in Trowbridge Square, however, I was completely out in the open--although I did have pepper spray in my backpack. I have to admit that it took me a little while before I became more comfortable in my surroundings. Gradually, I realized that I was a guest in a neighborhood. Perhaps some of the kids at the Boys&Girls Club lived here. There was nothing to be nervous about. This was an opportunity to listen and observe.
According to Wikipedia,
The Hill neighborhood contains the majority of buildings of Yale-New Haven Hospital and Yale Medical School. The expansion of this Medical campus area is a continual source of tension with the bordering residential areas. The residential areas of the Hill are mostly working-class and minority neighborhoods; crime and poverty remain problems, though to a far lesser degree.
The Hill is also home to New Haven's railroad station, Union Station, and some light-industrial businesses such as the Lupi-Legna Bakery. Public schools and libraries include; Roberto Clemente Leadership Academy and the Wilson Library.
Our church has been encouraging us to get to know New Haven's neighborhoods by spending time in each one. Each Sunday, we spend time praying corporately for the peace of the city. I love that the Elm City Vineyard is committed to being both a prayerful and a participatory part of the community, and I'm sure that this has influenced my mindset for the good. On top of that, my summer fellowship is designed to introduce Yale students to the City. We've learned about its history, some of its neighborhoods, and the work that is going on in its various communities.
There is something special about being around people close to where they live. I realized this when I worked at a residential treatment campus for teens in Pennsylvania and when I worked in low-income housing in California. Those settings may not have been home for my clients, but it was where they lived. There is something to be said about observing people in residential settings--I rather enjoy it.
We call the Divinity School area "The Hill" as well, and it occurred to me that I'm spending my summer days going from one Hill to another. Sitting on that bench in Trowbridge Square, I thought about how I still have much to learn about what it means to be truly invested in one's city. I began to pray for the surrounding neighborhood, and to ask for more of an understanding of God's heart for the city of New haven.
James 2:14-26 Revised Standard Version (RSV)
Faith without Works Is Dead
14 What does it profit, my brethren, if a man says he has faith but has not works? Can his faith save him? 15 If a brother or sister is ill-clad and in lack of daily food, 16 and one of you says to them, “Go in peace, be warmed and filled,” without giving them the things needed for the body, what does it profit? 17 So faith by itself, if it has no works, is dead.
18 But some one will say, “You have faith and I have works.” Show me your faith apart from your works, and I by my works will show you my faith. 19 You believe that God is one; you do well. Even the demons believe—and shudder. 20 Do you want to be shown, you shallow man, that faith apart from works is barren? 21 Was not Abraham our father justified by works, when he offered his son Isaac upon the altar? 22 You see that faith was active along with his works, and faith was completed by works, 23 and the scripture was fulfilled which says, “Abraham believed God, and it was reckoned to him as righteousness”; and he was called the friend of God. 24 You see that a man is justified by works and not by faith alone. 25 And in the same way was not also Rahab the harlot justified by works when she received the messengers and sent them out another way? 26 For as the body apart from the spirit is dead, so faith apart from works is dead.
Tuesday, June 16, 2015
Solitary Adventures
Few things bring me greater pleasure than a solitary adventure.
Summer evenings in New Haven lend themselves to many fine walks--up East Rock, over to Edgerton Park, and along Mill River. Tonight, there was an after-rain mist, thick enough to make the houses along St. Ronan Street look like paintings. I felt as if I were walking through a Thomas Kinkade gallery come to life--or if I had jumped through chalk drawings like Mary Poppins and Jane and Michael.
The one thing thing that reminded me that I was not in a dream was the presence of pesky mosquitoes. That, and the wide smile on my face as I reveled in the quietness of my own company and the peace of an evening sunset. My facial muscles almost hurt from how hard I was smiling.
Work had been quite busy and productive. After work, there was a dinner put on by my Summer Fellowship to which all Presidential Fellows and their supervisors were invited. I got to chat more with my supervisor and to see other leaders in New Haven's non-profit community. What a cool opportunity to be a part of community-building in a city that I love.
Since 2009 I have not lived in one place for more than 2 years, but that only means that I have people and places that I keep in touch with and visit. Compared to some of my peers I have not traveled widely, but I have had the pleasure of living in places that I can truly call home. Perhaps I was meant to experience my 20s like this--moving somewhere by myself, building community, and--as I was reminded of tonight--taking long walks full of joy, imagination, and reflection.
Long drives alone suit me too. I still remember making a 7-hour drive from Womelsdorf, Pennsylvania to Akron, Ohio about 6 years ago, passing through green countryside that was on its way to autumn. When I lived in the Bay Area, I'd sometimes drive across the San Mateo Bridge at night, just for fun. And I'll never forget the time I drove from SoCal to NorCal, with my belongings in my car and the next step of my future seeming to extend just beyond the I-5 freeway.
Who knows how long I will call New Haven home. Being halfway through my degree brings me thoughts and questions of my future calling and career. I can see myself staying here for a while, continuing to involve myself in my church and staying somewhat attached to the Divinity School community. I appreciate the challenges and strengths of this small city, and my heart thinks often about the various neighborhoods of which it is comprised.
Yale can be a bubble, but it is not a bubble in which I am happy to remain. Even during the school year, my heart longed to go beyond its Ivy-covered boundaries. For while I am grateful to be at my Dream School, it is the City that houses it that makes this place home to me. New Haven, I loved you from the start, and I can only hope that my time here is beneficial for the both of us.
Summer evenings in New Haven lend themselves to many fine walks--up East Rock, over to Edgerton Park, and along Mill River. Tonight, there was an after-rain mist, thick enough to make the houses along St. Ronan Street look like paintings. I felt as if I were walking through a Thomas Kinkade gallery come to life--or if I had jumped through chalk drawings like Mary Poppins and Jane and Michael.
The one thing thing that reminded me that I was not in a dream was the presence of pesky mosquitoes. That, and the wide smile on my face as I reveled in the quietness of my own company and the peace of an evening sunset. My facial muscles almost hurt from how hard I was smiling.
Work had been quite busy and productive. After work, there was a dinner put on by my Summer Fellowship to which all Presidential Fellows and their supervisors were invited. I got to chat more with my supervisor and to see other leaders in New Haven's non-profit community. What a cool opportunity to be a part of community-building in a city that I love.
Since 2009 I have not lived in one place for more than 2 years, but that only means that I have people and places that I keep in touch with and visit. Compared to some of my peers I have not traveled widely, but I have had the pleasure of living in places that I can truly call home. Perhaps I was meant to experience my 20s like this--moving somewhere by myself, building community, and--as I was reminded of tonight--taking long walks full of joy, imagination, and reflection.
Long drives alone suit me too. I still remember making a 7-hour drive from Womelsdorf, Pennsylvania to Akron, Ohio about 6 years ago, passing through green countryside that was on its way to autumn. When I lived in the Bay Area, I'd sometimes drive across the San Mateo Bridge at night, just for fun. And I'll never forget the time I drove from SoCal to NorCal, with my belongings in my car and the next step of my future seeming to extend just beyond the I-5 freeway.
Who knows how long I will call New Haven home. Being halfway through my degree brings me thoughts and questions of my future calling and career. I can see myself staying here for a while, continuing to involve myself in my church and staying somewhat attached to the Divinity School community. I appreciate the challenges and strengths of this small city, and my heart thinks often about the various neighborhoods of which it is comprised.
Yale can be a bubble, but it is not a bubble in which I am happy to remain. Even during the school year, my heart longed to go beyond its Ivy-covered boundaries. For while I am grateful to be at my Dream School, it is the City that houses it that makes this place home to me. New Haven, I loved you from the start, and I can only hope that my time here is beneficial for the both of us.
Monday, June 15, 2015
An Introvert's Lament--After Seven Full Days of Fellowship and Fun
Another week
has gone by.
Into the wind
Did my energies fly.
Lots of sun,
Which is why
Today's rain
Gives me a sigh
Of relief.
Oh why
Does my schedule
Belie
The fact that
I'm an "I"?
has gone by.
Into the wind
Did my energies fly.
Lots of sun,
Which is why
Today's rain
Gives me a sigh
Of relief.
Oh why
Does my schedule
Belie
The fact that
I'm an "I"?
Monday, June 8, 2015
And here we go again!
I'm so glad I had last week to be a hermit (well, I had dinner with folks on Tuesday, Wednesday, and Friday and spent an entire Saturday with dear friends--but I at least had Monday and Thursday evening to myself!), because this week is looking busy: from Monday thru Thursday I have 2 appointments every evening, after work--and I'm sure something fun will come up on Friday evening by the time the week's over. Yay/Yikes!
That was a very long run-on sentence, which mirrors how introverts feel when they see a full schedule ahead :)
That was a very long run-on sentence, which mirrors how introverts feel when they see a full schedule ahead :)
Wednesday, June 3, 2015
The Blessing of Friendship
In order to function and thrive in Divinity School--well, in life, really--I've learned to be organized, proactive, and communicative. I've also chosen to be a woman of color who is not afraid to smile at strangers, listen to different opinions, and hold my own ground without getting angry. I've learned to speak up in class, even though that runs against many traditional Asian values; to not be bothered by innocent ignorance or micro-aggressions; and to engage with people and be outgoing, despite being an introvert.
Speaking with another woman of Chinese descent the other week, I said: "We don't just represent ourselves. We represent women and Chinese people every time we engage with others in a public setting. That requires both a pride in who we are and the humility to simply be human." And while I never like to perform, I do feel like I want to learn to be purposeful in the way I conduct myself, because every action of mine speaks just as loudly as words.
My close friends know that, in my "natural" state, I take a long time to warm up to people, need personal space, and sometimes just enjoy silence. They also know that when I'm not in school or work mode, I'm pretty indecisive, not always organized, and am easily overstimulated by a large group of people or too much information. They see me in my more private moments, when I'm just a person and not a student at YDS, and they embrace me for who I am. That is deeply humbling. When I get lost driving, they don't get frustrated. When I say the wrong thing, they take it in stride. And when I am not with them, they still stay in touch with me. Around them, I can truly be myself, and when it's not my best self, their love helps me want to be better. I've found a number of such friends at Yale, and we've become a close community.
I think often of my friends, even when I take time to be alone. I'm thinking of them tonight, and I know I'll see them soon. Until then, I continue to recharge my battery, knowing that the better care I give myself, the better the self I can share with others.
Speaking with another woman of Chinese descent the other week, I said: "We don't just represent ourselves. We represent women and Chinese people every time we engage with others in a public setting. That requires both a pride in who we are and the humility to simply be human." And while I never like to perform, I do feel like I want to learn to be purposeful in the way I conduct myself, because every action of mine speaks just as loudly as words.
My close friends know that, in my "natural" state, I take a long time to warm up to people, need personal space, and sometimes just enjoy silence. They also know that when I'm not in school or work mode, I'm pretty indecisive, not always organized, and am easily overstimulated by a large group of people or too much information. They see me in my more private moments, when I'm just a person and not a student at YDS, and they embrace me for who I am. That is deeply humbling. When I get lost driving, they don't get frustrated. When I say the wrong thing, they take it in stride. And when I am not with them, they still stay in touch with me. Around them, I can truly be myself, and when it's not my best self, their love helps me want to be better. I've found a number of such friends at Yale, and we've become a close community.
I think often of my friends, even when I take time to be alone. I'm thinking of them tonight, and I know I'll see them soon. Until then, I continue to recharge my battery, knowing that the better care I give myself, the better the self I can share with others.
Tuesday, June 2, 2015
On Being an Asian-American who Leaves Home to study Religion
When I go home
Or speak by phone
With friends whom I hold dear
I've moved away, but still feel near
To those who've stayed behind.
When I'm away
It's a brand new way
Of thinking of my life
I'm distanced from the struggle and strife
Of immigrant ways, I find.
Privilege--white, Ivy League
A degree with such prestige
Though, "Does it actually help career?"
--a thought that gives me fear.
Community--
Such rarity
It's time
To live my prime!
But consciously,
And naggingly,
My roots
These dreams shake loose.
Or speak by phone
With friends whom I hold dear
I've moved away, but still feel near
To those who've stayed behind.
When I'm away
It's a brand new way
Of thinking of my life
I'm distanced from the struggle and strife
Of immigrant ways, I find.
Privilege--white, Ivy League
A degree with such prestige
Though, "Does it actually help career?"
--a thought that gives me fear.
Community--
Such rarity
It's time
To live my prime!
But consciously,
And naggingly,
My roots
These dreams shake loose.
Monday, June 1, 2015
Rainy Day Reflection
I read words the way most people listen to music. They pass through me, often uncaught and not very clearly remembered. Music, on the other hand, invades my being and often overstimulates. Earlier, as I sat on my living room couch reading a book (Religion and Learning at Yale), with piano music playing in the background (Chopin's complete Nocturnes), my attention naturally went towards the sound of notes rather than the sight of letters, and that became more taxing than relaxing. This is why I can never study with music on--and why I don't always turn to music for stress-relief.
Reading, though, is enjoyable for me, as long as it's for pleasure and I don't feel pressure to remember anything. (How I ever managed to get this far academically is still a mystery to me, for during the semester I often feel like quite a dunce and far behind my classmates when it comes to learning new things, yet when grades come out I'm often pleasantly surprised with the results. I suppose my ability to write good papers has always been my saving grace.)
Things are finally slowing down, it seems. June gloom, accompanied by cold and rainy weather, has allowed my body to stop feeling frantic and to just sit still, for once. An early dinner and a cup of tea have prepared me for a quiet evening at home.
May was a full month. I finished papers and finals, said goodbye to dear friends who were leaving Yale, flew home for 10 days to see family and friends, and hit the ground running once I returned to New Haven: commencement happened, then a week of orientation for my summer fellowship, followed by a friend's weekend visit over the Memorial Holiday, and then my first week working at the Boys and Girls Club of New Haven.
At 29, it feels a bit silly to be paid by my school to work somewhere for a summer in a fellowship along with other students, some who are still undergrads. All over Facebook and across the world, friends of mine are buying houses, having children, and getting job promotions. One of my best girlfriends played an important role at the Center for Disease Control during the Ebola crisis. My former roommate, with whom I shared so much life and laughter, has been sent to Kenya by World Vision to live for two years. And my best guy friends from high school are working, respectively, as a doctor and a lawyer in Los Angeles, purchase of property there making them proper young professionals.
I'm stoked for my friends, grateful to partake in their adventures through keeping in touch, and just as happy with the life I've chosen. Studenthood and singleness have been a privilege for me, allowing me to learn and live with freedom and joy. I've always made enough to support myself, and even now am doing fine with savings, this summer job, and employment for the coming school year. So that's plenty for which to give thanks.
There was a time when I almost had ring on my finger, a handsome young man who would provide well financially, and the prospect of settling down in California's beautiful Bay Area. It was the dream that so many of my friends envied, and I sometimes think back to the choices I made then that made those prospects short-lived. Life forces some hard decisions on you, and at the time, you wonder if you'll regret it.
By grace, and through faith, I can say that I'm happier than I've ever been, and that I'm looking forward to what lies ahead in hope. Thoughts pass through my head like words on a page, and I'm lucky if I'm diligent enough to write them down. But the memories, like music, linger and last, and rainy days remind me to reflect and remember--so that I might give thanks.
Reading, though, is enjoyable for me, as long as it's for pleasure and I don't feel pressure to remember anything. (How I ever managed to get this far academically is still a mystery to me, for during the semester I often feel like quite a dunce and far behind my classmates when it comes to learning new things, yet when grades come out I'm often pleasantly surprised with the results. I suppose my ability to write good papers has always been my saving grace.)
Things are finally slowing down, it seems. June gloom, accompanied by cold and rainy weather, has allowed my body to stop feeling frantic and to just sit still, for once. An early dinner and a cup of tea have prepared me for a quiet evening at home.
May was a full month. I finished papers and finals, said goodbye to dear friends who were leaving Yale, flew home for 10 days to see family and friends, and hit the ground running once I returned to New Haven: commencement happened, then a week of orientation for my summer fellowship, followed by a friend's weekend visit over the Memorial Holiday, and then my first week working at the Boys and Girls Club of New Haven.
At 29, it feels a bit silly to be paid by my school to work somewhere for a summer in a fellowship along with other students, some who are still undergrads. All over Facebook and across the world, friends of mine are buying houses, having children, and getting job promotions. One of my best girlfriends played an important role at the Center for Disease Control during the Ebola crisis. My former roommate, with whom I shared so much life and laughter, has been sent to Kenya by World Vision to live for two years. And my best guy friends from high school are working, respectively, as a doctor and a lawyer in Los Angeles, purchase of property there making them proper young professionals.
I'm stoked for my friends, grateful to partake in their adventures through keeping in touch, and just as happy with the life I've chosen. Studenthood and singleness have been a privilege for me, allowing me to learn and live with freedom and joy. I've always made enough to support myself, and even now am doing fine with savings, this summer job, and employment for the coming school year. So that's plenty for which to give thanks.
There was a time when I almost had ring on my finger, a handsome young man who would provide well financially, and the prospect of settling down in California's beautiful Bay Area. It was the dream that so many of my friends envied, and I sometimes think back to the choices I made then that made those prospects short-lived. Life forces some hard decisions on you, and at the time, you wonder if you'll regret it.
By grace, and through faith, I can say that I'm happier than I've ever been, and that I'm looking forward to what lies ahead in hope. Thoughts pass through my head like words on a page, and I'm lucky if I'm diligent enough to write them down. But the memories, like music, linger and last, and rainy days remind me to reflect and remember--so that I might give thanks.
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