This is Michigan.

Talk about standing up and believing... On Saturday, September 10, a team of dedicated and committed individuals stood up and believed. They believed they could win; they believed they deserved to win; they believed they could make history. And they did.


In front of a record-breaking crowd of 114,801 in the first-ever night game at Michigan Stadium, the University of Michigan stood up, and believed. In what had been a poor performance, the University of Notre Dame almost tripled Michigan's offensive yardage in the first half. By the end of the third quarter, Notre Dame was leading 24-7, and they looked unbeatable. We had packed into the Big House excited and expectant; there was no way we were going to lose against one of our biggest rivals. However, after two interceptions from Denard Robinson and a series of horribly botched defensive plays, a loss seemed inevitable. 


Somehow, for the third year in a row, Michigan decided to step up its game in the fourth quarter. Within ten minutes, Denard Robinson had orchestrated two touchdowns, making the score 24-21. With four minutes left and Michigan within field goal range, however, Denard then threw an interception that made the comeback seem impossible. Then the miracles started. Michigan's usually unreliable defense forced Notre Dame into a three-and-out, and Denard marched down the field and threw a touchdown pass with 1:12 left, making the score 28-24. At this point, the Big House was exploding with noise and celebrations - the comeback was complete. With only a minute left, we had fought back from three touchdowns behind and are beating Notre Dame. I couldn't believe what had happened, but little did I know, there was more to come.


After that imperious fourth quarter performance, it was Michigan's turn to look unbeatable. There was no way Notre Dame was marching down 80 yards in one minute to win the game. But they did. With 30 seconds left, Tommy Rees threw a touchdown pass to a totally unmarked receiver, and Michigan Stadium was silenced. Our hearts sank, and the comeback that took 15 minutes to complete took merely 30 seconds to defeat. Again, I couldn't believe what happened. 30 seconds was definitely not enough for us to score a touchdown. But of course, we had Denard Robinson. Only three plays later, Michigan was at Notre Dame's 16-yard line. With 8 seconds left, we could have gone for the field goal to tie it, or risk going over time and try to win it. At this point, Brady Hoke stood up and believed. He believed in his team and his quarterback. With only 2 seconds left, Denard threw a touchdown pass to Roy Roundtree and FINALLY completed the comeback. The stadium erupted, and I just stood there, with my hands stretched into the air, in disbelief. I couldn't even cheer or celebrate. I was just in sheer disbelief. Three touchdowns in one minute. We did it, in front of the nation, against Notre Dame, in the first night game at the Big House. I just stood there and stared onto the field. I was speechless. Yes, it happened.


I had never seen Michigan Stadium that loud, and had never seen that many people stay after the game. We were just there, dancing and singing to our team. This win wasn't significant just because it was the first night game, or because we beat Notre Dame, or even because we came from behind. But it was because it gave us hope as Michigan fans. We had been through so much; so much pain and despair. But this showed us how the team still had the fight in them. Brady Hoke showed that he believes in Michigan. This win was so significant because we never gave up; with 30 seconds to march down the field, the team kept fighting and fighting. They never gave up, but they marched down that field, determined they were going to win the game. 


This game was nothing short of amazing. From the flyover to parachuters from the 101st Airborne parachuting into the stadium; from the rave during the halftime show to seeing Michigan Stadium under the lights, it was a special day in Michigan Football history. More importantly, however, we saw a team that never gave up. We saw a team that, despite having gone through tough times, came out even tougher. We saw a team that stood up and believed. This is Michigan.


It's Great to Be a Michigan Wolverine.
Michigan 35-31 Notre Dame

Forever and ever, Go Blue.

First Week of School

I just finished a crazy, roller coaster ride of the first week. I teach four sections of 9th Grade U.S. History, and one section of Basic Law. The content is really exciting, as I got the social studies placement I've always wanted, and Basic Law is a really cool class. Basic Law covers, well, the basics of law; we cover constitutional law, civil law, torts, criminal law, trial procedures, international law etc... We also participate in the Michigan Mock Trial and Youth in Government program, which holds conferences in Lansing every year. The coolest thing about this class is the Teen Court program, where the District Court brings in an actual juvenile trial into my classroom (also a courtroom) and the trial happens right in front of my students. These juvenile defendants are non-violent offenders who admit guilt before the trial, and my students basically serve as a teen jury that will question the defendant and issue a recommendation to the judge for sentencing. It's a truly amazing opportunity to the students to see the judicial system in action, and for them to get introduced to the law before college even begins. My classroom is set up just like a courtroom, so I can simulate a courtroom every single lesson, week in, week out. Even more, we're working with the U.S. Attorney, the Wayne County Prosecutor's Office, Congressmen Conyers and Clarke, and the Detroit Police, to get students to all the public events they can, and be exposed to the many pathways of opportunities available to them.

This being said, it isn't an easy job at all. I have very little background in law, and I have to learn everything I'm teaching. I've had to go through quite a few law books to know the basics, especially when it comes to criminal law. I also have had no experience in trial procedures, so I've had to have students teach me how to organize a Mock Trial team. On top of that, I've had to write my own curriculum (although I do have a textbook), and make a lot of stuff up. It's a lot of work, I guess, but it really does sound like a lot of fun. I've also had some awesome guidance though - I have a great mentor teacher who has helped me with all the logistics, and has offered to go through all the stuff I write. She's been doing a lot of the planning, and has just been awesome. There also happens to be another TFA teacher who is teaching the same class in another school (we're the only two law teachers in all of Detroit Public Schools!), so it's nice to get more help, too. 

Now to the fun part - the students. I have around 40-45 students in each class, putting my total to around 220 students, making it a challenge to manage and effectively invest in all of them. They're all compliant - they do the work I ask them to do, but will sometimes give me attitude about it. I've been told: "man you talk too much, just shut up," or "man this class is boring." One of my 12th graders in my law class even led a "Let's Go Home" chant. They'll try to talk over me, challenge me when I give directions, or complain about the work I'm giving them, but at the very least, they're still doing the work. A lot of them don't want to be there, so it's hard to blame them for their attitude. However, this just means I'll have to make the class more interesting in order to engage them a bit more. It's not easy, but that's the job I'm here to do. These kids have not received the best education, and I'm there to give them that. Coming in to 9th Grade, they know four 'states' (Detroit, Michigan, Canada and Mexico), Huron is one of the oceans of the world, and Tokyo is a country in Europe. Asia and Africa, also, are both countries. Needless to say, a lot of work needs to be done. After the first week, I now have a clearer picture of the work that does need to be done. I now know which students need more academic attention, and which students need a tighter grip. I've had to have some serious conversations with students who are disrupting the class, and after that, it's seemed to make things a bit better. My students still have a huge attitude, but at least they're working hard when I need them to. Again, the most important lesson here is consistency. When I implement the rules consistently and frequently, my students are reminded that I'm in control, and that's what I need. Yesterday, when one of my louder students was talking yesterday, another told him to shut up, because I'd yell at them. Now, that's exactly what I wanted! I knew I had to start off by being the mean, strict teacher, or else the students wouldn't respect me. Hopefully, this is the start of something great. Of course, a student did tell me "yo, Mr. Hui, you're cute..." That, hopefully, won't continue...

Lastly, I've been really blessed to have an amazing group of people around me. My administration has been amazing. My principal really cares about the students, and her high expectations just make sure that I'm doing my job right. The other teachers are all amazing - they truly care, and have done everything they can to get my used to my job. They have taken the initiative to introduce themselves, send me resources, and give me ideas on how to teach better. My fellow TFA corps members have been amazing friends and a wonderful support. One of them teaches at my school (and also goes to my church), and has been an ever-present support and source of advice. Everyone else in Detroit has been so supportive and have shown me how to teach well, and more importantly, how to truly love your students. They exemplify what sacrifice means, and I've looked up to them to learn how to give my all for my kids. The friendships I've built here just go to show how important a support system is, and how important it is to always have people around you that care about you and your work. Church, as always, has been amazing, and the group there has always prayed for our work and always stop me to talk ask me how I'm doing.

It's been an interesting week. Definitely a roller coaster ride, but I'm sure it's only going to get better. I'm absolutely exhausted when I get home - it's undoubtedly frustrating, and very hard. Having the kids not listen, challenge me and talk back at me for six hours a day is tiring, but when I get home, I remember that it's all going to be worth it at the end of the day. It's going to be a long, tiring road, but when I see my students truly be invested in their education and have that desire to learn, I'll know that the yelling (and getting yelled at) was all for a good reason. It's felt like so much longer than a week, and there are another 33 to go, but that means that I have 33 more weeks to make a difference. I'm getting there; slowly, but surely.

-----------------------

Here are some pictures of my classroom:

Room 320: my History classroom

My Courtroom-Classroom

There's Nothing Like the D

It's been two weeks since I moved to Detroit, and what a great two weeks it's been. My roommate Matt and I moved into a two-bedroom townhome in a development about a mile east of downtown Detroit. We're literally a one-minute drive to downtown, I-75, and the Detroit River, so it's a great location, and we really are in the middle of everything. Most of the Teach for America folk also live around here, which makes the area so much more fun.


We've been planning for the upcoming year during our kickoff training these past two weeks; I've had to plan what exactly I'm going to in my classroom - what jobs to assign students, what prizes I'm going to give out, setting my credits/debits system, how to discipline my kids etc... Even though I still don't have a placement, I've still had to do the generic stuff, which has settled my nerves because I now have opportunities to practically apply what I learned during Institute. With all these plans in place, I can picture my classroom and imagine what it'll look like. This is a reminder though, that school is only two weeks away - I guess it's only hit just now.


After training and during weekends, however, we've gotten to explore the city and really enjoy what it has to offer. It's no Hong Kong, San Francisco, or New York, but Detroit has a unique charm unparalleled by any other city I've been to.  It's definitely not the most convenient (barely any buses or cabs), or the most modern, but there are so many things that make Detroit the special place it is. Eastern Market is one of the largest farmers markets I've been to - everything is so fresh and cheap, and it literally has everything you'd want. Zingerman's even has a stall there. Then, you walk through Greektown, and experience two blocks of amazing Greek food and some of the most delicious pastries ever. After eating out, you then have a selection of a bunch of awesome bars. From a pub with live Irish music and dancing to a warehouse-turned-brewery that brews in house, and from a Billboard Top 40-type club to a classic midwestern bar that serves only Michigan beer, Detroit is often bustling with nightlife. After the bars, you complete the night by strolling down the river walk. Walking along the boardwalk, with the Detroit skyline on the left and the breeze from the river to the right, you just get that moment of serenity and peace, away from the crowds.


To people from big cities, that might not have sounded too interesting or exciting, but what Detroit has is a culture of artistic innovation, social awareness and an unwavering pride of anything Detroit. Walking through the many neighborhoods of Detroit, you'll see warehouses turned into lofts and studios, grand murals painted on buildings' walls, local artists and musicians trying to make it big, and many other things that make Detroit and up-and-coming hub of artistic creativity. Detroit's culture is also one that embodies social awareness; the people of Detroit actually care about others in their city. Around the city, what you'll see are community gardens, social justice clinics, children's camps, neighborhood events, food drives and much, much more. Here in Detroit, there is that sense of camaraderie and pride of being from the D. The people are some of the most genuine I've ever met - they will do anything to get to know you, and will do whatever it takes to get your back. They don't have an ulterior motive, except to be there for you and welcome you into the community. To be honest, I was worried about being one of the very few Asians in the city, and indeed, I'm probably the only one in my development. I was worried about being picked on, and not being welcomed into the community. On the contrary, my neighbors have taken time to introduce themselves and welcome me to their community, invited us over for grills, and even random people on the street will ask me how my morning was. I was wrong, and the people of Detroit really have shown a hospitality that I had not seen in any other city before. Before moving here, I had wanted to be back in the Bay Area, or be in Boston, D.C., Chicago, or any other 'big' city, but Detroit has met my expectations, and more. Detroit may not have the fancy, cosmopolitan parts of a 'big' city, but what it has is its unique culture, its pride, and the genuineness that all those other cities don't have. Despite the reputation that Detroit gets, people are still so proud of their city, and will do whatever it takes to bring it back to its heyday.


All this isn't to say that Detroit doesn't have its problems. Violence and crime are certainly problems that still plague the city. Last weekend, there were 16 unrelated shootings during the day in the city of Detroit. My friend had one of her car parts stolen from underneath her car at my parking lot; they even had the audacity to saw off a part of her tailpipe. The Detroit Police said that this was a frequent occurrence, and there wasn't really anything we could do to stop it. Just gotta pray, I guess. At home, we have to keep our blinds shut and keep our doors locked at all times, and I never, ever leave anything outside. Some people say that this is inconvenient, but I think it's just part of life. In any big city, crime is inevitably going to be a problem. Whether you're in New York City, London or Paris, your car could just as well be broken into, and you won't ever leave your doors unlocked anyway. There is always a price you pay for living in a city, and this is just one of them. But when I look at the rewards of being in Detroit and the excitement it will provide, these little things are worth it. These next three years are going to be absolutely transformational, and now that I think about it, I wouldn't want to be anywhere but Detroit.

Institute Reflections

It’s been almost two weeks since Institute ended. It really does feel like it was so long ago; when I walked out of Bronx Prep and then out of St. John’s University, it was kind of surreal. It was surreal because it was only two weeks before that when I thought it would never end. It was surreal because Institute seemed like an eternity, but yet when it ended, it felt like it never really happened. We were on such a routine, and we had processed through so much that our minds were numb to thinking about what had just happened over the past five weeks. It didn’t seem like that long ago when I had to think twice about why I was doing this, and if I would actually make it through these crazy 19-hour days. I did, and I came out of those five weeks a better teacher, ready to do what I need to do in Detroit.

The last two weeks of Institute seem like a blur to me now. We had come up with such a routine that it didn’t really stress us out that much anymore. I made sure that my lesson plans and handouts for the next day were done by 5pm, so when I got off the bus from school, I would go straight to print and copy, just to skip the long lines later at night at the copy center. I finally learned how to fully script out a lesson plan, and how to ask students the right questions to push their understanding. I learned how to execute my lessons efficiently, so that my students would be interested and invested. I learned what I needed to do when I needed my students to work, when I needed to listen, when I needed to them work with each other, and when I needed them to speak up in class. Thinking back to the last two weeks, they just happened so fast. It seemed like I didn’t really get to go through everything I wanted to. I didn’t get to know my students well enough. It just wasn’t a long-enough summer. Indeed, as much as I didn’t enjoy the training part of Institute, my students at Bronx Prep were amazing, and they deserved so much more than the time we gave them.

I left Bronx Prep with a sense of excitement – for a new chapter of my life in Detroit – but also one of regret. I regretted not knowing my students as well as I could have; I didn’t know their stories, I didn’t know who they were as people. The fact that they were the class I used to student-teach and train made it feel like they were our guinea pigs. We tried and tested our methods on them, and when they didn’t work, they just sat there in confusion. One of my biggest regrets at Bronx Prep was that the four weeks we had with our students could have been so much more impactful than they were. One of my students was passionate about the subject and had worked diligently in class. He knew he wasn’t doing well with the material, so he asked to stay after school for tutoring, took the initiative to ask more questions, and did his homework to the best of his ability. Before the final exam, he was passing the class with a C average. Then came the final. The final exam, being the only assessment not written by myself, was also a gauge of teacher effectiveness. If the students did well, it probably showed that the teachers had effectively taught the students the objectives. If the students didn’t do well, questions are asked about the teacher and if they actually taught the students the material. As it turns out, all but one of my students passed it. He went from passing my class to failing it marginally, solely because of his performance on his final. This means he would probably have to repeat this class again next year, maybe even pushing his graduation back another year.

Seeing his test results broke my heart – not only for him but for myself. I had questions about my own ability to teach; if this test was meant to measure how well we taught them, does that mean I didn’t do a good job of it? Did he really fail because I wasn’t a good enough teacher? Thinking about it more though, I realized that this wasn’t the attitude I should be having. The question isn’t why I failed, but why we failed as a team. The question was where the disconnect was between my teaching and his learning, and identifying how I could improve my teaching so that my students will increase their own learning. I had to remember that we were a team, and it wasn’t only his fault, or my fault, but a collaborative effort.  The question I had to address was how I could become a better teacher, and how I could help him become a better student. While this part of the past was unfortunate, and regrettable, we can only change what’s ahead of us. I came out of this knowing that I will need to change my delivery of information, that students need more individualized time than what I had given, and that I probably need to be a stricter grader, so that students know where they actually are with their learning.

I talked to him after class and told him I was proud of his work in class. I told him I was proud of him no matter what, because he showed he actually cared. He deserved it, and so did the rest of my class. They may have told me I was boring, fallen asleep, and texted each other in class, but these were nothing in comparison to what many other students did. My class showed me the respect that any teacher deserved, and they thoroughly deserve my appreciation for that. On my last day, my students gave me a signed t-shirt and card that expressed their own thanks for this summer. That, for me, was one of the most powerful moments in my teaching – I was reminded of why I did this again. I was reminded that no matter how hard it was going to be, it was for no one else but the kids.

Institute wasn’t easy. Not at all. But I did come out of it knowing how to be a better teacher. I was pushed to improve, pushed to make my kids improve, and pushed to do everything in my power to help my students succeed. I came out of Institute with a clear direction on where I want to (and don’t want to) take my class next year. I know my strengths and weaknesses, and can leverage that to make my classroom as effective as it can be next year. I may not have gotten the instruction that I wanted, but in some ways I got more than that; I learned some essential skills that would make me a more effective teacher. I may still not know how to be an effective English teacher, but I do know how to execute my lessons efficiently, and how to invest in my students to build genuine, lasting relationships with them. The challenges at Institute only made me more aware of the challenges we will be facing in Detroit. There are things I’m not going to agree with here, just as there were at Institute, but I have to remember that this isn’t about me. I have an entire community of amazing corps members in Detroit who have a real heart for the city and these students. They care so deeply about the education of these young men and women, and together, we will find ways to best serve our students. The heart that my fellow corps members have shown has been nothing short of transformational – they will work day and night to ensure that they teach effectively, and will love their students more than anything. We will work through these challenges together, share ideas with each other, build each other up, encourage each other, and most importantly, constantly remind each other of why we’re here, and who we’re here for. There are undoubtedly going to be challenges like the ones we faced at Institute, but these are means to get to the end of being a good teacher. So, if this is what I have to do to best serve my kids, that’s what I’ll do.

Weeks Two and Three

In the blink of an eye, weeks two and three went by, just like that. It's been an extremely rewarding couple of weeks; full of ups and downs, but what came out of it was that I'm now much better prepared to teach, and my students are clearly learning. I've had one-on-one conversations with them, and it's obvious that they want to learn and they want to pass the class. These kids are still among the best behaved in the school, and I'm so blessed to have students who know how to sit down and just get down to work when they need to. They may not always be engaged, or do their homework, but at the very least they're clearly trying more and doing more than they were at the beginning of summer school, and that's definitely a plus. There's still a lot to do, and my students still aren't where they need to be academically, but they're getting there, and by the end of next week, I'm fully expecting that they will be there.


Lessons Learned


You can't let them get away with anything.
Even though my kids are extremely well-behaved for the most part, they do have occasionally streaks of rebelliousness. They still text in class, pass notes, fall asleep, and show me sass. I first thought that these were pretty minor things and didn't really need to address them, because they were otherwise pretty well-behaved. I was wrong, because they just take advantage of that and do more and more. I've had to discipline them for every single thing, even not sitting up straight, or for talking too loudly. It's true, that if you don't do this, you'll never get the respect of a teacher. They will just keep doing little things that add up to a lot of time wasted, and a lot of work not done. 


You have to get to know them as people.
They're not just your students, and you're not just their teacher, but you're an example in their life - a life coach in some ways. My students mentioned that even though I showed I cared about them, it was limited to the academic sphere. I never talked to them about their lives, or their weekends, or tried to know their likes and dislikes. They want their teachers to do this, because they want role models in their lives.


You can't just talk at them.
Last Thursday, I taught a class on tone and setting in poetry. I thought they were pretty hard concepts, so I modeled the methods and gave examples to the class. Of our one-hour period, I spoke for 45 minutes. I occasionally stopped for questions and to see if students understood what I was saying, but I just talked straight through and drew on the board for a while. The students were bored out of their minds, and had no interest in learning after that. I even decided not to give the class the test I had written for them, because it was clear from my teaching that they probably didn't learn anything. And it was totally my fault. I learned that you really can't just talk at them, but you have to let them try to do the work, play around with concepts, and then correct them after they do it. Learning is about trial and error, and it looks like both teachers and students need to learn that.


Students need to be actively engaged.
I had the students fill out an anonymous survey yesterday, and most of them indicated that the class was boring and uninteresting. It wasn't that they didn't want to learn, but it just wasn't fun and interactive enough for them. I learned that students have to be fully engaged - group activities, moving around the classroom, using multimedia and fun competitions are all ways of making sure students are focused and interested. If I just continued to give them worksheets and essays, they really won't want to be in the class too much.




Stories of Encouragement


"Miss, I am going to pass this class."
One of my students has been caught many times texting in class. After class one day, we spoke to him and told him that this was distracting, and he needs to focus or else he will fail this class. The next morning, he walks into first period, hands our second-period teacher his phone, and says "Miss, I am going to pass this class. Please take my phone every morning." It was just such an amazing turnaround from being rebellious to being excited to learn, and he even went beyond that to make sure he was learning.


"I know I can do this"
We've been trying to instill confidence in our students these past few weeks. Some of them don't believe they can pass the end-of-semester test, but we've been talking to them, and pushing them to do even better. This really showed, when yesterday, they said that they believe they can, and so they will. They believe that they are smart and capable, and this is exactly the kind of confidence and self-belief they need to go even further in their education.


Going above and beyond
After lecturing the class about not doing their homework, the next morning the kids went above and beyond what was expected of them. Their assigned homework was to write two short paragraphs on an essay topic. They showed up the next morning with two full pages of writing. They really do want to pass this class.


Getting to know the community
Yesterday, some of our students took us on a walk around the South Bronx. They showed us where they live, where they buy groceries, where they go to church, where they play ball etc... It was eye-opening and inspirational. They mentioned that their teachers never really make an effort to be part of their community, but there really is so much to see, and so much to learn. We learned about the gang conflicts between neighborhoods, which explains why some students in our classes refuse to talk to others - because where they're from and the building they live in prohibits that. It's heartbreaking, and no one's really doing anything about it. If students are our future, why can't teachers help shape the future by shaping our students' understanding of their neighborhood, and to foster reconciliation? We saw the communities the kids lived in, and we really got to understood the context from which they are coming. We heard stories of hardship, found out that some of our students take an hour and a half to commute to school, and got to know what they had to deal with at home and in their communities. It really was eye-opening, and now that we know them on a much more personal level, we're not only motivated to help them as people, but to be a part of the change in the community.

Diversity

Over the past few weeks, and indeed years, we've talked a lot about diversity. Diversity works, and diversity is important in a world that is increasingly interconnected, and especially in a country that is still bearing the scars of discrimination and racial injustice. However, there are productive ways to talk about diversity, and ways that merely perpetuate existing problems. I don't think there are right or wrong ways, but there are certainly more, or less effective methods, at least in my eyes.


Diversity is the celebration of different identities; the embrace of identities different from your own, and a mutual respect for people who have a different worldview than you do. Diversity is how we celebrate the many races, ethnicities, nationalities, religions, gender identities, sexual orientations and other identities shared by those around the world. When done right, the celebration of cultures is the foundation of a free society, but when done wrong, it perpetuates stereotypes, reinforces prejudices, and often makes assumptions when that is exactly what we are trying to eliminate. 


Diversity should be an open channel of frank and honest conversation between peoples of different identities, where they can respect each other through their differences, and learn to celebrate each other's identities. It should be a mutual effort, where ideas and beliefs are shared, and groups work together to achieve a mutual understanding. However, diversity has become something led by those in the majority who feel guilty for who they are. They try to disprove stereotypes, but if you try to do it without involving minorities, all you do sometimes is perpetuate them. As an Asian-American, here's what I have to say: there really is no need to feel guilty. Sometimes, diversity sessions involve some serious stereotyping, and in order to make a point, stereotypes are reinforced, and members of the majority culture are made to feel guilty for being who they are. We're really not angry at people for who they are - it's what they do with their identity that can cause discrimination. If you respect those who are different from you, it doesn't matter  if your grandfather's grandfather was a member of the KKK. It doesn't affect who you are. Sometimes, it's precisely this guilt that makes conversations about diversity so much harder; White males make other White males feel bad, causing them to be insecure about their identities, and in order to address racial and cultural differences, stereotypes are brought up, but are never addressed correctly. The unfortunate result, therefore, is that stereotypes are reinforced, but never explained. Conversations about diversity cannot happen because of guilt; they lead to an exaggeration of differences and misrepresentation of what the other culture is actually like. This often leads to assumptions being made about others' assumptions; because of this insecurity, people assume the worst of people when they make certain comments, and the immediate reaction is that someone is a racist. If diversity is about eliminating assumptions, we have to assume the best in people. Diversity sessions, therefore, cannot be about making assumptions about others' racial and gender stereotypes; it's not about making people feel bad, but opening channels of communication that had otherwise not existed. When we talk about diversity, we should do it to appreciate our differences, and learn about others, but not to emphasize them. 


One thing people forget sometimes, is that Americans from different backgrounds still share one common identity - the identity of an American. Whether you're Asian-American, White, African-American or Latino American, you still share the love for your country. During diversity sessions, however, the commonalities are often neglected, and differences are emphasized. We learn about how we are all different, and phrases like "we respect each other despite our differences" and "we treasure how we are all so different" are thrown out there. However, one phrase I never hear is "we may be different in many ways, but we do want to celebrate what we have in common." Celebrating diversity is great, and necessary, but if that's all we talk about, minorities are constantly reminded that they are not the same, and the implication of that is that they are not "American." 


Diversity is something we should celebrate in this country, and after a long history of hate and discrimination, it's about time we talked about it. But we must ensure that we talk about it in a way that is productive and sensitive. If we are to truly understand our differences, let's be truly open and honest; diversity sessions can't just be PC anymore - because people just say what others want to hear - but they should be about clarifying questions, misunderstandings, and honest conversations based on respect and humility. As a minority, I don't need to be constantly reminded that I'm different, but that my friends of different races and identities still share things in common. We don't need people to feel guilty, and if you're White, you should be proud of your heritage and your identity, instead of having to hide your culture because it's not Asian or Latin American. We want to learn about your heritage as a German American, Italian American, or whatever. Let's continue where we left off, and remember that diversity is a conversation that involves everyone, and celebrating everyone for everything they are.

Week One

So, after my first week of teaching 11th Grade English at Bronx Prep, my kids are still debating how to pronounce my last name. I hear them trying to ask me a question, but they usually have to spend 30 seconds asking each other what my name actually is. From day to day, it varies from Mr. Way, Mr. Huwai, Mr. Who?, Mr. Wee... It's pretty funny, and yes, my kids are pretty awesome.


My first day of teaching - ever - was a horrible mess. The school assigned us to teach the wrong period, so my students were sitting in the classroom for half an hour before someone came and got me and told me that they had given me the wrong class assignment. I had to run up to my classroom and immediately begin my lesson. Needless to say, it was a mess. I didn't really know what I was saying, and all I did was keep giving my kids worksheets to complete. I had totally forgotten that I never really introduced them to the material, or told them why we were doing the work. They probably walked out of that classroom lost and bewildered, unsure of what they just went through (at least that's what my advisor told me). That wasn't a good start, and I clearly didn't leave a good first impression of myself with my students. But the second day came, and the third day came, and soon enough, I was getting into the rhythm of teaching these kids reading comprehension. 


The next day, my lesson was much better - the kids knew what we were doing, and they followed along, and actually learned something! Now, for a teacher, that really is the first step - if you teach them a whole bunch of stuff, make it really fun and all, but they don't learn anything, you're not really doing much. I was told I lacked energy and passion for my teaching, that I didn't really convey my love for literature. I should've told my advisor that yes - I really didn't have much of a love for literature, but I didn't, so I just told them how much I loved the text, how much it meant to me, and blah blah blah. Way to use those bullshitting techniques I learned from college. To make up for my lack of energy at 8 in the morning, I played videos for the kids and used song lyrics to demonstrate key ideas. Bruno Mars, Eminem, Will Smith, Sandra Bullock and a bunch of other people starred in my multimedia presentations as I taught my kids how to make inferences, write about themes, and all that. I have no creativity, so I let other people do it for me. Thanks YouTube. 


By the end of my first week of teaching, however, I feel at home in front of the kids. Someone told me that teaching is a performance every single day - you're front and center in front of a restless audience, and you need to deliver a perfect performance every single time, or else your kids pick up on it. It's so true - there really is a lot of pressure as you step up in front of that class and teach them something new. I'm scared of screwing up, of saying the wrong things, of teaching them concepts the wrong way, but in the end, you just learn to deal with it. As I walked into the classroom every morning this week, I did feel the pressure, and I did feel how all the attention was on me - I had to do well, and could not be faultless, I thought. However, I learned that it's not about delivering a 'perfect performance,' but engaging your kids in such a way that if you screw up, you have the respect to work through that, and of course, you also have the ability to talk your way out of it. Now, it really does feel right. I love being in front of those kids, and I'm not worried about screwing up, because that really is just part of teaching sometimes. I love being up there, and after the hell that was the first day of class, I'm getting into it, and it's pretty awesome. I have been blessed, too, that I have extremely well-behaved kids. I came in worried about dealing with behavior problems, but if the worst is falling asleep in class, things really aren't too bad, especially because other corps members have had fist fights and pepper spray incidents in classrooms. So, I'll just say that I've been really blessed with a bunch of great students, making my first week of teaching much easier than it really could have been. There's still a long way to go - my students are still kind of bored, they barely care about their homework, and they fall asleep in class - but it takes time, and I'll learn.   I'll learn to be a more interesting teacher, to make them laugh (I tried a few times, and they didn't dig it), and to really convey to them that I care. At some point, I guess, I'll figure it out.


The training part still involves, for the most part, a lot of sharing and reflections. I love teaching, I love my kids, and I love the classroom, but coming out of my classroom at 11am and going to training right afterwards isn't exactly the most exhilarating thing ever. Some of it is really useful - how to manage behavior, how to deliver a good lesson plan - but some of it really is a waste of time. We're all motivated, so we don't need motivational reflection sessions. We're all capable people, so we really don't need time to peer-edit our lesson plans. Also, we're all working 20 hour-days, so why spend an hour on some days reading our lesson plans to people when we could be actually planning a lesson? After talking to a bunch of Teach for America corps members from around the country, old and new, I think our corps has come to a conclusion - that even though training may be useless at times, it will help us someday, and most importantly, it gets us to where we want to be - to teach our kids as fully certified teachers. So, I guess it's gotta be done, if only for the most important thing to us right now - the students.


The unexplainable mess that is training aside, some of the people I've met here are truly amazing. They really embody what service and sacrifice is all about, and they go so far beyond what is expected of them for their kids. Some wake up before 5am to go to Dunkin' Donuts to buy breakfast for the kids to incentivize them to get to school early, some spend hours on end perfecting posters to aid kids' visual learning, some dress themselves up in aluminum foil to demonstrate the FOIL method in Math, some call their kids at home to give them homework guidance, and many others spend hours personalizing every lesson to every student, so that all of them can learn in their different ways. I've been inspired, no doubt. I didn't even think of doing some of the things people are doing; hardly had I imagined some of the sacrifices people are making, but this is what teaching really is all about. I've had to learn how to make these sacrifices, and while I can do the bare minimum to get by, it really isn't enough, and I've seen that through the people around me. They've inspired me to work even harder, to sleep even less, because our kids deserve our very best. I'm not just trying to be cheesy, but it really is true. Our actions will inevitably impact someone else's life here. It's a life, and you really don't mess with that. 


Today, I received a letter in the corps member mail. It was a letter from a public school student in Detroit. She told me why she was so excited for me to come to Detroit, how teachers have impacted her life, and how her school so desperately needs teachers who care. It was the broken language, misspelled words, and the barely legible writing that got to me - she could barely write, but she spent all this time to write letters, showing how much she cares, and how great the need is. This past week, walking into my classroom and seeing my kids, and hearing in person the stories of my students and students in Detroit was more inspiring and motivating than any statistic, video, or motivational speech I heard. All through training, we talked about why educational inequality needed to be fixed, and we were pumped up to change the status quo, but it was only this week that I realized this: nothing came even close to the excitement I had for the future when I met my kids. Their lives and stories speak more than any statistic, speech or video will, and I'm constantly reminded that despite getting 5 hours of sleep a night, it's not about us anymore. It's so much more than that.

We Teach for the D

We just finished our first week of training at the Teach for America Institute in New York City. Next week, I'm going to begin teaching 11th Grade English at the Bronx Preparatory Charter School. It's crazy to think that in three days, I'm going to be in front of fifteen to twenty students as a teacher for the first time. As I I look back to this past week of training and everything that's happened, I don't think I've had that great - and short - of a roller-coaster ride in a while. To be honest, some parts of training are totally unnecessary - we keep talking about our vision, why we're in the corps, why our education system sucks, how we're feeling about social injustice etc... Our responses at all of those sessions were the same: of course we see the injustice, of course we're angry, of course we want to change this. If we didn't know this, we wouldn't be here. Somehow, I guess, they still wanted to talk a LOT before we put anything into action. Anyway, this made me come out of the first two days of training pissed and groggy. We sat indoors from 6 am to 5 pm, listening to session after session about vision-casting, the importance of diversity (yay Intervarsity!) and the realities of injustice, while school was starting in five days, and we hadn't even started planning yet. The printing and coping systems weren't working, we were getting five hours of sleep, we didn't know what was going on in our schools, our advisors didn't show up, and it went on and on and on. Nothing was going right during the first two days, and they sucked.


After those two days though, I sat down and reflected. I remembered the bigger picture for which we were working toward; I remembered that this isn't about me, but about our kids. I realized that these little problems were simply insignificant compared to the problems our students had to deal with, and they just weren't worth complaining about. I also realized the importance of some of the sessions that we thought were annoying and useless; we needed to learn how to teach in a diverse school, we needed to learn how to deal with parents from different cultural backgrounds, and yes, we needed to talk about our vision because this was the only thing that was pushing us forward. I also realized that there was a reason we weren't planning for school - it was because they wanted us to get used to the tight timeframe, and make us work under the kind of pressure that we would be under as teachers. I remembered again that this job wasn't going to be easy, and if you really do want to make difference, you have to work for it. If this means waking up at 5 every morning, not having time to call home, and having barely any free time, so be it. You just gotta suck it up. I mean, there are still a lot of things that aren't going smoothly here, and days usually do end with frustration, but I just have to remember that this isn't about us. At many points in our lives, things are going to go off-track, and plans are going to be turned upside down, but instead of complaining, we just gotta deal with it. This is our responsibility to our students - that we will work relentlessly, and if this is what it's going to take to bring my student from 1% to passing her exam at 70%, so be it. It's part of the job.


Thinking back now, the logistical screw-ups, the long, tiring sessions and the lack of sleep are just little bits of God's plan. Despite things not running smoothly, they did end up working out by the deadline. Despite the long sessions, we were able to learn (some) valuable lessons, and we were still able to stay awake for most of the day. I'm stronger, not weaker, because of institute. I've learned to persevere more than I ever have, and I've solidified my desire and commitment to why I am teaching. This wasn't easy, but God made it hard - through Teach for America - so that I would learn to be a more effective servant for Him, and for my students. These are challenges that are inevitable in life, but it's God who can refocus you to the bigger picture - to the very reason for why you are doing what you are - and remind you that in the end, everything is worth it.

As I was writing my lesson plan for the first few days of class, I began to realize more and more the magnitude of the work ahead of us. For me, I finally realized how much was at stake; my students are taking the New York Regents Exam in August, and if they fail their English exam, they will have to repeat the year (not to mention how it would affect their entry to college). As I was grading their practice exams, I found out that one student got a 1%, while another was at 24%. It hit me then - that this isn't only about my training; it isn't about my month of teaching, but it's about a lifetime of learning ahead of these students that we may either speed up, or stall. Going back to my lesson plan, then, I realized how much work this was going to be, and the responsibility that we have to each and every one of our students. Instead of just b.s.ing my way through the lesson plan, I reminded myself of my responsibility, and went back and added every detail possible, and adapted it to their needs, because this wasn't only about me getting certified, but about these kids learning. They're not our guinea pigs; they're real people, and us screwing up would lead to real consequences. It's a lot, but with God's help, with faith, and an unwavering perseverance, we're going to get there, because as we say here, We Teach for the D.

College Never Ends

I started Teach for America Institute in New York City yesterday. We're at St. John's University in Queens, which is housed in a gorgeous, tree-lined campus, with catered food and huge apartment-style dorms. It's in a great location - close to Flushing (for the necessary Asian groceries), and a subway ride away from Manhattan. 


One observation I've made though, is that this is exactly like freshman year of college. Seriously, everything about it is just like college, from our environment (obviously) to social interactions. Here are some examples:


Dining:
You only eat with your hallmates (or suitemates), and ignore everyone else when you get to the cafeteria. You knock on most doors to invite people to come to dinner, because you all want to be friends. However, when you get to the cafeteria, you sit in your groups and never really start conversations with other people around you.


Going out:
We wanted to go out last night, but didn't know where to go, so we asked around. Eventually, we followed people who had already been here before, and they took us to a bar, which we realized was far too busy and crowded. Does this remind you of frat parties freshman year and how we'd always follow the 'cool' guy who had a brother who knows someone in the frat?


Social interactions:
They still start off really superficial; we talk about sports and movies and cars and stupid things you did in college, just like you probably did with your freshman year hallmates. We travel in packs of 20, just like we did freshman year. There's always some dude trying to hit on some chick, just like any given day in college. 


Learning:
We sit in classrooms and are talked at by teachers who are training us. They keep going on until, just like in any college class, we fall asleep. Naturally, just like freshman year, we sit as far back as we can, and make snide comments about things our advisors say.


It's just like college! I guess it's just how people are. These things do reflect our tendencies as human beings - to be careful and shielded at first; to want to feel secure; to want others to like you. It's just funny, how I said that I really wanted to get out of college mode and wanted to grow up, and at teacher training, this is exactly what it's like. I'm not complaining - I love it here. The people are great and we're clearly working toward one common purpose, but it's just funny how you leave something, and a few weeks later, it just seems like you've never really left it.


One big difference between this place and college though, is the amount of times you're asked to reflect on your feelings and emotions. College professors just give you information, argue their opinions, and then expect you to process all that yourself. Here, we're given vision upon vision, statistic after statistic, and after each one, are asked how we felt. The first time around, it's very effective and probably a good thing - we learn to be vulnerable and open to our emotions, thus understanding why we were doing the work we're doing, and preparing us emotionally to cope with the challenges that lie ahead. The second time around, it probably reinforces our understanding, underline our commitment and further motivates us to do well. After that, however, it just gets old. We're asked to journal about our feelings after every little story and every statistic. While there are many heartwarming - and heartbreaking - stories, and many more heartbreaking statistics, I'm sure they know that we're only here because we're committed and motivated. They really don't need to motivate us anymore, because that's the only reason we're here getting five hours of sleep a night and waking up at 5 am every morning. I wrote in my last post about how excited I am to do this work, and how the saddening reality of public education is inspiring me to make a difference, but it seems like they think we're not inspired enough. For the past seven days, we've heard the same stories, the same statistics, and the same motivational mottos and buzz words. I think I've heard the word 'relentlessly' and 'achievement' about a thousand times this week. We're here because we were inspired, and talking about the problem for seven days won't change anything. We need to get down and do something about it, and THAT, is what I'm excited to do. 


I guess college really never ends - every new place you go to may remind you of the awkwardness, the nervous anticipation, and the social dynamics of college again, but that's okay. It's what you do about it that matters. It's whether you continue to let it be like freshman year, or do you actually grow up, take responsibility, and learn how to be a successful college student, graduate student, or member of the workforce. Maybe thinking about your feelings will help - in fact, you should do it. But there really is only so much thinking you can do before you actually roll your sleeves up and make a difference.

Rising from the Ashes

Detroit's city motto is "Speramus Meliora; Resurget Cineribus," which means "we hope for better things; it shall rise from the ashes."


I started Induction at Teach for America - Detroit this morning, and quite frankly, I was inspired. Detroit's motto is very fitting, given its circumstances. The city desperately needs hope, but the people I've met today from all around Detroit gives me confidence that it will indeed rise from the ashes. Over the past forty years, Detroit has lost around 50% of its population, and most of the residents that remain are poor and unemployed. 47% of adults in Detroit are illiterate, and Detroit Public Schools has a drop out rate of 43%. To think that half of a city's adult population can't read above third-grade level? That's not only heartbreaking, but it suggests a desperate need for reform of our education system.


I've been asked by close friends why I decided to join Teach for America, and why I would choose to work in an inner-city school, when I could make a bigger difference reforming educational policy on a national scale. What I've learned today confirms this decision, and reflects the reality - the state of despair - of our nation's schools. There is no doubt that reforming policy would make a much larger impact, and would change many lives in one broad stroke, but I learned today that there is no substitute for grassroots-level work. There is absolutely no substitute for teachers who will show students the love they deserve; there is no substitute for mentors who will counsel these students through testing times; there is indeed no better way for students to learn than to have teachers guide them along, side by side. There are so many teachers who just don't care, and so many teachers who ignore the students' best interests, that even if we reformed policies, nothing would change on the ground. 


And you know what? We've tried so many ways to reform our education system, but our schools are only getting worse. While our best schools are continuing to get better, and one middle school in Detroit is left with two teachers for 200 students. This is something truly wrong with this picture. In the most recent Michigan achievement tests, 99.3% of 9th Grade Social Studies students in Gross Pointe, MI (just east of Detroit) met state standards, while only 42.2% of Detroit students did. If this doesn't highlight the steep inequalities inherent in our system, what does? Is it really fair for affluent public schools to get iPads, when others don't even get a library, let alone computers? This ain't right. So, if no one else will help Detroit, it's just going to have to stand up on its own. And it will.


The people I met today are some of the most amazing people I've met. I came in apprehensive, not really knowing what I was getting into, but I was proved wrong. Even though Induction did seem a little bit like college - we hung out in groups of 20, and people all went out to the bars for late-night drinking - the people here have had such different life experiences and stories. One of our corps members served in the Michigan House of Representatives for 4 years, the Michigan Senate for 8 years, and is now part of Teach for America. Many of already had extensive teaching experience, some fought to close brothels in their hometown, one helped repair homes in the Appalachians, and others just simply have a heart to serve those who need it the most. From the conversations I've had, it's clear that people are raring to go; they speak with passion their love for kids, their anger toward injustice, and their excitement for the future. The people here in Detroit, too, are absolutely amazing. The teachers we've met, the community organizers, our tour guide, everyone. They all love this city, and all are committed to sacrifice their time and money to help revive it. They are working relentlessly to restore Detroit to its glory days fifty years ago. Everyone in the room, and indeed in Detroit, has a flame burning in their hearts, and hearing these heartbreaking statistics, who wouldn't? Many of these people have lived it; they've seen front and center how gang violence can impact families, how drugs ruins lives, and how broken families break childrens' hearts. They know what it's like, and that's why they're here to make sure the next generation doesn't have to go through all that.

Detroit was recently called "a national disgrace." Despite its abandoned houses, burned-down buildings, and cries for help, it is beautiful. Downtown is full of history and architectural brilliance, and other areas are so full of energy and culture. Most importantly, there is an undying sense of hope. Detroiters all believe that their city will once again be great. They know that with hard work, with faith, and with partnership, there is yet a bright future.


Going into an inner-city school to teach scares me. I'm going to teach a hundred kids whose futures - to an extent - depend on the successes and failures of my instruction. I'm going to be the only Asian. I'm going to be young. I don't want to screw up. Despite all this though, I look forward to this year with excitement. I have faith that if God put me here, I'm here for a purpose. I'm going to have to learn to not care about what my students think of me. I'm going to have to learn to discipline others. I'm going to have to learn to accept criticism, and embrace differences. But this is all a part of growing up. I'm so excited to be part of this movement that will make a difference; it's going to be a long, hard journey, but in the end, it's all going to be worth it. I do know that with God's help and guidance, with the perseverance and passion of the people of Detroit, it will, once again, rise up from the ashes.

Standing Up and Believing

"I will never forget that the only reason I'm standing here today is because somebody, somewhere stood up for me when it was risky. Stood up when it was hard. Stood up when it wasn't popular. And because that somebody stood up, a few more stood up. And then a few thousand stood up. And then a few million stood up. And standing up, with courage and clear purpose, they somehow managed to change the world."

Barack Obama

44th President of the United States

**********

Just over a month into the summer after graduating from college, I'm sitting on my couch, watching TV, eating a lot of junk, and waiting for real life to begin. In fact, this is when life is at its easiest - there are few worries, hardly any big decisions to make, and more time than is needed. Of course, that's what you think, until you realize that college is behind you, and a new - and much more difficult - chapter of your life is starting to write itself. The question to ask yourself, then, is do you really want this brand new chapter to start with laziness, aimlessness and obesity? Probably not. A chapter begins with a purpose; it sets out to achieve a set of goals somewhere down the line, and proposes how these goals might just be achieved.


Sometimes, we ask God why we're here. Whether you believe in God or not, and whichever god you believe in, we've all asked that question. We ask - and soon enough, demand - for a clear sign of our calling; we want to understand our purpose, a meaning for which we live. We then realize that we can use our lives to make a difference - wherever we may be from, whatever the color of our skin, our gender, or our belief systems, we are convicted to change something around us that just doesn't look right. Indeed, this is purpose for which I believe we are living; we are to make a difference in this broken world. Making a difference doesn't mean you have to work in a third-world country, become a pastor, or sit in the Oval Office. We all make a difference in our own ways - we are all given gifts with which we can change a few little things in the world, and together, combine our efforts to create a better world for generations to come. We make a difference by inventing the latest computer, discovering the newest medicine, building the safest buildings, and for many, simply showing their own children the love they so deserve.


Making a difference isn't easy, and sometimes, sitting on the couch, watching TV and eating just sounds like a better idea. But change takes time, and it takes a lot of perseverance. It requires one to stand up for what they believe in - to profess their values and their vision in the face of doubt and opposition. It also requires faith - the "confidence in what we hope for and an assurance for what we do not see" (Hebrews 11:1). Nothing will ever happen if we don't stand up for what we believe is right, and we will never make a difference if we don't believe we can. It's not going to be easy, but I realized that it's just part of growing up. Growing up means taking life seriously. It's not a joke anymore, but things are real - with real consequences. It's time to take a stand, and hopefully this is a journey that I can look back on knowing that I will have made a difference. We'll see, I guess.