Thoughts on Trayvon Martin

I have experienced "racism" (or what we would consider it in this country) overseas where I was the minority. But you have to understand, there is none of the conceptions that we have here. Civil Rights laws, age, sex, etc. simply do not exist in most parts of the world. What happened to me may be perhaps as embarrassing as it was for the black soldier in your story. I put "racism" in quotes because today in this country it seems more a kind of unhealed scar that is often used to denigrate someone. Anything can be attributed to it, and the only proof needed is apparently two people of different races. Who really knows if there is a process in the brain that we can point to and call it "racist". Instead we have these imperfect notions that don't really seem to solve the problem. People do stupid things to other people, regardless of race.

We will never get beyond these complex problems unless we all have an honest dialog about race and race relations. In this case, it is possible that Trayvon Martin had his pride wounded because he thought that he was being pursued because of his race. "This guy is following me because I'm black," he might have been thinking. Pride offended, he may have chosen to confront Mr. Zimmerman--unwisely it turns out.

So what can we do? Well, first of all, let's shelve this discussion about racism and being "racist". Humans are designed to be racist--we separate and categorize individuals and make quick judgments (this goes back to survival in the wilderness, if we see signs of a lion hidden in the bush, we run before we fully realize what it is). We are all racist (black, white, etc.).

Without indicating race, why not report his death like this: Trayvon Martin was a high school student who was shot and killed by a neighborhood watch ...

There, we can all think of him as the kid next door--someone we might know. Then maybe we can figure out better ways of making sure the next Trayvon won't be shot.

BTW that "racism" I experienced overseas? Turned the other cheek and didn't remember it until now. It was just some idiot and in no way reflected the broader population there.

learning korean is as easy as singing underwater!

Yes friends, let's remember: there ain't no mountain high enough that can keep me from studying my Korean grammar. Unless, I fall asleep reading the language books. But I keep this blog do in between to keep my mind refreshed. But you may wonder, how does one learn a foreign language? Here's how i do it:
Korean consists of Hangul (Korean writing), a collection of radicals which combine to form different sounds. I learned this by memorization and practice. No mystery there.
But all the words I learned by calling my friend named Johny Mnemonic (did anyone see/like that movie?) who helps save the day. For example, there is the word Nampyion in korean which means "husband". I remember this by thinking " ...the guy she's married to is the Champion from Nam"= Napyion. There you go. How about this one: we lope da = "lonlely" in korean. Well i think about eloping. and eloping can be lonely. There we go, it sticks! Here's a little tidbit inside my dirty mind, ojone pronounced /OJOAN/ means "am" in Korean. Maybe I end up in bed with a girl named Joan in the morning. What's the first thing I say? " Oh , Joan!" . of course. Now you try!

Screw it, lessons learned and other happy songs

These songs sing about me all the time. Take my students: Those little angels found my nest of chocolate and made good work. I bought a good 20 dollar bag and mistakingly left it in my closet in the english room i teach in. There are several students who clean that room after school when I am gone. These same intelectually driven philosophers took no time to make short work of that bag i had saved up for the less chocolate lusty, more participate in class type students who had to work hard to get that chocolate: they had to speak in my class in front of 30 odd peers in a classroom rooted in a society which sees the teacher as the sunlight and the students the maggots crawling around silently. What a chore for them! Anyway, back to the choloate fiends; guess what they did to my bag of chocolate? A rabid pack of monkeys would be harder pressed to lick clean a jar of peanuts any better than my students did my chocolate pouch.
I got the criminals to confess; but only partially. They bought me some more chocolate (not nearly enough to cover my losses) and I grabbed each by the arm and said: you're a bad boy!
I can almost hear Arnie scrambling to get me to fix his California prison system as I write this entry.

The next song will be about how a love struck Don Juan tied the apple of his eye to a desk with her shoelaces forcing me to untie her (wasting ten minutes) all the while new students coming in for the next class. And dammit, it was the after i clipped my nails! I found and scolded the boy. But that was nothing: Korean punishment at schools is no Sally meets Daisy type picnic. Later, he had to do pushups with his elbows in what I call "the fun room" with a scary looking ajoshi (older man form of address in Korean) counting the beads of sweat on the boy's back among other things.

Beware the man with the black bag!

.. because he will walk through all the subway trains and swing that bag back and forth, hitting everyone along the way. Yes friends, he is real. I call him the Bag Dad. And he's not going to let junior who is sitting, facing the window, waiting for his stop, remain unmolested.

One day I feel a big shove from behind (think: a moose butt butts into you). I look back and it's this guy with a big backpack. Seemingly, he makes contact with just about every person he can come next to. now this isn't the first time this has happened (or i would just shake it off as the odd coincidence). but it seems that people walk through many of the trains, going through crowded aisles of people already squashed to the limits, swinging that heavy backpack to and fro. The reason, is anyone's guess. The result: something akin to what you'd see on WWF , except with folding chairs in stead of Bag Dad's favorite weapon. Go get em sailor, see what's on the next train with that big bag of yours!

Seoul Seraching

There is a smell which belongs solely to Seoul (the place I live in). It can be identified by it's ability to grab your mind's attention away form whatever it was that it was enjoying and immediatlely introduce itself again and again. It is a smell which never fails to make me melancholy. On the plus side, it is least potent in winter, perhaps because the chilly air neutrilizes any sense of smell to begin with: it is winter now. On the plus side if there is one, it conceals any attempts at breaking wind from other parties, which such odor is utterly lost in what can only be described as the Seoul's far stronger influence on your nostrils.

A birthday party

Well what do you know. Birthday parties can still be fun, especially when it involves fire breathing English teachers (from the blazing shots) and all night romps on the town. What a crazy time that was. A friend (another English teacher) decided to drink a vodka shot which was on fire without bothering to put it out. A burst of flame spewed from his mouth and gust upon his onlooking friends. It was a sight I don't think I can easily forget. The rest of the birthday party was mundane enough. We eneded up at a karoke place, but I opted not to go and instead headed home for a little rest.

It's a bird, it's a plane no it's...

A green cross signal! Yes friends, I was walking around today and noticed people running in the opposite direction for no apparent reason. They were running like a flock of gazells being chased by a pugnacious lion snapping on their heels but when I looked back, I discovered the answer: the walk signal had turned green. Those things don't last long.

I wandered around the area known as Gwanghwamun and discovered a new pretty section which was nice. That is the fun of being in a large new city: so much to see, I couldn't see it all if I stayed only a few days.

It's gettin ga lot colder. Tomorrow is monday, which I don't dread, because I have two periods free in the morning to prepare for lessons. I will play the softball game with the teachers tomorrow too. we practiced a few times last week. Even the principal came out and hit a few balls around.