I have never been one to stand purposely in the limelight. These days I often advertise, without a pang of regret, that I'm a banana - yellow on the outside, and white on the inside. After being made in Taiwan in 1977, dwelling there seemed abbreviated compared to the time I have freeloaded here in the US. It's simple math really - 24 (years in the US) is greater than five (years in Taiwan). About seven months ago, I set out on this journey to lose some of this banana complex if you will. Elementary Chinese I and II have increased my ability to read and write my native language. Although it has put a dent in my checking account, my mind has not queried the validity of such reasoning to better myself in the language that will saliently worm itself into many mainstream cultures. To this day, I still feel a bit remorseful for the way I eschewed my parent's request to learn Chinese when I was a little boy. Back then, the only educating that occupied my mind was learning the English language; along with that also came these two little Spanish kids teaching me words that weren't so kind to Mexican restaurant employees. But I was "fitting in," so all was well. I could've taken the Chinese classes and showed a modicum of gratitude to my parents for bringing me out of the hardships in Taiwan, but alas, my close-minded thinking and infamous stubbornness wore on them like chili does to weak-eaters. Not to mention the fact that learning a language comes so much easier at an earlier age. My hope is that I didn't come across as an ingrate to my parents during those formidable years. But I fear my lack of interest may have etched a marked blunder on the mental vignette they had of me.
About a month and a half ago, my professor sneakingly approached me before class to hand me this envelope. I thought it was a recommendation for a local business that was seeking fluent Chinese speakers to man their international calls. She had mentioned weeks prior that this opportunity, if pursued, would aid the overall experience of learning this Herculean language. Instead, I found an invitation to "Florida State University's Department of Modern Languages and Linguistics Annual Awards Banquet and Ceremony." Whilst puzzled with this bit of news for the entire class, I didn't want to advertise this to any of my peers lest they tease the "native" speaker for potentially getting an award. I mean the cheese level of this entire predicament had the potential of being a full-on tragic event - maybe even catastrophic. Nothing short of drama here, my friends.
So for the next few weeks I contemplated back and forth on whether I should attend such a function. First off, the obvious caution flag for me would be that I absolutely abhor the idea of social events; especially ones where I know very few people. For me, it really is like pulling nails...except that after the nails are pulled off, one would scrape the raw and tender flesh with a file to increase the pain that much more. Not the most inviting mental imagery I must say, but hopefully you can appreciate what a dreadful deed it is for me to socialize amongst any good-sized crowd. Perhaps it's not the end of the world, or as bad as I'm delineating...I just feel that chit-chat or small talk can be so laboriously mind-numbing. I yearn for those quality one-on-one conversations where the subject of jobs, weather, and geographic origination are bypassed post-haste. Because what it boils down to is that the person asking me all of those "scripted" questions will only remember me for as long as it takes to say, "strange strategic statistics." Go on, say that fast, five times. Hmmm...maybe it's a bit longer than I'm imagining. But I digress...
Another roadblock that presented itself to me attending this function was the whole award thing itself. Aside from being a bit embarrassed that I was to receive a possible award for learning a language that I was a already fluent in, I really had no clue what my professor was nominating me for. I was pretty convinced that an "attendance award" was plausible, but again the cheese factor thing came in to play. I guess in college - the land of skipping classes due to laziness - attending every single class is an aberrant and noble thing. It's sad, but I can't be 100% sure that I had perfect attendance in any of my classes during my tenure at FSU. The past two semesters, I missed a total of two classes: One for a co-worker's funeral; and the other was for my grandmother's funeral out in CA. It's not a big deal really. I mean, it's nice to leave work for an hour or so and learn a language...and it really was genuinely fun (not the homework and studying). Moreover, I had spent some hard-earned (relatively speaking) money on these classes - not going would've been an absolute moronic thing to do.
So...I ultimately attended this
I'd like to add my $.02 to this whole baby thing. I really think it's lame when my co-workers bring their newborns around to show off. If I hear them coming down the hall, I'll exit my office to save myself from having to pretend like I think their babies are the cutest thing to come into this world since I did (OK, maybe not?). Anyways, I'm tired of people using the same "awwws" every time they see a newborn. I'm sorry, but newsflash people: All babies are not made equal. Meaning, by default, they are not cute. I've seen my share of "U-GLEE" babies floatin' around. Puppies and kittens on the otherhand, are always cute. Moving on...
So I get there and the professor tells me that I'm late (my professor is "Captain Obvious" by night) and that they skipped over the Chinese department since there weren't enough recipients in attendance. My plan flew out the window at that point. I was trapped in this predicament of having to stay and actually having to go up in front of everyone to receive this mystery award. There were probably 150 to 200 people squished into this room. About 1/4 of the people had to stand. Furthermore, a silent vapidity filled the air in prominent fashion. They went through all of the other languages before coming back to Chinese. Could there have been more of a penalty for showing up late? I guess I learned my lesson. As evidenced in the pic below, I was the recipient for the Chinese department's "Outstanding Undergraduate" for this past school year (even though I'm a graduate - go figure). I was very honored but at the same time baffled because there's this entire slew of people that could've been chosen instead of me. Why pick the boy who looks Chinese, is Chinese, and speaks Chinese? I told my professor that I was a bit embarrassed to receive this award, and asked why she didn't pick someone of Caucasian descent. She told me to not feel that way and that she truly felt I was most deserving of the award. According to her, my dialogue partner learned a lot faster than most of the others in the class. And allegedly, I learned the writing aspect of the language really quick and well. I guess in a way I still feel someone would've benefited more by receiving this award. In retrospect, I have been humbled by learning my language these past seven months. I really don't want to imagine how hard it would've been for me to learn it without having any prior knowledge. I had a tough enough time with reading and writing sans grammatical structures and pronunciation of words.
The purpose of this entire entry is not to gloat or advertise my achievements in this language. I really hope I didn't convey that message. If I did, I apologize. Being humble is one of those ongoing struggles in life. It has become clearer to me over the years that humility comes in many facets amid defeats and victories. Yes, I learned how to read and write Chinese better these past two semesters. I stepped out of my dormant stage of being trapped in the 8:30 - 5:00 work cycle to take on something that would hopefully better myself. Or maybe even perhaps give up the free time I would've had if I hadn't been writing, reading, and studying. With the proper amount of perspective, all of those things don't seem to matter much to me. What struck me was the parallel I drew to how Jesus served people when He was here on Earth.
In the midst of reacquainting myself to being a student, I learned how I could be a vessel for Christ's commission. To serve others while getting to know Him on a personal level. I'm thankful that I went to the awards banquet thingy. Not because I received recognition in front of my peers (or strangers if you like), but because of the moment I shared with my professor when she told me that I helped another student learn the language better. One can't deny the splendid feeling of being of some use in this world. I was so glad that I saw the real reasoning in why God placed me in these classes. He showed me how awesome it was to be used for His kingdom when we're not even aware of it. I think that's almost the essence of my walk with Christ. To do out love for Him, and not out of obligation. I was merely serving because that's all I knew how to do and all I had to give in those classes. Granted, it wasn't a revelation of epic proportions, but it served as a moment in my life where I grasped an understanding of what it means to serve while walking hand-in-hand with Jesus. I've been so incredibly blessed these past couple of seasons. My newfound interest in bike riding and spending time with God has opened up this portal to seeing and hearing Him in this new and very real way. I'm convinced that without the 750 miles that have been logged since August, many of the things He's been wanting to teach me would've never registered with me. All this time I wanted to be more Chinese, the Potter's Hand was molding this insipid spiritual life into something that would be pleasing to Him. And that's something worth standing up and being proud of. Lord, help me to always wait and see Your light...so that when I stand, it'll be under Your grace and providence...
~KH
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