Tag: Harrisburg Pennsylvania

Losing one’s self

In a recent NYT op-ed, David Brooks summed up prevailing graduation themes: find yourself, live to the fullest, be passion-focused etc.. instead of losing yourself in solving others’ problem. Even my kid knows that time passes more quickly when you are absorbed in a task.

When you lose yourself, you end up finding it.

Before graduating, I took up an internship at an ABC affiliate in Scranton, PA.  At the time, it had a huge dump for abandoned cars. Mount Pocono was not too far away. Often times, the only news in town was trash workers’ strike, which I helped cover with passion.

Then, we were sent to Harrisburg to follow a lead on a nuclear power p accident. Before I knew it, I was held up for days, learning more about broadcasting than I could ever learn in 4 years.

I never went back to Beaver Stadium to receive my diploma. But I did get my badge of life. After the experience of working for nothing, but learning everything, I went on to make three rounds of volunteer overseas to lose myself again and again (all along acquiring the sense of place, of cultures and social webs.)

He who is no fool to lose that which he cannot keep, to gain that which he cannot lose.

From there, I found my modus operandi: work hard, play hard, and work some more (adrenaline producer).

Schools are so structured and protective. The institutions are built on a foundation of learning, character building and self/status-preserving. Students aren’t encouraged to take risks, much less think out-of-the-box (occasionally, they brought in speakers from “outside”, but the script remains the same: conformity).

I hung out with a group of well-meaning students: wholesome and healthy (Get Together, Kum By Ya).  But life outside of campus is quite off-script. On campus, Joe Paterno might be our “God“, Raymond Brown, another one (Penn State Choir), but the Trinity in real life, I found out, were gold, silver and green.

It’s hard to convince people to think critically and carry on intelligent discussions without screaming, attacking and holding a personal vendetta.

At work, instead of collaborating, I found clique after clique.

In school, I forgot that I was non-white. In life, they make sure I am reminded of it.

So, to recent grads: keep losing yourself that you may find it.

Other people may know some parts of you better than yourself. So, to fully discover yourself, you will have play sport-contact against life’s jagged edges.

One day, hopefully sooner than later, you will come to a sudden realization that you are not the center of the universe, and that not every one accepts and loves you unconditionally as your mom and dad have (I use present tense for you, but past tense for me).  And the most you can elicit from strangers are like a line in a Chicago album “does anybody know what time it is”.

Life is difficult. Life in post-Recession era is even more difficult.

The only way to survive this downturn is to charge out of the gate, ready to give yourself completely away without hope of a return. Surprise the world with your Camelot zeal . Ask not…..Infect others with your enthusiasm and passion.

We need your strong muscles and your radiant smile.

I love those who pulled all-night going over text books. Now get ready for lengthier and thornier book of life.

It’s only just begun. Ironically the beginning was at the end, the way Orientals flip their books. Counter-prevailing as it is, David Brooks has a point. So was T.S. Elliot.

Kindness of strangers

Years ago, my roommate invited me over for Thanksgiving.

The ride from Penn State to Lancaster was a long but memorable one.

It’s predominantly Amish there. And I remember discussing with his Dad about
“Turning East” by Harvey Cox (the subject I took that summer).

Years have gone by. While Western consciousness has yet turned East, its consumption certainly has.

We are having China Head of State over for a visit while a few years ago, Nobel prize has been awarded to his jailed dissident.

I couldn’t even imagine the scenario myself over cranberry sauce and sweet potato back then.

The take away: season comes and season goes. But the kindness displayed to strangers at that table wasn’t going to fade away that easily. I read somewhere that PA was one of the States in the Union where people tend to stay put (less internal migration).

Harrisburg was having a hard time paying its bills.

I was there, wiring the tiny microphone on Governor Thornburgh to record an interview during the Three-Mile-Island crisis.

Harrisburg was where I first landed in America. Harrisburg was also my last stop upon graduation. My first few months there in the camp, I volunteered to go to court with unaccompanied minors, helping them as an interpreter. All of them

eventually got placed in suitable foster homes, and enjoyed many Thanksgiving dinners in Pennsylvania.

For me, just that one dinner in Amish country. It’s cold by my standard.

Autumn foliage struck me as picture perfect. And the aroma of the bird to be carved stuck with me for a long time.

My roommates went on to do great things (they were graduate students at the time)

such as professorship in Africa and Vermont.

Not once did they laugh at my remedial reading (I read “Catcher in the Rye” etc…. to make up for not attending high school here in the States).

That dinner filled me not only with everything a Lancaster farm had to offer, but also with a critical piece to understand America: the strength of a pilgrim community e.g. barn-raising party, stuck together through thick and thin, sharing gifts from the wild, a tradition brokered by the Native American. Latest studies on human motivation reveals what long been felt: we are most motivated when we seek to help others. The act of kindness might surprise both the giver and receiver.

I observe today that the drinking-water supplier put out front free water for passerby. This act of goodwill I am sure not will not be gone unnoticed. (in fact, lottery ticket vendors stop by every time to fetch a needed drink). Doing good and doing well.

The strength of a nation has always been measured by how it treats its weakest link. not the propaganda on the DoS website. That trip was one of my most memorable  pilgrims in America, of course, with Apple pie for desert.

First love

First day of  my kid’s summer. First day of  being a FT Mr Mom.

It happens! I reflect on Summer 75 when I was looking forward to resettling in Central Pennsylvania.

America, Land of the Free. Back then, I was sure the nation was still in a state of shock, and perhaps was relieved that

I wish I could hang on to that  first-love moment for this country.

Everything at the time smelled strange and was hard to categorize: from the Pennsylvania meadow to Fall foliage, and onto snow flakes and snow frosts,

the perpetuating soft rock music on the radio. American should learn to love its land and ideals all over again.

From the kindness of strangers for a foreign student potluck dinner to a  coffee refill at the Corner Room.

How about just a “hello”, because we are all here today, gone tomorrow: American or Amish.

Let’s make this ride a memorable one. Long or short, it matters who you are riding with and how you enjoy his/her presence. Even the De Niro character  (a bounty hunter) could finally appreciate his apprehended accountant at the end of Midnight Train. First love was special because it came around once, and graced us with lasting memories. BTW, the perpetual song on the radio those days that sticks out was “I will never fall in love again.”