Tag: Middle school

My Cuore

If you look, you shall find. In my case, that little book by Edmondo de Amicis, translated of course.

It made an indelible impression on my little mind and heart. Years later, it still does. That is, after I have come in full circle, have travelled and traversed the geography of the heart. That “diary” genre though fictional, is more potent than Ann Frank‘s. To read it, you put on an Italian shoes of a school boy.

Bully, respect for others, compassion and empathy. Even patriotism (not trendy today).

To set this book, and its content, against the backdrop of school shooting, let’s say in Newtown, CT, or failed attempts else where, is to contrast night and day.

I went to French school. So this translated version must be one of those first Vietnamese books I read, besides Adventure of Tin Tin and The Three Musketeers.

In Cuore, you have enormous respect for the teaching vocation, and how it does take a village to bring up a boy. In our Facebook dominion, I am not sure how old values can fan out in cyber space. Do we bring old clothes to a poor classmate? Visit an old teacher (friending him?)

Subliminally, those values have triggered my many humanitarian action.

Now I trace back to its source, My cuore. Not the Italian heart, but  the human heart. It is translated into many languages, many outside the US. Perhaps it wouldn’t “sell” there. Not in the land of xtreme sports, female wrestling and lately, imported “girl with the Dragon tatoo”.

I rebloggd yesterday on Small is Still Beautiful. It was an old book from college. Today,  Cuore, an old book from Middle School. Both are still unpopular, yet both are still influential, to me. I hope you will at least wiki them, see what they have to say. The first book was Economics as if people matter. The second, we live among, with and for others. It is apt to coin the term Global Village, since we all go to school, get online and go home at the end of the day on Spaceship Earth. What if it is damaged, attacked or invaded?

We have enough resources, technologically, to solve human problems.

Now, do we have the courage and cuore to ennoble ourselves with bold action!

Be sure to bring some flowers

That voice which slows toward the end of the song as the chord changes:
“If you’re going to San Francisco…” accompanied by the 60’s signature tambourine, has died. But his one-hit wonder stays, perhaps more famous than the city itself.

It’s a state of mine. A period in history, with in-depth expose by Tom Hayden and Tom Brokaw. A new explanation and “a vibration” (today, we got “going viral” ). People in motion.  Keep moving. Keep evolving. Keep changing at the grass root level.

No one wanted to be “institutionalized” (One flew over the cuckoo’s nest). Individualism championed by groups and movement, ironically. Out of the box, out of the can.
We got Papillon, the Great Escape (both played by Steve McQueen, a San Francisco’s familiar face).  We got the ethos (youth), the prop (flower), the non-verbal greeting (peace symbol), the hair, the costume (Indian fashion) and an anthem.

I first heard the song right before Tet 68. School was closed due to the uprising throughout South Vietnam. With a lot of time in my hand, I practiced the guitar. San Francisco over House of the Rising Sun, Goodbye Yellow Brick Road over both.  The girls (older than I) were with flowers on their hair.

Later, when I had a chance to revisit Vietnam, I looked up an old classmate who had been paralyzed, When I played the guitar and sang for him, who lied motionless in bed,  he requested San Francisco (people in motion).

My friend was one of the “gentle people” I have met in my life. He is into poetry, music by Trinh Con Son (Vietnamese Bob Dylan). And he got paralyzed for rescuing some kids who were standing under a fallen iron gate.

People in motion, people in motion. But my friend has stayed immobile.

And the singer of that signature song has died.

Somehow, I don’t think it would end here. I know the spirit lives on, in San Francisco. People are passionate about the city, its livability, environment and ethos.  Legislation there is fierce and uncompromising when it comes to sustainability. After all, we want to see flowers grow there, along with civil liberty and civil rights.

Even so, be sure to bring (and wear) some flowers when you go there.

The Bay areas get nice weather, gentle people and lots of hills. I even ran a Bay-to-Bridge race once, just to take in the scene. And the Chinese New Year Parade there is the event not to be missed. That era, those street corners and the people once flocked there to search (for a new explanation) and share (laying foundation for today’s internet peering, open source, wikipedia and interoperability) under one huge umbrella: McKenzie’s San Francisco.

Heck, I was just trying to get to Middle School in Vietnam. And I just stopped short of wearing some flowers in my hair. Instead, we settled for those flower stickers, along with the peace symbol, despite living at the height of the war. RIP Scotty.

My left eye

A speck of dust hit my left eye.

It’s all red and feels painful.

Then I thought of my friend from Junior High.

He was drafted and went to war.

Just to come back with one eye left.

We have hung out at cafe, more than any other classmate since that time.

Just a few nights ago, I said goodbye to him before he went back States.

I can relate to his condition just now: he has seen and will continue see his world with only half his vision.

However, it’s he who has been in better spirits than I.

His memories serve him better than most people.

A black-belt in Tai Kwan Do, he manages to live independently for years before getting married  late in life.

Even after surviving a stroke, he still carries himself with full optimism.

I guess when you have less to see with, you filter less, hence see more.

In 11 years since we reconnected, I have heard not a self-pity word out of his mouth.

The funny thing is, those who have never been in the battle field bragged about it more.

Until they come face to face with his fake eye. Those with one mouth and two eyes decide to speak less and see more.

For me, one’s full body parts are irrelevant when it comes to friendship. Just shared time and shared memories.

We accept each other, taking turn at talking. Our group have music and movies lovers. We were not into power or the struggle for it. I wish for him safe passage and quick jet-lag recovery. Since he paid for our coffee last Monday, the next time it will be on me.

My left eye, although hurt, yet helps me appreciate  my friend more. Better than other days, when I got both eyes but saw less. (We can now fade in Lennon‘s Oh My Love…for the first time in my life, my eyes can see).

Summer setback

That summer in Jr High, I experienced a setback: Hapkido went wild, leaving me with a broken arm.

The Kung Fu Hall already had my parents’ release, so even if it had been the fault of the visiting Red-Belt Master (who held up the brick, but moved it unexpectedly when it’s my turn to kick), we couldn’t say a word. All my fault!

So I stayed indoor most of that summer: learning English phrases and reflecting on my class yearbook.

I envisioned life not as a straight line (not like Champ Elyse), but quite twist and turn, hard to see around the bend.

I also knew that my friends and I would make choices we later regret (clearly my attempt at Kung Fu still stared at me, heavy in cast, itchy and with hair ).

I promised myself that whatever happens around the bend, I still see them as they once were: innocent, a bit naive and full of energy.

40 years later, I got to see what’s around the bend.

I ran into some of them: neither innocent, nor full of energy.

Nevertheless, I listen and take in what 4 decades did to a young junior high friend: regime collapse triggered a chain of unintended consequences (for both of us). For him, it meant failed attempt at escape, imprisonment and finally orderly departure with the help of his sister (way to go girl).

Now, we still “ping-pong” in our conversation about deficit and surplus.

I detected hidden intelligence and determination despite my friend’s lack of higher education. After all, we were the selected few for that high school.

The IQ scores are still there. In fact, his setback and mine has strengthened our resolves. For him, it offered such an unmatched springboard and deeper frame of reference. For me, a summer setback (an eternity at that age) which has turned into a lifelong pursuit of learning.

I never look at someone without assuming his/her best intention. If a broken arm caused me a summer setback, it gave me something better in return: the ability to bounce back, to heal and to see in others the pain they might have gone through, albeit not a physical pain.

In retrospect, what one projected into the future was quite powerful.

It’s called visualization. In my case, I knew I couldn’t see around the bend (of time). But I knew then as now, that life is unpredictable. Growing up witnessing the burning monk, starting school late because of Tet 68, only confirmed that someday, when I see my friends again, not only I would greet them with warmest of hearts, but also, rejoice in that we are alive still.

Setbacks make us stronger, just like muscles that got ripped when we exercised. Talking of which, I have stayed away, far away, from the Kung Fu Hall ever since. Instead of muscles, I dwell into higher learning. The body will someday waste away, but a man with clarity of mind and purity of heart remains forever.

Summer setback was my painful lesson in overcoming adversity.

I did not ask for it. But the unintended consequence is the ability to absorb disappointment and bounce back from it. No setback, no success.

Act 2

At the gym, I couldn’t help notice two guys with Mountain-Dew T-shirt. We can still have “black swan” scenario in our life time e.g. the US rises again from the depth of deficit (muscle memory), or someday a Hispanic president will seek a M&A with Mexico (will not be the first time the US offer to buy more territory).

When we went through Y2K (getting plenty of water and batteries) we anticipated worst case scenario. People said this has been a Lost Decade. Now, that the worst has been behind us, let’s buy some champagne and balloons.

The challenges of the past decade have steeled our resilience but at the same time diminished our faith in institutions.

While tragedy comes in pairs (two recessions, twin towers, two disasters in Louisiana), luck will also come in pairs. Look at what Web 2.0 has given us: friends from Facebook, free videos from YouTube and millions of Who’s who on LinkedIn. The list goes on and on, as one tweet begets another in this 4-G, 3-D, 24/7 always-on world.

As we defy gravity by going to the “cloud”, our experience will grow much richer

All of our investment in hardware finally pay back with an abundance of software options albeit cases like Iridium, Concorde etc…

Our global village will show case Best of the Best. Stay tuned. The next decade will unleash apps from 20 years old’s who are now in Middle School (Yahoo just bought  Tumblr, and now eying Hulu). The sooner they are bored with texting the better. New toys for tots will spill over as Act 2 for the rest of us (Act 1 being the Ipod, Ipad, mobile apps like Twitter, Social Network such as Facebook). With an audience of 7 billion, any content will be devoured in an instant.

Build it and they will come. Level 3 must have looked deep into the crystal ball. Without the likes, we wouldn’t have Netflix as is. Clusters of innovation all converged in our time while adoption rate has never been quicker.

Instead of shopping for batteries, I will go for balloons and instead of water, champagne.