For anyone still visiting...we're off on a new adventure...

I haven't blogged here in so long I can't even remember the last time I've been here! But, as it turns out, we're starting a new adventure that warranted its own blog, so I'll be posting there primarily in the weeks and months to come, and largely continuing to ignore this blog site! Feel free to go check it out the other blog if you are curious!

Dave Gibbons On Church Culture, Leadership, and Change!

Dave Gibbons, lead pastor of NewSong Church, has recently written a book on leadership called The Monkey and the Fish: Liquid Leadership for a Third-Culture Church (Zondervan). He graciously agreed to answer a few questions about this topic for me to post on this blog, so if you are interested in the topic of church, leadership, and change, read on! Great insights here from Dave, as always...

Q: What are the leadership and church structures that most hinder change in institutions such as the church, and what are alternative ways to meeting and leading that help a church be more flexible and able to adapt to the needs of today's culture?

The leadership structures that hinder change in the church typically are the ones that that tend to be more preservation homogeneous and comfort oriented. It’s hard to adapt when everyone is alike. Differences spur and catalyze change. Furthermore, the more centralized and old an institution is the more it tends to be safe and slow. Comfort and influence seem to get more important than Cause and innovation.

Churches can become more flexible as they see and practice some of these things:

1. Embrace that it’s not an option.

God calls us to love our neighbors. Someone different than us. Someone that we would even hate. The Christian community loves the Word of God so if they can see it they can be obedient.

2. Pursue intersections of culture.

Studies show that the cross pollination of different sectors, domains, occupations, cultures fosters creativity and innovation. So in leadership, the blend of women and men, young and old, and multiple ethnic cultures will actually create an ethos of change. When one lives in this environment you change or you die.

3. Live in other cultures.

As you spend real time with those different than you whether it’s race, culture, socio-economic, and those you would not get along with, God changes you. Iron sharpens iron. You meet Jesus in the midst of those you consider the least.

4. Pray that God would break your heart with the things that break His heart.

As you walk your city, pray this dangerous prayer.

Helen, these are just a few things to start the journey.

Q. Are all churches meant to become third-culture?

Yes, I believe if we are all called to “love our neighbors” absolutely. Third culture is rooted in this purpose for the church. To painfully adapt by loving, learning and serving the other in our midst. The issue often is the context of the people group, and the calling, willingness to obey and the capacity of the leaders.

Q. How realistic is this for the vast majority of evangelical churches that largely reside in monoethnic settings?

It’s definitely the work of the Holy Spirit! To ask people to enter into pain and suffering, eat foods they don’t like, hang out with people that make you uncomfortable is counter-cultural. I would say the key is for the one who does get it to start living out the third culture life. Personally, before the movement became church-wide, I felt God telling me I had to live it out more intentionally. So my family and I moved out to Bangkok. It starts with leadership and prayer. As one engages real suffering and poverty, clarity emerges.

Q. In those cases, how critical is it that they find ways to intentionally reach across ethnic/regional lines to become more third-culture in nature? What are the ramifications of not doing so?

If we don’t live out the third culture life, we miss out on loving God. I see the two primary commandments of loving God and loving our neighbor as one coin but two different sides. If you can’t love your neighbor, it means you don’t love God. If you love God, you love your neighbor. This theological motif is further affirmed with the book of 1 John. It’s about obedience albeit uncomfortable and extremely difficult at times.

The ramifications of not becoming third culture, you die spiritually. When one misses out on loving the other, they miss out on knowing what it is to love God. They don’t fulfill the purposes of why we’re on this earth.

State Mottos: What I Never Knew Before!

So this is a silly little post about something I'm finding quite fascinating. I recently purchased a Melissa & Doug USA Map Puzzle, in hopes that our kids end up with a much better sense of geography than I have, and on the back of the map is listing of important facts about each state, including each state's motto. I never knew most of these mottos, and found a number of them to be quite hilarious. They cover a vast range of length, tone, content, and style. The bottom part of the list features those mottos that could use a rewrite, IMHO:

Mottos You've Probably Heard Before--

• In God We Trust (Florida)
• United We Stand, Divided We Fall (Kentucky)
• Live Free or Die (New Hampshire)
• Thus Always to Tyrants (Virginia)
  

Religious/Inspirational Mottos--

• God Enriches (Arizona)
• Nothing Without Providence (Colorado)
• The Life of the Land is Perpetuated in Righteousness (Hawaii)
• To the Stars Through Difficulties (Kansas)
• Ever Upward (New York)
• With God, All Things Are Possible (Ohio)
• While I Breathe I Hope (South Carolina)
• Under God the People Rule (South Dakota)
• North to the Future (Alaska)
• Labor Conquers All Things (Oklahoma)
• Hope (Rhode Island)
• Friendship (Texas)
• Forward (Wisconsin)
  

Patriotic/Legal/Military Mottos--

• We Dare Defend Our Rights (Alabama)
• The People Rule (Arkansas)
• Liberty and Independence (Delaware)
• State Sovereignty, National Union (Illinois)
• Liberties and Rights (Iowa)
• By the Sword We Seek Peace (Massachusetts)
• Valor and Arms (Mississippi)
• Welfare of the People Shall Be the Supreme Law (Missouri)
• All for Our Country (Nevada)
• Equality Before the Law (Nebraska)
• Liberty and Prosperity (New Jersey)
• Liberty and Union (North Dakota)
• Virtue, Liberty, Independence (Pennsylvania)
• Freedom and Unity (Vermont)
• Equal Rights (Wyoming)
• Wisdom, Justice, Moderation (Georgia)
• Union, Justice, Confidence (Louisiana)
  

The Amusing, Confusing, Vague, Uninspiring:

• I Have Found It (California)
• He Who Transplanted Still Sustains (Connecticut)
  
• It Is Forever (Idaho)
• Crossroads of America (Indiana)
• I Direct (Maine)
• If you Seek a Pleasant Peninsula, Look About You (Michigan)
• The North Star (Minnesota)
• Gold and Silver (Montana)
• It Grows as It Goes (New Mexico)
  
• To Be Rather Than To Seem (North Carolina)
• She Flies With Her Own Wings (Oregon)
• Agriculture and Commerce (Tennessee)
• Industry (Utah)
• Bye and Bye (Washington)
• Mountaineers Are Always Free (West Virginia)

And from my hometown state, a truly distinctive motto:

• Manly Deeds, Womanly Words (Maryland)

I shall refrain from comment!

What I Learned from the Worst.Vacation.Ever

There is just no way around this statement: Christmas break we went to Phoenix on what can only be described as the Worst.Vacation.Ever. EVER. I should have known that we were off to a bad start when we managed to leave one of our carry-on bags at home, the one with all the vitally important items that we did not want to risk sending through to baggage claim (i.e., Aidan's Mr. Bear; cameras, laptop, documents, etc.) We gathered with Brian's family (parents, his brother/sister-in-law/22-month old son) and even my parents came and joined us for a few days. Brian's brother and sister-in-law found us a great house to rent in Scottsdale, with a jaw-dropping kitchen and a lovely Zen-like fountain spilling over landscaped rocks in the small but beautifully-designed backyard. Should have been a wonderful time. But then, a couple of days after we arrived, the following events occurred in quick succession: 1) the two youngest family members suddenly started throwing up; 2) within a day, five out of the seven adults began to exhibit the same symptoms; 3) Brian suffered a mild concussion on top of the stomach ailment; 4) we visited the ER on three separate occasions; 5) Aidan had to undergo two IV insertions to combat dehydration. I saw none of the sights of Scottsdale except for the insides of two hospitals and pharmacies/Target/WalMart in search of appropriate medicines, food, and liquids to combat all the ailments.

After we came back, we were often asked the question, "How was your vacation?" Normally, I would have just given the typical quick, easy response. "Fine, good, great." Not this time. I started telling people it was the Worst.Vacation.Ever. Which of course prompted questions and comments and a conversation about the whole experience. But after this happened a couple of times, my DH (as in, Dear Husband) chided me for being so negative. "The kids don't see it that way," he pointed out. "You're ruining their fun by talking about the trip in those terms."

This fact was confirmed for me recently when a church friend of ours who taught Jason this past Sunday emailed me to tell me about his recollections from our trip. Apparently he said that he had a great time in Phoenix and even wants to go back and live there forever. Which is quite amazing since he caught the same stomach bug as everyone else, the first time he's had stomach flu, in fact, and spent the majority of our time there lying comatose on the couch with a Tupperware container by his side.

Kids are the consummate optimists, I have learned. Even when I could only think of words such as "miserable" and "stressful" to describe our "vacation", they found joy in simple things, such as the wonder of seeing water flowing down a small mound of rocks in the backyard, or in a novel experience, such as visiting an unfamiliar children's museum, or in the unextraordinary, such as the appearance of the sun and spring-like warmth just as we were preparing to depart.

I used to think of myself as an optimist, but sometimes in the everyday, draining experience of life largely at home, I find myself being anything but. Perhaps it's time to try to recapture some of that optimism again, no matter how dire a situation seems to be. It probably would do me some good to keep the perspective of a child in mind and embrace the truth that for my kids, Phoenix actually was a fun, exciting, enjoyable time. So the next time someone asks me how our Christmas vacation went, I will try to remember that for my kids, it was actually the Best Vacation Ever. (That having been said, I would be lying if I told you I wanted to go to Phoenix again any time soon!)

Why I Shed a Tear...More Than One, Actually

Last night, I watched Barack Obama emerge before more than 100,000 of his adoring fans in Chicago, embracing his new mantle as the 44th President of the United States. His face expressed a mixture of joy, relief, and humility, and something about the moment moved me, as I unexpectedly shed a couple of tears. Then as I continued to watch this watershed moment, the floodgates opened, and I was weeping like a baby.

I'm not a lifelong Democrat, or a Democrat at all. I've been solidly Independent for as long as I've been old enough to vote. I wasn't one of those people who jumped onto the Obama bandwagon early on and have been pushing forward with relentless passion to this point in history. Although I did vote for him, I did so with reservations about a number of his policies and positions. So what on earth was the cause of my waterworks, which totally took me by surprise?

What I found myself thinking about most of all was my children, and what this moment in history means for them. Seeing the image of Barack Obama, with the words "President" underneath his face, (even thinking of it now brings tears to my eyes), I became deeply emotional. I'm still trying to understand why, but I believe I was overcome by what this moment in history symbolizes; I was also in part stirred by the idea of a man of color being chosen by a majority of U.S. citizens to lead our nation.

I did not vote for Obama due to his race, but now that he has been chosen, I cannot deny the fact that as a minority in this country, for me this election embodies the achievement of so many ideals that I have longed to see in the world my kids live in, ideals that I now believe may actually happen in their lifetime. Ideals such as a nation where the color of one's skin does not produce accompanying prejudices from others; a nation (and world) in which ethnic differences are appreciated and affirmed, and not a cause for separation, discrimination, or worse, violence; a world where our common bonds as human beings helps us to cooperate and make progress in combating some of the significant tragedies and injustices of our time. My tears reflected so many different feelings and thoughts: gratitude at the privilege of living in a democratic society; amazement at how profound these election results truly are; and mostly, hope and optimism about the future.

In the days leading up to the election, my 1st grader Jason had been walking around the house chanting, "O-ba-ma! O-ba-ma!" In the mock election at his elementary school yesterday, Obama won in a landslide. I asked him why he wanted to root for Obama, and he replied, "Because he is African-American!" So I pressed further, and asked him what it means to be African-American. He said, "It means that you are smart!" Of course all generalizations, positive or negative, leave something to be desired. But how extraordinary is it that a whole generation of young people, due to seeing Obama in the role of President, will default to a position of believing that people of color have so much to offer the world, rather than automatically assuming the worst?

I know my meager attempt at trying to explain my reaction to the election will inadequately express the meaning of it, the impact of it, the historic nature of it. I'm just thrilled beyond measure to have been able to witness and participate in what I'm sure will be a defining moment for America. I feel humbled and grateful in ways that words cannot fully explain right now. And in what may be bad news for my Canadian husband, I do not want to miss what is to come here in the United States. Who would want to live elsewhere right now?

"I Am a Real American!!!"

Jason came home the other day and said that another student had told him he was not born in America. I tried not to overreact but I was definitely gritting my teeth. Even in this day and age, we live in a country where people assume that "American" equals "Caucasian." Obviously this is more true in some parts of the country than others, and I would probably have been less annoyed if this had happened in rural Iowa where Jason was born (making him, indeed, a natural born citizen!). But we are in the suburbs of a major metropolitan area, one in which nearly 20% of the high schoolers at the two secondary schools in town are Asian American. And still, other kids look at my son and think, "foreigner."

I calmly told Jason to tell anyone who says this in the future that "yes, I was born in America, and so was my mom!" (Stopped there because it gets complicated with his dad--born in S. Korea, immigrated to Canada at age 3, so better to just stick with telling other kids about me!) I tried to impress upon him that if anyone should try to make the ridiculous claim that Jason is not an American, he should state in no unclear terms that he is just as American as anyone else.

My husband, who admits to watching WWF when he was a kid, taught our boys a little bit of the Hulk Hogan theme song, the words for which go in part as follows:

I am a real American, fight for what's right, fight for your life!

(After which Hogan proceeds to rip his shirt off. Yep, hubby taught them that part, too!)

It's all in fun but there is a serious identity point that we are trying to establish in our boys, that no matter what other people may say to them, that they are 100% American (as well as being 100% Korean). And who knows, one day their assertion that this is so may indeed lead to a fight to defend themselves as being an American, although I certainly hope this never is the case. But reading blogs like angryasianman.com that highlight hate crimes against Asian American men in particular certainly does not ease the mind of an Asian American parent (especially one with three little boys!)

It also doesn't help that we live in a culture where even major media establishments persist in promoting the idea that Korean Americans are foreigners. Just yesterday, CNN posted an article called "Korean Americans and the Election" on its site. It was a video article, full of interviews with "Korean Americans" when the more accurate description would have been to say that the interviews were with largely 1st generation Korean Americans (my parents' generation), none of whom on the video could speak English well or without an accent. (I cannot find the link right now otherwise I would post it.)

Korean Americans are not just foreigners with allegiance to another country aside from the USA. More of us have been born and bred here in the U.S. and speak perfect English, thank you! Sorry if I sound so indignant but although we are in the 21st century, sometimes it feels as though the country is still stuck in some woebegone era. This might be a historic time in which a half-African American man may soon make it to the White House, but racial discrimination and misunderstanding is far from being eradicated here in the US.

And for another thing? This is a total non-sequitur but can people stop calling Tiger Woods African American? The man has the following ethnic makeup: he is one quarter Chinese, one quarter Thai, one quarter African American, one eighth Native American, and one eighth Dutch. Doing the math, he is half Asian American. Only one quarter African American. Somehow the news media never gets this reality. Woods has been quoted as saying that his ethnic makeup doesn't really make much difference to him, that "the bottom line is that I am an American...and proud of it." While I hope my kids embrace and appreciate their ethnic identity a little more than Tiger appears to, I hope for the same result, that they fully acknowledge and understand that they are American as well as Asian, and that they carry no shame or embarrassment for being anything other than what they have been created to be ethnically. That's a mouthful/earful to comprehend at this point, so perhaps the best I can hope for is that they keep singing "I am a real American" and pretending to tear their shirts off. Tattered clothing notwithstanding, it's not a bad place to start.

Playground Politics

As far as I can recall, my memories of school recess hold no major traumas or sore spots. So I was surprised to discover recently that Jason has been experiencing a challenging time with a classmate during these daily breaks. Being in first grade, Jason has the "privilege" of now attending recess two times a day, which he was initially looking forward to. But then the first few days of school, Jason would say that he had no one to play with, as everyone was busy playing with other people. (Apparently, the apple does not fall far from the tree; with two introverted parents, I suppose it was inevitable that our kids would experience social challenges of one sort or another!) Knowing Jason's temperament, and his tendency to want to be invited instead of taking initiative with other kids, we gently encouraged him to jump into whatever other kids were playing instead of waiting to be asked. The second week of school, he began to list a group of boys that he was consistently playing with--"A., S., and C."--and we were glad that he had seemed to find a social niche to call his own.

But more recently, I noticed that whenever I'd ask him who he was playing with, the answer was no longer "A., S., and C." The group had whittled down to just "C." Moreover, Jason was beginning to describe the interactions in troubling terms. "C. tells me that I can't play with anyone else," "C. forces me to do things I don't want to do, and if I don't want to, he just keeps forcing me and forcing me," "C. pushes me when I don't do what he wants." This didn't sound like the healthy, carefree recess interactions I imagined he'd be having!

We raised the issue with Jason's teacher, and she agreed that inappropriate behavior was going on here. She was wonderful, took initiative right away, and gave us some insights into the mind and behavior of 1st graders--that they can socially be very territorial and possessive, perhaps a result of suddenly being thrust into a 6 1/2 hour school day, and yet they are often clumsy relationally, and need to be guided in the process of proper socialization. We are hoping that this isn't a foreshadowing of difficult times for Jason to come.

It was also difficult to know how to instruct Jason to react to C.'s aggression and possessiveness. We told him to stand up for himself, to speak strongly and assert himself, and if absolutely necessary, to push back. Turns out we gave him bad advice. His teacher made it clear in no uncertain terms that Jason must not push back, and in reading more on the subject, today's consensus on dealing with bullies is that it does no good to respond back in the same manner, although fighting back might have been the preferred method when we were children. But with today's "no tolerance" policies the victim is just as likely to get in trouble as the bully. Apparently the best answer is to get a teacher if the situation escalates, so that's what we've now told Jason to do.

We wonder how much the seemingly simple issue of age has to do with all this. With a late summer birthday, Jason is one of the youngest in his class, and a combination of age plus probably genes has resulted in his being one of the smaller kids in his class (the fact that South Koreans are 3" taller than their North Korean counterparts notwithstanding!). He just recently turned 6, whereas one of his classmates who is also a bit of a troublemaker and who has already picked on Jason a number of times turned 7 just a month ago. This makes us wonder if we should have "redshirted" Jason, but honestly, I don't know what I would have done with him another year at home. I think he would have been bored out of his mind! We are also considering this same issue with Aidan, who was born even later in the summer than Jason. He would make the September 1 cutoff date for being old enough to start kindergarten with just days to spare; I confess to being pleased about this when I was first told he would have to be induced early. But now that Aidan is a year old, we see that he is in the 1-5% range for height and weight, our little peanut, which means he will likely be even smaller than Jason if he were to start kindergarten when he is first eligible. Time will tell what we'll do, but unless Aidan goes through an unexpected growth spurt in the next four years, he'll likely be waiting to go to kindergarten until he's 6.

As for Jason, I'm remembering the commercials I used to see when I was growing up in the D.C. area for the Jhoon Rhee Institute of Tae Kwon Do. The commercials had this jingle that went like this: "When you take Jhoon Rhee self defense, then you, too, can say, 'Nobody bothers me!'" Then a little Asian kid spins around, doing his kicks and punches, smiles at the camera, and squeaks, "Nobody bothers me, either!" I remember at the time thinking the commercials were so hokey and cheesy. But, it looks like we may be headed in that direction with Jason, to help give him more confidence to stand up for himself and to not be victimized. Ah, the trials and tribulations of parenting. As the kids get older, the challenges only get more complicated!