Pandemics, Pain, and Perspectives

I admittedly have a lot of pent-up frustrations and concerns from the pain of the past couple of weeks. I'm bringing back this blog as my coping tool.

"I can't breathe" is a cry heard 'round the world. These national and international protests in the aftermath of George Floyd's murder have cast the eyes of the world on our nation. In the midst of the COVID-19 pandemic, this national movement for America's black communities has certainly made 2020 a turbulent year.

Living here in Chicago, it was almost inevitable that mass protests would be organized here. Not too long ago, Laquan Mcdonald was repeatedly shot to death by a police officer, and it caused citywide protests (including one I witnessed from afar at my own university). Again, protests from the Black Lives Matter movement have resurged in the Windy City, face-to-face with a police force that many of them seek to reform or abolish.

Reading up a bit on Chicago's history--I recommend A Political Education by Elizabeth Todd-Breland; it's an infuriating read that does leave some room for hope--I have become slightly more aware of the legacy of racial segregation in our own city. I've also been forced to check my own biases (even the inherent racial ones that I thought I managed to completely suppress), and learned to listen to other perspectives. Protesting isn't quite my lane, and I admittedly still profess some attachment to CPD officers (the ones that I know, at least), but the nationwide significance of the George Floyd protests has shaken a lot of my preconceived notions about American society.

But I'm not here to write on proposals to reform or abolish institutions. This here is an individual's thoughts, and these are not to be taken as an official endorsement of any side of this issue.

I'm exhausted from sharing resources and listening to people over DMs and phone calls. I'm human too, so I get fatigued and I need breaks. But my heart still aches for our nation, our city, and any remnants of humanity that are left amidst the brutality and the rioting. I want to keep being optimistic and friendly, even as I acknowledge the ugliness of this issue, but I fear my optimism will be shot down as toxic positivity.

I may not see the end of this issue. In fact, many of us may not see it end completely. But, what I think does matter is our faithfulness to nourish and sustain humanity for the next generation. We might not resolve all the issues, but at least we can make this world better for our children to manage and continue the work.

Do I have disagreements with friends? Of course I do. But I won't let such disagreements dehumanize the people I love; in the end, we grow and learn from each other, and we pass on the lessons. Does it hurt? Of course it does. But it guarantees a stronger platform for us and the next generations to thrive.

We are all carrying a heavy cross up the hill, but the cross is not the final reality. There is a moment of resurrection and renewal, and the cycle begins again. It does seem repetitive, but I think this cycle continuously allows us to maintain a mature outlook on the harshness of the world. This dynamic of positive and negative, I believe, is what gives us the opportunity to express the selfless aspects of humanity.

I might write more on this, but I'll conclude my thoughts here. Thanks for stopping by.

Cultivating Personal Vocabulary

A friend of mine invited me via text to an event called the Chicago Language Cafe. At a bar which wasn't too far of a drive from my place, there were several tables at which I could practice and brush up on the languages I learned in school. Needless to say, that was a very enjoyable refresher.

My first stop was the Arabic table, marked by an Egyptian flag (Luckily, it wasn't Egyptian dialect only; I would have been destroyed trying to pick up on that.). A couple of native speakers at that table helped me get settled and refreshed me on a lot of vocabulary and grammar which I hadn't utilized in about four years. I had once been actively fluent during my Arabic courses back at UIC, but I let myself go rusty once I finished the language requirements for my degree. However, once I took hold again of my basics, I was able to maintain a decent conversation for a hot minute.

As the conversation flowed, I became more expressive and my chemistry with the others became more dynamic. I got more comfortable and confident speaking as the native speakers coached me. After I came back home, I ended my day feeling affirmed and motivated to develop my language skills more at events like that.

I think there's deeper takeaways from this event than simple language refreshers. It taught me never to be afraid to seek additional coaching at something you're not confident in; there's no shame in asking questions. The best way to practice something is to actually do it, applying outside guidance as needed.

But the most profound lesson for me is that speaking to someone in their language helps them to get to know you better. And by language, I don't simply mean foreign languages; I include body language, personal background, environment, and culture. There are various ways in which people express and understand ideas, and the way that one expresses themselves might not be as easily understood by another. Sometimes, we need to step out of our shoes and affirm how the other experiences things. In the process, we add a little more words to our social vocabulary and our overall human experience matures; we become more flexible in our communication and thus more open to what other people have to say.

I'll close off this post with some questions to reflect on:

• What "languages" do you speak? In other words, what defines how you see things?
• How have you differed from others in experiencing similar things?
• What sorts of "social vocabulary" do you think you'd need to pick up to better understand who's around you?

Confessions of a Former Culture Warrior

Dusting off the cover of this rusty old blog, I feel like I have to get this out of my system.

In some of the recent altercations I've witnessed on social media, I have seen a significant increase of vitriolic exchanges between opposing political camps. There is a general environment of mistrust and close-mindedness that had led to an endless cycle of buzzwords and name-calling which leads conversations off the cliff.

Witnessing this in several circles, I can't help but slam my fists on my desk as I read through the clashes of discourse in the comments sections. No one seems to listen to anyone but their own kind. Stereotypes and political profiling are rampant and memed throughout the feeds. I don't know why anyone would settle within their own discourse and think that their own arguments are ends in themselves.

I, too, participated in a culture war against the "evil" liberal Other. I was brought up to believe that the liberal agenda was directly receiving orders from Satan himself and their discourse was not worth listening to. The stereotypical liberal for me was the anarchist, anti-theist, gay agenda "pusher" who would stop at nothing to destroy all that we live for. It became hard for me to be a listener, and I burned a lot of bridges and friendships for the sake of the crusade. Then college came, and I found myself surrounded by a menagerie of humanity. Different religions, ideologies, backgrounds, etc. My crusader upbringing kicked in, and the whole campus felt like I was in the midst of the enemy.

In listening to the different views and perspectives, however, I realized that I forgot to be human in my Christian upbringing. Sure, Jesus flipped tables and used insulting analogies to humble the religious leaders, but how does that ever give me license to belittle "lawbreakers" and "low-lifes"? Sounds like I've turned myself into a Pharisee. Did not Christ say He came to call sinners, and that those who are not sick do not need a doctor? How have I been treating those from harsh backgrounds and origins? They are afflicted, but they are human beings, products of the Creator with a dignity equal to my own.

I've thrown away the life of the culture warrior. I've learned to actually listen to know my "enemy" better. Wasn't Mother Church built on genuine human relationships, and were not those relationships built on genuine conversation? Did not the Apostles bring the Church into being at Pentecost when they preached to pilgrims in various languages? What happened to that?

Then again, I'm done ranting. It's just a rabble at this point, and no one is going to listen to this. Just another voice in the crowd with no sense of direction.

Late Bloomer

Happy summer, readers! There's been so much going on in the weeks since my last post, so I hope to have you caught up on my recent experiences.

(Good news, yours truly finally has a job! Looks like I'll be resuming my commuting adventures and hopefully finding some interesting things to post about on the way.)

Anyways, I'd like to bring up a recent undertaking I've started. Sometime during Christmas 2015, I spent my vacation with my family in the Philippines. I always love to visit them, but my limited knowledge of Tagalog was a bit of a personal embarrassment. I already have a strong bond with my family back there, but I always felt I needed that bond to be stronger.

During a shopping trip with my family, I stepped into a bookstore. Lo, and behold...

FINALLY.

With generally little hesitation, I bought the book and took it back home to Chicago. I'm 22 years old now. I might be a bit of a late bloomer, but I'm more than willing to put in the work. I've already finished the first chapter, and I'm happy with the progress I've made, little as it is. It'd be great if I found someone else to practice and learn with, though I'm quite not confident as to who to go to.

It's about time I did this. Who knows, I might end up doing an entire post in Tagalog. Tayo na!

It Was Gonna Happen Eventually...

After a few months of hesitation, I finally decided to make a Facebook page for the blog. Facebook friends, now you won't have to feel awkward stalking my personal profile for posts you may have missed out on.

(Also, I wanted to get a feel for posting on the new page rather than on my profile by writing this.)

Feel free to invite your friends to give the page a like!

A Snail Mail Challenge

I've been chilling in my room for the few months following my return from Fort Jackson. I look around and see the numerous unused envelopes and stamps from basic training. And an idea pops into my head...

When I had my phone taken for the duration of basic, I was left with the option of communicating via traditional mail, for which I had to pay in order to get the needed materials to send a simple letter back home to my family and friends. It felt very weird at first--not having done this in well over a decade--but I soon got the hang of handwriting letters and addresses again.

In comparison to the texts I casually sent over my phone and my laptop, these messages felt more personal; instead of the relaxed convenience of typing on a touchscreen, I felt the strain on my wrist as I wrote and scribbled my messages. I felt the effort put into this communication; for the first time, I felt I was actually caring for my loved ones by making these mailings. Of course, I did feel something similar with digital messages, but in my case, the effort and the care felt real when I wrote my heart out.

When I was given my phone--and with it, the ability to text again--I felt different about the way I communicated after ten weeks of snail mail. Texting never felt as personal as writing a letter. Typing and leaving it for someone to eventually pick up their phone and see it didn't have the ring of, "I put in some of my resources just to speak my heart to you." I wanted to do more with the old styles, strange as it sounded.

And that feeling still echoes with me to this day. I want to experience the effort of caring and setting aside my resources for someone I love. I want that intimate feeling of true communication again. I want to pour my whole heart into creating a message that matters.

I have set a challenge for myself and for you readers as well if you wish to join in:

I'm going to start mailing people again. If you'd like, message me your mailing address (it will be kept confidential, of course), and I'll get to writing you a simple, but hopefully heartfelt letter. No matter where you are, I'll send you a message. For me, this is a personal exercise for my communications and relationships with others, and I encourage you to give it a try. It heavily affected my relationships with my loved ones during and after basic, and I'm happy with the changes. Happy writing!