Amanda Takes Off...

I've been cleaning house, getting rid of some old things, and came across these.

I given this Care Bear for Christmas 1986, I am fairly sure. It was the Good Luck Care Bear and I loved its winking eye, which reminded me of frosting! I think it's time to let it go.

Good Luck Care Bear

And then there was my beloved Cabbage Patch Kid, also received sometime around 1986 (although I don't think for Christmas). Look at her, she's dressed in the very first thing I wore as a baby. Awwwww...

Cabbage Patch Kid

But if you look closely, you can see the destruction that happened to her at the hands of my brother. He decided to drag fangs on her with an ink pen. Then, some adult (Mom, Dad, a babysitter who smoked like a chimney and had white walls stained yellow?) decided to fix the fangs by covering them with White Out. Yes, really.

Fanged

And tell me, what in this world do I do to her poor hair??

This weekend, Good Man and I were supposed to go on a hike at a state park on Pennsylvania. We'd get to see one of three iron bridges on the state, there were few trails, so it'd be hard to get lost. Sounds great, right?

Except that the park was undeveloped, which meant no rangers and no toilets, and every single car we passed was full of hunters in blaze orange.

We don't own blaze orange.

I looked at Good Man, who was managing the car quite well on a pot-holed old state road and said, "You know, I think if we hike, we might get shot. I'd go off in the woods to do my business, and then I'd get shot."

Good Man nodded, "I think so."

So instead, Good Man and I went to the fossil pit. Shortly after we started searching for fossils, we heard gunshots.

Good Man looked at me. "No hiking."

House Falling Down Near Swatara State Park

House Detail

Most of the time the fact that Good Man was born and raised in Korea, and that I was born and raised in America, is unimportant. We've worked out a lot of cultural quirks and lived in the not-native country. Most of the time I'm only reminded of our differences when other people ask about them.

But then there are stories that remind me—quickly—that we are Korean and American.

Good Man and I were talking about childhood stories and he told me he stuck a chopstick in the light socket. My brother had stuck a fork in the socket. Korean, American.

Then he followed up with another story that reminded my of my brother. "I was trying to hold a bee in my hand, because you know, there are those big bees that don't sting," he said.

I nodded, "By brother used to call them the 'big, fuzzy bees,' and he'd pet them."

"Right, and so I was trying to catch one in my hand!" I laughed, anticipating what was coming next. Good Man continued, "And I caught a bee, but it was the wrong kind, and I got stung."

"What'd your mom say?"

"Well, she didn't really say anything, but she put 됀장 on it."

"Your mother put soy bean paste on the bee sting?" I certainly wasn't anticipating that.

"Yeah, what do you use?"

"Baking soda and water paste."

He shook his head, "No, that is weird."

"Ms," said one of my students, "you need a dog."

"Why?"

"Well, I just worry about you at home."

I smiled. "Why's that?"

"Don't you get lonely? You don't have a TV. I think you need a dog to keep you company. I mean, what do you do when you get bored?"

"Study Korean—"

"But that's like school!"

"It's fun to me," I said, "And I go bowling, I read, I write, I knit, I garden... I talk to my husband. We go for walks. And when I want to watch TV, I can watch it online."

"But you don't have video games, right?" he asked.

"Right. No video games."

"Hmm. Maybe you can have fun without a TV and video games," he said.

He sounded rather doubtful, though.

"So, I got this watch for Hanukkah," one of my students explained, showing her watch.

Another student asked, "So you get eight gifts?"

"No, we get gifts for eight days."

"Right, one gift a day?"

"No," she said, "sometimes one, sometimes five, maybe three, it depends."

"You get to open gifts for eight days?" he roared. He looked at me, "Ms, you've gotta tell my mom I want to be Jewish!"

"I leave all religious conversations to you and your parents," I said.

"But she thinks you're a good teacher, she'll listen to you."

"Ms, are you Christian?"

"No."

"Are you Jewish?"

"No."

The student looked a bit confused. "Korean?"

"No."

She nodded and walked away. I wondered why she didn't ask if I was Muslim, but maybe she figured three guesses was enough.

Ahh, the wintertime. The time of the year when schools try to navigate various holidays respectfully. This is always an...odd time of year. Some teachers throw snowflakes and snowmen up on their walls. Others figure they can put Santa all over the place because it's "secular." Some think Santa's OK, so long as they put an image of a menorah up. I really feel for the music department, although they always seem to manage it well.

Me? I avoid any mention at all of any holiday. In part, this is because religious holidays only very, very loosely relate to the curriculum, so I'm not required to teach anything about them. In part, this is because the students are already going winter stir-crazy and I am trying to keep them calm and tempered and any mention of anything related to presents is sure to excite them. (And to most of them at this age, holidays are about presents.)

Instead, I let the students lead me. I only stop the students if they start proclaiming that what they believe is the only thing anyone should ever believe. At the elementary level, this usually amounts to "each family celebrates different things. How would you feel if someone told you what your family thinks is wrong?"

Otherwise, if they want to make a Christmas card during their free time, I don't stop them. Writing this time of year tends to be centered around gifts. If they want to talk about holidays and gifts, I listen with an open ear, nod, and comment. But I'm honest, too. I don't celebrate Christmas. Or Hanukkah. Or, or, or...

I used to be really afraid of students finding out I wasn't Christian. Somewhere along the way, I loosened up. (Perhaps it happened in Korea, where "Are you Christian?" is a fair opening question and families often practice multiple religions in one home.) I figure as long as I respect all of their religious practices, it's OK. And most students have a sense of privacy and respect, so they don't ask too many questions. And the fact is, I have had other non-religious students in the past, and they need someone to identify with, too. (And of course, I've had students who are Jehovah's Witnesses, and thus are Christian, but don't celebrate Christmas.)

One of the benefits of working in this area is that we have students who practice Christianity, Judaism, Islam, and Hinduism in my class. Heck, some of the students practice more than one of those religions.

I was still surprised, however, that "Korean" was a religion. I had to work hard not to burst out laughing at that.