“the adventures of grace the grad student,” part 1

Unlike the majority of the American population, I actually look forward to paying my bills. To me, bills are a mark of independence; a small stamp of self-sufficiency. Bills mean that I am providing my own basic means and maintaining responsibility. Bills may be the bane of every graduate student’s existence, but currently, they are shiny proof that I am capable of holding my own.

I’m sure that I will detest bill-paying in a year or so, but in the meantime I will relish my obscure love for bills. Apart from paying bills, I’ve been keeping busy. My first week of being a graduate student has proved to be both an exhilarating and fearsome experience. Rather than to impart every boring detail of my first week as a grad, I’ve compiled a number of lessons I’ve learned thus far…

1. Soy milk really does go bad. And when I mean bad, I mean… REALLY bad. I accidentally swallowed some (it tasted like maggots) — but thankfully, I didn’t get sick!

2. Ovens aren’t standardized. My roommate and I tried to bake cookies one night and discovered that our cookie sheet was too large to fit into the oven. We almost cried.

3. The best way to dispose of random insects in your kitchen is to roast them alive on the burners. At least that’s the fate that befell the giant cricket on my stove.

4. Lysol wipes clean the floors better than Swiffer. They’re cheaper, too.

5. Older apartments have quirks. My apartment has a mystery room in the basement where allegedly, there is a bed, a chair, and a nightstand. Technically, no one is supposed to live down there…

6. Some graduate professors assign their students magical articles that even the university librarian cannot locate.

7. College counseling master’s students almost always sit in a circle in class. I guess it’s because we’re so good looking…

8. There are more people who look like me in graduate school than there are in undergrad. Diversity?? Psh. It’s just collegiate outsourcing.

9. The saddest thing next to endangered pandas is perhaps my fiance’s face when I accidentally drop a fresh-baked pizza from the oven onto the floor.

10. There really are other people in this world who can eat entire avocados every day

Okay… back to reading these insane volumes of literature. There will be more adventures to come eventually!

his eye is on the sparrow, part one.

So… we are studying fairy tales in my very feminist, academic, and postmodern class this semester.  We’ve examined original tales of Cinderella from China, Russia, Germany, England, and Thailand… all of which seem to include aspects of gore and decapitation, not to mention brave heroines who defy all gender norms and expectations.  Not only so, but we’ve talked about Bluebeard, a wicked blue-bearded pimp who murders all of unfortunate wives in a slaughter room (quite similar to the one in Disturbia), and addressed how modern-day fairy tales seem to exclude certain facets of husband infidelity, murderous intent, and violence.  My teacher (and I say “teacher” because she is not yet a “professor”) had much to say about how all of the Disney movie princesses glorify marriage and finding Prince Charming (in her opinion, why can’t a Disney princess fall in love with a “Prin-cess Charming”?).  Needless to say, fairy tales depress her, because they institutionalize certain gender roles and convince little girls that if they sleep for 100 years, their knight-in-shining-armor will hurdle all of the bramble bushes in order to climb into their tower to give them a wake-up kiss.  While I have beef with Disney heroines for reasons that do not fit in this already very long post, I would agree with her that fairy tales are just… rather disappointing and unrealistic on the whole.

The best stories are epic stories that contain truth — whether these truths are expressed through allegories or allusions, as long as it contains truth, I think it is a good story.  Though I’m not much of a literature buff, I do enjoy letting my own imagination run for a bit.  I’m not submitting this for class, because I am pretty sure the allegories and allusions I use will be attacked most fervently, but here is my venture into story-telling (otherwise known as the product of an afternoon of not wanting to read for class).  I might and might not finish it, but regardless, I hope you can pick out a few parallels…

Once upon a time in a land far away, (totally redundant and overused starting phrase)

Sometime during the heat of the Bohemian era, alongside of multi-colored gypsy caravans, jangling bells and tambourines, a rather notorious freak circus would often venture into the rat-infested city to find social pariahs desperate to avoid gawking stares from passerbys.  Of the individuals welcomed to join the freak circus, there were men who swallowed swords and women who resembled apes; half-giants and mermaids, children with two heads or four legs, and even those who ate fire.  The master who founded the circus retrieved each and every member of his company himself.  They called him “The Prince,” and regarded him as their benefactor.  “In exchange for your performances,” the Prince said, “I promise you a life in which you will taste the most extravagant of foods and wines, the kind of my very own stock.  You will never again beg on the streets or suffer for your deformities; HERE, your deformities become your pride, your glory, and your identity; HERE, you have a name, you have significance, and you have eternity.”

The freak circus lived and journeyed together, and, under the direction of the Prince, they were never without extravagant food or drink or merriment — that is, if they complied with the regulations of the show.  They were to never leave the show for any given circumstances, and the consequences for the one who attempted such an act of treason were at minimum, very severe.  Despite these things, the circus was a unit, a family, and a lifestyle — and so they went about their days as such.

Now, the gem of the freak circus was a girl whose impoverished parents sold her when she was but a child.  She was blind in both eyes and walked with a limp, but her voice was very lovely.  The Prince, who was very knowledgeable in the ways of the world, persuaded her parents to sell her to him and spare her the shame of being mocked for the rest of her life.  Her parents did not know that at the time, the Prince was already brewing ideas for an entire tour through the city to feature his newly-bought sparrow.  The Prince promised to raise the child to know of her parents’ sacrifice and to one day bring her home.  And with tears in their eyes, the child’s parents wept their goodbyes and watched as the circus caravan fade from sight.

Now the Prince had an evil heart and was only ever concerned about himself.  He decided to keep the girl in the circus for as long as she lived, for his eyes were set only on the profit she would bring for his business.  In order to discourage her from ever leaving his company, the Prince tied ropes and bells around her wrists and ankles so that she would not be able to run away.  Furthermore, the Prince told her that her parents did not want her and that she was to regard him as her guardian from now on, for he would be the one to provide for her anything she should desire.

And so she grew.  As she grew, the fame and reputation of the freak circus grew as well.  Not only did Bohemians and aristocrats from near and far flock to listen to the girl sing, but also foreigners from other lands, who often came with gold and other such treasures to give to the Prince and his sparrow.  The rest of the circus grumbled quite a bit, for the Prince never doted on them quite as much as he did his new starlet.  However, their complaints were short-lived, as the Prince had a very nasty temper and often resorted to cruel and unusual punishments for acts of insubordination.  Instead, they harassed the girl all day and all night, making fun of her limping gait and blindness and saying awful things about the Prince (“Surely he will tire of you one day and feast upon another freak’s abilities!  your parents did not love you, for they sold you to the Prince!  The Prince only dotes on you because you can sing, you just wait until he forgets about you!”).

Now it pained the girl in her heart to hear these claims, for she was very aware of her limp and the fact that she was blind.  Their scornful mockery and claims sired doubt deep within her heart, for she truly desired to know who she was before she began to live with the Prince and his company.  On one particular evening, after the circus gave a successful performance and the company were merrily counting their coins and carousing, the girl mustered up her courage to approach the Prince in his private room.  Upon hearing the bells jangling at her wrists and her ankles, the Prince opened the door and permitted her to come into his lair.

“What is troubling you, my singing sparrow, that you should come and seek me when your friends are celebrating their success?” he said with a smile.
“Who am I?” the girl spoke, her voice quavering just slightly.  The Prince’s smile stretched a little wider across his face, appearing though as if it were strained.
“Why, you are my starlet!  You are the crown jewel of the circus!  You are the show-stopper, the featurette, the icon of my freak circus!” he said.  But the girl looked troubled.
“Where are my parents?” she asked.  The Prince’s smile turned into ice and his brow furrowed in anger.  He replied in a cool and dangerous voice.
“Why my child, I am your guardian.  Your parents did not want you, they threw you away onto the streets, and it was I who collected you from the filth and gave you a second chance,” he said.  “Your parents did not love you, they did not want to love you, and I took you in — after all that I have done for you, providing you with imperishable and extravagant food and drink, shelter and a place to belong, how can you even dare to question my generosity towards you?” the Prince’s voice ended in a snarl.  But for too long had her questions been unanswered; the girl barreled on:
“You say you care for me yet you bind my wrists and ankles with ropes so that I am never out of your sight.  You tied bells on my binds so that I can never escape.  The food and drink that you give us is indeed imperishable, but it is never satisfactory.  We eat and eat but cannot be satisfied; we are always in want of more.  We drink and drink but our thirst is never quenched; we are always in want of more.  You promised us a place to belong, but you exploit our weaknesses and profit from them at our expense.  I don’t have an identity here,” the girl said, “because you have claimed everything that is rightfully mine and have been telling me lies from the day you took me away.”

The Prince’s anger escalated upon hearing these words — never had a member of his company been so forthright in his presence.  He leaned closely towards the girl as if to tell her a secret.  He said:
“So you have figured it out.  I feast off of your ugliness, your deformities, and your ignorance… I provide you with imperishable food that never satisfies and drink that never quenches thirst.  They call me ‘the Prince’ but do not know that I am truly the Prince of Lies and Deception… and the moment you are mine, you can never not be mine… you and the rest of your freak friends are mine forever, my freak performers and social deviants for the rest of eternity!” and with a maniacal laugh, the evil Prince threw the girl out of his private room and tied her to the back of the circus caravan, where she would be forced to limp behind the caravan as they drove from city to city.  He said to her then: “This is your life.  I did not make you the way you are, but you did yourself, you stupid, wretched, blind and limping girl.  You brought this upon yourself!”

Upon receiving her punishment, the girl cried for the rest of the night as she realized the gravity of her very-bad-situation.  The next day, none of the circus company dared to visit or help her (they did not want to end up in the same situation) and so the poor girl straggled behind the caravan as they rode from city to city.  The Prince, in his nasty temper, forbid any circus members to release the girl from her binds.  So the poor girl was forced to endure mud and dirt; cold and scorching heat — as the caravan rode on towards their destination.  As days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, the girl began to lose her once lovely voice.  And as months became years, she was no longer known as the starlet of the circus, but rather, the blind and limping girl who trails behind the circus caravan.

One one particularly starry night, when the caravan was stopped and the Prince and the entire company were fast asleep, the girl looked up into the sky and lamented over her plight:
“Is there any hope for those who are hopeless?  What does one do when one loses the will to live, yet cannot die because they encounter worse things than death even as they live?  Surely I am cursed, surely I am beyond saving.  No one will come to my aid, for what worth is it to save a blind and limping girl from an evil Prince?”

(to be continued…)

eros and agape.

To many, love is passion.

Love is power.  Love is strength.  It is an explosion of endorphins, a means of security and validation, and it is a support column.  Love is an excuse for people to do stupid things just as it is a reason for people to do mighty things.  Some argue that “love” is their religion, their way of life in a world of poor and broken people.  Some speak love with their words, some show love by their actions.  While these descriptions of love are legit, “love” continues to be something we misunderstand and misconceptualize too often in the world.

Don’t get me wrong: I totally believe in love.  What compels me to write about love is not my unbelief of love but rather, recent conversations, thoughts, and scenarios that have motivated me to share a few of my own convictions.  Neither will I profess to be an expert on love nor will I pretend to have a lot of knowledge in this area, but rather, I will attempt to give a fresh perspective on something that touches all people and all things in this world.  As a college student in her senior year, I’ll be the first to admit that there are many other older and wiser folks who are much more fluent in the language of love than I will ever be at this point in life – age notwithstanding, this is what I have to offer.  As always, comments and criticisms are welcome!

But first, a little background.  I grew up in an environment where love was conditional and rewarded to me if I successfully produced a good grade, good behavior, achievement, and perfection.  To me, love was a weighted and subjective transfer of goods.  It was earned.  On the occasion that I could not produce anything worthy of love, I was slammed, rejected, put down, and threatened.  I began to process “love” on a system of fear, where I would make decisions based on the fear of losing favor in someone else’s eyes; losing priority and standing in someone else’s life, and with that, significance.  This misguided system of “love” transpired in every aspect of my life, particularly as I began my first serious relationship in college.  Like most girls, I equated “love” with “security” in such that part of me believed my value and ability to be loved could be validated if a guy told me I was beautiful and worth it.  But because my understanding of love was founded upon fears, the relationship did not grow and eventually ended in a very painful breakup.  To be fair, I was not alone in my warped system of love, as he struggled too to understand love in his own personal way.  To make a long story short, the journey I then took afterward was a hard one in which a deconstruction of my understanding of “love” began to occur.  In the midst of that experience, I gained a new awareness of myself and of others.  It is still a process, in which I continually tear down the distorted conceptions of love (e.g., “he’ll love me if I give him what he wants,” “he’ll love me if I look more perfect or beautiful,” etc.) and allow a bigger perception of love to redefine what is and what isn’t true.

This should sound familiar to all of you collegians out there.  Some of you are entering significant relationships.  Some of you are parting ways after spending a summer together.  Some of you are in or have been in relationships that are entering the second, third, fourth or fifth year (or more) — you’ve seen it all, the fights and the arguments, the pseudo breakups and the many “I’m sorry”s and “I love you”s exchanged.  Some of you are emerging into a new phase of life: recently graduated, hard hit with reality and the uncertainty of the future; every question imaginable within your line of vision: what will happen to us?  Will we make it through this one?  Is he as serious about me as I am with him?  Does she really love me?  Can I trust her?  Do we love each other enough?

Maybe you haven’t been in a relationship.  Perhaps it is something you desire so much that you are daily consumed by the want to be loved and to be pursued.  You are tired of having your patience tested, particularly when all of your friends are engaged or married.  But maybe a relationship is something you don’t want to experience at the moment, or ever.  You’ve got other plans for your life; you want to go to med school or law school and you don’t need any distractions right now.  Regardless of where you stand, this is still directed at you.

The truth is, you can choose to see what you want to see in someone just as you can be something that someone else wants to see.  Before you know it, you are dating an empty shell with a depth you never want to know.  That person was who you wanted them to be and never who they really were instead.  You can spend two, three, seven or ten years with someone who you really don’t love and who really doesn’t love you.  But you won’t realize it until much later, when you wish that you could take back the things you’ve done or said that have made irrevocable etches on their heart.

The truth is, you can search high and low for the right man or woman to spend the rest of your life with just as you can spend the rest of your life with who you think is the right man or woman and never know love the way it was meant to be perceived.  You can let your heart become embittered because you have no lover right now just as you can let your heart be aggravated because the lover you are currently with knows exactly how to push your buttons.

So you’re scared that they’ll eventually meet someone else they will actually love and want to spend the rest of their life with.  So you’re scared that he’ll cheat on you; you’re scared that you actually can’t trust her like you wish you could.  So you’re scared that you will never find “the one,” scared that you’ll never be happily married.  Humans are so delicate, like glass-blown figurines in an antique armoire.  We are too easily broken, too easily shattered, and too easily begrimed.

Our definition and understanding of love is too small.  It’s dull, it’s bland, and it’s insufficient.  It’s the kind of definition that settles.  Let me say it this way.  We SETTLE for inadequate definitions of love.  The truth is, even the purest of all eros relationships barely even brush the surface of love at its finest…

Love is made up of choices.  More than it is made up of chemical pathways, dopamine-induced rushes, chocolate and roses.  While eros love can be a feeling, agape love covers over all.  Agape chooses to know no boundaries.  Agape is choosing to be a part of something greater than yourself.  It is choosing to give yourself up for another, for a cause that is bigger than life.  Agape chooses to lose a part of yourself — only to gain it back times a hundred.  This kind of love requires you to give someone the benefit of the doubt; it requires you to believe and to hope even when it hurts.  It requires you to choose forgiveness over guilt-trips; humility over anger; vulnerability over masked emotions; a clean record over a tally of how you’ve been wronged.  This kind of love knows no games.  It knows no impurities.  It accepts and does not reject; it gives even when it is not returned; it bleeds for you even if you do not want it to touch you.

Being born on Earth automatically implies that you can expect to be heartbroken and disenchanted; it implies that sooner or later, someone you love will let you down and invade your sense of security and purpose.  It implies that, the very second you give your heart away, you can expect to be bruised.  But being born on Earth also implies that you are offered to experience agape love, though not by any human means.  It is available to you through the very author and giver of Love.  And you can take it today.

Okay.  I have to go to class.

what winter taught me.

So the University of Delaware has a freakishly long winter semester – “winter sesh,” we say. Some argue that it was made to make all other colleges have beef with us for getting 7 weeks of winter break; others contend that it exists to torture the students who opt to enroll for winter classes. While a good portion of the student body take advantage of the winter hiatus to trek across the globe, to Cape Town, to Rome, to Barcelona; New Dehli, Rotorua, Milan and Acapulco, the rest of us are left to go and beg our bosses to hire us for another month and a half – that, or we hibernate.

Okay okay, so I didn’t opt for classes and I don’t have the money to go to Beijing, and I begged my boss to hire me for another month and a half to no avail – but I didn’t hibernate. As a matter of fact, I had probably the most interesting end-of-a-year/start-of-a-year ever in all of my 20-some years of breathing. And because it would be absurd to document all of the spectacular highlights and lessons-learned of my oh-so thrilling life, I’ve decided to create an abridged version of what winter taught me this year – what God has taught me in the past two months. Enjoy.

1. we are ridiculously blessed to have home-heating systems and electricity. don’t ever take America for granted.
2. feeling helpless is a wonderful thing. acknowledge those feelings, get over yourself, and hope in God.
3. if loving your family means obeying even the most absurd commands, do it joyfully nonetheless. you’ll save yourself a lot of unnecessary grief.
4. praying for joy doesn’t mean that you won’t suffer, it just means that you’ll have a huge attitude check… for the better.
5. certain people come into your life at certain times for all of the right reasons. and don’t be surprised when that reason is love. it’s just God letting us know in a special way that He really does love us.
6. the shadow ALWAYS proves the sunshine.
7. succumbing to anger and bitterness only shrinks your heart and ability to see God clearly.
8. the people we find most irritable and unlovable are the ones we have the most in common with.
9. keep short accounts with others; grudges are things that belong in freaky movies. the only debt that we should have at the end of the day is to love.
10. you have to be willing to have your toes stepped before you step on someone else’s toes. this is called humility.
11. we are always left with a choice. sometimes the truth really does hurt. but it’s what you choose to do with it – to let it stand in your way or not – that makes you the person that you are.
12. doing is better than talking, but being is better than doing.
13. no matter how annoying and aggravating they are, big brothers really do have your best interests at heart.
14. talking about the hard stuff is better than not talking at all. “an honest answer is like a kiss on the lips,” proverbs 24:26.
15. moms are the kind of people who’d still love you even after you’ve dropped the f-bomb.
16. it’s a scary thing for a control freak (ooh, like me!) to let someone else handle it. but letting go is so sweet.
17. you can definitely have your cake and eat it too.
18. just because they look like a banana doesn’t mean that they’re not a real person.
19. contrary to popular belief, grace actually occurs on the Interstate… even after crossing 5 lanes and illegal U-turns.
20. just because our parents are grownups doesn’t mean that they’ve got it all together.
21. tradition, like skin color and culture, is just another layer of identity, another thing we like to argue about. the only thing that matters at the end of the day is whether or not you’ve loved God with all of your heart – and loved others in turn with that love.
22. leadership is born out of servanthood. always.
23. smiling until your face hurts and laughing until you cry are both signs of something wonderful.
24. words, like other things we toss around on a daily basis, have more meaning when they are used at the right time.
25. and last but not least, EVERYTHING is a gift. cherish it while it lasts, and never forget to praise the Giver.

Goodbye, Winter. Hellooooo, Spring…