It Takes a Rocket Scientist to Know the Main Idea

 In December, I wrote in my posting that I was working on a special project. What was this project?  I was writing an article for a magazine.  Since pride can be a major weakness of mine, I didn't tell too many people about this.  Imagine if I sent the article in and it didn't get published? Well, in this April's issue of Inheritance Magazine... guess what?  It was published!

If you haven't checked it out yet, you can click on the link... it's a fantastic faith-based magazine that has a focus on developing the faith and identities of Asian American Christians and on mobilizing them for action in their communities.  It's an honor to have been published by them, and my article is linked here.  

Anyhow, check out the magazine and my article, which is titled, "It Takes a Rocket Scientist to Know the Main Idea".  The graphics are fantastic... if only I had Ms. Lee to illustrate all of my posts!

Opportunity Cost, Opportunity Lost

Opportunity Cost:  The cost of an alternative that must be forgone in order to pursue a certain action. Put another way, the benefits you could have received by taking an alternative action.

In elementary school, students build fundamental skills that they will use for the rest of their lives.  As a teacher, I want my students to understand that what they learn in my class is not applied only in my classroom.  Sometimes, the lessons have implications that go far beyond the scope of academia.  One such lesson is the lesson of opportunity cost, a 3^rd grade learning objective that found its way into a road trip I took over my Spring break.

Southern food is good for the soul so two weeks ago, my buddy Jeff and I hopped in my car and headed south to Athens and Atlanta.  Then, we drove east until the map turned blue – to Charleston, SC – where the beauty of the sun-kissed water is only eclipsed by the radiant southern belles that scatter the sand-swept landscape. There’s just something therapeutic about a road trip – and like the food we ate along the way, road trips are always good for the soul.  And, they’re always good for strange roadside sightings.  As we were heading back home, Jeff and I both did a double-take when we saw the bumper sticker on the back of a car which was driven by a young woman who looked to be in her early 20s. 

Me:  “Did you see that?”

Jeff:  “Did that bumper sticker say what I think it said?”

Me:  “I wonder if she lost a bet…”

Jeff:  “Slow down, I want to take a picture.  This is a must tweet.”

Me:  “I bet she gets out of a lot of speeding tickets!”

Unfortunately, the car with the bumper sticker that said “I (heart) Richard” (except, it wasn’t ‘Richard’ – but this is a PG blog so I’ll let you readers deduce what was actually written) was far in my rear view mirror by that time.  At that moment, we had a decision to make: was disrupting our travel time worth having a tweet that was sure to give our buddies a good laugh? 

A difficult decision but… as much as we wanted to, the opportunity cost of getting home later than we wanted was too much to give up.

When I look around my classroom, I see 24 children that have an opportunity that many of their parents either didn’t have, or didn’t capitalize on.  These faces look at me each morning with bright eyes full of life, lives full of hope, and hope for a future that is full of joy and success.  This future is within their grasp… if only they had the foresight that we as teachers have.  Therefore, I ride my students hard.  I expect more from them than they think they can give.  I make different tests for different students to challenge them individually because, gosh darn it, if you’re going to get an ‘A’ in my class, you better believe you’ve earned it.  I think about what my friends would think if they saw me in the classroom, and I’d guess many of them would think I’m pretty mean. 

“They’re only kids!” they might say.  “They have the rest of their lives to work hard.”

This is exactly why I’m tough on my students and I push them to excel.  The opportunity cost of what they are giving up if they don’t learn the fundamental skills of perseverance and hard work is worth far more than the opportunity given up to get home a little sooner on a road trip.  I’m hard on my students because,

Their opportunity cost is their opportunity, lost.

Like most teachers, I’d rather be the “mean, strict teacher” than the “nice, cool teacher.”  This has been one of the most important lessons I’ve learned about teaching. Like many important lessons that I’ve learned in life, this lesson has roots in a book that contains far more wisdom than any earthly person:

“Endure hardship as discipline; God is treating you as his children. For what children are not disciplined by their father?  No discipline seems pleasant at the time, but painful. Later on, however, it produces a harvest....” (Hebrews 12:7, 11a – NIV)

In other words,

“God is educating you; that's why you must never drop out. He's treating you as dear children. This trouble you're in isn't punishment; it's training, the normal experience of children. At the time, discipline isn't much fun. It always feels like it's going against the grain. Later, of course, it pays off handsomely…” (Hebrews 12:7, 11a – The Message)

Realization:  God is tough on me because He loves me and it’s vital that I mature.  And I, like my students, am often blind to the importance of not persevering through the obstacles in my life.  If only I could be in God’s eyes what I want my students to be in my eyes.  Then, my OWN opportunity cost would not be my opportunity, lost.

Spring Break!!!

I’ve been on break for over a week and I’m loving life. Aside from going on a road trip over the weekend (more on that in a separate post), I’ve gotten a chance to immerse myself in my other hobbies – climbing, baseball, and… FOOD!!! 

I love to eat.  And, over the past few years I have come to love cooking just as much as eating.  Only, I’m not REALLY a chef.  For the most part, I really don’t know what I’m doing... and in that regard, it’s almost like teaching.  I might go in with an idea of what I want the end result to be, but how I get there is dependant on:

1)      A lot of adapting to what resources (or ingredients) I have;

2)      Improvisation; and

3)      What I can pull out of my imagination.  

Aside from the art of teaching, cooking is my only foray into the creative sciences.  This is something that’s abundantly clear if you’ve ever seen any of the posters I’ve attempted to design for my classroom or watched as I’ve drawn out pictures to help students visualize math problems.  It’s also obvious to anyone that has seen me cook.  I call what I do in the kitchen ‘gangster gourmet.’  I look in the pantry/fridge to see what’s there, and improvise to come up with something that is (hopefully) edible. 

Out of necessity – starvation is a really bad way to go out - I’ve gotten better at cooking over the last 10+ years of bachelorhood.  This is very fortuitous to those that I’ve made things for during the past week.  My culinary adventures this past week thus far include:

1)      Cheddarburger supermelt with rosemary smashed potatoes

2)      Spinach and romano orzo with sundried tomatoes

3)      Mushroom, caramelized onion, spinach, and bacon strata

4)      Yogurt served with grilled bread triangles (buttered and covered with powdered sugar) and strawberry-banana compote.  I still have no idea what to call this, but I needed to get rid of the things in my fridge that were gonna spoil when I was gone.

5)      Steak fajitas

6)      And, today’s lunch…

Seafood-mushroom risotto served with sauvignon blanc.

Now if only my lessons – and my students – can come out as successfully as this!!!

Things We Would Change (if we could)

I think all of us have thought about the things in our lives or days that we would go back and change if we could.  Here’s my list of what I would do differently:

1) Not jumped in the deep end of the pool without my floaties when I was 4.  I thought I could swim.  I thought wrong.

2) Realized BEFORE middle school that playing Dungeons and Dragons really wasn’t so cool.

3) Concentrated on football early in life instead of violin.  Oh, high school could have been so different…

4) Asked out that pretty redhead in college that always smiled at me when we passed.  If only her smile didn’t render me completely speechless as well…

5) Not gotten in the car the night of March 21, 2001.  The next time I would be conscious would be 2 months later.

I look back on these moments with remorse, but would I really change them? 

-          Almost drowning at age 4 didn’t make me fearful; rather, it helped make me realize (along with a bunch of other foolish things I did over the next 25 or so years) that there is a difference between fearlessness and reckless impulsivity. 

-          Not being cool enough for my best friend gave me a lesson on what is socially acceptable and what isn't.  It also gave us both lessons on friendship and forgiveness. In 2005 – almost 20 years later – I was the best man at his wedding.

-          Waiting until my senior year to play football because I thought I was too small – and subsequently becoming a starter – made me realize that I should never underestimate myself. 

-          I’m pretty sure my future wife (whoever she might be) will make me thankful that I never ended up with anyone else. 

-          Despite the grueling recovery path and the things I’m no longer capable of, the car accident 11 years ago had a profound impact on my outlook on life and my spiritual walk.  I’m a better man because of what I went through.

Yesterday, I had another moment which I wish I could change.  On the day before Spring Break, I gave my students a math test.  I really wish I hadn’t.

I don’t remember a whole lot of what I thought when I was in the 5^th grade.  I’m guessing many of us don’t – either that or we have a warped opinion of what went through our minds at that age.  My only thought yesterday was,

“I should give this test because we just finished the unit, and I’ll have time to grade them over the break!”  

I never once thought that the kids wouldn’t be focused.  That is, not until they were taking the test and 2 of my most responsible students kept looking around like they thought the Easter Bunny was going to walk through the door any moment and give them chocolate eggs. 

Mr. Lin:  “Willie*, what are you doing?”

Willie:  “Huh?”                   

Mr. Lin: "Are you OK?  You haven’t written anything in 10 minutes.”

Willie: “My brain hurts.  I don’t want to do any more math.”

Haley*:  “Same here.  Do I have to finish this?”

Note to self:  The day before vacation is NEVER a good time to give assessments.  Almost all the kids turned in their tests with 20 minutes remaining.  Several students left full pages without answers on them.  3 kids fell out of their chairs for no apparent reason.  What a disaster.

A few weeks ago, I had this conversation with a student after she had gotten angry as I was trying to help correct her homework:

Mr. Lin:  “Are you angry because you did your homework wrong?”

Student:  “Yes.  You’re always mad at me because I get things wrong.”

Mr. Lin:  “Look at me.  Do I seem mad?”

Student:  “No.  But I didn’t do it right.  So you’re mad.”

Mr. Lin:  “Getting things wrong isn’t a bad thing.  We can always learn from our mistakes.”

Student:  “But I don’t want to make mistakes.  I want to do things that are easy.”

Mr Lin:  “No one is perfect, so we all make mistakes.  The important thing isn’t that we don’t make mistakes.  It’s that we are able to make mistakes and learn from them.  If you always do things that are easy, would you be learning anything?”

Student: “No…”

With all the mistakes I’ve made while teaching over the past two years, I’ve had all too many times where I wanted a do-over on my day.  I’ve had all too many times where I’ve been angry.  I’ve been angry at my students.  I’ve been angry at myself.  And, I’ve been angry because God’s plan for me was to become a teacher.  In this moment however, I realize that God is speaking those same words to me that I said to that little girl several weeks ago. 

Here’s to learning and reflecting on my experience.  Here’s to (hopefully) becoming a better teacher.

*Note:  Names are changed

Dispelling a Myth

The story of Cassandra

In Greek mythology, Cassandra was a Trojan prophetess who had the curse of always being correct, but with no one ever believing her. Her story takes place during the Trojan War.

After 10 years of war with Troy, the Greeks left an infamous gift of deceit for their opponents – the legendary wooden horse that served to end the war victorious for the Greeks. Cassandra was the only voice of dissent in the city, saying that bringing the giant horse inside the gates would lead to the destruction of Troy. She was mocked for her opinion, and the rest is mythological history.

One of the most frustrating things as a person is when you know the answer to something but your opinion goes unheeded. While it might make us feel better to say, “I told you so,” we know in the grand scheme of things being right isn’t all that big of a deal. However, there are times where the stakes are high and the consequences of our decisions reverberate for years to come.

Uncultivated Brilliance

Isaac* is a brilliant young man. He knows more about science, history, and random facts than anyone I have ever encountered. He takes an unparalleled fascination with things that pique his interest, and he devours information that he takes upon himself to research about these subjects. In essence, the boy is a walking encyclopedia whose mind is like a steel trap – nothing escapes it.

Is this boy the next Bill Gates? Will he be headed to the college of his choice in a few years? Will success at every level be this child’s academic trajectory? I dream wistfully at the possibilities he has in front of him. If only this wasn’t just a vision. What does the future behold for such a fascinating young man?

Sadly, the answer is in question because the decision on how to educate students like Isaac is not in the hands of the various Cassandras that are providing sound and expert advice. The decision is in the hands of people that are experts in loving their child and have the best intentions – but not true experts in child development. This is similar to the decision to bring a wooden horse into the city of Troy - it wasn’t the decision of the resident expert, Cassandra. It was in the hands of King Priam, the king who loved his city as his own children. As much as this great king knew what was best for his city in most instances, at the moment it mattered most he didn’t follow the advice of the person that knew the most. His decision doomed Troy.

The reason I am discussing Homer’s Iliad is because brilliant young Isaac is a child that has special needs. Not in the sense that many of us from an older generation view it; he doesn’t have Down’s syndrome, doesn’t have low IQ, and he seems completely normal – even brilliant – when speaking and interacting with him. However, somewhere along the way from his brain to his pencil, his thoughts get lost. Isaac, a boy that might live down the street as you, go to the same church you do, or even live under you own roof, is a boy whose mind requires special cultivation in order for it to achieve it’s full potential. But then again, aren’t we all uniquely and wonderfully made? Don’t we all need to be nurtured in a manner that is befitting our own special needs?

As brilliant as Isaac is, and as much as his parents love them, parents of Isaacs around the nation are ignoring the advice of others that also want what’s best for their children. They are hesitant to adhere to the advice that a more accommodating environment is needed to harness their precious child’s immense talent. They are listening to the gremlins of the past as opposed to the knowledge of people trained in education and human development.

A long time ago, special education was limited in scope to certain disabilities. Although it has undergone a significant overhaul over the years in both the spectrum of students it covers (gifted students, students with processing issues, and attention deficit students are now classified as special needs students) as well as the way that special education is administered (in most cases students stay with all other students in a classroom while specialists push in), the stigma of being a special ed student is still present. However, it isn’t present in the classroom with the students as it was when many of us were children. The stigma is felt by their parents. As a result of these misconstrued notions, well intentioned parents end up withholding the services that their children need. These parents are like King Priam – their love and intentions are not in question, but the results of their decision are destructive to the people they were seeking to protect.

This is not to say that Isaac’s future is as sealed as the citizens of Troy after King Priam ignored the pleas of Cassandra. Children sometimes outgrow obstacles to their learning. Other times, they find ways to cope with these issues. Maybe parents find other ways to help their child or get them the help that is needed later in their lives. However, that doesn’t change the fact that listening to Cassandra would have been sound advice.

Like most people, I like to be right. It’s a smug feeling when my opinions have been validated by results. However, when it comes to the education of brilliant young Isaacs around the world, it won’t feel good if I’m right. I want them to succeed without the help that child psychologists and teachers feel is essential. Whether or not these children get the help that they need, it doesn’t change my desire for them to achieve their highest potential. It also doesn’t change my desire for their parents to get them the help that will help them achieve their best.

Should I ever have an Isaac in my classroom, I hope I never have a time when I look sadly at the outcome of his life and think, “I told you so.” Instead, I hope more than anything to think, “Wow, look what he accomplished! Boy, was I wrong.”

*Editor's Note: Issac is a metaphor for special needs children across the nation that are not receiving the support they need. This is not intended to represent any individual student.

The Year of the Nickname

The Year of the Nickname







At the end of last quarter, as I was grading papers, one of my students walked in my door before her afterschool program began and said,

“Hi Bigfoot.”

I looked at her questioningly as she stood there without expression in front of me, blinking from behind her horn rimmed glasses. She is the smallest student in the 5th grade, has an adorable and ever-so-slight lisp, and a dry sense of humor that belies her age. I looked from my feet to hers, then replied,

“Hi Littlefoot,” and picked up the next test I was grading while pretending to peruse it.

“Why did you call me Littlefoot?” she asked after a few seconds.

I looked up from the test in my hands.

“Why did you call me Bigfoot?” I asked back to her.

“Because you have big feet.” Apparently, my size 10 shoes appeared enormous to this small child.

“Well, you have little feet,” I responded.

“Oh, ok. Bye!”

She turned around and walked out the door, a little spring to each step accompanying her little feet.

I’d guess that my experiences as a teacher aren’t entirely unique comparative to other teachers. With each day comes something totally new and unexpected, and with each year come things that resonate as the central theme of that school year. For me and my classroom, last year was the Year of the Stick.

According to the lunar calendar, the New Year began on January 23rd of this year. According to the Chinese zodiac, 2012 is the Year of the Dragon. In my classroom, this is not the Year of the Dragon. It is the Year of the Nickname.

The first nickname was borne from a joke one of my students told. The second – a nickname given to their teacher – came from the children’s imaginations. Along the way, other nicknames have been doled out to various members of the class – Pluto, Brynoceros, Gizmo, and Littlefoot among them. In January, Littlefoot came to me before school began one day as I was writing a message on the board. She handed me a note that now hangs on my refrigerator door:

Dear Mr. Bigfoot,

I need help with these things below. (Geometry, algebra, and fractions are circled). I really want to bump up my grade.

Love, Littlefoot

Underneath her writing she had drawn a series of feet of varying sizes. After I had finished reading, I looked at the adorable, bespectacled face that was blinking expressionlessly up at me. Although I was beaming inside, I did my best not to let that show.

“Don’t worry about algebra. That’ll be something you do in depth in the 7th grade. We will cover fractions again in our next unit so you’ll get plenty of practice. And, we just started our geometry unit so let’s wait a few days before you think you need help. If you still think that, I’ll be happy to work with you after school or during lunch.”

“Oh. Ok.” She turned and began to walk away.

“Hey Littlefoot,” I called to her. She turned around and looked expectantly at me.

“I love how you are taking your learning seriously. That means you will be just fine.”

She smiled at me, then turned and walked out of my room with the little spring in her step accompanying those little feet once more. She might have thought I meant that her math grades would be just fine, but my words were meant to have a larger scope. According to the Chinese Zodiac, a person who is a dragon has the following characteristics:

A dragon overcomes obstacles until success is his. He is energetic, decisive, optimistic, intelligent and ambitious. The Dragon person is self confident and impulsive and consequently does not always listen to the advice of others. He is also a perfectionist and he sets high standards for himself.




Sounds about right for my friend Littlefoot.

One day, long after she has left fifth grade, and after her high school and college graduations, maybe I’ll catch wind of what lofty heights she has achieved. In a moment which would epitomize the reward for being a teacher, my heart would smile as I think fondly back at my Valentine’s Day gift from her – a chocolate apple wrapped in gold foil simply labeled,

To: Bigfoot

From: Littlefoot

My dear Littlefoot, may those little feet spring you to great heights in your future.

Love,

Mr. Lin

Finally... a little Lin-tegrity in the NBA!!!

Disclaimer: I am not related to Jeremy Lin

Sorry everyone for the lapse in time between posts. I've never been a huge NBA fan - maybe because my team is the Washington Wizards - but I've been swept up in the Linsanity that defies imagination.

For another Lin-sane post, check out the guest post here I did for July Flame. If you’re not a follower of her blog, I highly recommend it – her posts are full of wit, thought, and truth.

In actuality, one of the biggest reasons why I love college basketball but have always had a disdain for the NBA is the personalities. The NBA is a breeding ground for individualism, which leads to selfishness and millionaire athletes that think the world centers around them. They have been catered to and coddled their entire lives because they can play basketball, and most jump at the first chance to leave school early for the NBA. Only 21 percent of players in the NBA have their undergraduate degrees.

The sad thing is, these spoiled and half educated basketball players have become unwitting role models for young children. With other sports like football and baseball, it seems as if most athletes recognize this and try to set good examples for the impressionable minds that admire them. Basketball however, has been a stunning contradiction, with players having an attitude first put on display in this Nike ad starring Charles Barkley:



To be fair, I think the message the Sir Charles was trying to get across was that parents need to take more responsibility for their own kids. But, that’s a whole new post for another time. Today, I want to celebrate the NBA for finally producing an honest-to-God role model in Jeremy Lin. What’s there not to like about a guy who:

1) Went to Harvard and graduated with a degree in Economics
2) Led every team he has been on to championships
3) Persisted through every adversity (not recruited out of high school, not drafted out of college, and cut twice by NBA teams) to become a star
4) Persisted to overcome stereotypes to become the best basketball player in Ivy League history and an NBA starting point guard
5) Is humble with the praise that is being heaped upon him, giving credit to everyone except himself

Jeremy Lin is a far cry from what I have come to expect from NBA players. In a world that has been glamorized by the media and is proliferated by infidelity in relationships, greed, and selfishness, a man that was unknown to the world a few weeks could be a role model for a generation of children desperately seeking men they can look up to. Will others follow?

Join me in following basketball. Join me in cheering on the New York Knicks – even if you have a different team that you follow. Join me in hoping and praying that the NBA can produce more men of dignity that the children of our country – our future – can model their lives after.

God, please watch over our future. It takes a village to raise a child. May good parents, teachers, big brothers/sisters, neighbors and great role models all be part of every village. Amen.

Sports - the Evil Empire?

Baseball – it’s America’s pastime for more reasons than merely being a game many of us enjoy. Looking through our history, baseball has been part of the rebuilding process after many disasters, from the Great Depression of the 1930s to the aftermath of 9/11. As a fan of both baseball and history, I love how baseball has been interwoven into our culture at a deeper level than other sports I enjoy, but am not as deeply connected to as an American.

As such, I can see a stark contrast to baseball and our current economic crisis we are in. A few days ago, the Detroit Tigers – home of one of the most economically destroyed cities in the United States – reached out and signed a player for 214 million dollars, and an average of $23 million per year.

LZ Granderson, a Detroit Tigers fan who also is a senior writer at ESPN, writes a phenomenal article on this disconnect here. Yes, cities aren’t responsible for the salaries of baseball players. However, the fact that Detroit’s baseball team can pay a player more than any one police district in the city is a testament to the insanity we Americans have for our favorite sports teams. How is it that our priorities are such that the success of a city’s baseball team is more important to us than the success of our school districts and safety of our streets? Yes, we don't pay the salaries of athletes. At least, not directly. Every time we shell out $50 for a ticket however, or $6 for a hot dog at the game, $160 for a jersey, or buy the sports package on TV, we are fueling the rising salaries of players and lining the pockets of the already rich owners. We are, in fact, paying these ridiculously wealthy people with our obsession with games we would all love to play for free.

I have a confession to make: I’m a huge sports fan, and a fan of the New York Yankees (aka the “Evil Empire”) at that. However, when people complain about how much the Yankees spend, they always compare it to how much other baseball teams spend. Shouldn’t we instead be complaining about how we as a population prioritize sports to the point that baseball players and actors are worth much more than the quality of education that our students get? I'm not saying we should boycott sports or that enjoying professional athletics is wrong (there is no way on earth I myself could stop!), but perhaps some moderation in necessary.

John F. Kennedy once said,

"children are the world’s most valuable resource."

Perhaps it’s time that we begin taking heed of that remark and stop feeding the economic insanity that has become the world of sports and begin to feed our education system. The future of our nation and our world is more important than the Super Bowl, World Series, or even the World Cup.

MLK, a 10 Year Old Girl, and the Perfect Role Model

MLK

“But there is something that I must say to my people who stand on the warm threshold which leads into the palace of justice. In the process of gaining our rightful place we must not be guilty of wrongful deeds. Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of bitterness and hatred.

We must forever conduct our struggle on the high plane of dignity and discipline. We must not allow our creative protest to degenerate into physical violence. Again and again we must rise to the majestic heights of meeting physical force with soul force… Continue to work with the faith that unearned suffering is redemptive.”

If you, like me, didn’t recognize these words upon first glance, it may be because these words are overshadowed by the more famous words,

“I have a dream.”

I’m a bit ashamed to say that I hadn’t read his speech in its entirety before this week, and if you haven’t as well you can find it here. It is (obviously) a deeply moving piece and his intricate use of vocabulary and figurative language made me realize that he was not only an incredible visionary and civil rights leader, but he was also brilliant as a writer. Anyhow, on to my post…


A 10 Year Old Girl

A few weeks ago I sat down to have a conference with a girl after a week where she got in multiple confrontations with many students, was generally disrespectful and ornery to teachers and peers alike, and even had to take a walk to calm herself down because (in her words):

“I don’t like it when good things happen to other people and not me.”

Several minutes into the conversation, this exchange took place:

Me: “Are you happy more than you are angry? Or are you angry more than you are happy?"
Student (arms crossed): “I’m angry more. I’m angry all the time.”
Me: “Why do you think that is?”
Student: “Because people make me mad.”
Me: “Why do people make you mad?”
Student: “Because I don’t like them.”
Me: “Why don’t you like them?”
Student: “Because no one likes me.”
Me: “Why do you think no one likes you?”
Student: “I don’t know.”
Me: “Do you think it’s because you’re mean to other students?”
Student: “Well, they make me mad and annoy me!”
Me: “Everyone makes you mad?”
Student: “Well, Teresa* doesn’t. She’s nice to me. But, she’s nice to everyone.”
Me: “That’s interesting. Do you think Teresa is happy most of the time?”
Student: “Yeah, she’s always happy. I’ve never seen her get mad.”
Me: “So what you’re saying is that Teresa is nice to everyone and she’s always happy?”
Student (pauses): “Yeah…”

A light of uncertainty and recognition flickered in her usually hate-filled eyes.

***************************
Next Monday is Martin Luther King Day and this week in Language Arts we have been reading and analyzing Dr. King’s speech. After discussing how Dr. King’s groundbreaking idea of peaceful demonstration proved to be far more effective than violence, that same little girl raised her hand.

“My mom tells me that if somebody does something I don’t like I should fight back. She tells me to hit people if they bother me. Shouldn’t I listen to my mom?"

The same flickering light I saw in her eyes a few weeks ago was back.

A 10 year old girl who is constantly angry at the world – but has the utmost admiration for Martin Luther King – seems to have come to a crossroad. I wonder… will the beacon of hope that radiates from Martin Luther King’s words overcome the darkness that engulfs her in her home environment? A few days dedicated to learning the philosophies of the staunchest proponent of peace in our nation’s history is trying to overcome a lifetime of cancerous hatred that is being fed to her by the person that holds the most influence on her young mind.

The Perfect Role Model

2,000 years ago, as He was being arrested in the garden of Gethsemane, Jesus stopped His followers from drawing swords against his accusers. In submitting to peace, He proclaimed His love to all and in doing so ensured the success of the greatest civil rights movement in human history.

The Reverend Martin Luther King, Jr. had the perfect role model to lead him, one that he turned to every day of his life. In doing so, he led our nation's great Civil Rights Movement and became an incredible role model to others - even 10 year old children that have less-than-ideal home environments. I pray for these children. I hope you will as well – even those of you that don’t usually pray.


*Name changed

Tebowing (noun)

“I don’t want to get married… because I see how my parents are. And they’ve been together, like, years… I want first kisses. I want passion… the whole way through.”

This obscure quote is from the movie “Reality Bites.” The title of this movie – and this quote – is very appropriate to our culture. We love the honeymoon stage, where everything is a dreamlike and perfect, where every high builds on the last one, and we ride the wave of bliss that can seemingly carry us to anywhere imaginable.

We are all wise enough to recognize the immaturity of this thinking. It isn’t realistic to stay permanently in the honeymoon period of anything. Despite this, this type of thinking is found in our culture in places beyond marriage.

Tebowing
1. Verb - The act of emulating Tim Tebow by getting on one knee with fist on forehead as if in prayer. (example)
2. Noun - The state of human infatuation, otherwise known as the honeymoon period.

I, like many football fans around the country, am on my honeymoon with Tim Tebow. He is a fantastic human being who always takes time to talk with fans. He treats every person he meets like they are important. And, in the egotistical world of professional sports while playing arguably the most ego-centric position, he is humble beyond comprehension. Amplifying the intrigue is Tebow’s unwavering profession of faith which causes people to either be drawn in closer to him, or be repelled by him.

It’s easy to get caught up in Tebowing when his exploits take a team from a 1-4 start to 8-5 and the brink of a playoff spot. It’s easy for our hearts to be warmed by a person who says all the right things, does all the right things, and – despite constant talk about how he doesn’t have the requisite skills to be an NFL quarterback – doesn’t have a chip on his shoulder and takes his criticism in stride with humility. It is easy to love when all is going well.

Sadly, we are nearing the end of the honeymoon stage with Tim Tebow. The past two weeks (losses to the Patriots and the Bills) have brought us past the first kisses and passion of initial love. The luster of our torrid affair gives way to the realization that reality does indeed bite – Tim Tebow is not without his warts. Off the field, it’s almost a guarantee that he will in some way disappoint his legions of fans as well – after all, he’s only human. It’s safe to say that his millions of fans will dwindle down, and we will recognize that our ‘love’ of Tebow was actually infatuation, something that does not hold up to the trials that were bound to happen. Tim Tebow won’t be a different person because of his eventual failures. The only thing different will be our inability to look past his flaws. This means the WE are the problem; or, more succinctly, the problem is our inability to cope when things don’t go how we want them to.

Today, Tim Tebow needs to lead his team to victory in order to ensure a spot in the playoffs. Will he succeed? The better question is,

“Will he still be the same man regardless of the outcome of the game?”

Many people unfairly compare Tim Tebow to Christ. Unfortunately, Tebow is destined to fail, whereas Christ is not. There is, however, one area where there is an accurate comparison: we, the followers.

In our lives, there are many variations of Tebowing. It might be a relationship, a hobby, or a job. It might even be our view of God. Will we choose to move past the honeymoon stage?