BE MOVED.

August 28th, 1963- The great Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. tells of a dream he had, on the March to Washington, D.C.    All men are created equal; and that this nation would rise up, holding this truth to be self-evident, is what he couldn't have wished more for. 

Even more inspiring than his "I have a dream" speech, in my opinion, was Dr. King's raw, up-close-and personal letter he addressed to the clergymen while he was being jailed at Birmingham.  From his jail cell were these words:   

We have waited for more than 340 years for our constitutional and God-given rights. The nations of Asia and Africa are moving with jetlike speed toward gaining political independence, but we stiff creep at horse-and-buggy pace toward gaining a cup of coffee at a lunch counter. Perhaps it is easy for those who have never felt the stinging dark of segregation to say, "Wait." But when you have seen vicious mobs lynch your mothers and fathers at will and drown your sisters and brothers at whim; when you have seen hate-filled policemen curse, kick and even kill your black brothers and sisters; when you see the vast majority of your twenty million Negro brothers smothering in an airtight cage of poverty in the midst of an affluent society; when you suddenly find your tongue twisted and your speech stammering as you seek to explain to your six-year-old daughter why she can't go to the public amusement park that has just been advertised on television, and see tears welling up in her eyes when she is told that Funtown is closed to colored children, and see ominous clouds of inferiority beginning to form in her little mental sky, and see her beginning to distort her personality by developing an unconscious bitterness toward white people; when you have to concoct an answer for a five-year-old son who is asking: "Daddy, why do white people treat colored people so mean?"; when you take a cross-county drive and find it necessary to sleep night after night in the uncomfortable corners of your automobile because no motel will accept you; when you are humiliated day in and day out by nagging signs reading "white" and "colored"; when your first name becomes "nigger," your middle name becomes "boy" (however old you are) and your last name becomes "John," and your wife and mother are never given the respected title "Mrs."; when you are harried by day and haunted by night by the fact that you are a Negro, living constantly at tiptoe stance, never quite knowing what to expect next, and are plagued with inner fears and outer resentments; when you no forever fighting a degenerating sense of "nobodiness" then you will understand why we find it difficult to wait. There comes a time when the cup of endurance runs over, and men are no longer willing to be plunged into the abyss of despair. I hope, sirs, you can understand our legitimate and unavoidable impatience.

He wouldn't let anyone shut him up.  I admire that about him.    When his freedom was taken away that night at his jail cell, this man only became stronger. 

"I'm pressed but not crushed, persecuted, but not abandoned...struck down, but not destroyed...."

                                                                   ON ANCESTRY

                       I have to admit, I was never too proud of the way some of my relatives turned out to be.  The  Wang family had gotten itself into trouble too many times.  When I say "trouble," I do mean some pretty serious trouble.  The men of this household were the worst: 

- My uncle was once the head of a Taiwanese Mafia

-My other uncle was wanted by the United States FBI at one time.

- My older cousin?  Arrested (several times) for gang-related activities.

Dad didn't do much better,  He's in trouble with the government in China, but I won't get into it. 

  I told countless friends that I was the one and only in my entire lineage who believed in Jesus Christ.  Inside, I wanted to be a "hope" for the Wang family's future, I guess you could say.  I mean, with all this sin, I was BOUND to have been the ONLY Christian in all of my lineage. 

Right?  Yesterday, Jesus proved me wrong.  My dad and I sat down and had lunch together.  As he was lecturing me on how not to get fat, this burning question suddenly grabbed at my heart. 

"DAD??  dad?  If grandpa was a philosopher, then what did Great Grandpa do?"

My dad answered without hesitation.  "Your great grandpa was a pastor, dear."

"........REALLY???"

"Yeah.  In fact, he died in his congregation.  He was giving a passionate sermon, and in the heat of his preaching, his body got too carried away and shut down.  He suffered from a stroke right then, and died."

Incredible.

I then thought to myself that I just may have been my great grandfather's answer to prayer  I don't know- but, it's amazing what you learn about yourself after you find out what pathways your ancestors took. 

This new piece of inspired knowledge is Jesus's Christmas gift to me, no doubt.

                                                          "ACTING STUPID"

     I told all of my kids that they would kick butt on their district's standardized tests, but like all middle school classrooms, Avel was an exception. 

 He happily turned in his test to me one morning and said, "I'm done!" I thanked him and put it in my folder.  But before the paper slipped back into the bag, something quickly caught my eye- I saw a PERFECTLY shaped "8" design craftily bubbled into his answer sheet.  I was so proud of him that I called his mom up right away.  "Your son decided to get creative," I told her on my cell phone.  "He acted stupid in my class and just failed himself- please congratulate him."   As his teacher, I was so angry.  But afterwards, I could hardly contain myself.    He's doing better now, but there's still a long way to go.

Then there is Kevin.  Remember the boy that fell off our school balcony during my fourth day of teaching?  One day, he decided to make paper snowflakes during my lecture on subject/predicate agreements.  and WHAT an artist he was!   Since he was so enthusiastic about snowflake-making, I had him make THIRTY more snowflakes- one for every student in the class. 

I'm so blessed here though.

In my first period, 85% of the class raises their hand when I ask a question. 

In my 6th period, I have BOTH the class secretary and class president.  

In my 3rd period.....well, can't win'em all :)  But they gave me a teacher's aid, so that helps.

    What a reward teaching is :)