Being an Immigrant

In regular NPR fashion, WNYC has been doing this Becoming an American series every morning ramping up to Thanksgiving. Obviously, it prompts me to think of the choices I've made to become a citizen in more ways than on paper. This one Indian girl with a very Indian name talked about how even now as an adult she still feels only half-American, despite spending most of her life here. Compounding this with Megan's post on creating a new kind of citizenship, and going to Grace's Korean home for Thanksgiving, serving with a large contingent of Asians at the Bowery Mission on Monday, I've thought about my pinoy-ness at odd moments in recent days.

It's weird to become self-aware of the fact that I am a Pilipina, in my current way of life, it's a bit of a reach. But what's cool about being in the working world, is I really see a lot of normal wage-earning Pilipinos running around, speaking my language, cracking jokes they think no one will hear. It reminds me so much of my parents, and how they're exactly like these folks, most especially since I'm involved in work that my dad precisely used to do. I look at the IT project leader sometimes with his thick accent (not pinoy btw) and I think of my father. This one Finance pinoy manager has a distinctly nasal quality to his English, and I caught up with him on the train once. Turns out, he lives on Long Island, his daughter is a Senior at NYU and will be going to law school. We also talked about Stern summer interns he had hired, one of which was really bratty. We talked about where I was from in the Philippines and the major development that's happened around my childhood home and subdivision, we talked about development around my old Catholic school, what it was like the last time we were there, the new mall, the infamous LRT.

Something the NPR series pointed out for one guy was the fact that most people will assume you're American. That is, if you are assimilated enough. It was weird when I became a citizen and was telling people about it, most people were surprised. Most people don't know how hard and costly it is to become one either. But because I really do have minimal, what I affectionately call, "immigrant moments" where diction or lack of knowledge betray, I seem like a perfectly normal young American. And indeed, I am. Thus, another point of tension part of the wider one of justification and sanctification.

It was hard growing up in Arizona. I had to go through a lot of misunderstandings about my identity. There was this one kid, Ryan (from Alaska..go figure), who seriously, seriously thought I was making up my ethnicity, even after I showed him a 25 centavo coin (probably didn't help that it was gold and has a butterfly on it, making it look token-ish)...until he met my mom (he lived around the block from me) then he was very, very nice to me. His father was an A/C repairer and fixed our central air. A lot of people thought I was Native American, or Mexican, or Hawaiian...rarely would they figure it right the first time. Then there's my blessed name, and people would think I was Greek. My parents seemed like anti-social people and do not, to this day, make friends with my friends' parents. My father is going to go into high stress, if he ever has to meet Ben's parents. It sucks to think I caught a lot of my shy tendencies from this. I'm too different, I'm too complicated, we have so little in common, better not try to bridge the gap. I have really cramped small talk skills. I didn't have a lot of examples of people standing around talking about nothing while their children play. I can't help but make small talk something more serious, otherwise I want to kill myself out of the madness.

Really though, my parents are great people. My father is a hilarious, jolly human being with a amazing servant's heart. My mother is a super empathetic, encouraging person. They both talk endlessly about politics, art, travel, business, and all implications of life. They're intelligent people. But place them in Arizona and I don't think my father specifically has found much community, even after 13 years. He really only talks to the dog, my mother, and sometimes his children. He writes these amazing emails about food, filled with rich history. He really is a great poet, his Tagalog is the deepest I'd ever dare read (he won many speech writing awards in school).

I know this has turned into a I love my parents fest, but really I'm just trying to make a case that being an immigrant makes things complicated, even for fluent English speakers. Arizona was not only so different from the Philippines, but it was a different America from the movies we saw. There are no brownstones, green lawns (except if you specifically look for it), brick houses with long driveways just white stucco, pink buildings, and red mountain landscapes. Nothing was familiar. I found myself constantly grasping for something that I could feel was mine and intimately connected to my identity. Well, duh, of course I know this happens to everyone, as we don't belong in this broken world. I'm just trying to express it in my terms as an immigrant.

Really, this is a process of not forgetting. I need to remember what it was like when I felt so left out of the world, that I thought I and/or God made a mistake. I spent a lot of time waiting for life to be over. I need to remember that Jesus walked the earth feeling exactly what I felt yet even more so, and died for the world anyway and was ultimately on the cross left out of the only community we really want to be in, the Father's. He not only welcomes, He knows. So that whenever I feel distant from things that I once felt intimate with (whether people, hobbies, or culture), whenever I feel like I'm being fake and it's obstructing my connection with people, I know that these are mere shadows of the deepest intimacy I've ever had and that is with my God. It is impossible for me to fake who I am with Him. It's ok for me to be confused about who I am too, since I don't determine that, He does. I always belong anyway, because I belong to Him.

Commuting

There are certain things that make living in NY horrible. On my list number 1 is laundry. Number 2 is COMMUTING. It's not even the length of it (because on that point I have no right to complain since many, many people have longer commutes than I; and to an extent I choose where I live), it's the psychology of it. Man, I thought I knew what commuting was in school, but no, no you really don't until you get the Grand Central-esque experience of people in black coats and boots moving really quickly and purposefully. Moving en masse with millions of New Yorkers on a twice daily basis can make my soul feel pretty sapped. Here's what sucks:

1) The constant and persistent pushing/jostling/touching a stranger
2) Establishment of dominance (either by me or someone else) so that the other person steps aside/stays put
3) Dull, unhappy faces
4) The thought that once I get to my destination, I am stuck there for some period of time, and if not, I feel my time is wasted.
5) The feeling that I am constantly surrounded and in public, anonymous yet exposed.

I am currently commuting at least 2 hours a day. A longer commute might be a little more relaxing as there is probably a longer stretch of not being in the mode of 2) (though it is a detriment to sleep and sanity; I had a 3 hours a day commute to ML when I still lived in Jersey City), and a shorter commute would of course be great in general (though not realistic for most people in this city). Millions of people do what I do, I tell myself. I have actually seen a few people come from Astoria to Pavonia/Newport with me. It's not uncommon at all, but that only makes it more of a problem than making me feel any better.

So the fact that the MTA is cutting the W line this spring is gonna really piss me off I fear. It's cutting the service up there in half and will equal longer waits or more crowded trains...well both. Either way, it's a longer, rougher commute for a higher price.

Life doesn't suck all that much, but I thought I should finally vet out some of my feelings about the issue being a long time commuter in the tri-state area. I look forward to someday finally having a "normal" 30-minute commute!!!

Pure Notes

So this is a bit of a cop out, but really, it's revealing. I haven't had the time to really read through my notes from Pure until now (mainly because I had lent my notebook to someone). I thought I would just write out some pieces of it. I'm an arrows kind of person, I see people speaking in connections to the next thing they're saying.

Friday night - Paige Brown - Hannah's Desperate Heart 1 Samuel 1-2
We are not sufferers in need of a helper, we are sinners in need of a savior.

Desperation is leading Hannah to Jesus -> tears constitute prayer -> The Lord will mourn for you.

The song is about rejoicing in the Lord -> desperate heart is satisfied with knowing the Lord

We all have desperate lives, do you have a desperate heart?

Saturday morning - bah, I forget her name (Melissa Tamplin's counselor) - Sex, Just Say No
spiritual maturity = spiritual purity = sexual purity -> really talking about spiritual maturity

He blesses us where we are not because we're good, but He's good.

God uses His presence to invade you so you don't settle. -> conviction

Devil only has access to this life not our eternal one -> the purer we are the less power the enemy has from keeping us away from God's love.

repentance -> God takes your best (which is utter crap) and says "Yes, this is just what I wanted!"

If men are needy then God sends them another man -> Jesus.

You can't ruin what God has for you.

God is totally capable of saying Yes or No -> if He doesn't do anything He's trusting You w/ your spiritual maturity.

Saturday Lunch - Lynette Lewis
Everyone comes to a point where your dream is tested -> a process of separating the dream from the dreamer -> your dream feels forgotten -> God has set you apart, but not aside.

Choose to invest in the joy of your friends -> you will not be short-changed.

Saturday afternoon - Kathy Keller - Don't Waste Your Sorrows
If you didn't have the prior relationship [with God] before the suffering, then you don't get to access the comfort during the suffering.

God wants us to have a party in the valley of the shadow of death.

Redemption has cost God His Son -> He must think it was worth it.

Saturday night - Paige Brown - Eli's Compromised Heart 1 Samuel 2:12-36
Hard hearts are further hardened with God's judgment.

You're always floating somewhere.

God does not eliminate the competition, He says choose!

God cannot and does not forgive sin -> He forgives sinners -> sin must be paid for.

God says, "I do see you, and you're beautiful." -> not because you are, because you are His.

Sunday morning - Paige Brown - Samuel's Useful Heart 1 Samuel 3
God's word is grace -> absence of God's word is judgment -> when the Word is not received it is not sent.

The Bible is God's primary means of grace.

You know you've received, when you respond.

Our words are not deeds -> God's words make reality.

The Bible is about what God did for you, not what you should do for God.

6 months

I realized that I haven't really acknowledged how I've been 6 months out of school now. I already feel like a different person. I think for the first time I'm feeling the first fruits of the transition, with all of its struggles. It doesn't mean I got it all down pat or that I'm perfect or I will never struggle with the meaninglessness and solitude of life again, just that I've been through a lot and it's starting to show in the right ways. I'm making it through by the sheer grace of God, transforming my iniquities for His purposes.

It's a great feeling to have that one of the major transitions in my life is somewhat over. I am a working young adult with a daily routine and I'm on the train 2 hours a day and I read my WSJ that's on my front patio every morning and I worry about the dishes and having a clean bathroom. There's no turning back, I will never be a college student again (b-school will definitely NOT be the same), and for the first time, that's a positive in my mind. Not by stressing the negative of being a student nor the positive of being an adult, just really starting to rest in the fact that I am where I'm at right now because God likes me there, and that's just fine.

The rest of my group left work hours ago, so I'm gonna just go as well. haHA, freedom ftw!

Disney

So the past weeks or so I haven't been listening to my iPod. Not for any sense of unplugging really, just because the little squishy thing on one of my ear buds has gone missing (AGAIN) and I would just rather go without than try to figure out where the replacement is at home.

Oddly enough, this has caused more Disney songs to play over and over again in my head (really the question is, how did I memorize all these songs?). Namely from Pocahontas and Hunchback. I think Pocahontas was seriously underrated. I particularly like "Just Around the Riverbend" - "Why do all my dreams extend just around the riverbend?" "Is all my dreaming at an end, or do you still wait for me Dreamgiver, just around the riverbend?" - I can't believe I learned this on the piano once. So fast!

Today, I was thinking of "Out There" - "Out there, strolling by the Seine, taste the morning out there, like ordinary men." "I swear I'll be content with my share, no regret, won't resent, old and bent, I won't care, I'd have spent one day out there." and "Heaven's Light" - "As I ring these bells tonight, my cold dark tower seems so bright, I swear it must be heaven's light."

I don't really have a point, except that Disney songs are beautiful.

My Name

Again, in the Beth Moore study, she talks about how Jesus grew up being favored among men and with God. Really cool thing I didn't know, "favor" really means grace aka charis which we all know is what my name is. I like how it really means the kind of grace "that which affords joy, pleasure, delight, sweetness, charm, loveliness". That's very expensive grace indeed! Because it's my name, I rarely really think about how deep that word really is, and how much it means for my life and my parents. Here's another, fuller (or is that more full) explanation of my name.

A lot of people who hear my name for the first time give me the normal, "Oh really?!" and then soften to a "that's beautiful actually!". Oddly enough, I don't find my name beautiful per se. Like the way Xaris is said doesn't make me react the same way a name like Laura or Sophia does (to name a few). But people think this name sounds beautiful, even when they don't know what it means. That's always been something I wondered about. Maybe the meaning just comes through, the fact that it's in the Bible as such may make people just connect with that subconsciously, spiritually. I don't know, I think I just want to romanticize my name more than I should.

As one can imagine, there were a few times in my life when I just felt awkward with my name (from substitute teachers to stupid boys taunting me to people being utterly unable to remember me for lack of learning; happening in different ways in both America and the Philippines), but I never ever didn't like it. It makes me wonder about the white stone and what sort of new name is Jesus going to give me? Maybe Sophia (which means wisdom)?

I also like how every part of my full name means something. Extra credit if you know them ;).

Meetings

I don't know if it's been obvious, but the past few days I just haven't a clue what to write about. So I just grab something random in my head and write about it. Let's see, what will it be today?

How about meetings...Things can get kind of hairy at work. There's politics going on in any work environment, and it always makes things dicey. It's interesting though, because it almost always never shows up in clear view at a meeting, but my project being what it is, there's a bit more drama involved. So I think it shows up more often than in normal offices and in plain view, not like in whisperings and one-on-one conversations behind closed doors. Which is great for me, because meetings are when I turn on, and when I get to do something, and when I can say I am doing something. Don't get me wrong, the real issues are still rather muted. I hate it when all the drama is played out in emails that I'm not a part of or conversations I could never have with any of the clients. I feel like I never really know what's going on until the meeting (which is too late and that's all the advantage I got at this job really).

Anyway, I think my point is real world meetings are different and more showy. You never get anything actually done in a meeting, just a lot of questions and posturing. But in college world, meetings were hairy as it was. Issues were fleshed out and argued over. Real decisions were made (not left open ended to be decided quietly) sometimes rather dramatically.

Knitting

I'm kind of really excited about this. Only because it's a lot closer to being "on the way home" for me. This hobby has proven to be one of the most awesome things in my life right now. It includes a lot of things that makes Xaris very happy. First of all, there's the repetitive, easy task which creates slow and easy progress. Then there's the creative aspect of it, like I'm actually making something out of something else. There's the looking forward to the goal, making something beautiful. It just makes me feel productive, and I can do it basically anywhere. And surprisingly enough, I can do it at work without much of a problem. It's even a conversation starter with the guys. "My mother does that too!" "I really like that color!" Do not ask me how I get away with the things I get away with. I just don't know anymore.

Babies

Ben told me about what he learned from this developmental psychologist at his clerkship. Babies 0-6 months old are going through a withdrawal process in which they still feel like they're connected to their mothers body, if only through her breast. It's like the embilical cord was cut, but the baby doesn't know it yet. As they get on to 8 months or something, they'll start to understand they are separate from their mother. This is also when they'll start refusing things and saying no. This is confusing for some parents as they may see this as an expression of ingratitude, when really the baby is just realizing a separateness, and it is a good part of development.

So I've been going through the Beth Moore study about Jesus. And I thought about how weird it is that Jesus was a baby. Not a novel thought I'm sure, but the fact that he went through these stages, just like all of us. Jesus was a helpless baby who still felt connected to Mary's body until several months later when he would begin to form a sense of individuality as a baby.

I started volunteering at the Redeemer nursery, and it's been good to get some baby time (it's coming up this Sunday!). I think as a young person in NYC, I just don't get enough time with certain age groups. Basically, I spend a lot of time with people my age and middle aged men, that's boring. Babies just show you how remarkable the process of growing up is. It's amazing how much they figure out on their own and learn in just one month. Being able to walk, knowing which shapes go into what hole, or learning how to dance just seem so amazing from someone who can barely speak. How do they figure stuff like that out? Babies are pretty awesome.

The Great White Way

As if God were granting my wish, Ben and I saw Wicked last night...for free!! That's right free c/o Columbia. I went up to the main campus to meet Ben first in line for the tickets and I realized that the last time I was there was October 2003, when I was terribly sick and didn't even go through the campus tour. And it dawned on me that Ben goes to Columbia...Columbia! What? Weird. Truly the med school is NOT like the main campus at all. A logical debate even ensued while we were in line (about whether a girl was cutting or not). The other girl articulated her argument well, but NYU students would've just put in expletives and a bit more drama and accusation into it.

Anyway, as I was watching the show, I realized that I hadn't seen Wicked since Freshman year. A lot has happened. Which means I didn't really see the show the same way I did before. I remember crying more and generally feeling that real life was unfair. Essentially, thinking the story was completely improbable and had nothing to do with my real life. I think most women who see that show feel empowered, but I just felt like it was all wishful thinking, that I was too weak for it to be true. I was pretty depressing. I think this is the reason why I never really was one of those people who liked to sing or hear Wicked songs. It reminded me of hopelessness, even now.

This time I watched it with a sense of distance and nostalgia. With a sense that, wow, it kinda mirrored the last four years quite nicely. There's facing the core lie, being freed from the bondage of old idols, being loved and accepted for who I really am, making (unexpected) friends, self-doubt and struggle, being given a vision for life, forgiveness, redemption and more. Wicked is a coming of age story, basically, that really happens to parallel my own.

Oh and we saw Equus on Tuesday (this one was paid for and planned). We got seats on stage, so we were the closest we'll probably ever be to Daniel Radcliffe (in case you don't know, he gets completely naked). And it was just so wonderfully good. I can't believe how great it was theologically. Basically talking about how we all need to worship something, to be passionate for something. Ben and I thought how weird it was that BECAUSE we're Christians, we could relate to the crazy 17-year-old better. We recognized our own craziness and depravity in him as well as the desperate need for a Savior. We aren't really "normal" in this broken world.

It's been pretty exhausting. Not only are my sleep patterns messed up, but there's all of that stuff to think about, all stuck in my head with nowhere to go. It feels like it's already Friday today.