Don't ever regret anything. Live life with no regrets.
Ever heard of that before? If you know me well enough, you'll always hear me either say that to myself or preach that to others. I'd like to give a public apology if I've ever preached those words to you because I'm being a hypocrite and going back on my word. There are some things you just can't regret, like grades or not working hard enough or doing drugs.
I know what I regret. Where have I been this whole summer? Not helping out my mom at the house. Not catching up with my sister and asking her about her life-changing experience in Madrid, Italy, France, and all those crazy places. Not hanging out with the homies back home, who I've been through almost everything with in high school. Not playing basketball with my nephew who has looked forward to playing ball with his uncle in the summer ALL school year. Not taking my other little cousin out to get ice cream. What the hell have I been doing?
Taking summer school classes at UCLA. Not only have I messed up so badly this summer in terms of classes, I messed up because I missed out on something so important that I will never be able to get back. I will never be able to get back the time I missed with my family and friends in San Jose.
I will be going home tomorrow, for what I thought was going to be 6 days long. I was planning on coming back to LA before Thursday for training at my job. Instead, I just got an email from my supervisor telling me that training starts Tuesday, 2 days earlier. I wasn't planning on making everything right in 6 days, but how the hell am I supposed to even attempt to do any of those things in just 4 days? I'm not blaming this on anyone but myself. I've dug myself this hole, trying to do everything. Trying to get ahead. Trying to get all this experience to make me look good for medical school. But where is this getting me?
Is this what I really want? I know I want to be a doctor, but do I really want to lose San Jose?
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
Friday, May 13, 2011
Kids do the darnest things
I've been working at a preschool (Early Care and Education Krieger Center) ever since I started college. Of course, this must have an impact on me somehow. Turns out, this experience has been one of my most memorable thus far. I've learned so much from these kids, who are only 2-5 years of age.
This 4-year-old, Liam, read me a Dr. Seuss book. Where he learned to read? I haven't got a clue. When did I learn how to read? I didn't learn how to speak English until I was 5, let alone read.
I was playing dinosaurs with Chloe, another 4-year-old, and I said, "Hey Chloe, here's a T-Rex for you to play with." She answered, "Silly John, that's a brachiocephalosaurus!" I was speechless. I got schooled by a preschooler.
It was week 7. I had just bombed a physics midterm. I was missing out on Sungod Festival, where all my friends were. I had an interview the next day, and an 11-hour training day for a volunteer program the day after. I was a mess. I was moping around the yard, when Nico, a 3-year-old, asks me, "John, why do you look so sad? We can be sad together cause I miss my mommy too." Cheered me up in a heartbeat. We, as teachers, aim to teach the children, but we never take a step back to learn from them. We may know more than they do, but they know things that we've forgotten.
Then, there're the few who are simply, just kids being kids.
Mateo is lactose-intolerant, and he knows it too. I had no clue, so I gave him milk during lunch, in which he downed 3 cups in a minute. Half an hour later, he pooped his pants. The amount of stool he had (all watery and extremely smelly) could have filled up half a gallon. No lie. When I was changing his diaper, I was gagging and coughing, and there he was, just saying, "Poo-poooooo. Poo-poooooo," over and over again.
Grant is an interesting kid. Every time I tell him to do something, he gives me a dirty look, and mutters God knows what under his breath while walking away. Literally sounds like he's casting a spell on me or something like that.
After two years of working at the Krieger Center, I realized that it's time to move on. Looking back, I'll never forget these kids. I can't stress enough how much I've learned from them. They've taught me to attack the world with no fear. They see a cockroach for the first time. Such a nasty creature. They devise ways among themselves to capture it and put it in their insect farm.
After living in this world for 19 years, I've learned to keep a small circle and not to ask for help, even when I need it. These kids are not afraid to ask for help when they need it. I've learned that I'll stunt my growth as a person if I remain bigoted. I needn't be scared when asking others for help.
Kids will fall, and they will cry. Maybe pout a bit, but they will ALWAYS get back up. I, on the other hand, will fall, get discouraged, and go straight to plan B. Thank you, children of Krieger Center. Because of you, I will not let any scrape or cut, no matter how big, stop me from getting back up.
Love,
John
Penguin Student Teacher
This 4-year-old, Liam, read me a Dr. Seuss book. Where he learned to read? I haven't got a clue. When did I learn how to read? I didn't learn how to speak English until I was 5, let alone read.
I was playing dinosaurs with Chloe, another 4-year-old, and I said, "Hey Chloe, here's a T-Rex for you to play with." She answered, "Silly John, that's a brachiocephalosaurus!" I was speechless. I got schooled by a preschooler.
It was week 7. I had just bombed a physics midterm. I was missing out on Sungod Festival, where all my friends were. I had an interview the next day, and an 11-hour training day for a volunteer program the day after. I was a mess. I was moping around the yard, when Nico, a 3-year-old, asks me, "John, why do you look so sad? We can be sad together cause I miss my mommy too." Cheered me up in a heartbeat. We, as teachers, aim to teach the children, but we never take a step back to learn from them. We may know more than they do, but they know things that we've forgotten.
Then, there're the few who are simply, just kids being kids.
Mateo is lactose-intolerant, and he knows it too. I had no clue, so I gave him milk during lunch, in which he downed 3 cups in a minute. Half an hour later, he pooped his pants. The amount of stool he had (all watery and extremely smelly) could have filled up half a gallon. No lie. When I was changing his diaper, I was gagging and coughing, and there he was, just saying, "Poo-poooooo. Poo-poooooo," over and over again.
Grant is an interesting kid. Every time I tell him to do something, he gives me a dirty look, and mutters God knows what under his breath while walking away. Literally sounds like he's casting a spell on me or something like that.
After two years of working at the Krieger Center, I realized that it's time to move on. Looking back, I'll never forget these kids. I can't stress enough how much I've learned from them. They've taught me to attack the world with no fear. They see a cockroach for the first time. Such a nasty creature. They devise ways among themselves to capture it and put it in their insect farm.
After living in this world for 19 years, I've learned to keep a small circle and not to ask for help, even when I need it. These kids are not afraid to ask for help when they need it. I've learned that I'll stunt my growth as a person if I remain bigoted. I needn't be scared when asking others for help.
Kids will fall, and they will cry. Maybe pout a bit, but they will ALWAYS get back up. I, on the other hand, will fall, get discouraged, and go straight to plan B. Thank you, children of Krieger Center. Because of you, I will not let any scrape or cut, no matter how big, stop me from getting back up.
Love,
John
Penguin Student Teacher
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)