thank you letter to mf #1

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November 8, 2007

thank you letter to mf #1

dear mf,

i can't believe it's been over 20 years since i was a wildcat. last month i went to the 20 year reunion to see who'd be there. of course it was mostly those who were considered to be the "movers and shakers" of the class. it's funny, all these years of my involvement in the asian american community, and yet at an event where it was maybe 70% african americans, i still felt "at home." a lot of it had to do with what i learned from you in your class.

it's no accident that i was the only asian male student in your class of 30. after all, you scared the crap outta all of us students on the first day with your standards and expectations from us. so in a panic of those wishing to protect their gpa's, 8 out of the 11 asian students transferred out of your class immediately. i can still remember when i confessed to you a semester later that i too attempted to transfer out of your class on day 2; you laughed so hard. being in your class taught me a valuable lesson about how misleading our gpa's were.

i'm not sure if you purposely did so or not, but putting me in a group project with the starting linebackers of the varsity team intimidated the hell outta me. but as you said, they may be on the football team outside of class, but in your class, we WERE the team that needed to work. so as a result of the project, two people in school who would've normally not interact with each other because of race (black and asian) and social status(star athlete-non athlete), became school friends. i'm not sure if you intended to do so or not, but in regards to race relations, i was able to get a lot out of your class.

you taught all of us in class that unless we develop our critical thinking skills, we would most likely get caught up in a destructive mob mentality and therefore, would give up our individual identity for a group identity. it wasn't so much the books you assigned us that reinforced what you taught. it was your anecdotes. all your stories from you early days of teaching at mcclymonds high, how it was primarily african american, and as a result, lacked college prep courses. how not only you fought and won to provide such classes, but how you developed your standards that scared us on our first day because like you said, "the world won't lower their standards for you, you need to RISE to them." most importantly, you NEVER bought that excuse from the other students, "because they're black" as a reason for them not meeting your standards. i guess because they eventually met your standards. in my case, i learned a similar lesson as my african american classmates, or perhaps it was the same lesson as theirs: "DON'T BUY DA LIE" during that time, most of us at oakland high were taught that asians are "natural" at math and science, and african americans weren't naturally adept in academics, but athletics. funny that such an assessment now would be frowned upon, but back then, we were taught that. and you said that it was a lie. well, it turned out to be a lie after all, but sadly, a lot of our peers bought that lie. had i not taken your class, i too would've bought into the lie.

i have a secret to confess to you: i was suicidal during those days. why? because before you taught me "the lie," i bought into it. i was struggling with both trigonometry and physics so much, that everyone: my peers, counselor, parents, other family members were just constantly getting on my case. i felt like such a failure and basically like some sort of an asian anomaly. there's nothing worse than hearing on a daily basis from your own mother, "what's the matter with you? why aren't you like___? that's why your father is drinking more than usual. he's frustrated with you not living up to your academic potential" and i remembered that self hatred afterwards. of course getting a "C" from your class didnt' help. if THAT class was my favorite class (it was) why wasn't i getting an "A?" that was the argument that i was unable to win. of course my mother wasn't attacking you. she respected you a lot because you once saved my sister from "da lie." during the developing days of bilingual education, because of our surname CHIN, my sister was removed from your english class and tracked into a bilingual english class. you contacted my mother after you futilely attempted to get my sister out of that class and explained to her that the only reason why my sister was place there was solely because of her last name, and the school would do nothing without my mother's intervention.

do you remember when you kept me from going to lunch? i felt so busted when you said to my on my way out of class, "chin, c'mere." it was instinctual to feel as if i done something wrong especially during those days. the last thing i expected to hear from you was, "you're a writer, but you're lazy. quit being lazy." i remembered my response afterwards: "i'm flunking my trig class." and then you laughed. you asked me if i was told that i'm "supposed to" excel in math and science, and i nodded. you then told me "dey r LYING to you! you're a writer, actually you're a storyteller." when i left class afterwards, i felt free.

three years ago, i tried looking you up. i wanted to let you know that i followed your advice to become a writer, a storyteller. i written a play that was going to be showcased at one of the major san francisco theaters. i was really excited at the possibility of you being able to see the fruit of your labor. you could imagine the heartbreak i experienced upon learning of your passing while trying to locate you. i don't think i ever taken the time to thank you for what you taught me. though you may be watching me "from above" as i type this now, i would give anything to see your facial expression as you're reading this. so i leave you with a quick synopsis about what my play was about that i wanted to invite you to. it was about a student who didn't buy into "da lie."