Fool me once...

Recently my mental aguish has gradually been on the rise. My distress sprung from the inflation of four significant personal issues/decisions I was pressed to confront. Every Sunday the prayer team at my church offers prayer for any desperate soul in need. Praying is really personal for me. Some of my most intimate exchanges with friends have been while we prayed together. So I was bit trepidatious to approach the intimidating prayer team stranger but I had reached my max in regards to my strain. I had never gone to the prayer team before but I know there is power in prayer. I had been praying for discernment, and had asked multiple people to pray as well, but I still had no ‘answer’ from God. (Or at least an answer I could comprehend).

One of the weights on my shoulders was a relationship one of my students. A student that I personally cared deeply for had lied to and betrayed me multiple times. He was #3 on my list of loads I needed lifted. I lingered after the service, unsure if I wanted to approach the pray-ers. After seeing the gentle face of the prayer-lady I decided to stay. I introduced myself and she claimed to be named ‘Angel’. I am not entirely confident that was her real name. I think she needs the alias to protect herself from prayer recipients with an inclination of stalking… Which I qualify.

The prayer experience was strange for me. For those of you who don’t know me, I am not a hugger. And Angel intimately prayed for me (if you know what I mean...). I told her my ‘list of four’ and before we started to pray she asked if she could put her hand on my back. That's safe enough, I could do that. Little did I know she would go all Song of Solomon on me. As the prayer progressed, our hands went from holding to fastened to a vice-grip. And she used the ploy of putting her hand on my back as an excuse to pull her entire body towards mine as if she was magnetizing a potential husband. I am saying all of this in jest (and slightly in fear/trauma). In truth I was encouraged by the sincerity and passion of her prayer. But at times she was so inflamed with the Spirit that my hand brushed her ‘nursers’ (as my eloquent father says). I don’t know how she could have NOT noticed. Maybe I am too easily distracted? At the end of the prayer I knew I was in for a hug. I was expecting a cordial, brief side-hug. That is as intimate as most co-ed Christians allow themselves. Not Angel. As I tried to make my escape she full-body, chest-to-chest embraced me for a strong 7-34 minutes. I didn’t know how to respond. The only people I just want to hold for prolonged periods of time with no reason is Miss Berkley and her brother.    

After the prayer I genuinely felt like I forgave my lying student. The resentment and pain that I harbored dissolved away.
Then Monday that same student lied to me again...

I still feel forgiveness for him and brokenness but as my G-Dubya says, 

"Fool me once, shame on... shame on you.
Fool me, you can't get fooled again."

Search History

This semester I get to teach a writing and reading class to two middle school boys. (There are really three guys in the class but the third student is a hybrid of Disney dwarves Sleepy and Dopey. He either doesn’t show up to class or is sleeping). We’ve been reading To Kill a Mockingbird. [Frustratingly, I chose that book because the narcoleptic student has to read it for his English class so I thought it would be beneficial that he get extra exposure to it. Yet he has no clue what is going on…] I remember struggling through the book myself as a 7^th grader in Mrs. Pyka’s class. The book is much funnier and significant for me this second time around. I also admire Atticus much more now then when I was a 13-year-old chillin. It is difficult explaining the cultural context of the story at times. We usually have our computers up if they need to translate a word or ‘image search’ something. Last week I was with my two faithful middle schoolers (the snoozing senior was MIA) and we were at the start of the trial. Scout describes the scene outside the courthouse comparing the congregation of white audience members versus black. Before they enter the courthouse Scout observes the whites massed together picnicking and remarks

“Greasy-faced children popped-the-whip through the crowd, and babies lunched at their mother’s breast.”

It was about break time for me and I was feeling a bit silly so I asked the younger of of the two guys what ‘breast’ meant and he didn’t know. As a hint I asked him again and gently pinched his nipple through his shirt a couple times. He didn’t catch the hint, just giggled. I turned to the other boy and he appeared slightly uncertain he leaned forward to do a Google search. But I embarrassingly rushed to cover his keyboard. Lord knows what he would have turned up.  

Not relevant to my story but one of my favorite quotes from the whole book.

Slapping Five

-->

“I hang out in sports bars a lot. I’m not that into sports. I’m not really
a drinker either. But I love slapping five.”

That is a Demetri Martin joke and polar opposite to how I feel. Sports, sports bars, and slapping five are not ‘my bag…baby.’ However, I am not a drinker so we got that going for us. I just wanted to write about something not so heavy and depressing and I thought my unnatural animosity towards athletic PDA would be a humorous topic.

If you know me, or have seen my frail figure, you will know sports have never been a skill I’ve excelled at. I am too uncoordinated and robotic. I can’t even clap and sing at the same time. I remember when I was in high school I was on the basketball team. I would like to say, ‘I played basketball’ but that would require getting off the bench. My main job was to use my four fouls if the Battlin Billies needed to stall the clock. I was fine with that. The whole dribbling and ball-in-the-basket was difficult for me. Hitting people was a skilled I honed through childhood experiments with my sister…

I remember how foolish and uncomfortable I felt when our team would ‘huddle up’ before we would run onto the court. Luckily my friend Aner was just as embarrassed so we would stand to the side while the rest of the team got riled up. Then there was the unnatural desire that some teammates have to give and receive high fives. I do not know if I have ever instinctively felt the need to high five someone. Sometimes my students instigate the high five and I feel like an awkward hypocrite when I concede to that lone hand in the air.  

But the ‘high five’ is one of many examples of my impaired social skills. This runs through my mind every time I have to make a first impression:

 

I Want to Remove His Veil

And even if our gospel is veiled, it is veiled to those who are perishing. (vs. 3)

My cousin encouraged me to meditate on 2 Corinthians 4 after reading my blog post ‘A Book.’ I have always admired this cousin and she and her husband are undeniable spiritual mentors and examples for my sister and I. My cousin was trying to comfort me in my emotional mêlée since my allowance for my initially intimate relationship with Byeontae to dissolve into disgust. It sincerely was unintentional. He claims to have really put an end to dating his underage girlfriend (an endeavor he reluctantly braved after receiving pressure from the school [teachers-principal-founder], his parents, and her parents… not his conscious. -A reputable step he was forced to take so his sincerity is questionable). If they truly are no longer together, I praise God. But when I see him, I do not see a guy I used to like or even a student. I see deviant predator. I don't like to see him around any of the Middle Schoolers. I do not know the depths of his perversion and he makes me nervous. And I exhaustively pray that I am wrong and that the Lord allow me to see Byeontae with the same loving and wanting eyes that he views him with.

Regretfully, I realize I ‘cut my losses’ in respects to Byeontae. It was the easiest and safest solution. I thought that I could begrudgingly tolerate him the five hours a week we have to share a room. I hate to throw a wrench into any false notion that teachers like all (or even most) of their students. I’ve taught students I was repulsed by, fearful of, driven insane by… but it is my job not to show my (non-encouraging) feelings. And honestly I am not that good at it. My friends used to make fun of me because they claim to be able to discern my true feelings by the expression on my face. I am self-conscious that Byeontae is receptive of my negative feelings towards him. And that is not fair.

This week we made an appointment to study for a challenging test worth 25% of his grade. Byeontae is smart but the test is specifically onerous. (And it is always a good idea to study with someone who has the answers…) He stood me up for our tutoring appointment. Admittedly I was relieved because I was unsure how spending such intimate time together would turn out given my current perception of him.

My cousin invalidated my feelings revealing how they were motivated by my sin. I was applying my expectations and those were out of his spiritual jurisdiction. She said that his sin was not a personal attack on me but a natural expression of his need for our Savior. She wrote:

“He doesn't have the power of the Holy Spirit living inside of him to guide him into all truth… what I DO know is that you have to pray like never before that OUR GOD will remove the veil from his eyes and transfer him from the darkness into the kingdom of His glorious light.  That is his only hope and ours.”

-------------

The god of this age has blinded the minds of unbelievers, so that they cannot see the light of the gospel that displays the glory of Christ, who is the image of God. (vs. 4)

I am in no position to judge anyone. And though all will be held accountable to God’s judgment, Byeontae is not a believer and desperately needs the Holy Spirit to guide his life today. I’ve been praying that the Lord grant me forgiveness and if not, that he mend our impaired relationship. The motivation is no longer personal or social, rather professionally and spiritual. I mustered all the restraint I could and Friday after school I offered to meet with him at some time in the weekend to study with him if he wanted. He declined. His rejection might have been personally motivated or he might actually be busy. Either way, I feel like I did my best.
An immature and arrogant part of my sinful heart wants him to do poorly on his test to reiterate how much he needs me but that is trash. The more reflective part of me (though often weaker) wants to shine the light of the Gospel to this guy. And God has given me that light. I hope to illuminate Chris’s love and freedom to Byeontae and my other kids.   

For God, who said, “Let light shine out of darkness,” made his light shine in our hearts to give us the light of the knowledge of God’s glory displayed in the face of Christ. (vs. 6)

Self-preservation

When I was at Hardin, my Social Studies family always joked that we should document all the inconceivable things that happened to us so we could turn it into a television show. I am not sure if the show would end up being a comedy or tragedy. For the most part, if the life of a teacher were turned into a television series it would be a dramatic-comedy. When I was in high school, I remember watching a show by David E. Kelly called ‘Boston Public’. Essentially it was a four season series that, at-times, accurately (yet dramatically) presents real issues teachers experience and struggle through.

My favorite character was the crotchety, offensive Jew: Harvey Lipchitz. Most David E. Kelly shows had a fundamental sex appeal and Harvey provided much needed eye-candy. I recently rewatched the series and it was an endearing, personal experience. I’ve been teaching for just five years yet I can directly and intimately relate to some of the stories presented in the show.
In one episode one of the newbie teachers wasn’t comfortable with wearing a tie and wanted to dress more casually. I never struggled with this but Harvey, the seasoned statesman, aggressively chastises him informing him that if he wants to be respected he needs to dress professionally. It is true. My slacks and tie are a form of armor that I wear to maintain a balance of power with my students. When I am wearing casual clothes, I feel more vulnerable and exposed.

I finished the final season a couple of weeks ago. One storyline harmoniously coincided with a personal experience I’ve being drudging through. As I’ve mention in previous postings, I’ve struggle in my relationship with and perception of one of my students (‘Byeontae’). In Boston Public, the Physics teacher (Miss Torres) identified with and becames emotionally entangled with one of her sophomore students. In the begging Miss Torres was drawn into the life of her student out of concern of the company the student was keeping and the choices she was making. My relationship with Byeontae was more platonic and (I believed) based on mutual respect and interest. As Boston Public’s fictional relationship progressed, Miss Torres realized how powerless she devotedly was; and despite her genuine concern for the interest of the student, it was no longer healthy to be as emotionally involved as she had become. I too hit that level of despair. In their final dialogue, Miss Torres confesses that she was wrong to have gotten as involved as she had (as I similarly feel now). She tried to justify her involvement but concluded the conversation confessing, 

“[The] sermons over. I’m going to let go of you now. And I wish I could say I was doing it for you but I’m not. I’m doing it because I have to. Self-preservation.”

Her tearful pardon was poignant. I too feel like I had to ‘let go’ of any relationship with Byeontae. I thought that I was helping a friend but it was tearing me up.

Middle of East Texas

-->

I realize my mentality has been on the extreme end of the emotional spectrum lately. And thus these blog entries have been a bit heavy. So I want to share a story that made me ‘lol’.
If you’ve had the pleasure of meeting my father this will be a brazilion times funnier. If you haven’t imagine a 2010 Rooster Cogburn when you envision my father. [Truly, when I saw Jeff Bridges in True Grit I felt like he had followed my father around to mirror his mannerism and speech patterns.] 

For the past couple of months my sister has been dating a guy I will call Tamra. I’ve met Tamra a couple of times and I like him. However, I’ve informed my sister if he has any interested of pursuing a deeper relationship with her that it is customary (from my perspective) that Tamra ask for my blessing. I am not exceedingly concerned for the emotional well being of my sister. I need to look after my Miss and her brother. I cannot entrust the care of my favorite niece and her brother to anyone. Miss and Baby have unique emotional needs. I need to be conscious whom my sister exposes them to. –He has yet to ask for my permission to pursue any relationship with my sister so I am under the assumption they are simple acquaintances. 

Tamra is not white, black, or Asian thus in my dad’s mind, he is Mexican. When I was home this past February my dad asked me if I knew anything about Jessi’s “new Mexican friend.” Since Tamra is Egyptian and not Mexican, I justified withholding the truth by saying, I don’t know of any of Jessi’s Mexican friends.
[I like Tamra (besides the fact he hasn’t sought my approval to pursue my sister (if that is what he is doing?)) and I don’t care if he is red, yellow, black, or white.  Actually I would prefer Korean but my influence only goes so far with my stubborn sister… Honestly, I was more disappointed that Tamra is a Yankee than his ethnic background.]

My aunt told me that my dad was asking her and her husband about Jessi’s “new Mexican friend” and my uncle corrected him. My uncle told him that he wasn’t Mexican but Middle Eastern. Abashed, my slow-speaking, good-ole-boy father responds with, “I hope you mean the Middle of East Texas!”
Unintentionally, my father can be really funny. 

-Also, when I was in university I had to do a genealogy report and so I asked my dad where we were from and he proudly said, "The G-town!" (Garrison, Texas -point A on the map). I was expecting more a more ancestral answer.  I still don't know which European country we're descended from. For some reason my dad seemed uncomfortable answering these questions. As if he were trying to protect our proud family line. The furthest back my dad would admit to was, "I think some of us are from Chireno." (which my dad pronounces, 'sha-reen-ner.' -point B on the map. An exhausting 26 miles away.)
We are a proud people!

A Book

[I suggest you read 'Closing a Chapter or Book?' before reading this post]

The Lord is provisional. As I mentioned in other blog postings, I’ve been terribly troubled the past couple of weeks. Amid multiple factors (stress at work, isolation, concern for/of perverted students…) I found myself in prayer often. And I can see how the Lord has delivered me from the state I was in six weeks ago.

The majority of my emotional bipolar responses were because of one student: Byeontae. In the past, I was torn because I felt we were ‘friends’. Then as weeks went on I struggled because the Byeontae I knew and the true Byeontae were no longer the same person. I was torn. I wanted to maintain a close relationship with him but it was becoming impossible.
 
This past weekend I wrote a letter. It was to him but I have no intention of giving it to him. I just wrote it because I was stressed and anxious and felt I needed to release my fears. I’m sharing a modified version of the letter as praise to God. I truly see the past six weeks as an act of deliverance. God has faithfully delivered me from a dangerous and unhealthy relationship. (That I know was inappropriate from the beginning).

Byeontae, 

            I’m writing this knowing that I will not give it to you. I just want a way to express myself and I no longer feel it is appropriate to talk personally with you anymore. That truth is sad for me but I am glad to have learned it. I know it was unintentional but you have caused me a lot of pain and anguish these past couple of weeks. I feel like I am a wiser person for it though and that is rewarding. The biggest professional lesson I have learned is that I CANNOT get too close to my students. I am glad the Lord has shown me my mistake but I am now confused how I can approach relationships with my students in the future. It is my purpose in life (right now) to love and serve my students. To give my ‘life’ to them and love them like Jesus loves them. I do not do that well but that is my purpose. I made the mistake of becoming attached to you. I know in the future I need to be more guarded with my kids. That is good. I just hope it doesn’t make them feel as if I am disinterested in their lives. Finding a balance will be difficult. But I need to keep my distance. I now see that my feelings and actions towards you were not beneficial for either of us. 

            You, your parents, the child, and her parents are having a meeting today at school. I am curious what will happen. I wish I were a fly on the wall (with a Korean fly next to me to translate for me). I don’t want to ask you what happened because I think your perspective is a bit skewed. And I’m sure the school will not tell us what happened so I am left to wonder. I still really want to know. Miss Craft told me I should ‘cut my losses’ and disconnect completely from you. But I still don’t want to, even after all the deception. If you and the child are still together after today I will have to completely detach myself from all you are. 

            My job is such a huge part of my life. I believe how I do my job and the type of job I have reflects the type of person I am. If I were to ‘cut you out’ it would mean that I am not strong and a quitter. It is hard to quit on someone who, I see, needs a lot of help. I thought I was helping you by being honest and clear with you but, reflectively, I see I was just ‘pissing into the wind’ (as my dad says). I know it is self-righteous to have hoped that my advice would have made an effect on you. I feel so foolish. But that is okay. I now see that my perspective of you, and us, was off.  

I am ambivalent because part of me truly admires that you did what you wanted no matter what EVERYBODY (with a moral compass) told you. I only wish you would have stood apart on a different issue. Like everybody was telling you to study medicine but you wanted to follow your heart and study rhythmic dance. I wish you hadn’t drawn your line in the sand on an issue other than dating children. 

Oh… it still just makes me sick. Personally I am conservative but my Ron Paul has introduced the Libertarian perspective. I sincerely believe that everybody has the God-given freedom to do whatever they want as long as it doesn’t bring harm to others. And you do not see this but what you are doing is bring harm to your underage girlfriend. This is where I wish I had been… more significant to you. I wish you would have believed me even if you didn't understand what I was telling you. I try to sympathize with your situation and I think that if I had been in your position, 18 year old me wouldn’t have listened to anyone else either. [Again, It is impossible to put myself in your specific situation because I would have NEVER thought of dating a 7^th grader.] Truthfully, I know I wouldn’t have believed or trusted most adults. I did not have someone who loved me enough, or that I trusted enough, to advise me the way I tried to counsel you. But I wish I had...

            My biggest fear is that y’all’s parents, for some perverse reason, agree to let y’all date. If that happens, my entire feelings towards Koreans will change. I already am astounded that you haven’t been teased or ostracized by the other students. The fact that they are not disgusted appalls me. If I were your child-girlfriend’s father, I would immediately come to this school, beat you up, then withdraw my little girl from this school and dangerous situation. And if I were your father, I would immediately come to school and beat the hell out of you. I wish I had met your parents before all of this. Do you fear or realize that your actions directly reflect on them? When I was in High School, I wanted to do a lot of bad things but a pertinent motivation for me to stay straight was that I didn’t want to hurt or embarrass my parents. I had a good reputation with my teachers because both of my parents were their co-workers. I had to be respectable or they would think less of my mom and dad. I haven’t met many students’ parents but honestly, it is hard to think highly of some of them because of the character of their children… I remember when I was moving into my new classroom at my first teaching job. One of the parents came up to me, gave me her information, and encouraged me to call her if I ever needed anything. She actually said, “If Carson ever gives you any problems, beat his ass.” –Honestly, I was terrified but Carson ended up being one of my favorite kids I’ve ever taught. He wasn’t a great student but he was a good guy. It is a parent’s job to instruct their kids on how to behave and the proper things to value. And your behavior (in dating a child, perpetually bold-face lying, intentionally being deceitful, etc…) reflects poorly.

            I now realize that even if you were to break up with your under-aged girlfriend, end this cruel game of playing with her, stop manipulating her, and even ask for forgiveness… I don’t think I can ever respect you. At first I thought it was because I still felt personally insulted by your deception. I can’t see you as anything other than a man who justifies dating a child even after multiple people advised you against it.
 
            I remember my mom joking with me when I was a senior in High School that she found one of her Middle School students to arrange a marriage with me. My mom’s intent was just to say that she really liked this little 8^th grader but I remember being extremely embarrassed. I had known the girl but always thought of her as a "little Middle Schooler.” I fear you are really sick. I no longer think you just made a careless mistake. I fear for the other students because of you. You are a wolf in sheep’s clothing. You put on a safe, inviting front but it is just a façade. The real you is disgusting and shocking…

            For the past couple of weeks I’ve had a prayer list where I pray for certain students and teachers each day. You are on my Wednesday list. Three weeks ago I was praying that:
1. The Lord reveals his love and Salvation to you. And that you have a personal, powerful relationship with Christ.
2. That I love you well and that we grow closer together.
3. That you find your purpose in life and confidently pursue that purpose.  
But the past two weeks I’ve just prayed that the Lord reveal his plan of Salvation to you, that you not be a child molester, and that I not hate you. (I don’t hate you. I just don’t understand you. And I do hate the threat you are to others.)

            Oh Byeontae. The Lord has revealed so much to me in the past couple of weeks through you. For that I am grateful. I just wish things had been different. I’ve been to the Han a couple of times

and each time I am reminded that I’ve lost a (potential) brother. But that is fine. And honestly, I don't know if that is true anymore. Things haven’t worked out as I would have planned but, they are what they are. 

“And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.”          -Romans 8:28

            I love God. I know he loves me. so I’ve just got to trust him and his purpose. He loves you too, more than I can explain. I am sincerely sorry I couldn’t show you better.

In .love.
Jp

I still do not know his relationship status with the child. He had told me multiple times they are not together and each time, that was a lie. So I wouldn’t believe what he tells me now anyway. I also doubt all the conversations we had. I’ve devalued the intimacy I felt we shared because it wasn’t real. What he said, what we talked about… must have all been lies. 

I see God’s deliverance in the revelation of the reality of my situation. No matter what I thought Byeontae was or could be… it doesn’t matter. He is a liar. And I can’t be friends or have any semblance of a healthy relationship with someone who is relentlessly dishonest with me. Also, he unabashedly breaks school rules. And the nail in the coffin is: he is a pervert.
Now that I see who he really is, I don't want anything to do with that kind of person (which is hard to admit). 

I remember when we were at the Han I told him I thought he was ‘strong’ because he appeared to be an individual and boldly stood alone. I now see that he ‘stands alone’ because he doesn’t seem to have any real friends. Sadly, I think he will be flying solo for a long time (unless he manipulates another child into a relationship with him). He cannot be a friend to anyone or be anyone’s friend if he is not honest. 

Closing this ‘book’ in my life was made easier because the ‘friend’ I thought I would find in him, is not the type of person he genuinely is.