Maybe I Worry Too Much

I love making connections with my students, which is actually decently easy, at least when it comes to shared interests. It's a bit scary how many interests I share with the average middle school student. Marvel? Check. KPOP? Check. YA novels? Double check. I manage to keep a pretty good awareness of what the Youth is into these days, but there are always a few kids with whom I'm able to have what feels like a real friendship. I think I caught a new one.

He's one of my first years but he's one of those 14 year olds who is already starting to act like the adult he'll become (only 19 but my mind is older). He's considerate and helpful. At the same time, though, he is as 14 as a human can be. His pop culture obsessions are all-consuming, his dreams are sky-high, and he's constantly trying to shock me with the sentences he comes up with in class.

Which brings me to another reason why I love this kid. He loves Captain America. No I mean. A lot. As in, has on multiple occasions informed me that he wants to marry the guy. I can't blame him, let's be real. I first discovered this when we played MASH and he was thrilled to get the future of living on a yacht in Hawaii with his husband Steve Rogers and their golden retriever. I then informed him to watch out or I'd kill him and steal his life. Because seriously. A yacht? Hawaii? Chris Evans AND a dog? And thus, a friendship was born.

I started keeping an eye on him, thinking the Captain America thing was probably just a joke or a fluke. But bits and bobs kept adding up. On a dreams and goals project, some of his dreams for the future included "have a GF" and "have a BF". Interesting, I thought. Verrrrrrrry interesting. When he jokingly referred to Civil War as a romance movie, I agreed and added that to my list of clues.

A couple weeks later, I showed him my Captain America and Iron Man socks (yes I bought a pair of each and mismatched them so they are couple socks fight me) and he informed me, in no uncertain terms, that while he "ships Stony" he ships "himself with Cap more". Sorry Bucky, guess he's not a fan.

So there's that. Gotta love the confidence.

Long story longer, do I have a queer kid in my class?? He's lived abroad for quite a few years, and his English is impeccable. From our conversations, he seems very open-minded and worldly. He was trying to get me to use the word "steamy" in a madlib, and since then I had to explain to the rest of the class what steamy meant...I will never forgive him.

Part of me wants to ask him outright, but I don't want to scare him off. Another part of me worries about him. Korea is not the most...accepting of countries? It's getting better but it's still not exactly a haven for anyone that's "different" in any way. I always try to be inclusive in my lessons, and obviously I never freak out when they accuse each other of being gay, but I'm not sure what else I should be doing to connect with this kid. I just want him to be safe and happy, but I also don't want to assume anything.

Being a teacher is hard, guys. At least they give me candy sometimes.

I Can't Think Straight

Oh, the irony.

The year goes round and round and here we are again, just past National Coming Out Day. As a friend recently said on twitter, "It's National Coming Out Day, the day I angst about my label every year and shuffle off into the depths to try and find something that works."

Too real, man. Too real. I can recall, but I've probably had stress dreams about people asking me to define my sexuality. Somehow, the more labels I have to choose from, the harder it is to find one that applies. I've defaulted to an awkward "Well, I'm not straight...?" but that seems like such a lame copout. What's a girl to do?

In my life, I've mostly dated men, but my first kiss was with a girl. I was a tomboy in high school, but now I prefer dresses and winged eyeliner. At a glance, I appear as straight as a Roman road, but my heart could never travel that same path. 

There are so many politics in the world of orientation. Do I count as bi if I've only ever had sex with men, despite making out with girls? Why do straight people get to count even before they've had sex? Is all of this just in my head? Am I inventing problems that don't exist? Probably.

I was lucky enough to end up with an incredibly non-straight group of friends in high school and university, to the point that for a while, I actually thought I might be straight, just because I wasn't nearly as gay as the average person sitting next to me. I guess it's a bit like thinking you're a terrible dancer because all your friends are ballerinas, only to go to a wedding in Oklahoma and watch someone else's dad try to dance to Frank Sinatra. Ah, you think. So that's the other end of things.

It's weird living in Korea, as well. This country is so backwards, socially. Someone once told me it's like 2050 technologically and 1950 socially. Maybe it's better in the big city, but out here in the country? I can't imagine what it must be like for the young people trying to define themselves. I've had to field quite a few questions from my students, about everything from how many lesbians there are in the US (many??) to whether I know (and I quote) "any transgenders"? Let me tell you, trying to explain, in simple English, very briefly, why someone would want to transition is not something I would wish upon anyone. At the same time, that's one thing I love about being a teacher.

So yeah. Here are my scattered and disorganized musings on my sexuality in light of National Coming Out Day. While it's a lovely thought to imagine a world where there are no assumptions made and anyone could be anything without having to explain themselves, it's not a world I see coming soon. Besides, labels can be fun, and even positive, so long as you get to choose the ones that feel right. I just wish I knew which ones those were, for me, as a confused non-straight weirdo.

How Long Does It Take?

Phelan M. Ebenhack—AP

I'm so tired. I'm so sad. The same terrible things keep happening to the same people, to different people, to MY people. I want to be positive, I try to stay hopeful, but for every wonderful story I feel like I read 5 stories of violence and hatred and just pure ignorance. When are things going to reach the tipping point? Or are we just going to destroy ourselves out of existence?

Sometimes I feel bad, because I'm just not capable of crusading and fighting on the front lines like so many of my friends are. I can't read the news every day. I can barely check Facebook. I want to be stronger, to be more resilient, but it's hard enough to keep my inner sadness and anxiety at bay without adding in politics, mass shootings, racism, and all the things I'm supposed to be yelling about. Is this part of getting older? Does it all accrete like the mercury that's apparently filling the fish we eat, does each exposure increase the reaction like my shellfish allergy until a single bite leaves me sick for a day?

I want to be angry but I'm tired. So tired. I've been angry about this for so long. I've written the words. I've shared experiences, educated the uninformed, and made mindful choices. I've learned from my mistakes and helped others to learn from theirs. But what's the point? Is it getting any better? I've believed in movements and hashtags and leaders, but everything disappoints. Every fave will eventually be problematic. Eventually I just don't want to hear it. There's a saying about ignorance for a reason.

Sometimes, I feel like a coward for running away to Korea. If you care so much about these issues in the US, why don't you go home and fight for them? My mom even straight up asked me why I'm spending my time teaching Korean kids when the kids back home need teachers too. HYDRA really is the perfect villain for a modern fantasy; for every injustice or world problem we begin to right, a thousand more appear to take the place. This will always be the case, and I'm sick of being criticized for not talking about the "important" issues, for not fighting the "right" fights.

I'm sick of all these false equivalency arguments. If you've ever looked at the internet or spoken to a human, I'm sure you've encountered them. For your reading pleasure, I will recreate one here:

Person A: Wow, I really hate how women in the US are slut-shamed for wearing short skirts.
Person B: Well at least you don't live in a totalitarian regime where you're forced to dress like a prisoner!
Person A: Um...yes?

Even better are the accusations of calling attention to causes that aren't "important enough," whatever that means.

Person A: Check out this article about teenage girls getting sent home from school for stupid dress code violations!
Person B: I can't believe we're so upset about this when there are people dying in [insert country] and no one is talking about it!!?!

People are dying EVERYWHERE. Bad things are happening EVERYWHERE. None of us is capable of caring about every single cause at the same level, and shaming people for trying to bring attention to what is important to them is just mean. If someone tells you they are bleeding, do you tell them that someone else is bleeding more, or do you give them a bandage?

I'm writing all this in the wake of the horrible tragedy in Orlando at the Pulse nightclub, but these feelings are nothing new. This is just the most recent tragedy. I'm not here to talk about gun rights or the US's lack of response to mass shootings. Other people have done that better than I ever could. I'm just here because I'm tired and sad I want to feel like someone is listening.

There are two main sentence structures I'm teaching my students this week, and seeing them on the board was rather poignant today. Or heartbreaking. The first is "What's up? You look upset." Yes, I am upset. I'm upset that the media is refusing to accept that the shooting in Orlando was fueled by homophobia. I'm upset that even after so many mass shootings we haven't done anything. I'm upset about the underlying political corruption that allowed that to happen. I'm upset and I'm angry and scared.

The other sentence, which struck me even harder, was "How long does it take?" How long does it take, America, before you realize that you have a problem? How long does it take for things to change? How long before we stop allowing children and parents and friends be killed for the crime of living?

How long?