At the sweet requests of my dear friend Vanessa Rogers, I have decided to add blabb (rambling thoughts, words of wisdom) to my blog!
I'm 26. I've been telling people the best gift I received this year on the date was having Barak Obama elected as our new president! I'm SOOO happy about this news! However, I don't know if it's the cynic in me, but I fear some stupid person will attempt to assassinate our first black president. I've been reminded that this would still be better than having McCain die and have Soccer Mom Palin as president. HOWEVER, in the unlikely case that she dies off as well, we'd get Nancy Pelosi which wouldn't be so bad!
Moving on, I digress. 6 months after returning home to Palo Alto, CA and I was still mooning over my lost life in South America, the friends and family (host family) I left behind, and my casual, carefree life as an English (I almost wrote Ingles) teacher. I began work for PAUSD at Nixon Elementary on Stanford's campus as a teacher's aide for two students needing extra resource help. The students' cases were like night and day: one student had tons of family support and encouragement despite his language and learning disabilities; the other's family seemed to perpetuate his behavioral disabilities in the classroom. Although I was excited to be in a teaching environment once again, I had downgraded from teaching my own classes in Chile (my own lesson plans, my own schedule, etc) to being the hovering shadow in a California classroom. I greatly admired both teachers at Nixon and their teaching styles, however, my adjustment into a different school system was difficult. All of a sudden, I forgot where students in the 3rd and 4th grade were developmentally and academically. To me, my Chilean students at that level were little regalitos, babes, whom I adored (and even better, they adored me back!) To my Californian students, I was a young, awkward teaching assistant with a tendency to bore and annoy the kids. At least, that was the impression I got from the students. Not to mention the difficult of getting excited in the morning when the day before I was told by my student "I hate you! I'm never going to be your friend! Get away from me!" (followed by attempts to kick and punch me or wild laps around the classroom that only Road Runner would have the chance catching)
I decided that elementary school education, at least in special education, was not where my career was headed and that a teaching certification program could wait. I supplemented my little income with work as a hostess at the now defunct L'Acquolina Restaurant in Los Altos. I started two weeks after they opened, hoping to revisit the wonderful experience I had as Hamersley's. Given I worked there for two years and had learned Open Table, I was ready to get busy at night! Yet "busy" never happened and when trying to drop by to say hi around August, the "for sale" signs adorning the front windows were an obvious sign of sad defeat. I wish the Urrozs the best of luck in their next endeavour. Cindy Urroz was one of the kindest managers and I was very lucky to work with her for a short while. (I was let go as they decided I wasn't needed at the front any longer)
So, beginning in June, knowing I was not going to return to Nixon as an aide the following school year, I decided to develop my administrative skills at temp work around the Bay Area. Although it felt like starting back at ground zero, I knew it would be a stepping stone towards something greater. Or, at the very least, a way to build work experience and network. However, when asked what I wanted to do after temping ("So I know that's what you're doing now. What would be your DREAM job?") I still had no clue. Nutrition was on hold at that moment. Actually, I had gone from staying the exact same weight from the start of my Chile adventure to the end of my Chile adventure (even after consuming 3 media lunas aka "butter croissants" a day in Argentina on bus trips) to eating round the clock to fill my now empty schedule. I was doing weight training with my mom's trainer, but not much other physical activity and I felt my body turn to mush. I wasn't happy, but I wasn't ready to make any life changes, either.
It was later I joined the Palo Alto running club. I've been a runner since middle school and completed my first half marathon in Boston before leaving for Chile, but only ran occasionally at home. God only knows why I didn't run more! If there's any place good to run, it would be in California! I was challenged to do my first 10 mile run in a two years lapse, and found it refreshingly easy to run on the trail at Wunderlich. If I can do 10, why not try 12? I carpooled with a new friend, Beth, to San Joaquin Miller Park in Oakland for a PCTR run.
It was on that run that I got too ambitious and flew down a downhill, resulting in a sprained ankle early in the race. Yet, there was no turning back for me (it's hard to find your way out of a trail once inside a park) and after catching my breath, decided to finish the race despite pain, and later, swelling. I actually made the brave attempt to sprint in to the finish. That week, my entire left foot swelled up like a balloon. Later in the week after the swelling hadn't subsided after RICE, my mom questioned the possibility of gangrene (which, of course, was not even an issue). In fact, pictures of my sister and I (to be posted soon) at the Gilroy Garlic festival show me with my gimpy leg.
At the risk of sounding cliche, the running club changed my living situation from "badly depressing" to "good" I met a network of great (normal) runners and running helped me jump start my decision to a healthier eating routine and habits in general. I began waking up early on Saturday mornings to drive to far off places like Tiburon, CA to catch a ferry to Angel Island and run there. Or, meet the Saratoga Striders to attempt the Skyline to Sea trail through beautiful Big Basin finishing with a clam chowder fest. I completed the San Jose Rock 'n Roll marathon with a decent 1:44:09, finishing 46th out of 915 women in my age division (given the winner for the women's division was in my age group, that's pretty good). Now, I'm on to my third half marathon in Big Sur this weekend! All of this is in preparation for the CA International Marathon in Sacramento this December!
So, back to my life at home in Palo Alto. I'll need to give you my two cents on growing up in the city built by the admirable yet priggy Leland Stanford (who wanted to deny Asians the right to live in Palo Alto during it's early years; ironic as now Asians make up a generous population at his university). I grew up in the South Palo Alto area by Piazza's. Being a college town, I can't say that South Palo Alto is ghetto, but it's certainly different than North Palo Alto (Professorville, downtown, etc). In fact, moving after 3rd grade to North Palo Alto, I was all of a sudden aware that my clothes weren't designer which didn't put me in favor of being liked at my new elementary school, Walter Hays.
Yet, perhaps this is just me. I'm not a super girly girl. I didn't grow up interested in fashion, make up, or guys until much later in life (college). I was perfectly happy being an independent soul, even if others thought it made me look like a loaner or floater. But Palo Alto thrives on perfection and despite Silicon Valley's nerd-factor influencing the area, San Francisco's high life gives Palo Altans the need to "be it all" It makes the world more well-rounded. You can't get into a Stanford on the mere fact your a total nerd; you have to be a nerd who also was president of your class, having interests in several areas, and can demonstrate your value and ethics to society through good works or at least, political action. (I haven't taken this from a Stanford application brochure; it's just the impression that I get growing up here). Obviously (obvio!), Stanford influences Palo Alto in more ways than financial support. Palo Alto is culturally more astute given Stanford's proximity and demand for success. My dad did his master's work in engineering at Stanford (I didn't bother applying)
However, my friend who is currently doing her PhD in Economics (Kamran, I love you!) reminded me of the greatness Palo Alto is, despite it's bubble-effect from the rest of the Bay Area: intellectual consciousness. Yes people like their Burberry, Tiffany's and Louis Vitton (sp?) here in Palo Alto. But, they also like their green cars (try to count the number of Prius' you pass on a daily basis), their organic foods, their US-grown clothing. Wealth in our area may give us the impression of being snotty, spoiled, and self-centered. However, it also gives us the burden of looking out for those less fortunate despite our privileges and self-containment. Where else can you live next door to Steve Young, Steve Jobs, or Martha Stewart? Where else do you find your children going to school with Michelle Pfifer's daughter or Hewlett's son, Ben (he graduated with my older sister, Jenny) My senior year in high school, Kalinda Burton's uncle, Lavar Burton was our bachelaureate speaker and my graduating class belted out the Reading Rainbow's opening song. In 2006, my younger sister Stephi graduated from Paly and had James Franco as the graduation speaker.
Speaking of Mr. Franco, he's coming out with a novel about this very topic: Palo Alto! I wonder what his take is on growing up here. Anyone know? Probably much different than my own experience. I'm guessing his family (like most of Palo Alto) is part of the wealthy middle class and he's had a more luxurious life than I...
... a little more background. My grandparents on both sides of the family were immigrants from Canton, China. Neither family was wealthy (even "upper middle class wealthy"), although my great-grandmother and grandmother on my dad's side worked in China as teachers (very uncommon for Chinese woman at that time) and they lived off of soup cans (my paternal grandmother isn't much of a cook). My mom is from a family of 8 children, so you can imagine money was tight ("half a chicken pot pie" for the girls, my mom told us) My parents made their way into the world through what I suppose I could call "the American Dream" They met while my dad was at MIT and my mom was at Emmanuel College (back when only women were admitted). My dad moved through engineering and medical school, paid off all his student loans, and became VP of R&D in cardiovascular surgery for his biotech company, now currently part of Maquet, a Swedish company. He made it! and, not only did he make it, but he LOVES what he does. more than raising a family. more than his sports cars. He loves creating devices that will some day be used in closed-heart surgeries, devices that will minimize internal bleeding as a result of puncturing the aorta during surgery, devices that minimize scarring during triple-bypass heart surgery so that patients don't have to walk around with a long scar going from the groin to the ankle (the saphenous vein?)
as you may have noticed, I've already begun rambling....
don't get me wrong, I enjoyed growing up in Palo Alto. I had no idea what it meant to be part of a strong school community until later in life. I thought it was normal that 13 of my classmates got accepted to Stanford and most parents wish their offspring continued school at Ivy League universities and colleges. Meeting Jamilah Wideman for dinner at my friend's house bc her father is a professor at Stanford? Of course!
but seriously, it's a blessing and a burden. I live among higher standards so I have to work harder to achieve those standards. I know that I was encouraged to become an engineer or go to med school (nutrition is about the closest I'm getting to med school) and that if I had studied singing at an earlier age, I might have become a good singer, but I've decided nutrition is the way to go. Nutrition education. That's my focus, although it's taken me a little longer than normal to figure out that's where my life is headed. I'm almost five years out of college (undergraduate). I plan on completing a master's (when I've saved up enough money to do so) in public health, nutrition, or nutrition education. The Bay Area is a great place to be in the field of nutrition, also! I was tempted to return to Boston and study health education at BU (my alma mater) for year. I love Boston. But something tells me I should try to make it out here first.
I'm living at home. I'm saving a lot of money not having to pay rent. I try to make it up to my parents by not living the same way I did when I was in high school (eg: I do the dishes and put them away as much as possible; I keep my room tidy; I clean up the house; take out the garbage; take the dog out for her walks). I try to be the mature 26 year old I am despite living at home again. It's tough....but it's not that tough! My parents house is beautiful; I really enjoy living there. but I miss my independence and sometimes, I think my parents miss theirs as well. We don't live the same way we used to together. The three of us have very different schedules, so it's rare when we are all home having dinner together. But it works. For the time being.
