double blogging here. lame, i know.

moobie reflection - by wunbeanie

so i just watched ‘LINCOLN’ at the ritz in old city. and i was on the edge of my seat the entire time – partially ‘coz i was stuffing my face with popcorn, and didn’t want any of it to fall on my lap; partially because i am used to sitting on the edge of my seat (years of piano, orchestra, dentistry…); and partially because i was totally immersed in the movie.
i loved the acting and the dialogue. ahhhhhh. so good!
of course, the entire time, however, i couldn’t help but JUDGE. i judge my confederate brothers and sisters. like, “DUH, slavery is WRONG!… what KIND of bible are YOU reading?”
thank God, those days are over.
except they are not. human slavery is apparently at its all-time high, globally speaking.
and, of course, i always turn into what i judge. or i always notice that i am judging myself when i judge others.
i cringed when i was at my home church yesterday for the holidays – a taiwanese church, taiwanese people smugly knowing that chinese folks would not come to hear a sermon preached in the taiwanese language.
and i cringed when i imagined myself, decades later, thinking about my present day and asking/judging, “what kind of bible was i reading/living, after all?” … i’m trying to love God with all my heart, soul, mind, above all else. i’m trying to love my neighbour as myself. i’m trying to live among the broken, and identify as broken. i’m trying to serve the poor, the orphans, the widows. i’m trying to share my possessions. i’m sure the founding fathers were trying too.
Lord, help us!
merry Christmas!

five months in da hood

currently hibernating in michigan. have some time to sit down. think about some funny and/or life-changing stories, or terrible stories that i have to think about with humour in order to better cope with the brokenness of humanity.

ok.

verbal vomitage to come.

Writing for blogs owned by Daves

Recycling posts here...

I received invites from two bloggers named Dave (one in Delaware, one in California) to write about the location where I live. I’ve been meaning to sit and write, since it’s good therapy. Who here doesn’t need therapy? Therefore, I figured this would be an opportunity to kill multiple birds with one stone. This use of metaphor has nothing to do with my disdain of birds, or my love for Chik-fil-a’s spicy chicken deluxe sandwich.
Today, I voted for the first time in my neighbourhood. I walked 6 blocks, about half a mile, at dimly lamplit 6 p.m. to get to my polling place.
People tell me I shouldn’t walk by myself in the dark in the city, let alone, the inner city. People often express concern for my safety, and occasionally express anger about my move to North Philadelphia. One of my justification attempts is: “Well, it’s not like I’m walking around by myself at night.” Oops.
I walked towards the entrance and someone handed me a flyer: “HOW TO VOTE DEMOCRAT: PUSH #2 STRAIGHT TICKET”… something like that.
Flashback to 2008 – my family’s first time voting as U.S. citizens. I went to vote with my mom. She was peeved by my Obama t-shirt. At the front of the line, I gave her a hug and said, “Do the right thing, Mama!” She pushed me away and responded with a shameless, “Aiya! Stop campaining in my face! That’s illegal!”
Back to 2012, I looked at the flyer, then looked at the woman. SMH. She asks, “Do you know how to vote? I can tell you if you don’t.”
I’m not sure if she wants to tell me HOW to vote (Democrat), or how to use the electronic voting machines (read the instructions on the machine and follow them).
For a moment I forget why I am living in the community and almost say, “Why the hell would I choose to live here if I weren’t a Democrat?!?!” And even though Republicans get on my nerves sometimes, I am indignant at how one might feel alienated or judged if they were registered at this election site. Meanwhile, I’m also feeling defensive towards her hypothetically assuming I didn’t know how to use the machines because I’m Asian and maybe couldn’t speak/read English.
So, I didn’t end up voting straight ticket, partially out of spite at this flyer, partially because the electronic machine was so much easier than the bubble sheet I had to fill out 4 years ago in Michigan, while living the dental school life of constantly filling out bubble sheets to the point of tears.
A few hours later, as I write this, I am annoyed at myself – for being inconsistent between what I say and what I do, for not wanting to be labelled or typecast based on my life decisions or group identities, yet wanting to label myself, and for letting go of my primary identity and prioritizing an identity that I normally don’t prioritize. I think this is what makes it difficult to [live in and] write about my experience in ‘da hood. I want to discover and articulate generalities about cultural behaviour, because maybe understanding will make me feel more in control, but I can’t even predict my own thoughts and reactions half the time.
As mentioned above, therapy is needed. Hopefully, if I can keep this writing thing up, I will be more sane, while perhaps appearing more insane to you, poor reader.
And maybe I will also have better titles for future blog posts.

can't run can't hide

recently re-read through this blog.

i've been in kensington 3 months.

i laugh at my previous post of hoping to have a dramatic change in my social life by relocating to the hood. i had hope of becoming a morning person. i had hope of being more focused. of being less spread out. of being less social. of having deeper but fewer friends.

hm... change must start on the inside. change is only from God.

i tried to change myself by changing my circumstances. i was hoping that no one would call me to hang out since i was in the hood. i thought my life would be easier if no one would call me if they needed a place to stay since i lived in a 'dangerous' neighbourhood.

ha. ha. ha.

what's been happening is that it seems like more people are calling to hang out. or even just showing up at my door. more people are visiting whether to spend time, or out of worry, or to catch up. more people are asking for a place to stay, whether to need a place to stay, or because they don't like that i'm staying here by myself in a dangerous hood. it's even harder to say no to social things. i'm waking up way later because i can make it to work door-to-door in 6 minutes. i'm staying up late trying to plan to try to plan to try to plan how to get all the home renovations done.

okeee. so i can't change myself by running away. some things are perhaps just inherent w/ my personality and how i've been conditioned for ministry. i surrender. and i embrace it. this is how God made me. no need to be uptight about things.

so, this new attitude is helpful. i'm enjoying all the visitors more. i am learning to say no to more things and to set aside time to rest. i am trying to be more intentional with spending time w/ others. i'm okay with having a zillion people in my life. i can't control that. and the less i try to control that, the less stressful life becomes.

speaking of internal change... my prayer for kensington is not that the dilapidated homes will be made new, or that the abandoned lots will be all turned into parks, or that rich developers will come and nice-i-fy or gentrify the hood. that would be superficial change. my prayer is that the people of the community would see their worth as God's people, that they are not trash, that they are empowered by the Holy Spirit, and not disempowered by society, that they are called to work whether they have 'real jobs' or not, that they are called to take care of each other and love their neighbours, that they are to raise their children according to the ways of the lord, that they are to honour their parents.

once this identity change happens, then people will start picking up the trash, people will start going to school, people will start picking the lice outta their hair, people will eradicate their bed bugs, people will stop killing each other over drugs, people will stop abusing their family members, parents will quit letting their kids skip school, sugar will stop poisoning people's bodies, i won't have to do any more root canals, and we can be functional together.

on failure

one patient was telling us about her 12 yr old daughter. rolls her eyes. "i gotta take her to WIC later today."
me: "wait. the women and children thing?"
patient: "yup."
me: "wait. for you? or for her?"
patient: "she's 5 months pregnant."
me: "your daughter? isn't she 12?"
patient: "yup." rolls eyes. pauses. then BURSTS INTO TEARS. "i feel like such a FAILURE."

umm.. intense moment alert! i gotta calm her down so she's not as anxious when i pull out her molar. good thing both my assistant and receptionist happen to be in the room too.
"no!" they console her. "these things happen!" (in their world, it's more common. but it doesn't really happen in the world i came from.) "the important thing is that you are there for her now. you are going to support her through this, because she is going to need your help." they encouraged her.

patient: "yes, she is going to finish school. i'm going to help as much as i can. i'm sorry. i felt like a failure before. but i think i've gotten over that. my mother put things into perspective for me. i mean, at least she's not out on the streets doing drugs or selling her body."

we prayed for her not to be scared about removing her tooth, and then prayed for her family. i took out the tooth and had to plow through the rest of the crazy day. most of the time i do not feel like a dentist. WTH am i doing. anyway....

with the job that i do, i think a lot about humanity, this world, the human condition, what's biblical and what's right, what are man-made definitions of life, and what are God's kingdom definitions of life...
sometimes i see mothers who are so amazing and awesome. they can raise multiple children the exact same way. maybe 4 of them turn out 'successful'. and then there's one 'black sheep'. so what happened here?

often in the community where i work, i see mothers who might easily be considered 'incompetent'. some openly love their children. some clearly do not love their children. sometimes it's hard to tell who loves and who doesn't, because our world has such as skewed/diverse/non-biblical view of what love is. some people may think that love is buying their kids candy all the time; perhaps because they want their kids to be happy, rather than healthy. and some are clearly just overwhelmed and find that is the only way to get the kids to stop bothering them.

i thought about my patient's statement. that she says she doesn't feel like a failure anymore. that "at least she's not doing [insert something 'worse' than being pregnant at age 12 here]" 

BUT, what do you tell the mother who does have a child on drugs, or a child who is selling his/her body? are they failures?

thankfully for the whole world, the Gospel says that we are ALL failures.

i know that may sound like bad news. but to me that is such good news.

that God sends his son Jesus. that Jesus leaves heaven to come to a jacked up world. that Jesus doesn't just die for people who try hard, or are 'good enough', but he dies AND LIVES for everyone and anyone.

the six minute commute

walking down G street this morning i witnessed a little boy wearing a leather jacket, prolly about 7 or 8 yrs old, maybe 3 foot 10 inches tall, walks out of the corner store, spots one of his buddies across the street, points to him and nods his head as if to say, "yo", then calmly and cooly walks down the sidewalk sippin on his capri sun.

later today...

walking back to work after lunch and i glimpsed the thug walking behind me, ubiquitous young man of colour, prolly 21-23, wearing warmups and sneakers, into his music w/ his earbuds in the ears.

typical music in the hood is rap or hiphop or bachata or some spanish love ballads.

to my surprise he starts belting, "maaaaajesty, maaaaaajesty" pause.... "maaaaajestyyyyy" pause... "your grace has found me just as i am"... pause "maaaajesstyyyyyy"...

he was pretty out of tune. but it was pretty awesome that someone is singing a new song in the neighbourhood. i was tempted to fill in with the lines that he didn't know well enough to sing along ("empty handed but alive in your hands...") or perhaps start harmonizing... but i didn't want to invade his moment of personal worship.

that song always reminds me of junior year praise night skit when we used to have transparency projectors and did a silhouette skit of the crucifixion. yeah!!!

laugh at least once a day.

i would like to laugh at least once a day. i think i always do.

today i extracted #17 on E. he was super scared and needed his gf to come in the room w/ him for moral support. after the injection, he exclaimed, "ayeeee!!! this is why i don't go to the dentist!!!"

and then i made fun of him for having multiple tattoos and cannot handle a 27 gauge needle. and his gf laughed. we only make fun out of love.

after the tooth came out, he was impressed, "that's it?!"

me: congrats, it's a boy!
gf: hahahahaha
me: just kidding.
gf: wow, that's so small.
E: lemme see it!
me: size doesn't matter here.
gf: hahahahaha.
me: would you like to see it?
E: lemme see!
gf: he's beautiful!!!!
me: hahahahaha
E: eeeewwwww!!!!!
E: eeeeewwwwwwww!!!!!
E: eeeewwwwwwwwwwwwww!!!!
E: EEEEEEEEEEEWWWWWWWWWWW!!!!
me: you just said 'ew' four times in a row!
gf: hahahhahah
E: lemme keep him!!!
gf: HIM?!!!
assistant ty: what's his name?
me: hahahahaha
E: his name is toothy!
ty: hahahahhaah
me: you can have it but we gotta clean it first.
E: yessss!!!!
gf: gross
me: are you going to make a necklace out of it?
E: yessss!!!!!

smelliness

the other day we had a dramatic day in clinic. seriously, like all the most complicated patients happened to be scheduled on the same day and they all happened to show up.
God must really love us and wants us to experience Him (through suffering/sanctification). hah.

anyway. T shows up with her 3 kids. she doesn't really have a major tooth issue, but i wanted to see her because i wanted to refer her to our social workers. i felt dumb for not thinking of it before. it was pretty clear that she needed help, but i dunno why it never occurred to me. it took a lot of deliberation on behalf of my very compassionate and astute auxiliary team for that thought to click. so, after polishing her filling (it was 'rough') i asked if she had ever talked to a social worker before, and if she was interested in doing that. i explained that our social services managers are great because they could refer her to a lot of resources. there is a ton of aid for single mothers, especially.

back story is that, T is 25, three kids ages - 5, 3, 1. parents abused her throughout life. she eventually got kicked out of the parents house. youngest baby was the result of a stranger rape off the street. everyone smells like urine. 5 year old touched the white counter top with her hand and it turned black. toddler and baby have major diaper rash, visibly spreading out of diaper to thighs. first time i saw the baby, he pooped his diaper. i told mom that she could change him if she wished, and not to worry about making me wait. she said she would prefer to just get the dental checkup over and done with and offered to "just wrap him in a blanket". so she rolled him up in a blanket like a burrito and we did a knee-to-knee exam. wth? ... T is struggling w/ depression, stuff like that. she's currently homeless, but occasionally her mom will help w/ the kids (once per week), and then i guess the oldest child's baby daddy (+new girlfriend) have taken them all in, just to help out. but apparently he is stealing her food stamps. i unfortunately see a lot of "the other baby mama" interactions. sigh.
on top of that, i recently discovered that T's father was a pt i had seen when i first started working... he had just gotten a sex change. so, i guess that makes him a grandma now.
i once saw HER on the streets walking with a stroller and baby, prolly the 1 yr old, now that i look back. it blows my mind to think about the baby's worldview and concept of 'grandma/pa' and how it'll differ from what he sees in all the children's books/movies/tv. i mean, not just the fact that grandma is trans-sexual, but she also has tattoos randomly located all over her body (looks like a kid stuck stickers all over her), multiple piercings in both cheeks, and the fact that s/he was staying w/ his/er wife.

T seems interested in talking to a social worker and even waits in the waiting room until she can come upstairs to assess and refer. DHS was not anywhere on my radar. but for some reason T suddenly became very anxious once social services came upstairs to talk to her. the kids became more outta control. there was a ton of commotion/noise coming from them.

T denied that the kids were always in that filthy external condition.and that today was the exception. we knew that it was not. but we also knew that T consistently also smells like urine. perhaps her nose just got used to the smell. and once we are dirty for several days, we forget how dirty we are, i guess.

as heart-breaking as this situation may be, i was convicted of my own sin and depravity. how it's easy to just get used to the smell. and God sees all of our sins as putrid. THE SMELL is repulsive to Him. the more i'm in it, the less i can smell it. the less i notice. i just live with it. but it doesn't mean that others can't smell it. and it doesn't mean that the smell doesn't exist.

back to blogging

part of the reason i haven't been able to blog this past year was because there's been too much going on in my head regarding moving to kensington.

last summer in june, renee and maegen were looking for a place to live. they asked if i wanted to join them, and if i wanted to live in kensington. i said i wasn't ready to leave my roommate situation in chinatown yet, but if the opportunity came up to purchase a house in kensington, i would buy it and rent it to them.

a few days later i found myself w/ renee, ruth and tara walking around the neighbourhood, looking at homes w/ "for sale" signs and talking to the neighbours. we met a lot of memorable people, and i got to see what types of homes were for sale/compare what kinds of costs are involved.

anyway, an entire saga ensued.more on this later...

one year later, God provided a house and the funds to buy it, and i'm moving on saturday to tha 'hood. i guess i've always wanted to 'do missions'. so this kinda feels like that. but also not really. coz i just needed a place to live. and it's also my dream to roll out of bed and walk to work.

this move will definitely cause a lifestyle change. it'll be kinda like guatemala again, where i gotta be in by a certain time coz otherwise it's too dangerous to be outside. and so perhaps i will be a morning person. i'm going to have to depend on my neighbours, coworkers, church family A LOT, and learn how to ask for help.

since i will be a homebody (yay!)... hopefully... i will have time to read, write, pray, arts and crafts. maybe. or i may simply resort to my busybee, getting to know a lot of new people destiny. sigh.

on fear

just went to maui for ning's wedding. the first two nights i stayed with local strangers (jennifer and anaki) found on airbnb's website.
i told this to a few people at work, including a patient. they were all afraid for my life. to many people, staying with random people is cause for fear. it's not wise to be overly trusting because there are so many crazies out there. what if they harmed me? what if they were sketchy?

fear of the unknown is what's common to man, i suppose.

i tried not to think of "bad things that could happen to me" by couch surfing. 'tis true that i generally trust humanity, despite all the crap that i see in philly each day, and beyond philly as well. but, interacting with new people and strangers is not unknown to me, i suppose. i've done several homestays in countries not my own. i love and still keep in touch w/ my french and japanese families. they are a part of me. my parents taught open hospitality. we hosted several folks in our home for dinner/overnight stay simply because of taiwanese connections. i absolutely love staying in people's homes and exchanging cultures/stories.  anyway, i guess because i haven't been personally traumatized, this kind of lifestyle is easy for me.

my patient who was concerned with my safety definitely feared staying with strangers. some comments about his life - he's committed crimes, been to prison, did some tattoos on himself while in jail, currently lives in the inner city. how are these activities any less scary?!

btw, i asked him how he did tattoos in jail. an older patient once told me that he used ink from a xerox machine. this patient told me that he fabricated a tattoo gun by taking the motor from a CD player, attaching it to some batteries and using old guitar strings as a 'needle'. they would use graphite from a pencil as ink. it didn't always work as expected though.

oh, okay.

my north philly coworkers always tell me i'm a little crazy for driving 9 hours to michigan by myself. that's apparently scarier than growing up in tha hood hearing frequent gunshots. "at least there are people around!" i guess you have a point. perhaps the fear is being alone. if one dies from a stray bullet, at least there will likely be witnesses and "people around". sure.

the point is we fear the unknown. when i think about God and the being who created the universe, it's pretty fear-inspiring. when i think of God who is created time. who transcends time. who transcends human language, thought, imagination, and understanding. that is known to me. but still vastly UNKNOWN. i fear.

recently a friend from home group emailed everyone and said that she had an epiphany. that if she fears God the most, then nothing else is worth fearing. i remember first realizing that sophomore year of college when i was fearing my boss. this thought helped me overcome that fear. but, a decade later i am quick to forget these things and need these reminders.

blogworld sigh blogging

asked patient today, "so, do you like water?"...in reference to the big tattoo on his neck of the chinese character for water.

patient: "huh?"
me: "did you know your tattoo says 'water' in chinese?"
patient to assistant: "[mumbling something in spanish...]"
assistant to patient: "ella entiende!" ("she understands!")
patient: "es por el Latin Kings"
me: "oh, the gang?"
patient: "si" ("yes")
me: "cool! well, it also says 'water'."

...google image searching 'chinese character for water'...

me: "mira!" ("look!")

patient: "oh."
me: "well, i guess that part looks like a "K" right there... and at least it means 'water' instead of something awful like 'stinky cheese' or something"

ANYWAY, i never judge my patients for being in gangs. read up on some wikipedia articles on various gangs... very fascinating topic to me! hopefully none of them feel judged when they disclose this type of info to us. but, i sometimes wonder if they think i am judging their tattoos.

yesterday had lunch w/ a bunch of church family at one of our pastor's homes. of course, part of the conversation is dominated by dental questions. karen, a nicu nurse, mentioned that it is interesting to be so specialized, that my 40+ hours a week is consumed with problem solving and management with regards to teeth. just teeth. i thought about this and responded that i probably only think about teeth 15% of the time. the rest of the time is spent thinking about my patients' complex social issues, and the habit of having staff devotions each morning really helps me have eternity on my mind throughout the day.

today i did very little dentistry, but it was just as tiring as one of those days where it's just fillings and extractions all day long. today M came in with her son. J is the cutest and best-behaved. he had a rogue tattoo on his forearm. the tattoo was from bubble gum. (too much sugar!) anyway, he had a tooth abscess so we had to remove the tooth.

MEANWHILE, monin asked M about her teenage stepdaughter, N. N was supposed to come in january to have a crown delivered but didn't show up because she had run away from home. N is a commonly rebellious teenage girl, and her troubled relationship with step-mom, M, aggravates the situation. we've only seen them a few times. but within these few visits we've seen glimpses of dysfunction. having knowledge of how much dysfunction my own family has in the home compared to in public, i can only imagine the anger and frustration that N and M have toward one another.

-once M was upset that she had to stay in the waiting room while N was getting some fillings done. N is still a minor and needs a parent or guardian present to do any irreversible procedures. M broadcast to yoli that, "i don't understand why she needs a guardian present, if she's allowed to have sex!" whoa mama. N was in the waiting room amidst other patients who could hear this conversation clearly. this is all being said with a feisty spanish accent.

-when N did not show up for her crown appointment, monin spoke with M on the phone. she responded with, "i have no idea if she's going to show up. she's run away again and i have no idea where she is. i don't care anymore!"

-today, while we're doing a filling and extraction on J, M is pouring out her heart to us. poor J is getting his tooth pulled while listening to all this. "she's run away again. [...] i'm so upset that she was a straight-A student but decided to quit. who knows where she is and who she's hangin' with. i tried to tell her that if she is involved at the scene of a crime or is aware of her crowd doing bad things, the police will consider her an accomplice, so she'd better make better decisions. [...] she is currently dating another girl. and she's going to be 18 soon, so she can do whatever she wants, but i don't want her to bring her girlfriend into my home, where my children are - they are too young to see this. [...] she needs learn that things don't come for free, we work really hard to provide for the family. [...] i try to care for her, spend time with her and take her shopping. it's really hard to guide a child when her real mother isn't supportive and her father isn't disciplining her. [...] if she were my child i would pull her hair and give her a spank. but i can't do that because i'm her step-mother. [...] the bible says to take a rod to one's children. [...]"

-other things were said but my spanish comprehension couldn't keep up.

so i spent 45 minutes of my day processing this broken family saga.

and then i spent about 30 seconds thinking about how N is going months and months with a temporary crown in her mouth. and then another 90 seconds thinking about how maybe God let J have an abscessed tooth because He wanted M to come in and have a chance to vent her heart out to someone who would listen (monin did a better job at listening, since M's spanish is about 90 mph).

even though M is trying to be a good parent, there are so many circumstances and humanness that will cause her to fail at various moments. even though she does love and does care, she is unable to love and care perfectly. we might not all fall short this visibly, but we all fall short. and this is where grace needs to come in and do grace work. (versus human works).

she told us also that her medicaid was recently deactivated, so now she's not sure how to take care of herself, where to get care and how to get counseling, which she desires. i told her that she could continue coming to our clinic; however, without insurance she would have to pay on a sliding fee scale. i encouraged her to seek a church, and likely churches will have counseling resources. at the very least, she could talk to a pastor. (who hopefully has some counseling experience).

a thought that came to mind was that M does not have anyone in her life telling her that God loves her, or maybe that anyone loves her. whereas, i have multiple people, the Word hidden in my heart at a young age, and the Holy Spirit, telling me that Jesus loves and accepts me - multiple times a day .

God's challenge for me today is to share this good news in a sensitive way to all i encounter.

the liberty of doing things for Christ

-happy new year. still processing 2011. but glad 2012 is rolling along.

-'alejandro' is a little boy with severe autism. his mom is weary because she is home schooling him. he is unable to go to school because he is not yet potty trained at age 6. to his mom's surprise he let ada take his xrays. he also let me look in his mouth with a mirror only. a sharp-looking explorer he did not allow. cavities were found. there was no way he would let me drill his teeth. in this case i refer patients to a pediatric specialist, who can administer some type of sedative or anxiolytic. i was able to pray for alejandro and his mother. contrary to the way the world works, i felt soooo much freedom in being weak and incapable, when all i could do was pray for a patient in Christ's name. it is so burdensome to do things for results, to do things for the approval of others, or to do things for my own satisfaction. in the end i will be accountable to God alone. i want to do everything for Him. when i am surrendering control, He who holds the world in His hands is in control. when i am incompetent with my own strength, He who is all-powerful can work through me. and i am free.