All posts by Kathy Khang

Book Club: Lean In & the Dirty “A” Word

Ambition.

Good Christians usually don’t talk about ambition. Maybe we call it “holy ambition” because if we add “holy” it makes it OK. I’ve read some of the Christian response to “Lean In”, and in a nutshell my take is that we Christians are uncomfortable with ambition. I’m afraid, however, that perhaps we have mistaken humility as the antithesis of ambition. 

And as a result Christian women maybe even more uncomfortable with ambition. I’m uncomfortable talking about it with Christian women until we’ve established some level of safety. I need to know they won’t judge me. That they won’t think I don’t love my children or my husband or my gender because I am considering applying for a promotion.

Sheryl Sandberg is in your face about it.

“This book makes the case for leaning in for being ambitious in any pursuit,” p. 10 (see, still in the intro!)

Any pursuit. Hmmmm. 

As Christian woman I have found it much more acceptable to be ambitious on the home front. Live for your kids and husband, perhaps in that order, because your husband isn’t around during the day and part of the evening, but that’s another chapter. Keep a clean and orderly home. Buy, make, grow, or raise the best, healthiest what-would-Jesus-eat food for your family. Be crafty and a wise steward of money. Be a godly wife and mother.

And that works well, particularly if you are married with children, and that life is something you want and you and your husband willingly agree to.

But not all of us Christian women want that. I want some of that, but I also want to work outside of my home. I enjoy teaching, preaching, speaking, and training. I love it, really. I enjoy writing, and I want to do more of it because (and I say this in a hushed voice) I think I’m good at it.  I enjoy developing those skills as much as I enjoy hearing my husband unload the dishwasher (he really is doing that right now) after I’ve whipped up an amazing meal (that I didn’t do tonight). 

My Christian Asian American parents helped me pay for college, and I enjoy stewarding that gift by also stewarding my gifts of leadership outside of the home. But I know that they have mixed feelings about my sister being a stay-at-home mom after getting a degree in business and about the amount of travel I choose to take on even though I have a husband. 

I just don’t know if it’s OK to say that I have ambitions outside of my home. My home life ambitions have been affirmed in Church. My professional ones? Not so much.

 

Is it OK to tell people I have ambitions? Do you tell people you have ambitions? Would you describe yourself as ambitious? 

Book Club: Lean In & the Dilemma of Self-promoting

“A 2011 McKinsey report noted that men are promoted based on potential, while women are promoted based on past accomplishments.” Sheryl Sandberg, “Lean In” p. 8.

I don’t know if I will ever be able to get past the introduction.

Fortunately for me, I didn’t understand the real world in high school though I was desperate to get there. High school can be/was a difficult place for those not in the “in” crowd (though not even some of the cool kids back then would be able to fit into Abercrombie’s sizing, IMHO). But I had a few teachers (and a few friends) who saw this late-bloomer for what she was – full of potential.

The speech team coach asked me to stop by after school to talk with me about my future. He told me there was no future for me if I kept trying the Dramatic Duet event, but he had an idea. He heard me give a class council speech, and he wanted me to compete. I needed a lot of help, but he saw potential. And I drank that forensics punch like it was water in a desert. Where did that get me? Scholarship money and the confidence and skills to speak in front of a crowd…and get paid to do it.

Potential worked fine in high school, but in the real world women need more than potential to get that promotion. Women need deeds done.

Apparently I start a step behind by being a woman.

And for fun I will throw down the race card. I suspect in many places I take another step back because I am an American of Asian descent. (SPOILER ALERT: Sandberg does not directly address race and ethnicity in her book.)

Having a mentor, advocate, and sponsor will help, but all of those are easier to come by if you are a man. And once a woman has managed her potential, connected with a mentor, advocate, and/or sponsor, and started accomplishing things you finally have a chance.

See?! I’m already feeling internal tension, and I’m just writing about the introduction?!?!

Because somewhere along the journey where we all, men and women, need to self-promote. How else will anyone know what you are doing, what your accomplishments are? But what do you do when you’ve been taught and told to do the exact opposite? Christians need to be humble. Asians are taught not to put yourself above others. Modern women grew up being told all sorts of things, often conflicting things about what makes you a “good” woman. Asian American women may not be valued as much as men within their own families as well as within the culture. Asian Americans are told not to stick out, stand out, brag, or boast. As a Christian Asian American woman, any combination draws a short stick.

So…what say you, fine readers? How have you experienced this in your professional life? Have you known men to be promoted on potential while you need to wait to accomplish? How have you developed your potential into accomplishments?

I’ll add more, but you go first.

 

 

Another Lesson on White (Christian) Privilege From Cleveland

“I want everyone to know that the acts of the defendant is not a reflection of the Puerto Rican community here and in Puerto Rico.”  Cleveland Chief Assistant Prosecutor Victor Perez, at a press conference announcing initial charges against Ariel Castro.

When you are White, you never have to apologize for what another White person does, especially the really, really, really bad stuff. That is White privilege.

If you are White in America you are assumed to be an American. Not a U.S. citizen. Not naturalized. Not a legal resident of “fill-in-the-blank” descent. Just American. That is White privilege.

If a young White American bombs a federal building killing more than 160 people or guns down 20 elementary school children and 6 adults, no White American, male or female, in fear of retaliation, gets in front of the media and apologizes for White people. No officials during a press conference remind the audience that the acts of the defendant are not a reflection of White America. That is White privilege.

The kidnapping/rape/sick-to-your-stomach case in Cleveland is both unbelievable and hopeful. I desperately want more hopeful. I hope people like Charles Ramsey are in every neighborhood. I hope more missing children are found. I hope for justice and healing.

But I don’t know what to feel after hearing Maria Castro-Montes’ apology on behalf of the entire Castro family. I don’t know what is appropriate after hearing Cleveland’s chief assistant prosecutor address the pall of suspicion that falls over an entire community because of one person’s actions. (BTW, I can’t find a link to Perez’s comment I use at the start. I heard it on NPR this morning.)

Anger? Confusion? Disappointment? Resignation?

Why aren’t law enforcement officers and neighborhood religious leaders in front of the media apologizing for failing these three women, their families, the neighborhood? The women and a child were enslaved in their community. This didn’t happen in Puerto Rico. This happened in Cleveland. In America.

When news of a shooting on the campus of Virginia Tech started poring out, I remember emails and calls from colleagues and friends. We held our breath until the identity of the shooter was confirmed. And then we kept holding our breath. Koreans and Americans of Korean descent apologized. Young Asian American men were told in hushed voices and in knowing looks to lay low for a bit – retaliation  doesn’t necessarily distinguish between Korean American and, say, Chinese American. We felt under suspicion by the way media coverage used words to distinguish, differentiate, and define, reminding us that we were actually the “Others”.

I can’t do this turmoil in my heart justice. I can’t. I can’t believe Amanda Berry, Gina DeJesus, and Michelle Knight were enslaved and hidden in the middle of a neighborhood. I am amazed at their courage and at the story of their freedom. I am thankful Charles Ramsey didn’t ignore a woman’s scream for help. And I can’t stand that Ramsey’s past became part of the story and his words are becoming a minstrel show. I can’t stand that Perez felt it necessary and then publicly distanced an entire community from one person’s sins.

It’s only in God’s presence I can know deeply in my soul that my Asian-ness, what I often feel is my other-ness, is a reflection of God’s image. It is part of the plan. Just a part of the whole. We are all human, created male and female, in God’s image. Connected. Castro’s sin isn’t mine or Perez’s or anyone in the Puerto Rican community, but we are connected to one another through our humanity and our brokenness. We all sin.

 

In that way, my disappointment lies mostly with Christian leaders who stay silent on the issues of racial and social injustice, claiming those issues are not the gospel. How can what is happening to my brothers and sisters of any race or ethnicity not be a part of me and a part of how Jesus’ Good News changes the broken into wholeness? How can we as believers not come alongside Perez and Castro-Montes and say this isn’t about you being created in God’s image, your ethnicity and your race, but is about a broken majority culture our Church has both ignored and embraced?

That, my friends, is White Christian privilege.

 

Teacher Appreciation: You’re Never Too Old to Thank a Teacher

Sure, they get summers “off” and if they work in the same school district as their children attend attend school they “share” vacation days. Yes, their workday “ends” with the final bell.

But I actually don’t know those teachers. I remember seeing my teachers working part-time jobs in the mall during summers. I spent more hours after school with many of my teachers than I did with my own family. And I finally figured out that those days off that I got as a student were work days for my teachers.

This week as the parent of a child in the high school, middle school and grade school, I’ve received volunteer notices for teacher appreciation events sponsored by amazing parents who are involved in the schools. My contribution will be cases of water for one of the luncheons.

But I am thankful for each one of my kids’ teachers. My hope and prayer is that each one of my kids will have teachers who make a subject become a passion or make a bad day of adolescent survival better. Not every school district or teacher gets a luncheon this week, but each of us can thank a teacher.

I am thankful for:

Miss Chioles, my kindergarten teacher at Waters Elementary School, Chicago. I remember her black hair and red nail polish, and I remember how she didn’t ignore the Asian girl who couldn’t speak English.

The librarian at Waterbury Elementary School. I’m so sorry I can’t remember your name right now. You introduced me to science fiction through Madeleine L’Engle’s “A Wrinkle in Time” and took a bunch of us to Wheaton College to hear her speak. I still have my signed copy, and L’Engle’s “Two Part Invention” makes me laugh out loud.

Mr. Weinberger, my elementary/junior high school band teacher…at least I think that is his name. He didn’t see us as a bunch of kids. He saw us as musicians. And when he picked out music for solo & ensemble contests I thought he was crazy. I think I can still play part of that piece from memory.

Mr. Studt, my speech team coach at Lake Park High School. He was brutally honest with me. He told me I didn’t have a future as an actress, but I could kick butt as a orator. He taught me about pacing, using the stage, eye contact, inflections, gesturing, and research. He taught me about the power of my voice.

Mrs. Umlauf, my first journalism advisor at Lake Park High School. She handed back to me my first red-marker massacred news story assignment and eventually asked me back to lead the sports section. I was hooked. She taught me about the power of words.

Mr. Ciske, my second journalism advisor at LHS. He made producing an unappreciated high school newspaper fun, and he inspired me to peak after high school. He also taught me the value of respect by respecting me not as a student but as a journalist.

Ms. Steinbring, my photography class teacher at LHS. She made me see that a world in black and white was incredibly beautiful and worth the patience. She was also my class council advisor; she made leading fun.

Who were the teachers you appreciate(d) the most? What did they teach you?

Book Club: Lean In & #firstworldproblems

“But knowing that things could be worse should not stop us from trying to make them better.” Sheryl Sandberg, Lean In, p. 5

“It could always be worse” has never been a salve for my soul. Knowing that someone is suffering more than I am doesn’t make me feel better. It usually makes me feel worse. The #firstworldproblems meme meant to be a bit cheeky, snarky and thoughtful (?) makes me think I spend too much time online and not enough time actually trying to change the things I can change.

There are the little things, the personal things I can change. Turn that frown upside down. Go to bed at a decent time. Walk to the library. Recycle. Reuse. Compost. Garden.

But what are the things that require a bit more heavy lifting? Sandberg’s book has gotten me thinking about leadership and the many venues in which a woman’s leadership can play out. Where do we see the problems and then choose to make the effort to make them better?  Certainly women choosing to lead doesn’t  just mean pregnant women get special parking (though that would’ve been great when I was pregnant with my first child), right?

In my evangelical faith circles, I have to dance this complex dance of affirming God’s will, working within cultural and organizational boundaries/rules/expectations, being encouraging as well as challenging, blessing others to make choices I would never make, asking for the blessing for choices I make that others would never make, and making sure it is all done in prayer, reflection, community, and humility. Sandberg hints at and takes some shots at complexity because she chooses to bring her gender and life stage into play, but in the end many of the solutions are appropriately business-like – cut and dry, you will either choose to lean in or not.  After all of the late night conversations over tears and tissues with girlfriends and female colleagues about the challenges of leading while wearing a bra, I appreciate reading a woman’s voice telling me “we can dismantle the hurdles in ourselves today” (p. 9).

So, who are the women who are  making things better? Who are the women you all look at examples of this?

I can think of several. Nikki Toyama-Szeto. Joanna Lee. Janet Cho. Jessica Lynn Gimeno. They are just some of the women I look to because they are doing more than laughing over #firstworldproblems and living out Jesus’ prayer in their spheres of influence: Your Kingdom come, your will be done, on earth, as it is in heaven.

 

Urban Outfitters, Why? WHY???

The whole “hipster” thing is a bit fascinating and strange because new things made to look like old things are made to be cool and hip…and expensive. Which is odd to me because my old things rarely were expensive, and rarely were they cool. But now “vintage” is cool if its new, and you’re making a statement.

But what kind of statement are you making when you buy something like this:

According to the company website, Urban Outfitters offers "a lifestyle-specific shopping experience for the educated, urban-minded individual in the 18 to 30 year-old range". Why does an 18-year-old need these? Why does anyone need these?

According to the company website, Urban Outfitters offers “a lifestyle-specific shopping experience for the educated, urban-minded individual in the 18 to 30 year-old range”. Why does an 18-year-old need these? Why does anyone need these?

Better yet, what kind of brand statement are you trying to make when you sell stuff like this?

Last night I spent a few delightful hours with a few delightful women talking about  how this world is going to hell. Girls dressing like prostitutes. Grown women dressing like little girls. Pastors referring to their spouses as their “smokin’ hot wives” and honestly believing that is a compliment. (It really, really isn’t.) Some of those same pastors refusing to be taught by women because their God-given femininity gets in the way but books written by women are generally OK because the woman isn’t in the room.

And that rant actually has something to do with this ridiculous stuff Urban Outfitters is selling.

Bratz dolls. Baby doll dresses on grown women. White evangelical pastors talking about their “smokin’ hot wives”. John Piper and his stance on learning from women. None of it is OK. I am so tired of trying to keep a sense of humor in a world that has lost its marbles. I know there is at least a few others tired and outraged because a dear friend let me know about syringe shot shooters through another blog post.

Seriously. When did selling hipster drug paraphernalia become OK? This isn’t a Domo toaster (which I saw on the UA website and thought, “That would make breakfast awesome!”). This along with a few other items on the website make prescription drug abuse a tongue-in-cheek gag, and that is so wrong. The target audience might officially be 18-30 year olds, but as a mother of two teenagers I’m not stupid, even if UA thinks I am. The actual audience is younger. And even with parents hovering over them like helicopters they are soaking up images, messages, values, ideas faster than we can protect them because the grown-ups who care can’t keep up with this stuff, and the grown ups who don’t care will sell it to you.

Real drugs or hipster versions.

I am so tired of this kind of garbage. Are you? Please tell me some of you are.

E-mail the CEO and chairman of Urban Outfitters, Richard A. Hayne:
richard.hayne@urbanout.com

Or keep the US Postal Service busy and send snail mail to the company:
Urban Outfitters Inc.
5000 South Broad St.
Philadelphia, PA 19112-1495

Do you tweet? How about connecting @UrbanOutfitters

Or comment on Facebook.

E-mail Oona McCullough, their Director of Investor Relations at oona.mccullough@urbanout.com

No plans right now? How about emailing the board of directors and other important people who care about profits.

And by the way, the same company owns Anthropologie and Free People.

My parents still tell me that here in America the squeaky wheel gets the grease. Here in America, corporate America pays attention to the bottom line and they now also have to manage their social media presence. We have a voice…it gets louder when others join us.

(Credit goes to My Life as 3D for blogging about this first.)

Running in the Real World

My daughter Bethany will be running her first half marathon Sunday morning. She and my husband Peter have logged many training miles together having discovered the perfect race in a running magazine. “The Flying Pig” half marathon – perfect for the girl born in the year of the pig.

The only thing we worried about was keeping both father and daughter injury-free. But as we watched news unfold about the April 15th Boston Marathon bombing I realized that the real world continues to change. She asked if we should be worried about her race, and I was as honest as I could be.

Yes and no.

No one here in America expects to be bombed, and while I am well aware shootings are part of the day-to-day in many places across the U.S., bombings are not. Despite the Oklahoma City Bombing, the World Trade Center and 9/11, we don’t really worry about bombs. So no, don’t worry, my darling. Chances are The Flying Pig run and runners will finish in safety.

But if I stop just for just a moment longer the shadow of a darker reality can’t be ignored. Race organizers have changed gear check procedures and reminded runners not to leave things along the race course. Periodic checks and sweeps of the course will be completed, and anything found unattended will be thrown out. Running in the real world will have to look a little different, just like the landscaping around buildings changed with the addition of large concrete barricades a la planters and architectural eye candy. Just like airport security changed. Just like checking in at the school changed.

The real world plays off of our fears while simultaneously tricking us into believing steel doors with lockdown systems at schools will keep the crazy gunman out or limiting liquids to 3 oz. in a quart-size plastic bag will keep the airplane from blowing up or the ugly concrete planters in front of the important buildings will keep bombs from driving through the building.

So yes, my darling, running in the real world means I worry a little bit, because I don’t believe having runners’ gear checked into clear bags is going to keep you safe. The real world will never keep you safe, but don’t let that stop you from running your heart out.

 

Book Club: A Knee-jerk Reaction to Lean In

There will be a handful of women with whom I will be able to discuss Sheryl Sandberg’s “Lean In: Women, Work, and the Will to Lead” in person, but it’s worth hoping I can engage a few readers of her book in this safe space of mine. I’m willing to risk the safety for what I believe is an important conversation for men and women.

The target audience no doubt is women, but as I woman I found myself having to check my own gender biases as I scribbled notes and marked up the book for future conversations and processing. I wondered about her childcare arrangements. I asked a friend if she thought Sandberg cleaned her own house. I couldn’t relate to many of her examples because I am not a senior executive in a for-profit corporation. And I found myself internally critiquing the book in a way I reserve for other female authors.

You see, I’ve read Patrick Lencioni, Tom Rath, Barry Conchie, Noel Tichy, and Marcus Buckingham.  And never did I dismiss things they wrote simply because they had a nanny. In fact, I don’t even know if those men are married, have children, or hire a nanny. I’ve worked on teams where we’ve all read their books and discussed leadership development strategies without ever considering whether or not their advice is worth its weight based on their childcare arrangements. By and large, those authors write about leadership never mentioning lactation rooms, maternity leave, or “having it all” because they are men.

So why should I (or any of us) dismiss anything Sandberg has to say about leadership, self-managment or ambition because she might one day watch her children ask for their nanny instead of her? Doesn’t the fact that she includes personal illustrations about parking while pregnant give her more credibility?

Personally, I think it should. No, I do not have a nanny. But there are many times I wish I did. My kids are now all in school, but in the past I have used full-time infant daycare. Does that mean I am less of a leader at work? I have paid someone to watch and care for my child. Does that mean my experiences as a supervisor are less valuable than that of a male colleagues? I have had friends question my devotion to the children God gave me without ever questioning my husband’s devotion. Does that mean I shouldn’t write about motherhood? I have left my children at home while I travel overnight for several nights on my own, and I have listened to men and women pat Peter on the back for “babysitting” the kids “letting” me have some time away – usually time away to steward well my gifts and skills in leadership and speaking. Does that mean I am a parent, and he is a babysitter?

I’m working. And so is he. I am a parent, and so is he.

So, if you haven’t picked up the book, please put your name on the library wait-list, borrow a copy, or buy it. It’s worth the read, minus our own gender biases.

Who wants to talk more “Lean In” with me?

20 Things I Learned Through 20 Years of Marriage

Trust me. The math actually works out. Peter and I have been married for 20 years. Some lessons were easier than others. Some are still in process. Some require a lifetime. I’m grateful beyond words, but this is a blog so words are required.

Here are some lessons about myself and about life through marriage learned in no particular order.

  1. I can be a selfish, whiny brat. Ask Peter.
  2. Planning a wedding is easier than loving and honoring your spouse in sickness and till death. (And I had one heck of a wedding.)
  3. Seek out marriage counseling early and often.
  4. Make new friends as a couple.
  5. Make new friends as individuals.
  6. Fall bowling leagues actually last through spring.
  7. I am far too practical to enjoy romance but apparently not so practical that I can’t enjoy sparkly things.
  8. Subwoofer/laser disc/DVD/Blu Ray is a love language for some people.
  9. I thought I married a mind reader. He did, too.
  10. Love is a verb. It is a choice. Everyday.
  11. I do not like “traditional” gender roles when it comes to cooking, cleaning and child rearing.
  12. I like “traditional” gender roles when it comes to shoveling, mowing or cutting down large trees.
  13. I do not like my husband associating with men who refer to parenting their own children as “babysitting”.
  14. I do not like associating with women who call what the fathers of their children do as “babysitting” .
  15. Sometimes you have to go to bed angry with each other because it’s better to go to bed with the understanding you will talk later than to argue when tired.
  16. Men aren’t the only ones who enjoy sex, think about sex or initiate sex.
  17. You really are marrying into a family, not marrying the individual.
  18. Children should not be the center of your marriage.
  19. The Church needs to talk more about healthy friendships and marriages because the world around me is still shouting louder and more effectively.
  20. It never hurts to say, “Thank you” and “I love you” for no other reason than you mean it.

Happy 20th anniversary to me and Peter. I am so glad I laughed through “Wayne’s World.” I am sorry it took me so long to stay awake (and then thoroughly enjoy “The Holy Grail”). I don’t think I will ever stay awake through “The Purple Rose of Cairo.”

 

In Times Like These We Are All Americans. Not Really. Let’s All Be Human.

By the time I finish editing this post, the name of the third victim killed in the Boston Marathon bombing will be making its way around the interwebs. Look at how the news media writes about her, her country. Please take a look at the comments on those stories. Maybe you will be surprised. I’m hoping to be surprised by our humanity, but so far not so much.

Because in times like these, we are actually not all Americans. Tragedy, despite what newscasters might have us believe, can often be quite divisive. I’m well aware of the many random acts of kindness, and how Bostonians literally opened up their homes and shared their resources. But when you heard about the bombing, did you think, even for a moment, “I hope the perp isn’t (fill in the blank with your choice of race, ethnicity, citizenship, etc.).”? I did. Remember Virginia Tech. That was only six years ago. The South Korean government apologized on the shooter’s behalf.

In times like these, the “other” is always to blame.  Don’t forget the erroneous reports about a Saudi national being held for questioning. Unless you are an American, and dare I say look “American”, your involvement, your presence may be called into question. There were plenty of people on the scene that looked like Timothy McVeigh or Terry Nichols. One comment on a news article read: “…we have enough problems without involving the Chinese.”

But the Chinese are involved. In fact, the world is involved. As far as I know, the Boston Marathon draws an international running community together. And she was there to watch, just like thousands of other fellow human beings.

She was a Chinese graduate student at Boston University, not much older than my own daughter, and very much like many of the college and university students I interact with through my work with InterVarsity Christian Fellowship. In fact, before turning on the news I knew through Facebook this young woman had attended an InterVarsity graduate student fall conference. She had friends. She had a roommate. She was known. And she was loved.

This morning I heard a talking head on the television say that her name had not yet been released because her parents had not yet told her grandparents. Her parents were concerned the grandparents would not be able to handle the news.

In a culture like ours, where free speech and an individual’s right to bear arms like a battalion headed into war are sacred, where news and misinformation are often confused for one another, where the news cycle never stops on any front, it may seem odd to want to keep such important, personal, yet devastating news from loved ones when people are wondering “who is the third victim”. But for Eastern culture, familial ties run deep and are visceral. Perhaps it is because we in America expect to see a grieving loved one bravely face the cameras or give the media a quote or statement. We respect the grief, but we want to be allowed to be a part of it. But for this young woman’s family, the grief might just physically overcome the grandparents. Or perhaps, her activities here could call her entire family into question under a government in a culture that seems so unlike “ours”.

We may never know all of the details of her life, but that shouldn’t make her less human, less a victim, less important. I do not know if she and I shared a faith in Jesus, but in times like these I don’t care whether or not she was an American. She was my sister, bearing the image of God just as the unnamed Saudi national, Martin Richard and Krystle Campbell.

May the Lord have mercy on us all.

 

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