All posts by Kathy Khang

How Many Times Have You Sworn This Year?

I have raised my right hand and promised so many things so many times this year – to be truthful, that I am really me, that I will perform work of national importance under civilian direction when required by law…So help me God.

Monday the cold medication was working remarkably well so I took the kids to our local library so they could check out books, video games and a movie while I took another oath. Actually, the plan was to register to vote…which required documents and another oath.

So there I stood with my kids at my side and with lookers-on looking quite confused as I again raised my right hand and repeated the words, which I can’t remember. I think I swore that I was who the documents said they were and that I lived where they said I lived. I don’t remember…

Which is a bit troubling to me. For all the oaths I’ve taken this year in my American journey, I can’t say that I remember many of those promises and allegiances. Hmm…

The Little Voice Inside My Head

Right now my head is a bit stuffed up thanks to a cold, but the little voice inside my head usually takes no prisoners. This past weekend, however, it was not expecting such a direct confrontation.

“Why don’t you think you’re an ‘A-level’ speaker?” asked a respected colleague of mine.

The little voice inside my head was very quick on its feet and replied, “I actually don’t do a lot of teaching and preaching so I don’t get as much practice as an A-level speaker would have. I tend to ramble a bit. And, I let life hijack me and my emotions too much to bring my A-game every time.”

I’m fairly comfortable in front of a crowd, can make eye contact, etc. Larry Studt, my high school speech team coach, taught me well. I’m a good public speaker, not great. Good. At the same time, I’ve never considered putting my name in the hat to be the Bible expositor at our summer training weeks, nor have I considered myself to be of that caliber. Self-promotion is not my MO. I was raised to believe that if you are that good, someone surely will notice and advocate on your behalf. There is no need to toot your own horn if you’re that good, right?

Um. Sort of. Sometimes? Maybe? Not always?

I’ve often wondered if there is unique flavor to female self-doubt, or perhaps a unique spin to a woman’s self-confidence. I know so many strong, successful women who are often surprised when asked to consider putting their names in the hat for a promotion, a speaking gig, a leadership role. Add to that any cultural layers that explicitly or implicitly limit a women’s role and there you have a interesting combination – confident self-doubters.

My colleague later asked me what I could only presume was a rhetorical question: “Why aren’t you out there more speaking?”

There are a lot of good reasons. I’ve spent the past 14+ years having and raising three amazing children. Speaking gigs don’t always fit in between childbirth, nursing, weaning, teething, potty training, preschool, kindergarten and suddenly high school registration.

And perhaps there were a few opportunities to put myself out there and to get a little more training and experience when I let the little voice have too much space. Perhaps.

I’ve found ways to quiet and calm the little voice – mentors and trusted colleagues and friends who will give honest feedback, trying new topics and speaking in front of new audiences, and listening to my own voice.

What does the little voice inside your head stop you from doing or trying or experiencing? How, if at all, does gender or ethnicity, play into your experience of self-doubt? How have you silenced that voice of self-doubt or have you found it helpful?

This past weekend was good for my soul on so many levels, and I’m still thinking about the questions my colleague threw at me. And I’m rethinking, reconsidering how I might answer them the next time those questions come my way.

Image is Everything

Do you care about what others think of you?

I do. Sometimes I don’t care at all because I’m at the gym to get my cardio done and mascara and my version of cardio don’t mix well. Sometimes I care too much (like during junior high and high school, and when I’m around a group of people I don’t know well). Maybe it was all that great training I got in high school – poms, speech team, student council and the school newspaper. You learn about image and presenting yourself well. You learn about diction, eye contact and presence. You learn that even if you don’t care what other people think of you those people are forming opinions about you.

This weekend I’m headed off to Ohio to spend the weekend with some amazing InterVarsity students and staff to talk with and learn from one another about God, Jesus, faith, culture, ethnicity and identity. I cannot say this enough. I love my job.

We will be talking about image – what we think of ourselves and perhaps what others think of us. My hope is that we will be honest with ourselves and with one another.

So I’ll be honest. The worst part of public speaking isn’t the public speaking (even if it can feel as vulnerable as standing on stage with nothing on but your underwear). It’s packing for speaking gigs. Yup. Stupid? Yes. No. Maybe. Packing unnerves me because I want to project just the right vibe – accessible, warm, engaging, cool, but not trying-too-hard-to-be-cool cool, fashionable but not in a materialistic way, intelligent, prepared and wise but not old. That is a lot of for an outfit to do, right? And knowing that about myself makes me feel vain and foolish.

Where is the middle or appropriate ground when dealing with the way we look and present ourselves? I feel like it’s particularly dicey for women, and there additional issues for women of color. What do you worry about when it comes to your image and where or how do you draw the line?

Back When I Was a Little Girl Football Commercials Were About Beer and Boobs, Not Babies

Is nothing sacred anymore?

With the exception of one Super Bowl in the 80s, I’ve generally looked at Super Bowl Sunday as an excuse to eat chips and watch the commercials. During the regular season, football commercials tend to bore me. I am not interested in drugs to treat ED, and nothing, not even watching boobs (the fake version on women as well as the foolish male version) will convince me that one beer is better than the other. Super Bowl Sunday ups the ante on the commercials by charging tons more for airtime. Over the years there have been some great commercials that often entertained more than the action on the field.

So imagine my surprise over the stink brewing over a commercial set to run featuring football darling Tim Tebow and his mother Pam Tebow. The link is thanks to a colleague, and I have to agree with him and the writer of the Washington Post column,  Sally Jenkins. You may fiercely disagree with the message of and the values (and pocketbook) behind the commercial, but as a woman I am a bit frustrated and disappointed.

Critics point to the pro-life message as being inappropriate. Really? You may disagree with it, but how is it inappropriate? The commercial is running during a game in which very strong, grown men tackle each other, sometimes to the point of injury, while boisterous fans, some in various stages of inebriated behavior, scream encouraging words using colorful language while grown women wear clothing small enough for small girls shake their pom poms in order to create team spirit. Yes, let’s talk about what is inappropriate and question where our values are.

And apparently there is a flurry of investigative reporting happening as well because questions are being raised about whether or not Pam Tebow’s story is true. (She got pregnant in 1987 while on a Christian mission in the Philippines and got sick. Doctors told her that the pregnancy was risky, but she chose to go through with the pregnancy.) Some headlines are declaring Tebow’s story a “falsehood”. Have those writers and critics taken a look at some of the boobs (male and female) out there? There is plenty of falsehood to go around. Buying expensive but really cool shoes won’t make you cool, but that falsehood is what sells those shoes. My goodness, advertising wants you to buy into a falsehood – if you buy this product you will be happier, more attractive, more successful, more this and that.

Apparently a few of the organizations taking issue with the Tebows and their commercial are launching their own response because the best response to an inappropriate commercial is to create another one? I never imagined Super Bowl Sunday would become part of the pro-life/pro-abortion conversation because when I was a little girl football was about the game, the beer and the boobs.

Solution? Suggestions? Should CBS pull the ad? Do you find the idea behind the commercial offensive and inappropriate? And do you really think the Saints will reign victorious?

Has LOST Left You Behind?

More Than Serving Tea readers, do you watch LOST?

My husband and I are big fans. We jumped into the show at the start of Season 2 and because of the convergence of several personal transitions/crisis/circumstances we chose to self-medicate by buying Season 1 on DVD and spending many nights getting know Sayid, Jin, Sun and Hurley. We currently own the entire series. After Season 6 comes out we will need a new idea for a Christmas gift to ourselves.

Our appreciation for the show has deepened as our investment in the characters and what they stand for has increased. Tuesday night there were 17 of us watching the show’s final season premiere at our home, complete with Dharma Initiative food and costumes. We had guest appearances by Hurley, Charlie, pregnant Claire, the Smoke Monster, Kate, Eloise Hawking and Workman.

Seventeen of us – half of the group traveled from the city out to the burbs – gathered for food and fun in the middle of the work week to hang out, watch a great show and talk during the commercial breaks. The group was a fun mix of people who wouldn’t have any other reason to get together except for the fact that they all know me and my husband and we all love LOST.

LOST has created a community, and for me that has meant an excuse to invite people into my home and therefore into my life to break bread, drink some Dharma wine, watch a show and get to know one another. More than a few people having seen photos of our past LOST parties on Facebook have half-jokingly, half-seriously said they would start watching the show just to come to our goofy parties.

I’ve talked to many people who are not interested in the show at all, but many of them have commented on this community around the show. There is a sense of being on the outside, left behind. I know at least two people who have invested A LOT of time catching up on five seasons in order to catch this final season at the start. Is it that the show is that good or the community is that convincing?

Do you watch? Why? Why not?

Leave a comment. Better yet, the person leaving the best comment (as determined best by me and maybe my husband) about why you love the show or why you don’t watch the show in a limerick, haiku or iambic pentameter will win their choice of  1.)Dharma Initiative chocolates, 2.) Dharma Initiative iron-on transfer or 3.) a copy of More Than Serving Tea.

P.S. Here is a great article about why another fan is a fan.

UPDATE: Sorry I neglected to include a deadline for my little contest. This morning at 12:45 a.m. CST, just a few hours before the earthquake, my husband and I declared Sara as the winner of our LOST contest. Her prize will be in the mail this week.

But if you feel the urge to rhyme and write an ode to our beloved show LOST, please do so. We love LOST around here. With or without tea.

Do You Exercise…Your Right to Vote?

February 2nd is the season premiere of my favorite show on network television.

It is also Election Day –  the reason why there has been so much hot air on the radio, tv spots with staged handshakes and conversations in cafes and automated “messages” from the candidates who really want to get to know my voicemail!

Unfortunately I did not become a US citizen in time to vote for the primaries so I will register to vote on Thursday and get ready for the next round. I’m excited and very new to the process as a voter. During my former life as a newspaper reporter I spent hours covering campaigns, and election day/night/early next morning was always a long, caffeinated, adrenaline-pumping or mind-numbing time. But I was definitely an observer, watching the process unfold and fascinated by the many choices people made or simply ignored.

The 15th Amendment gave African American men the right to vote. The 19th Amendment gave women of all races the right to vote.

But I know plenty of Americans out there who don’t exercise their right to vote. Are you jaded? Are you not casting a vote in defiance or protest? Are you lazy or indifferent? Why don’t you vote?

And then there are those of you who will be out there tomorrow staring at the ballot. What wins your vote or what makes you want to vote for the other candidate? What issues are closest to you? Do you vote straight party or do you go seat by seat?

And what tips would you give a newbie?

I am genuinely curious. For me, becoming an American, in part, has been an intentional decision to become more involved in the conversations and process. I may not make policy, but I want to be informed and inform policy-makers. Am I being naive and idealistic?

Whaddya Reading?

Do you love to read? I love to read. There isn’t enough time in the day to do all the things I want and need to get done, but I’ll squeeze in a few minutes each day to read. I’m old school;there is nothing quite like the feel of a book or the smell of newsprint to get my brain synapses started.

I’ll return to the likes of Jodi Piccoult this summer when spf 50 sunscreen and wide-brimmed hats return to my daily routine.

But I’ve hit the wall. I need fresh reading material.

Any suggestions?

Saying Goodbye to the Green Card – Goodbye

It’s final. I am naturalized citizen of the United States of America. I am an American – a Korean-American to be specific.

We filed in after having our identities checked against records and confirmed twice and then giving up our green cards. I wish federal law allowed me to snap a photo but we were in the foyer and not in the auditorium. There was something beautiful and poignant in that stack of green cards – so many stories to be told.

The ceremony was a mix of corny and genuine. The couple in front of me held hands and glanced several times at their 8-year-old-ish daughter who was presumably American-born and their photographer for the day. The couple and the woman to my right shed a few tears as 121 of us stood up as the names of the 44 countries we represented were called out. Lucky for them I always carry kleenex.

The immigration officer spoke about the sacrifices immigrants through the generations have made to make this country their adopted home – leaving behind lives to start anew, sometimes leaving behind everything for nothing more than hope.

My mind wandered a bit because I was eight months old when I left Seoul. I’m not sure what I left behind. The only story that tugs at my heart is that of my great-grandmother wandering the neighborhood, calling out for me long after we had left the country. I left her behind, and we never knew each other long enough to perhaps say a proper goodbye.

The ceremony also included recognizing the men and women currently serving in the armed forces, including the story of one man who was commended for his bravery and service in the Viet Nam War. Even before he was an American he fought for America.

Honestly, the well-scripted ceremony had me ready to pull out the kleenex for myself and then they played a music video complete with karaoke style lyrics of “I’m Proud to Be An American” on the three large screens. My apologies to those of you who love that song. Personally, it makes me cringe. The song rings a bit jingoistic, and if you’re going to showcase a song to welcome Americans let’s showcase the very best of what America has to offer. Or at the very least, play the national anthem recorded by a quality vocalist and orchestration. Ugh.

And before I knew it we were free to linger, take pictures by the stage or downstairs in the foyer  between the two flags, and leave the building as Americans. The security officer who had so humorously helped me and Peter through the security check-point congratulated me. We rushed off to pick up the kids from school after an equally rushed celebratory lunch – Portillo’s Chicago-style hot dogs.

As for my choice of proper attire, I dressed up. I paid way too much money to not take this day as a reason to dress up – a little black dress with a beautiful emerald green silk coat of my mother’s. She once told me that she had taken the fabric given to her by her in-laws as part of their wedding gift to her to have party dresses and matching coats made. She had imagined her life in America being full of parties and celebrations, but the dresses hung in her closet, dusty and unused.

I thought it appropriate that on the day I said goodbye to my green card I would wear my mother’s unused green party clothes to celebrate. Thank you, Mom and Dad for giving me your dreams, and thanks to all of you who joined me on this journey.

The Ultra-thin Pad

I still can’t believe that no one pulled the R & D folks at Apple aside and suggested a different name for the latest in the “i” family  – iPad.

I’ve seen several threads on friends’ FB pages and the Mad TV clip that predates the real iPad. One comment read “my mind didn’t even go in that direction”. I’m not sure what direction that would be, but my mind goes that direction every month. It’s called menstruation. Yes, every month until the good Lord and my hormones say enough is enough. Really? No one in the know at Apple played word association and made the connection? Does this point to the absence or type of influence women have over there in Apple land? What say you?

On the other hand, is it that big of a deal? So what if the ultra-thin iPad makes me and many other men and women think of a maxi pad. Surely they could have come up with a better, cooler name, but perhaps all of the nervous laughter and joking has less to do with associating a cool, sleek, over-priced techno toy with a feminine hygiene product than our culture’s inability to reconcile it’s obsession with sexuality and appropriate comfort with all things sexual, including menstruation and pads of all kinds.

What is Proper Attire For Becoming An American

This one is just for fun. Really. Fun.

At the bottom of my Form N-445, Notice of Naturalization Oath Ceremony is the following statement:

Proper attire should be worn

So, what do you think is proper attire? What would you wear if you were becoming an American citizen? Blue jeans – nice ones that look tailored? Jeggings, yay or nay? My hanbok might be over-the-top, right?

And yes, I will post a photo after the ceremony.

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