Why Schools Don't Educate

It's been a week since school started. Been thinking a lot about what I want to do differently as I always do at the start of a new school year. Traveling around the world & coming up with an original opera with the kids have kept things interesting, but I wanted to bring more of my current interests into the classroom. So I decided to start a vege garden with my six-year-olds & together learn everything we can about how things grow. With our own class garden, I figured I could bring in nutrition, sustainability, environment, and community (cooperatives) into the curriculum... That is until I went to a meeting that made me want to quit teaching all together.

What was the meeting about? Test scores & No Child Left Behind. Don't even really want to get into what was discussed in the meeting, but I left with a bad taste in my mouth. No matter how creative I try to be in my classroom & no matter how supportive my Principal is with the things I do with the kids, it always comes down to the damn test scores. Believe me, my kids' scores are phenomenal with the exception of a few who are constantly pulled out to get "extra" help to drill phonics & number sense.

So why am I pissed? Because half the stuff I have to do is bullshit. If I could have it my way, I would do away with stupid tests which only measure the kids' ability to regurgitate what's been fed to them, and let the children spend the entire day exploring & hanging out. Instead of me dictating what they have to learn, I want them to ask questions, inquire, and learn on their own. (I try to do this the best I can, but it's almost impossible in a public school setting.)

Just finished reading a fantastic article about education (a must read) from my all time favorite magazine, the Sun. Want to quit teaching public schools, move out of Utah, and go to Oregon or Northern California to learn the Steiner method of teaching at the Waldorf school. Perhaps then I can meet fellow educators who understand what it really means to be a teacher.

The Future of Food

As you know, I write quite often about food... foods I grow, foods I make, foods I entertain with, and just my adoration for food in general. Well, I went to see Food Inc. last night. You must go see it, but I thought you might want to watch this for free here, first. It really makes you think about your food choices & what that choice means to the world we live in.
(Click on the image tab, and then click on the play button in the middle of the screen. I know you can't see it, but just move your mouse over. Might have to wait a bit.)

Fruits of My Labor

Swiss chard, cherry tomatoes, cucumber, and zucchinis.
Peppers, eggplants, green onion, and my Camino bonnet.

My garden salad.

Stone baked pizza w/ homemade rye dough.

Garden style scrambled w/ homemade wheat bread & fresh squeezed grapefruit juice.

My lovely yard...Thanks, Christy!

All that hard work in the spring has paid off, and I've started to enjoy the fruits of my labor. Okay, I had some help, but it still is my garden so it's only fair that I get all the credit. Not just me though, but the lucky SLC peeps who get invited over for my lovely dinner parties. (Can't get that word out of my vocabulary having spent all summer around the Irish.)

I've been busy entertaining since the beginning of the week, and it's only Wednesday. (3 more to go & I'll be done for the week...perhaps for this year.) Breakfast for my aunt on Monday was brilliant! (It's the Irish again...) Followed by afternoon drinks with Jeanette, and then Chris, Christy, Jack, and Hasen came over for some pizzas I baked on my never-used pizza stone. It really was quite lovely! (Wish had a brick oven though...anyone wanna build me one in my backyard?) Yesterday was spent entertaining a Swiss who made me feel like I was back on the Camino, and we even got in a lovely hike up to Lake Mary up Big Cottonwood Canyon. (Felt kind of weird walking without a heavy pack, though.) And tonight, I'm throwing a party for Jen's graduation & getting another use out of that fantastic pizza stone & my ice cream maker I got for Christmas which is still new in its box.

Wish my new Camino buddies were close by so they could partake in my end of summer soirees even though Super Hans may beg me to marry him again like he did the night I made dinner for a bunch of us in Arca do Pino. The only downside of all this entertaining is that my waistline is slowly increasing again. Perhaps I should just put a sack of rice inside my pack & start hiking everyday so I can eat whatever I want... like ice cream & chocolate on a daily basis.

Off to the backyard-farm to pick my veggies for my lunch guest before I start throwing some dough around for another round of pizzas tonight. I wonder if there's a Camino like walk in Italy...that really would be BRILLIANT!

Yet Another Planting Season

It's that time of the year again...weeding & planting time, that is. Once again, had to bring in help from California. This time, even had one from South Korea. Lucky for her, she was visiting my parents in LA, so when my mom & brother decided to visit me over the long weekend (Dad's out of the country at the moment) she got to experience the farm life in my back yard. I thought since she did come from my motherland, she'd be familiar with this farming stuff, but unfortunately, she grew up in the metropolitan city of Seoul all her life & never did step foot on a farm before coming to Sugarhouse...1934 S. View Street to be exact.

Since I had already done all my spring planting, all they had to do was weed. Remember that white flaky stuff that fell all over my yard last year... the ones I thought were so pretty, which eventually turned into little sprouting trees? Well, they returned with a force. They are everywhere. The Californians & the Korean tried their best to get it all off my beautifully landscaped yard, but it didn't work. They did however manage to pull the rest of the weeds which the kind Witch I hired from school didn't get to, (I have a helper in my class this year who's a genuine Witch & a master gardener!)

While I was overseeing the work that was being done in my front & back yard, I also thought of a brilliant idea for next spring. (This was my attempt at stopping the farm workers from crossing 2 state lines to come work in Utah from California.) I'm gonna get one of those huge nets they use in golf courses (or is it the driving range?) so the balls don't fly out of the area & hit people and cars nearby. Then I'm going to get Shane & Chris to put it over my house & let it slope on either side towards my neighbors' yards. (It's their junk trees that are spewing these seeds all over my yard & making me sneeze all spring until my nose is raw.) That will guarantee no drop-age on my yard, and crazy sprouting trees all over theirs. Hopefully that will get them to cut down those nasty suckers & plant some nice trees I'm not allergic to.

Anyway, I know I said that I learned from my experience last year that I was no farmer, and I probably should've stayed away from my little patch of farm this year; but I couldn't help it. I got caught up in the spirit of Spring. I caught the Spring Fever! I don't know what it's gonna look like in two months when I return from walking the Camino, but I'm hoping with the help of my generous friends who love me much, my yard will look as beautiful as it does today, if not more. I'll be thinking of all the lovely tomatoes while I trek through Spain.

Many thanks to my friends & family who helped me with this endeavor once again this spring. Many kisses!

The Junk Shop

I remember the first time I went to a thrift shop in San Francisco. I was visiting a friend of mine from college who had transferred to Berkley from San Diego. It was not too long after I had graduated, and I was still under the influence of my sorority existence. My friend, however, had long shed that skin and had transformed herself into a hippie.

She lived in this fabulously old, turn of the century house with bunch of pot smoking artists near Fillmore, and introduced me to the "dingy" second-hand stores of the upper Haight where all the tourists go to find hippies that no longer exist. (This was before Haight street became all posh with the dot.com boom.)

Anyway, I remember walking into these stores, and wanting to gag because it smelled like the homeless (or at least it seemed to me back then.) I couldn't believe my friend was trying on stuff someone else had worn before (a complete stranger, to boot). I didn't want to come off as a sorority snob, so I tried on a few items myself while cringing inside & holding my breath as best I could. But that was as far as I went. There was no way in hell I was gonna buy anything, and I'm sure I was dying to shower, even though I can't really remember what I did next.

The reason I'm writing about this is because my mom just called me telling me she went to the Goodwill store. (That's the California version of DI for those of you in Utah.) I had discovered the store somewhat near my parents' place while visiting them two weeks ago. I ended up purchasing an awesome butcher block for $25, which I'm going to go get over my spring break. I told my mom all about finding goodies at thrift shops, and told her she should go check it out. Didn't think she would, but she apparently ventured into the store because she happened to be driving by.

"I don't know what I was expecting, but I can't believe you found that butcher block there. It was full of junk!" She said.
"You have to look carefully, Mom. You really didn't see anything?" I asked.
"No." A pause, then she said, "I drove home & washed my hands with anti-bacterial soap."

I laughed. I knew exactly how she felt, but she would die to know that she's drank out of second hand glasses at my house. Heehee!

It took me over a decade, but I love thrift shops now. Not only because you can find such cheap, cool finds, but think of all the reusing we're doing as consumers. Instead of constantly buying brand new things which not only depletes the natural resources but are usually made in China by slave waged workers, we can buy used items that would've ended up in the landfill if it weren't for thrift shops. It's an environmental miracle.

Anyway, I can't believe I used to think it was gross buying stuff others had owned before. Don't ask me why... you're speaking to someone who would give clothes away if someone borrowed it. You don't have to return it, just keep it. Or, sure you can have a sip of my drink. Actually, why don't you just have the whole thing. I was definitely a germophobic.

But after living in San Francisco & New York, and having really smelled homeless people (which you really can't in LA or SD because you're always in your car), I realize now that scent I smelled back then in that thrift store was probably all in my head. I don't smell anything in thrift shops anymore, and I simply adore second hand shopping.

Finding My Roots

It's been two months of pure bliss (in misery). Only in misery because the weather's been so cold. But a bliss because I've been able to do what I love the most. Eat, eat, eat, and read, read, read. I've been hibernating for the last two months, and loving every minute of it. It's the Cancer in me, I think. I love to retreat & hide from the world for a bit because I need to recoup for the warm weather when the crazy Monkey side in me comes out to play. (I was born in the year of the monkey.)

I've also reconnected with my family & my Korean roots, and am falling in love with all these hot Korean actors. My Korean is getting really good with all the Korean shows I'm watching, and even the content of my fridge is slowly changing to resemble my parents'. I've even started corresponding more with friends and family back in Seoul, and visiting LA frequently to see Mom & Dad.

I don't know what it all means, but I think I'm finally wanting to balance the two cultures for the first time in my life, it seems. The Korean & American cultures are so different in so many ways, (it's no wonder I've always been in constant battle with my folks) yet I want to figure out a way to mesh the two somehow.

I've always gone in far extremes, such as moving back to Korea in my early twenties to become "Korean", only to realize I couldn't live in that society after growing up in the States. There were too many rules: who to associate with (social class), who to speak & not speak to in a honorary form, what I could & not do having been born a female...seriously, too many archaic things to list all here. Plus I got tired of people asking where I was from.

Then of course there were periods in my life where I was called a banana because I was so "white", whatever that means. Just because I hung out with white folks, I was excluded by the Koreans. It's like no matter where I went, people still asked me where I was from. So I ended up just surrounding myself with people whom I could relate to the most, and through circumstances, I've become virtually the only non-white person in a group of white friends.

Not that color matters, but there's definitely something to be said about having come from such a strong culture. I think that's why so many people do stay in their own groups. Not just race, but even religion, like the Mormons here. It's like you understand each other without having to explain. Anyway, I hear there are many Koreans in SLC. Perhaps I should start hanging out at the Korean market to bring some Koreans into my life. It might be fun to mix up the race a little in my group of friends, you know, balance it out a bit so it's not all white (and me).

My friends all love Asian food (especially Chris)...don't know why we don't have more Asian friends in our group so we can eat some more homemade Asian food like we did Friday night. (I know, my stories always do come back to food.) The Thai food we had at Jessica's birthday party was to die for. Following a recipe is never the same as the real stuff made by someone from that culture.

(What do you say, Chris...we should go hang out on the West side & meet some Southeast Asians.)

Christmas has to be my favorite time of the year. It's my most adored holiday, and I love finding that perfect gift for the people I cherish the most. Intellectually, I know it's not about presents, but I can't help but get excited about finding gifts. Plus, I give money to needy children every month (not just during the holidays), so I tend to not have the guilt about spending some money on family & friends once a year.

I also love decorating the tree, and thank god each year that I was raised in a Christian household. (Sadly, that's the only time I'm thankful about being a Catholic...oh well.) My friends always make fun of the tree I select each year as they all agree it looks like Charlie Brown's Christmas tree, but I don't care. That's the kind of tree I adore.

One of the reasons why I can't get myself to leave SLC is that it snows here every Christmas. The snow here is fluffy, just like the ones you see in the movies or read about in books. It's gorgeous here when it snows, and trekking snow into the Cathedral of Madeline for the midnight mass is an enchanting experience. The children's choir sings like angels, and to experience that with my family is a tradition I hope will continue, always.

Boulangerie Chez Moi

(Click on the photos for a better view.)

Cassie said she & Chris drove to a Chinese restaurant down south (not The South, but south of SLC) and saw an Asian bakery. Apparently, Chris said, "I didn't know Asians baked?!" to which Cassie replied, "Yeah, Rachel bakes all the time!"

Yes, I've found another hobby. I've been baking like crazy. People ask me where I've been hiding myself, but I haven't really been hiding. It's just that I've been busy with my oven the last month or so. (Hence the lag in my posts.) As you probably know by now, once I get involved with something, I obsess until I get bored. (Unfortunately, that's what's happened to my hat making in case you were wondering where yours is.)

Anyway, I've stopped using the bread machine, and have actually started making my breads by hand. It's really fun, and so good. (Just had some folks over for some homemade bread & soup on Monday.) I've also made this killer pear pie, only my second in my entire life, but it turned out beautifully...not too sweet with the perfect crust. And I also baked three cakes in the last month. So yummy, I can't wait to come home from work every day.

The problem is, I've added dessert to all the food I've been making, (read my last post) and my mirror is screaming, "Stop! Get a hold of yourself!" So I'm afraid my baking will have to come to a halt at the end of this month. (Plus, my gym just went out of business...damn Bally's!)

Welcome to America!

Most of you know that I wasn't born in the States. My family moved here when I was ten, and with the move, I gained an eating disorder along with a new culture & a new language. You see, an eating disorder is not something you commonly find in a third-world country like my motherland; it happens to folks who have way more food than they know what to do with.

Let's just say that in trying to acclimate to the new culture, our family dove right in & began frequenting fast food restaurants as soon as we discovered all those fabulous drive-ins. What did my parents know about fast foods other than that a family of four on a budget (my dad didn't work for the first two years...we were living off of savings as he was here to study full time & well, my mom really had no skills other than shopping,) could eat at McDonald's for oh, I don't know, perhaps $5 back in the day?

Not only could we eat real meat for that cheap (red meat was very expensive in Korea back then...before they opened the doors to American cows which are imported real cheap, killing the Korean ranchers...but let's save that for another post ), but every time we went there, they gave us these little game pieces which we would lick & glue to the game sheet. It was called the Million $ Match 'n Win & it promised a million dollars & other cool prizes if we were able to match the game pieces. The only thing was, no matter how often we'd eat a big-mac at McD's, we could never get that one G-damn piece that promised us a cool Mil.

What did we know, we were immigrants?! We were fresh off the boat, and we thought, what an amazing country- not only do they sell inexpensive, delicious meals, but they also wanna give away money for frequenting their restaurants! My mom would call her best friend who had also immigrated not too long after we had, and tell her to go to McD's. She thought that maybe the missing game piece was in Chicago. They made a pact they'd split the winnings if either one of them won with the missing pieces they were going to swap. What suckers we were...

Anyway, back to my eating disorder... You've all seen Supersize Me, right? Well, imagine a ten year old kid who's never had fast food in her life, suddenly eating McDonald's every week plus that ever so healthy school lunch 5 days a week. You guessed it, I became a little porker. My parents, having no sense of what a high fat diet & soda (also something I never drank until moving here) could have on a child, just thought I was eating too much, and literally wouldn't let me drink water at one point thinking drinking too much water was also adding to my obesity. (Alright, not obese in the way Americans get big, since that would be scary for a little Korean girl, but pretty fat for a ten year old Asian.)

What they didn't know is that I was also buying KitKat every day at school with my left over lunch money. Everyone else was buying candy, and I wanted to fit in; so even though I was not a huge chocolate fan, I bought & ate this crunchy, chocolate covered wafers (the least disgusting of the bunch) not realizing it was also adding to my fat quotient. So My parents & I fought over my weight for 2-3 years.

Then I turned thirteen, and looked in the mirror one day and saw a fat, Asian girl staring back at me. I don't know how this happened...maybe I discovered boys for the first time, but probably more because my parents moved me to San Fernando Valley from Los Angeles proper. It was right around the time Valley Girl, the movie & song came out. Once again, with the pressure to fit in & realizing that to be a Valley Girl I had to be skinny & highly fashionable, I did what everyone else was doing those days- starving myself. I still remember having fights with my mom in Jr. High, not about eating too much now, but not eating enough. (I swear, I could never please that woman.) She'd bring in a tray of food to my room trying to force feed me, and I'd just throw the whole tray down, refusing to eat. (No, I never was anorexic, just lost enough to be plump, rather than fat.)

Anyway, let's just say, I've been struggling with my weight ever since. I don't remember having a stomach since those McD years, as I learned to manage my eating pretty well. I'd eat like mad for days, and starve for days. There were a few years in college when I did put my finger down my throat here & there (I know, it's real disgusting) but not sure if it was just from my binge eating or binge drinking. Could've been the binge drinking as what I discovered was that if I made myself throw up before crashing, I didn't have a hangover the following morning. (I know, real dumb, but hey, I was 18 & away from home for the first time. At least I wasn't snorting coke like everyone else those days even though everyone said it was the best diet drug.) But unfortunately, the stomach from the early years have returned. Not because of fast foods, (I know better now, and I also read Fast Food Nation.) but because I've all of sudden discovered how nice it is to pamper myself.

I've spent many years entertaining friends spending lots of money & many hours cooking fabulous meals for their enjoyment all the while eating cereal when alone. Depending on the boyfriend, I'd cook for him & share decent meals with him; but as of late, since that department's been kinda non-existent, I'd find myself only cooking when friends were over. But for some reason when summer ended, I decided it was time that I pamper myself by cooking for me each night. Not because anyone was coming over, but because I deserved a great meal just for me.

Unfortunately, however, I've gained a spare tire around my waist in the last few months (I've never weighed 120 in my life!) It's really sad, and I keep thinking I need to start my diet method from Jr. High, but I'm older & wiser to know that's a bad solution. But what do I do? I must do something 'cause I think the extra weight is causing my back pain; and because of it, I've been lagging on my yoga workout. People think I'm crazy when I tell them I've gained a lot of weight, but I know they're just being nice...or is this my thirteen year-old self with the eating disorder talking right now. The crazy thing is, just a few weeks ago when I went to visit family in LA, my brother complimented me on my looks! (I know many of you don't even know I have a brother since I never talk about him, but he does exist.) He never compliments me, and he said I look a lot better now than I did last Christmas, meaning he likes the weight gain.

I don't know what to do. Perhaps I should start sharing food with friends again, more frequently, and stop making yummy desserts every night. Or perhaps there's no cure for what McD's has done to me, and I should go sue them & get liposuction.

I'll keep you all posted on my decision.

(And sorry for the lag in posts...I've been busy cooking & stuffing my face!)