March 26 (Tu)
For whatever reason, I decided to take another stroll down memory lane.
I originally wanted to open the nice notes people wrote for my twentieth birthday, when I was fat and depressed from spending way too much time in a dysfunctional Christian club. Carolyn organized the whole thing (another reason why I am so blessed to have her in my life).
But I didn’t take very good care of them. If anything, I shoved them into my old prayer jar from freshman year, which I lost somewhere between moving back and forth between home and student housing.
Why? Some of the notes were from the usual suspects (Carolyn, Elly, and a few other allies in TCF)...and then some of them came from people who I clashed with. I don’t know why they wrote notes for me, even when I said things that hurt the core of their identities.
Was it forgiveness? Was it gratitude for who I was before I had said all these things?
Was it pity?
My depressed brain concluded the latter. So I shunted all the notes to the side, assuming they were all insincere. And now, they are lost. I will never get to remind myself of what they had written for me…
So I had no choice but to pull out the small paper bag of nice notes from LearningWorks, the teaching internship where I loved and learned so much. I also failed to self-regulate when it mattered most, resulting in broken relationships with multiple students and faculty members.
As you would expect, I shunted the notes to the side, keeping them in storage for when I was ready to read them. (Thankfully, those notes where ready when I needed them.)
One and a half years later, I’ve selected a few of the notes that I really appreciated:
Stefan: “I absolutely love the passion and unbounded energy you’ve brought here each and every day. Your performance as blake saul was incredible. You are such a natural leader and mentor; the students were so lucky to have you. :)”
Walter: “I loved your energy throughout the entire program (your paid actor was pretty good to…) I think we all really learned a lot, including things about you, which is why the top norms I’ve seen are cool to be you, cool to care, and cool to be smart! Loved this experience with you, have fun teaching!”
For the uninitiated: I was voluntold to join the All School Meeting committee, whose members had to don alter-egos (“paid actors”) to put on skits daily for all the kids. The premise was that we were a group of deadbeats TikTokers, and my character was a very obvious parody of Jake Paul. A Korean, redheaded, very acned version of Jake Paul who busted out taekwondo moves every so often.
On the last week, I decided to freestyle while everyone was filing into the auditorium. The kids loved it.
Elia: “You have such a sweet, caring soul and such great energy. I always appreciated the sweets you brought in - you’re a rly talented baker. Thanks for always checking in and being so supportive.”
Persephone: “You are a very nice energetic teacher and I love your energy in the classroom. Also, the brownies were so good! Thank you!”
Ainsley: “I really appreciated all the baked goods & Korean snacks! Your dedication to students with your thoughtful shout-outs.”
I’ve already written at length that I baked a whole lot of goodies that summer - some for the teaching fellows, and some for the kids (although I wasn’t supposed to). I’ll also add that in the interest of representing Asian America, I also shared a small bag of Chinese good luck candies and quite a few bags of Korean snacks. The Muslims couldn’t eat any of the Chinese candies (apparently gelatin is made from pigs), but the Korean snacks were a hit with everybody.
Cheameng: “You’ve been a fun and funny faculty member for this year so I hope for you to return =)”
Naia: “Thank you for always being super enthusiastic in Green Fam! Even when everyone else was feeling super glum, you cheered everyone up! I love the energy you bring! Keep Being You!”
Hamda: “I had lots of fun with you when we played Predator and Prey. I got to know you more and it was a good experience.”
Predator Prey 2022, supposedly the flagship event of Breakthrough Minneapolis at Blake, was a complete shitshow. Admin told me precious little of what I was supposed to do - I had no idea I was supposed to get water guns for the alumni or refreshments for the cool-down zone! And even then, I screwed up hard by randomly assigning two teachers with physical disabilities to highly mobile groups. They were not very happy with me.
By the end of the day, everyone (especially those who knew what Predator-Prey was supposed to be) was steamed at me. But whatever I did to train the Leadership Academy kids in presenting the rules to their peers worked, because the teaching fellows said that at least I did a good job with that. And quite a few people had fun.
I guess Predator-Prey wasn’t a total loss after all.
Elise: “Joviel Joseph… I had such a great time In leadership. You made the hard days better and always advocated for students. You made me and everyone else feel seen and heard. I hope you have a good rest of your summer and you have a bright future ahead!! Also ty for the brownie cookie things truly Amazing. Much love”
Elise was an interesting student to work with. She was part of a clique of three students who would play Pokemon Showdown during work time and talk smack about the teachers. After I led the “name and action” theatre game, she would mockingly call me “Jovial Joseph.” But things began to change after one of the field days, when I let Elise play with my LUMIX G7 camera while we were watching one of the games. She began to cheer loudly whenever she saw my “paid actor” on stage at ASM. By the time that she was munching on my home-baked brownies while filling out the feedback form that I was going to present to admin, “Jovial Joseph” had become a compliment.
Aniya: You are an amazing leadership teacher <3 and I like how you like to think positive all the time! You have a bright spirit around you, you’re also very chill! All your dance moves are so hyped and cool! Thank you for making my year a great year! Thank you for everything!
I’ve already written at length at how grateful I was to meet another Asian student in the midst of Minnesota’s Black-White binary, so I’ll end off with a personal note:
Aniya… I’m so grateful to have been your teacher, even if it was only for five weeks. I will be cheering for you. I will be praying for you. Go and do great things. 화이팅!!!
Reading these notes was a much-needed breath of air, especially before a long day of work. But unlike the last set of nice notes, this experience didn’t prompt as much introspection. I was just too fatigued, too immersed in a back-to-back schedule of eat-lift-work, to engage with myself and the Lord.
Even if it was Holy Week.
March 29 (Good Friday)
Today I fast to remember the occupied people of Palestine, especially Jesus of Nazareth.
I cannot hope to partake in their suffering, but I can at least deny my body in this small, small way. After having such a disorganized Lent with a rambling journey, it’s the least I can do.
My belly pangs at me, with only water to nourish it today. It will stay that way until 7:30pm, when all my meetings end. I did subconsciously pop a Mike and Ike jelly bean in my mouth, but that doesn’t really count, does it?
It’s almost 3pm, with only one of my four meetings done. I really don’t know how I’m going to stay regulated throughout the day, but that’s why I allowed myself as much water as I could drink.
Even though the Palestinians don’t even have that.
I am done allowing my cynicism to decide my thoughts and actions about Palestine. I am done allowing my autism to be an excuse to avoid denying myself and picking up my cross to follow Jesus. I am done doing nothing.
At this point, I was tired of not fasting, but I was also tired of fasting and not being able to make it through all forty days. But maybe, just maybe I had just enough discipline to make it through one day of fasting.
And before you go off on me for “internalized ableism” or some shit, there actually are autistic people who will weaponize their diagnosis to get out of doing work or justify being an asshole. One of those people was a former coworker.
While the rest of us were cleaning the entire campus for a big event, this dude was laying around on a sofa, playing fucking Geometry Dash. His excuse? He couldn’t clean food off the tables because of “sensory issues” or some shit.
I decided that enough was enough.
I gestured to myself. “Food.”
Then I shoved a cleaning wipe into his hands. “Table.”
I looked that fucker straight in the eye. “Got it?”
We were also supposed to dress up. While I and the other autistic coworker were toughing it out in our collared shirts and khaki pants, this little shit was still dressed in his program t-shirt and basketball shorts.
I get that sensory issues are a thing (they definitely are for me). But when the time comes for it, you need to rise to the occasion. You need to do everything in your power to do what needs to be done.
This Lent, I felt like I had failed to rise to the occasion. Just like I failed at my job. Just like I failed at LearningWorks.
So here I was, typing this little manifesto to hype myself for finally doing my Lenten duty and joining in Jesus’ sacrifice.
I find it funny that the Good Friday fast was mom’s idea, which she got from my childhood church. Last year, I decided not to do it, even though mom was so passive-aggressive about my refusal not to. This year, it’s the opposite: I’m the one who wants to fast, and mom doesn’t really care.
I find it funny that even though it is Good Friday, I am fasting for the Palestinians and not so much for Christ. I think the Palestinians are more motivating because they themselves are actually starving, getting SA’ed, getting bombed by drones. Jesus’ passion, however harrowing, was 2000 years ago.
I find it funny that the Catholic fast is supposed to last the entire day, ideally up to Easter Sunday. But…I don’t feel like lasting the entire day. And even the USCCB says that fasting should be practiced with common sense. Pregnant women, nursing women, people with physical/mental illnesses, and children should not fast.
Funny story: I struck up a conversation with Jenny about fasting on Good Friday, hoping to commiserate over our shared Lenten duty. Instead, I got a very different response:
“I could never do it,” she said, marveling at my resolve. “I love food too much.”
Note to self: never ask your boss for solidarity.
But today is Good Friday. So let’s focus on Jesus.
So I tried to focus on Jesus, writing down all the ways that Jesus faced suffering and oppression. But I just couldn’t find it within myself to care about Jesus’ story, much less relate to it. Maybe this excerpt gives some insight as to why:
Jesus knows what it is like to be crushed in the worst ways possible, but do the right thing anyway.
I can’t do that.
That makes me feel ashamed.
But I was at work. And I didn’t want to relive all the times when I did the wrong thing because I was dysregulated or ignorant or poorly socialized.
So instead of feeling my feelings, I focused on helping the kids with their grades and Congressional Award paperwork.
That night, I broke my fast with pad see ew from the local Thai restaurant and video sermon from Palestinian pastor Munther Isaac. The food was okay, and the sermon was okay. Nothing memorable.
But feeling okay is better than feeling like shit.
Do you have any observations or questions that you’d like to add? If so, let’s chat. Email me and we can get the conversation going.
As always: fight proud 📢, fight strong ✊, and fight on! 🗡️