Tuesday, 27 April 2010
Monday, 26 April 2010
Sunday, 25 April 2010
Thursday, 22 April 2010
Inside a Chinese Immersion School
These kids put me to shame. While in high school, I actually got a "D" in Mandarin. I switched to Spanish after that.
Monday, 19 April 2010
Thursday, 15 April 2010
Tuesday, 13 April 2010
Life Lessons - Conclusion
By Mojo Rider
The last installment of Lt. Col. Guy LoFaro's speech:
LEADERSHIP
And then it's months later and you're still recovering. Most of the tubes are gone but it's time for another round of major surgeries. And you go into one of the last, this one about 9 hours long. And they put you back together. And you wake up in the ICU one more time. Only one IV this time. And when you open your eyes, there's a huge figure standing over your bed. BDUs. Green beret in his hand. Bigger than God. And he's smiling. "It's about damn time you woke up you lazy bastard" he says. And you know it's your friend and former commander and you've got to come back with something quick - something good. He's the deputy Delta Force commander, soon to be the commander. And you say "Don't you have someplace else to be? Don't you have something more important to do?" And without skipping a beat, without losing that smile he says "Right now, I am doing what I consider the most important thing in the world." And you learn about leadership.
So there you have them. Some stories. I've tried to let you see the world as I've seen it a various points in time these 18 years. I hope you've learned something. I certainly have. "Rangers, lead the way!"
I posted this speech as food for thought. There's a saying that goes, "Life is tough, but it's tougher if you're stupid." If you're smart, have a sense of awareness, I hope the dear reader gets something out of this and can maybe apply some of this to his or her life or workplace. At the very least, I hope it gives pause, that the reader stops to reflect and ask, "what kind of life am I leading? what kind of person do I want to be?"
All these things talked about by LoFaro, they all blend together: leadership, friendship and camaraderie, loyalty, compassion. You can't provide leadership if there is no camaraderie; there is no camaraderie if there is no friendship; there is no friendship if there is no loyalty or compassion.
You can't change people a lot of the times; you have to change your response to them, how you deal with them. You might not even change the workplace environment you're in if you're a middle manager, but if you lead by example and exhibit the qualities of friendship and teamwork to your co-workers, it might make the culture a little bit better. Not everyone will be on your side or reciprocate the loyalty; but those you do get on your side, if you know how to motivate them and keep morale up, they'll run thru a brick wall for you.
The last installment of Lt. Col. Guy LoFaro's speech:
LEADERSHIP
And then it's months later and you're still recovering. Most of the tubes are gone but it's time for another round of major surgeries. And you go into one of the last, this one about 9 hours long. And they put you back together. And you wake up in the ICU one more time. Only one IV this time. And when you open your eyes, there's a huge figure standing over your bed. BDUs. Green beret in his hand. Bigger than God. And he's smiling. "It's about damn time you woke up you lazy bastard" he says. And you know it's your friend and former commander and you've got to come back with something quick - something good. He's the deputy Delta Force commander, soon to be the commander. And you say "Don't you have someplace else to be? Don't you have something more important to do?" And without skipping a beat, without losing that smile he says "Right now, I am doing what I consider the most important thing in the world." And you learn about leadership.
So there you have them. Some stories. I've tried to let you see the world as I've seen it a various points in time these 18 years. I hope you've learned something. I certainly have. "Rangers, lead the way!"
I posted this speech as food for thought. There's a saying that goes, "Life is tough, but it's tougher if you're stupid." If you're smart, have a sense of awareness, I hope the dear reader gets something out of this and can maybe apply some of this to his or her life or workplace. At the very least, I hope it gives pause, that the reader stops to reflect and ask, "what kind of life am I leading? what kind of person do I want to be?"
All these things talked about by LoFaro, they all blend together: leadership, friendship and camaraderie, loyalty, compassion. You can't provide leadership if there is no camaraderie; there is no camaraderie if there is no friendship; there is no friendship if there is no loyalty or compassion.
You can't change people a lot of the times; you have to change your response to them, how you deal with them. You might not even change the workplace environment you're in if you're a middle manager, but if you lead by example and exhibit the qualities of friendship and teamwork to your co-workers, it might make the culture a little bit better. Not everyone will be on your side or reciprocate the loyalty; but those you do get on your side, if you know how to motivate them and keep morale up, they'll run thru a brick wall for you.
Monday, 12 April 2010
Life Lessons Part 4 & 5 - Creed and Compassion
By Mojo Rider
Another installment of Lt. Col. Guy LoFaro's speech at the US Military Academy:
The VALUE OF A CREED
Lesson Four
And then you're a major and you're back in the 82d - your home. And one day some SOB having a bad week decides it's time to take it out on the world and he shoots up a PT formation. Takes out 20 guys. You're one of them. A 5.56 tracer round right to the gut. Range about 10 meters. And you're dead for a little while, but it's not your time yet - there are still too many lessons to learn.
And you wake up after five surgeries and 45 days in a coma. And you look down at your body and you don't recognize it - it has become a receptacle for hospital tubing and electronic monitoring devices. You have a tracheotomy, so there's a huge tube going down your throat and you can't talk, but that thing is making sure you breathe. And there's a tube in your nose that goes down into your stomach - that's how you eat. And there are four IVs - one in each arm and two in the veins in the top of your feet. There is a tube through your right clavicle - that's where they inject the high-powered antibiotics that turns your hair white and makes you see things. But disease is the enemy now and it's gotta be done.
And there are three tubes emerging from three separate holes in your stomach.They are there to drain the liquids from your stomach cavity. It drains into some bags hanging on the side of your bed. And they've shaved your chest and attached countless electrodes to monitor your heartbeat, blood pressure, and anything else they can measure. They have these things stuck all over your head as well, and on your wrists and ankles.
And your family gathers around, and they are like rocks, and they pull you through. But there's also a guy, dressed in BDUs, with a maroon beret in his hand, who stands quietly in the corner. Never says anything. Just smiles. And looks at you. He's there every day. Not every hour of every day, but he comes every day. Sometimes he's there when you wake up. Sometimes he's there when you go to sleep. He comes during his lunch break. He stays an hour, or two or three. And just stands in the corner. And smiles. No one told him to be there.
But he made it his place of duty. His guard post. You see, it's your Sergeant Major, and his Ranger buddy is down, and a Ranger never leaves a fallen comrade. And you learn, through this man, the value of a creed.
Part Five
COMPASSION
And every four hours two huge male nurses come in and gently roll you on your side. The bullet exited through your left buttock and made a hole the size of a softball. The bandages need to be changed. Take the soiled wads out and put clean ones in. And a second lieutenant comes in. She seems to be there all the time. She's the one changing the bandages. And it hurts like hell, but she, too, is smiling, and talking to you, and she's gentle.
And you know you've seen her before, but you can't talk - you still have that tube in your throat. But she knows. And she tells you that you taught her Military Art History, that now it's her turn to take care of you, that she's in charge of you and the team of nurses assigned to you, and she won't let you down. And you learn about compassion.
From other internet postings about LoFaro, he was almost fatally injured in a shooting at Fort Bragg in 1995. http://edition.cnn.com/US/9510/sniper/am/index.html
A lot of times, you might hear what is taken as platitudes or cliches. But if it's put into practice, it becomes an ideal. Again, it might be much different trying to follow a corporate slogan if you're in the private sector. But there are ideals that maybe corporations should really cultivate as part of their culture. Things like dedication, integrity, honesty.
Another installment of Lt. Col. Guy LoFaro's speech at the US Military Academy:
The VALUE OF A CREED
Lesson Four
And then you're a major and you're back in the 82d - your home. And one day some SOB having a bad week decides it's time to take it out on the world and he shoots up a PT formation. Takes out 20 guys. You're one of them. A 5.56 tracer round right to the gut. Range about 10 meters. And you're dead for a little while, but it's not your time yet - there are still too many lessons to learn.
And you wake up after five surgeries and 45 days in a coma. And you look down at your body and you don't recognize it - it has become a receptacle for hospital tubing and electronic monitoring devices. You have a tracheotomy, so there's a huge tube going down your throat and you can't talk, but that thing is making sure you breathe. And there's a tube in your nose that goes down into your stomach - that's how you eat. And there are four IVs - one in each arm and two in the veins in the top of your feet. There is a tube through your right clavicle - that's where they inject the high-powered antibiotics that turns your hair white and makes you see things. But disease is the enemy now and it's gotta be done.
And there are three tubes emerging from three separate holes in your stomach.They are there to drain the liquids from your stomach cavity. It drains into some bags hanging on the side of your bed. And they've shaved your chest and attached countless electrodes to monitor your heartbeat, blood pressure, and anything else they can measure. They have these things stuck all over your head as well, and on your wrists and ankles.
And your family gathers around, and they are like rocks, and they pull you through. But there's also a guy, dressed in BDUs, with a maroon beret in his hand, who stands quietly in the corner. Never says anything. Just smiles. And looks at you. He's there every day. Not every hour of every day, but he comes every day. Sometimes he's there when you wake up. Sometimes he's there when you go to sleep. He comes during his lunch break. He stays an hour, or two or three. And just stands in the corner. And smiles. No one told him to be there.
But he made it his place of duty. His guard post. You see, it's your Sergeant Major, and his Ranger buddy is down, and a Ranger never leaves a fallen comrade. And you learn, through this man, the value of a creed.
Part Five
COMPASSION
And every four hours two huge male nurses come in and gently roll you on your side. The bullet exited through your left buttock and made a hole the size of a softball. The bandages need to be changed. Take the soiled wads out and put clean ones in. And a second lieutenant comes in. She seems to be there all the time. She's the one changing the bandages. And it hurts like hell, but she, too, is smiling, and talking to you, and she's gentle.
And you know you've seen her before, but you can't talk - you still have that tube in your throat. But she knows. And she tells you that you taught her Military Art History, that now it's her turn to take care of you, that she's in charge of you and the team of nurses assigned to you, and she won't let you down. And you learn about compassion.
From other internet postings about LoFaro, he was almost fatally injured in a shooting at Fort Bragg in 1995. http://edition.cnn.com/US/9510/sniper/am/index.html
A lot of times, you might hear what is taken as platitudes or cliches. But if it's put into practice, it becomes an ideal. Again, it might be much different trying to follow a corporate slogan if you're in the private sector. But there are ideals that maybe corporations should really cultivate as part of their culture. Things like dedication, integrity, honesty.
Friday, 9 April 2010
Slanted, The Web Series
The trials and tribulations of an Asian American actress. Perfect material for a comedy.
Life Lessons Part 3 - Grief
By Mojo Rider
This is part three of Lt. Col. Guy LoFaro's speech at the US Military Academy.
GRIEF
It's a few years later and you've already had your company command. You're in grad school, studying at Michigan. You get a phone call one night, one of the sergeants from your company. He tells you Harvey Moore is dead, killed in a training accident when his Blackhawk flew into the ground.
Harvey Moore. Two-time winner of the Best Ranger Competition. Great soldier. Got drunk one night after his wife left him and took his son. You see, staff sergeants don't make as much money as lawyers, so she left with the lawyer. He got stinking drunk, though it didn't take much since he didn't drink at all before this, and got into his car.
Then had an accident. Then got a DUI. He was an E-6 promotable when this happened, and the SOP was a general-officer Article 15 and a reduction one grade, which would really be two for him because he was on the promotion list.
But Harvey Moore is a good soldier, and it's time to go to bat for a guy who, if your company command was any sort of a success, played a significant part in making it so. And you go with your battalion commander to see the CG, and you stand at attention in front of the CG's desk for 20 minutes convincing him that Harvey Moore deserves a break. You win. Harvey Moore never drinks again. He makes E-7.
And when you change command, he grabs your arm, with tears in his eyes, and thanks you for all you've done. Then the phone call. And you learn about grief.
This is a tough one but it's something we all share in as part of the human experience. There's no getting around this as we all are confronted with losing family, friends, and loved ones. I lost a childhood friend when I was 18 and I was in such shock and denial that I didn't attend the funeral. It was only later, months later did I break down and finally weep for my friend. And since then, I've been to far too many funerals than weddings. It's never easy but at least you know what to expect, going thru the rituals of saying goodbye and celebrating a life.
This is part three of Lt. Col. Guy LoFaro's speech at the US Military Academy.
GRIEF
It's a few years later and you've already had your company command. You're in grad school, studying at Michigan. You get a phone call one night, one of the sergeants from your company. He tells you Harvey Moore is dead, killed in a training accident when his Blackhawk flew into the ground.
Harvey Moore. Two-time winner of the Best Ranger Competition. Great soldier. Got drunk one night after his wife left him and took his son. You see, staff sergeants don't make as much money as lawyers, so she left with the lawyer. He got stinking drunk, though it didn't take much since he didn't drink at all before this, and got into his car.
Then had an accident. Then got a DUI. He was an E-6 promotable when this happened, and the SOP was a general-officer Article 15 and a reduction one grade, which would really be two for him because he was on the promotion list.
But Harvey Moore is a good soldier, and it's time to go to bat for a guy who, if your company command was any sort of a success, played a significant part in making it so. And you go with your battalion commander to see the CG, and you stand at attention in front of the CG's desk for 20 minutes convincing him that Harvey Moore deserves a break. You win. Harvey Moore never drinks again. He makes E-7.
And when you change command, he grabs your arm, with tears in his eyes, and thanks you for all you've done. Then the phone call. And you learn about grief.
This is a tough one but it's something we all share in as part of the human experience. There's no getting around this as we all are confronted with losing family, friends, and loved ones. I lost a childhood friend when I was 18 and I was in such shock and denial that I didn't attend the funeral. It was only later, months later did I break down and finally weep for my friend. And since then, I've been to far too many funerals than weddings. It's never easy but at least you know what to expect, going thru the rituals of saying goodbye and celebrating a life.
Thursday, 8 April 2010
On Leadership: Dartmouth College President Jim Yong Kim
The above video is some good advice from Dartmouth College President Jim Yong Kim, which is similar to the advice I give: Develop an Asian American Consciousness and Be Damn Good at Something.
I once had a relevant email correspondance with Will of Better Asian Man. I told him how I enjoyed the Fallout Central podcasts and that I was sad to see Fallout Central go.
For those of you who don't know, Fallout Central was a site that featured podcasts on Asian American issues, current events and interviews with AA celebs and activists. They were a crew of four that came out with a professional and informative series of podcasts during their site's 2-3 year period. Here's what Will had to say about the demise of Fallout:
I hear what you're saying regarding the void on the internet, and I believe that this has to do with the CNN-style of news reporting that we did with regards to Asian American news. We have an assortment of blogs that report on what each respective blog author thinks is important, but none of them have quite the same edge.
For example, Angry Asian Man doesn't really report on news, his take is basically "here's something that happened ..." and every now and then he'll say "that's racist!" Then there's 8Asians, which provides a similar vibe. Between the two of them, there are also a number of things that aren't really news, such as recent sightings of random asian people in Microsoft Windows 7 advertisements. Plus, they don't do podcasts, they don't actively go out and research the incidents (the people surrounding the given incident, the neighborhood, and other pertinent background), and they don't do it in a live talk show format with multiple commentators. Being that that's what we were doing, you could imagine how much work that was. And I gotta tell you, that was exhausting work. I'm glad we did it, because I really learned a lot of things about research, reporting, and radio show production (I also gained extensive knowledge on audio recording equipment).
But for all that effort, I gotta tell you that the reach was miniscule compared to the reach that I have now with the Better Asian Man podcast. I posted some statistics on my website yesterday, and they are unbelievable. The first year of operation, 2008, was actually only 7/12 of a year, but even if you doubled those numbers, it's not even close to the number of podcast downloads in 2009, which was over 26,500 downloads. It's insane. The fallout central podcast was downloaded about 10 times per week, and usually less.
If there ever was a way to reach a captive audience of Asian American men, ages 18 - 35, I would find it hard to believe that any other website is can do it more effectively than me. Now, I am sure that Angry Asian Man has more than 10 times the website visitors than I do, but considering that it actually takes 100% of a person's attention span to listen to a podcast talk show, and considering that there were so many downloads in this past year, there is no question that the Better Asian Man podcast has a MUCH wider reach into the Asian American community than the Fallout Central podcast ever did in the time that it was running, which I think was 2.5 years-- maybe 3 years.
That said, if you know anyone who wants to spend the time to do interviews, or do Asian American news reporting, feel free to give them my contact information (email, cell phone, facebook), and I'd be happy to let them run the "Asian American Stuff" podcast segment. 'cuz pickup or no pickup, social stigma or no social stigma, the Better Asian Man podcast is the definitive means of reaching a captive Asian American male audience in a live talk show format that provides for live listener dial-in participation.
Identity politics is good, but when it comes right down to it, if you want to help people, then you have to address and fufill a need, whether perceived or real. This applies to business and to activism.
Life Lessons Part 2 - Courage, Friendship, Camraderie
By Mojo Rider
What follows is part two of life lessons and the shared experiences of Lt. Col. Guy Lofaro who gave this speech at the US Military Academy.
THE BURDEN OF COMMAND, COURAGE, FRIENDSHIP, CAMRADERIE
It's a few months later, and you are one of two soldiers left on a hot PZ (pick up zone) on some Caribbean island. There's been another foul up - not yours this time, but you're going to pay for it. It's you and your RTO (radio telephone operator), a nineteen-year-old surfer from Florida who can quote Shakespeare, because his Mom was a high school literature teacher, and who joined the Army because his Dad was a World War II Ranger. The last UH-60 has taken off on an air assault and someone is supposed to come back and get you guys.
But the fire is getting heavy, and you're not sure anything can get down there without getting shot up. You're taking fire from some heavily forested hills. At least two machineguns, maybe three, maybe more, and quite a few AKs, but you can't make out anything else. You and your RTO are in a hole, hunkered down as the bad guys are peppering your hole with small arms fire. Your RTO is trying to get some help - another bird to come get you, some artillery, some attack helicopters - anything. But there are other firefights happening elsewhere on this island involving much larger numbers. So as the cosmos unfold at that particular moment, in that particular place, you and that RTO are well down the order of merit list.
You feel a tug at your pants leg. Ketch, that's what you call him, Ketch tells you he got a "wait, out" when he asked for help. The radio is jammed with calls for fire and requests for support from other parts of the island.
"What we gonna do, sir?" he asks. And all of a sudden, you're learning another lesson. You're learning about the weightiness of command, because it's not just you in that hole, it's this kid you've spent every day with for the last five months. This kid you've come to love like a kid brother.
There is only one way out and that's through the bad guys. You see, you are on a peninsula that rises about 100 feet from the sea. The inland side is where the bad guys are. You figure you are safe in this hole, so long as they don't bring in any indirect fire stuff, but if they come down off those hills, onto the peninsula, then you're going to have to fight it out. And that's what you tell your RTO: We either get help or, if the bad guys come for us, we fight. He looks at you. You don't know how long. And he says only four words. Two sentences.
"Roger, sir. Let's rock." Appropriate coming from a surfer. Then he slithers back down to the bottom of the hole. Staying on the radio, your lifeline, trying to get some help. You are peering over the edge of the hole, careful not to make too big a target.
You're thinking about your wife and that little month-old baby you left a few days ago. It was two o'clock in the morning when you got the call: "Pack your gear and get in here." You kissed them both and told them to watch the news. Hell, you didn't know where you were going or why, but you were told to go, and you went.
Then all of a sudden it gets real loud, and things are flying all around and then there's a shadow that passes over you. You look up and find yourself staring at the bottom of a Blackhawk, about 15 feet over the deck, flying fast and low, and as it passes over your hole you see the door gunner dealing death and destruction on the bad guys in those hills. It sets down about 25 meters from your hole, as close as it can get.
You look up and see the crew chief kneeling inside, waving frantically to you, the door gunner still dealing with it, trying to keep the bad guys' heads down, who have now switched their fire to the bird, a much bigger, and better, target. You look at Ketch and then you're off - and you run 25 meters faster than 25 meters have ever been run since humans began to walk upright. And you dive through the open doors onto the floor of the Blackhawk. There are no seats in the bird since this is combat and we don't use them in the real deal.
And you are hugging your RTO, face-to-face, like a lover, and shouting at him "You OKAY? You OKAY? You OKAY?" But he doesn't tell you he's OKAY since he's yelling the same thing at you - "You OKAY? You OKAY? You OKAY?" And then the pilot pulls pitch and executes a violent and steep ascent out of there and had you not been holding on to the d-rings in the floor and the crew chief not been holding your legs, you might have fallen out. Then you're over the water, you're safe, and the bird levels out, and you roll over to your back and close your eyes - and you think you fall asleep.
But then you feel a hand on your blouse, and you open your eyes and see the crew chief kneeling over you with a headset in his hand. He wants you to put it on so you do. And the first thing you hear is, "I-Beamer, buddy boy. I Beamer."' You were in I-4 while a cadet, and that was your rallying cry. And you look up to where the pilots sit and you see a head sticking out from behind one of the seats. He's looking at you and it's his voice you hear, but you can't make out who it is because his visor is down. Then he lifts it, and you see the face of a man who was two years ahead of you in your company. He tells you that he knew you were there and he wasn't going to leave an I-Beamer like that. And you learn about courage, and camaraderie. And friendship that never dies!
As managers or people going into management positions, I think it's important to remember that sometimes you'll be faced with making decisions that impact people's lives. Don't make decisions without thinking things through. Most people aren't in those positions where it's a life-and-death decision that has to be made, but you might be faced with making the decision that affects someone's livelihood.
And perhaps in the private sector, team work dynamics are a lot different from that of the military and law enforcement. But it's the good people you meet along the way in your career or in life that becomes important---people don't go out of their way to help you if they see you as a selfish individual. You might not like every one you meet or work with, but I'd hope that if it gets down to crunch time and you have to go thru that door, they have your back as much as you have theirs when the shit hits the fan.
What follows is part two of life lessons and the shared experiences of Lt. Col. Guy Lofaro who gave this speech at the US Military Academy.
THE BURDEN OF COMMAND, COURAGE, FRIENDSHIP, CAMRADERIE
It's a few months later, and you are one of two soldiers left on a hot PZ (pick up zone) on some Caribbean island. There's been another foul up - not yours this time, but you're going to pay for it. It's you and your RTO (radio telephone operator), a nineteen-year-old surfer from Florida who can quote Shakespeare, because his Mom was a high school literature teacher, and who joined the Army because his Dad was a World War II Ranger. The last UH-60 has taken off on an air assault and someone is supposed to come back and get you guys.
But the fire is getting heavy, and you're not sure anything can get down there without getting shot up. You're taking fire from some heavily forested hills. At least two machineguns, maybe three, maybe more, and quite a few AKs, but you can't make out anything else. You and your RTO are in a hole, hunkered down as the bad guys are peppering your hole with small arms fire. Your RTO is trying to get some help - another bird to come get you, some artillery, some attack helicopters - anything. But there are other firefights happening elsewhere on this island involving much larger numbers. So as the cosmos unfold at that particular moment, in that particular place, you and that RTO are well down the order of merit list.
You feel a tug at your pants leg. Ketch, that's what you call him, Ketch tells you he got a "wait, out" when he asked for help. The radio is jammed with calls for fire and requests for support from other parts of the island.
"What we gonna do, sir?" he asks. And all of a sudden, you're learning another lesson. You're learning about the weightiness of command, because it's not just you in that hole, it's this kid you've spent every day with for the last five months. This kid you've come to love like a kid brother.
There is only one way out and that's through the bad guys. You see, you are on a peninsula that rises about 100 feet from the sea. The inland side is where the bad guys are. You figure you are safe in this hole, so long as they don't bring in any indirect fire stuff, but if they come down off those hills, onto the peninsula, then you're going to have to fight it out. And that's what you tell your RTO: We either get help or, if the bad guys come for us, we fight. He looks at you. You don't know how long. And he says only four words. Two sentences.
"Roger, sir. Let's rock." Appropriate coming from a surfer. Then he slithers back down to the bottom of the hole. Staying on the radio, your lifeline, trying to get some help. You are peering over the edge of the hole, careful not to make too big a target.
You're thinking about your wife and that little month-old baby you left a few days ago. It was two o'clock in the morning when you got the call: "Pack your gear and get in here." You kissed them both and told them to watch the news. Hell, you didn't know where you were going or why, but you were told to go, and you went.
Then all of a sudden it gets real loud, and things are flying all around and then there's a shadow that passes over you. You look up and find yourself staring at the bottom of a Blackhawk, about 15 feet over the deck, flying fast and low, and as it passes over your hole you see the door gunner dealing death and destruction on the bad guys in those hills. It sets down about 25 meters from your hole, as close as it can get.
You look up and see the crew chief kneeling inside, waving frantically to you, the door gunner still dealing with it, trying to keep the bad guys' heads down, who have now switched their fire to the bird, a much bigger, and better, target. You look at Ketch and then you're off - and you run 25 meters faster than 25 meters have ever been run since humans began to walk upright. And you dive through the open doors onto the floor of the Blackhawk. There are no seats in the bird since this is combat and we don't use them in the real deal.
And you are hugging your RTO, face-to-face, like a lover, and shouting at him "You OKAY? You OKAY? You OKAY?" But he doesn't tell you he's OKAY since he's yelling the same thing at you - "You OKAY? You OKAY? You OKAY?" And then the pilot pulls pitch and executes a violent and steep ascent out of there and had you not been holding on to the d-rings in the floor and the crew chief not been holding your legs, you might have fallen out. Then you're over the water, you're safe, and the bird levels out, and you roll over to your back and close your eyes - and you think you fall asleep.
But then you feel a hand on your blouse, and you open your eyes and see the crew chief kneeling over you with a headset in his hand. He wants you to put it on so you do. And the first thing you hear is, "I-Beamer, buddy boy. I Beamer."' You were in I-4 while a cadet, and that was your rallying cry. And you look up to where the pilots sit and you see a head sticking out from behind one of the seats. He's looking at you and it's his voice you hear, but you can't make out who it is because his visor is down. Then he lifts it, and you see the face of a man who was two years ahead of you in your company. He tells you that he knew you were there and he wasn't going to leave an I-Beamer like that. And you learn about courage, and camaraderie. And friendship that never dies!
As managers or people going into management positions, I think it's important to remember that sometimes you'll be faced with making decisions that impact people's lives. Don't make decisions without thinking things through. Most people aren't in those positions where it's a life-and-death decision that has to be made, but you might be faced with making the decision that affects someone's livelihood.
And perhaps in the private sector, team work dynamics are a lot different from that of the military and law enforcement. But it's the good people you meet along the way in your career or in life that becomes important---people don't go out of their way to help you if they see you as a selfish individual. You might not like every one you meet or work with, but I'd hope that if it gets down to crunch time and you have to go thru that door, they have your back as much as you have theirs when the shit hits the fan.
Wednesday, 7 April 2010
Life Lessons Part 1 - Loyalty
By Mojo Rider
I received an email from someone that included a transcript from a speech given by Lt. Colonel Guy Lofaro who has taught at West Point. I liked it a lot and thought I should share it for those in management positions or for those who might benefit from it in an overall life lesson. The text of this speech is taken from an address he gave to a dining-in at the U.S. Military Academy. There are some interesting lessons learned from a life spent in a military career that I think can be applied by everyone. The qualities that the military can cultivate in their forces can also be a guide for everyone in determining what really matters in life, what one should aspire to be in terms of leadership and doing the right things in your own workplace.
Here is part one of his speech:
LOYALTY
What can I say that will stay with you? And as I reflected on this I turned it on myself - what stays with me? What makes a mark on me? What do I remember, and why? How have I learned the higher lessons I so desperately want to impart to you? Well - I've learned those higher lessons through experience. And as I thought further, I realized that there's only one way to relate experience - that is to tell some stories.
Imagine you are a brand new second lieutenant on a peacekeeping mission in the Sinai Peninsula. You are less than a year out of West Point, and only a few weeks out of the basic course. You are standing at a strict position of attention in front of your battalion commander, a man you will come to realize was one of the finest soldiers with whom you've ever served, and you are being questioned about a mistake -a big mistake - that you've made.
You see, your platoon lost some live ammo. Oh sure, it was eventually found, but for a few hours you had the entire battalion scrambling. Your battalion commander is not yelling at you though, he's not demeaning you; he's simply taking this opportunity to ensure you learn from the experience. And you do - you learn that people make mistakes, that those mistakes do not usually result in the end of the world, and that such occasions are valuable opportunities to impart some higher lessons.
Then, out of the corner of your eye, you see your platoon sergeant emerge from behind a building. He's an old soldier - a fine soldier though - whose knees have seen a few too many airborne operations. He sees you and the colonel - and he takes off at a run. You see him approaching from behind the colonel and the next thing you see is the back of your platoon sergeant's head. He is now standing between you and your battalion commander - the two are eyeball to eyeball.
Your platoon sergeant says, with a touch of indignance in his voice, "Leave my lieutenant alone, sir. He didn't lose the ammo, I did. I was the one who miscounted. You want someone's ass, you take mine." And you learn another lesson - you learn about loyalty.
The best supervisors I’ve ever worked for, and they are far and few between, have always protected the staff from crap. How can you not respect a supervisor that goes to bat for you and your fellow co-workers? And it flows both ways too. The rank and file can stand up for their supervisor as well. The worst supervisors are the ones who are too afraid to stand up for their staff. Far too often you have people in management that are only worried about how they look to the front office. I’ve found that smart supervisors recognize that it’s the staff that makes them look good. You are only as good as the people working for you.
I received an email from someone that included a transcript from a speech given by Lt. Colonel Guy Lofaro who has taught at West Point. I liked it a lot and thought I should share it for those in management positions or for those who might benefit from it in an overall life lesson. The text of this speech is taken from an address he gave to a dining-in at the U.S. Military Academy. There are some interesting lessons learned from a life spent in a military career that I think can be applied by everyone. The qualities that the military can cultivate in their forces can also be a guide for everyone in determining what really matters in life, what one should aspire to be in terms of leadership and doing the right things in your own workplace.
Here is part one of his speech:
LOYALTY
What can I say that will stay with you? And as I reflected on this I turned it on myself - what stays with me? What makes a mark on me? What do I remember, and why? How have I learned the higher lessons I so desperately want to impart to you? Well - I've learned those higher lessons through experience. And as I thought further, I realized that there's only one way to relate experience - that is to tell some stories.
Imagine you are a brand new second lieutenant on a peacekeeping mission in the Sinai Peninsula. You are less than a year out of West Point, and only a few weeks out of the basic course. You are standing at a strict position of attention in front of your battalion commander, a man you will come to realize was one of the finest soldiers with whom you've ever served, and you are being questioned about a mistake -a big mistake - that you've made.
You see, your platoon lost some live ammo. Oh sure, it was eventually found, but for a few hours you had the entire battalion scrambling. Your battalion commander is not yelling at you though, he's not demeaning you; he's simply taking this opportunity to ensure you learn from the experience. And you do - you learn that people make mistakes, that those mistakes do not usually result in the end of the world, and that such occasions are valuable opportunities to impart some higher lessons.
Then, out of the corner of your eye, you see your platoon sergeant emerge from behind a building. He's an old soldier - a fine soldier though - whose knees have seen a few too many airborne operations. He sees you and the colonel - and he takes off at a run. You see him approaching from behind the colonel and the next thing you see is the back of your platoon sergeant's head. He is now standing between you and your battalion commander - the two are eyeball to eyeball.
Your platoon sergeant says, with a touch of indignance in his voice, "Leave my lieutenant alone, sir. He didn't lose the ammo, I did. I was the one who miscounted. You want someone's ass, you take mine." And you learn another lesson - you learn about loyalty.
The best supervisors I’ve ever worked for, and they are far and few between, have always protected the staff from crap. How can you not respect a supervisor that goes to bat for you and your fellow co-workers? And it flows both ways too. The rank and file can stand up for their supervisor as well. The worst supervisors are the ones who are too afraid to stand up for their staff. Far too often you have people in management that are only worried about how they look to the front office. I’ve found that smart supervisors recognize that it’s the staff that makes them look good. You are only as good as the people working for you.
Monday, 5 April 2010
Yoonha Hwang "Break Your Heart"
Beautiful rendition of "Break Your Heart" by Yoonha Hwang. Yoonha Hwang is a Korean national from Seoul, South Korea, and posts video under his youtube channel Yoonha85.
Saturday, 3 April 2010
Podcast: Do Universities Discriminate against Asian-Americans?
A look into elite universities found that many Asian-Americans are denied admission, despite higher test scores and grades than students of other races. Does this mirror discrimination against Jews in academia in the 1950s and 60s, or does it reflect universities struggling to maintain diversity? We'll also look into new admissions policies at the University of California which critics say will reduce the number of Asian-Americans allowed in.
Host: Dave Iverson
Guests:
Angela Suh Um, founder and chief consultant with the Boston Academic Consulting Group and former employee in the admissions departments of MIT and Harvard
Daniel Golden, editor at large at Bloomberg News and author of "The Price of Admission: How America's Ruling Class Buys Its Way into Elite Colleges -- and Who Gets Left Outside the Gates"
Ling-Chi Wang, retired professor of ethnic studies and Asian-American studies at UC Berkeley
Mark Rashid, professor of civil engineering at UC Davis and former chair of the UC's Admission Board (2006-2008)
Friday, 2 April 2010
Emotional Expressiveness
By the Better Asian Man
I was once emotionally non-expressive. I was a master of what the Asian Playboy likes to call "the Asian Poker Face."
My life before the Transition Period
My mom raised me with very traditional Asian values-- values that she learned from her parents. These values stuck with her from her formative years (somewhere around 1965). Even though Taiwan has evolved far beyond the ways of that time period, my mom's values were still stuck in a time-warp; the die-hard conservatism from that time period remained in her, and was my model of behavior to follow for most of my life. The mid 60's was a complex time for people in Taiwan. There were lots of things going on at that time, and there was plenty of good reason to have lots and lots of conservatism in all areas of life-- academics, government, personal finance, individual thought, and of course, romance. The society that my mom came from placed an extremely high value on:
I can recall one particular conversation I had with my mom (my parents were divorced when I was young, so I only ever really knew my mom) when I was 11. I was just at the point where I started becoming more and more interested in girls (prior to that point, all I cared about was playing baseball and football with my friends). I'm pretty sure that you could imagine what those raging hormones were doing to me at that time in terms of affecting my emotional state and the brand new emotions I was experiencing particularly in the area of my interest in girls. In this conversation I excitedly told my mother about some girl that I talked to in my class and how pretty she was. My excitement was nothing short of the kinetic energy generated by the full force of Niagra Falls. I can't remember exactly what I was doing, but I know I was pretty darned excited talking about this girl. After I had finished blurting out what I was saying, my mom sat there, paused for a moment, and replied with,
"Uh huh."
Immediately following that, I was scolded and yelled at by her for about 10 minutes on why I shouldn't smile so much and how I was moving my eyebrows up and down too much as I spoke.
"Why do you have to move your eyebrows up and down like that? Stop smiling so much.... no one will ever take you seriously."
I was devastated. I had no clue what the hell was going on. I was completely confused. I was so incredibly excited about this girl that I had just met (note: I probably talked to her for about 10 seconds about the social studies homework that was due that day), what we talked about, and I was so overwhelmed with all these new emotions (and hormones), that I just had to tell someone about it. I went out on a limb to tell my mom about it, and I got beaten down pretty badly for it.
My eyes are tearing now as I'm typing this and recalling this experience. How sad it was to have to go through that. No young boy should ever have to go through something like this.
So, from that point forward, I continued to beat down the emotions within me, to suppress the facial expressions that I naturally wanted to show the world, to suppress the emotional inflection in my voice that is so natural to everyone else in my life, and to fulfill one of the time-tested requirements of the society of 1965 Taiwan: emotional non-expressiveness.
Suffice it to say that this emotional non-expressiveness made it very difficult for me to romantically connect with women.
My life after the Transition Period
When I'm dating a girl, I want her to know who I am. I want to be sure that if she likes being with me, she's choosing me because of me. When I took the ABCs of Attraction bootcamp, I learned, for the first time in my life, that the primary means of doing this is by emotional expressiveness-- emotional expressiveness through facial gestures, through body language, through voice tonality, through voice pitch, through voice volume, and through eye contact. This key lesson, which was taught to me during our lectures and also practiced during our improv sessions during the bootcamp weekend, helped me dramatically increase my dating and romantic options. (In terms of the number of girls that I fully-romantically-connected with before being taught this lesson versus after, we're talking about a factor of about 6.5 times what I had before. Go back and read the ABOUT section on BetterAsianMan.com and do the math).
This one lesson that I learned from the ABCs of Attraction bootcamp weekend was in direct conflict with the traditional asian value that I was raised with in item (1) above. I finally realized that the ancient Eastern value of emotional non-expression, which was so highly prized in that society, caused disastrous results for an Asian American man living in the United States. The Western culture here places an extremely high value on:
Prior to that bootcamp weekend, no one had ever taught me to do this. I had a very successful career, and I interacted with all kinds of people-- my co-workers, my manager, executives who where two and three levels above my manager, support staff, and even clients of the firm. In fact, I was so good at interacting with all kinds of people that I became the only contractor in my division to be permitted to represent the firm to external clients for the purpose of negotiating project deliverables and timelines. I also had a very active community volunteer service record, with several years of volunteer work with various non-profit organizations (all geared towards serving the Asian American community in various ways), and I headed up teams of volunteers to execute enormously complex community projects. But with all of this experience in dealing with people in business, community service, leadership, and cooperation, not one single aspect of those dealings assisted me in figuring out how to give a woman one critically important thing she needs in order to romantically connect with me: Emotional Expressiveness.
I was once emotionally non-expressive. I was a master of what the Asian Playboy likes to call "the Asian Poker Face."
My life before the Transition Period
My mom raised me with very traditional Asian values-- values that she learned from her parents. These values stuck with her from her formative years (somewhere around 1965). Even though Taiwan has evolved far beyond the ways of that time period, my mom's values were still stuck in a time-warp; the die-hard conservatism from that time period remained in her, and was my model of behavior to follow for most of my life. The mid 60's was a complex time for people in Taiwan. There were lots of things going on at that time, and there was plenty of good reason to have lots and lots of conservatism in all areas of life-- academics, government, personal finance, individual thought, and of course, romance. The society that my mom came from placed an extremely high value on:
(1) Emotional non-expression.
I can recall one particular conversation I had with my mom (my parents were divorced when I was young, so I only ever really knew my mom) when I was 11. I was just at the point where I started becoming more and more interested in girls (prior to that point, all I cared about was playing baseball and football with my friends). I'm pretty sure that you could imagine what those raging hormones were doing to me at that time in terms of affecting my emotional state and the brand new emotions I was experiencing particularly in the area of my interest in girls. In this conversation I excitedly told my mother about some girl that I talked to in my class and how pretty she was. My excitement was nothing short of the kinetic energy generated by the full force of Niagra Falls. I can't remember exactly what I was doing, but I know I was pretty darned excited talking about this girl. After I had finished blurting out what I was saying, my mom sat there, paused for a moment, and replied with,
"Uh huh."
Immediately following that, I was scolded and yelled at by her for about 10 minutes on why I shouldn't smile so much and how I was moving my eyebrows up and down too much as I spoke.
"Why do you have to move your eyebrows up and down like that? Stop smiling so much.... no one will ever take you seriously."
I was devastated. I had no clue what the hell was going on. I was completely confused. I was so incredibly excited about this girl that I had just met (note: I probably talked to her for about 10 seconds about the social studies homework that was due that day), what we talked about, and I was so overwhelmed with all these new emotions (and hormones), that I just had to tell someone about it. I went out on a limb to tell my mom about it, and I got beaten down pretty badly for it.
My eyes are tearing now as I'm typing this and recalling this experience. How sad it was to have to go through that. No young boy should ever have to go through something like this.
So, from that point forward, I continued to beat down the emotions within me, to suppress the facial expressions that I naturally wanted to show the world, to suppress the emotional inflection in my voice that is so natural to everyone else in my life, and to fulfill one of the time-tested requirements of the society of 1965 Taiwan: emotional non-expressiveness.
Suffice it to say that this emotional non-expressiveness made it very difficult for me to romantically connect with women.
My life after the Transition Period
When I'm dating a girl, I want her to know who I am. I want to be sure that if she likes being with me, she's choosing me because of me. When I took the ABCs of Attraction bootcamp, I learned, for the first time in my life, that the primary means of doing this is by emotional expressiveness-- emotional expressiveness through facial gestures, through body language, through voice tonality, through voice pitch, through voice volume, and through eye contact. This key lesson, which was taught to me during our lectures and also practiced during our improv sessions during the bootcamp weekend, helped me dramatically increase my dating and romantic options. (In terms of the number of girls that I fully-romantically-connected with before being taught this lesson versus after, we're talking about a factor of about 6.5 times what I had before. Go back and read the ABOUT section on BetterAsianMan.com and do the math).
This one lesson that I learned from the ABCs of Attraction bootcamp weekend was in direct conflict with the traditional asian value that I was raised with in item (1) above. I finally realized that the ancient Eastern value of emotional non-expression, which was so highly prized in that society, caused disastrous results for an Asian American man living in the United States. The Western culture here places an extremely high value on:
(2) Emotional expression
Prior to that bootcamp weekend, no one had ever taught me to do this. I had a very successful career, and I interacted with all kinds of people-- my co-workers, my manager, executives who where two and three levels above my manager, support staff, and even clients of the firm. In fact, I was so good at interacting with all kinds of people that I became the only contractor in my division to be permitted to represent the firm to external clients for the purpose of negotiating project deliverables and timelines. I also had a very active community volunteer service record, with several years of volunteer work with various non-profit organizations (all geared towards serving the Asian American community in various ways), and I headed up teams of volunteers to execute enormously complex community projects. But with all of this experience in dealing with people in business, community service, leadership, and cooperation, not one single aspect of those dealings assisted me in figuring out how to give a woman one critically important thing she needs in order to romantically connect with me: Emotional Expressiveness.