Reawakening the Blog

For various reasons, I'm about to set off on a new adventure. Starting in August, I'll be teaching ESL once more--this time in Shanghai. I hope you'll follow along.

Right now I'm running around frantically trying to get my visa in order. I'd also love it it my house elf came back from wherever he's been hiding and started packing my stuff, but you can't have everything, I guess. These tasks--plus trying to export my cat--should make me very busy the next few weeks, not least because we've got a big family wedding to go to at the end of this month. Excitement is what pushes the world forward, I guess. Wish me luck!

XOXO,

Kate

If I Ran The Country #1: Civil Service Exams

Hi! I'm back. I'm not in Korea anymore-- I came back in August, and am staying with my mom &co while I work on what I hope will be my first polished novel. You can read more about that over at my other blog, where I post anything not related to reading or writing. (You can even read two of my stories, Under Glass and Warmth in Winter. Don't you want to? Go! Go!)

Anyway. Back in Korea, I had a notebook I had dedicated to ideas I planned to implement if I were ever somehow placed in charge of a country. This country, more specifically. I'm not sure where the notebook is now, but I still have the ideas-- and I might as well put them here, right? I mean, if I don't have anything else going on over here, I might as well publish the occasional manifesto.

Here goes:

Our political system is ridiculous.

I think we all know this. The two main political parties have too much power; lobbying destroys the integrity of the government; the Electoral College is nonsensical. Most importantly, our political process has been more or less reduced to a reality TV show: we elect whoever looks the best on camera.

It is entirely too easy to qualify for public office in this country.

If you're like me, you learned in elementary school what it takes to be a Presidential candidate here. If you want to run for President in the USA, you must:

1. Have been born here.
2. Be at least 35 years old. 
3. Have lived in the country for at least 14 years. They don't even have to have been consecutive.

That's it. Those are the only requirements. As you go down the ranks-- Senate, House, Governor-- it gets even easier. There's a reason pro wrestlers and movie stars are able to ascend the ranks of political leadership in this country: you don't have to be qualified to be elected. You just have to be charismatic.


I'm sure a lot of people think this is a good thing. Everyone loved Dubya because he passed himself off as a a beer-drinkin' good ol' boy who was Just Like You.  You can be a total idiot and still get elected to public office here-- one could argue that it helps not to be too smart, or at least not to admit to it.

It's no good for anyone when you have elected officials who, say, lack a basic understanding of modern technology, or believe US law should be subject to the dictates of the Bible. Knowledge is power, so it's important that those in power be well informed if they're going to do their jobs.

One of the things that's almost always mentioned in stories about pre-Revolution China is the civil service examination. The idea was that any candidate for government office of any kind had to be well-versed in a certain group of disciplines-- literature, Confucian philosophy, military strategy, economics, etc.-- before they could be appointed to positions of civic responsibility. Naturally, like any human system, this one had its flaws (most notably the fact that only upper-class men could actually expect to make any headway). Still, I think it's a good concept. We like to convince ourselves that our Presidents and other public officials are exceptional human beings, capable of making wise and well-informed decisions in high-pressure situations. But how many of them are really qualified for the jobs they're elected to do? I am a hard-core Obama supporter, but I believe his election is due at least as much to his charisma, good looks, interesting background, photogenic family, and terrific PR campaign as it is to his ability to lead. With a good enough advertising team, even an incoherent buffoon can have a pretty good chance of being elected to public office. As we've seen.

So if I ran the country, all candidates for public office would have to meet a set of clearly-defined standards before they could even be considered for the jobs they wanted. For example:

• Public service

My mom thinks everyone should be required to do a term of public service at some point in their lives, and I think she's probably right. (Do as I say, not as I do-- I thought about the Peace Corps, but it wasn't financially feasible at the time.) The idea here would be to get away from home and family for a while (a year? Two years?) and spend time doing things that had a positive impact on the world. Habitat for Humanity, Teach For America, and Doctors Without Borders are some examples. Exceptions could be made for people who've served as soldiers, police officers, firefighters, EMTs, etc. It can be considered a gesture of good faith: "Look, folks, I may not be a completely selfish bastard!"

• An encyclopedic knowledge of the Constitution

Mandatory. Everyone should know more about "the supreme law of the land" than most of us do, but the person in charge of executing it should be held to much higher standards than the rest of us. Candidates for state and local government would also need to know all about their state constitutions, local charters, and whatever other documents were relevant.

• Knowledge of languages other than English

Apparently Newt Gingrich has been sneering at Mitt Romney because he speaks French. Now, from personal experience I can tell you that studying French is not of much practical use in this country, and I'm not saying Mittens doesn't give us plenty to sneer at. I'm disgusted, however, that Gingrich would imply that an ability to communicate with non-English speakers makes a person less reliable. Doesn't bode well for his ability to lead our decidedly multicultural country.

Studying foreign languages changes the way you think. If you learn a language, you also learn culture, and start to see new ways of looking at the world. Furthermore, if you're trying to represent your country-- and that is one of the POTUS' most important jobs-- then you'll make a much better showing if you're able to communicate with people when you travel outside of it. I was very disappointed to read that Obama doesn't speak a foreign language (and surprised, as well! I'm not sure how he managed it). If I ran the world, I would require every Presidential candidate to speak and write three languages besides English fluently. If I couldn't have that, I'd require at least two. Impossible, you say? South Africa, India, Belgium, Switzerland, and a number of other countries beg to differ.

You know how, when you go overseas, everyone's able to speak to you in English? That's because (unless you're traveling in a Commonwealth nation) the people you meet have been studying English for years. They are using it to make new friends, get better jobs, and advance in ways that are now out of reach for most Americans.

Honestly, that's another subject. But I think it's clear why an extensive knowledge of foreign languages is one of my requirements for an ideal political candidate.

So: secondary languages. At least two for Presidential candidates-- though three or more would be better. One for Congressional candidates and everybody else. Candidates for political office would have to pass a university-level proficiency test of each language s/he claimed to speak within two years of running for office. These tests, and their results, would be open to public scrutiny, so as to discourage cheating.

If you're from Hawaii, or any state where more than 10% of the citizens speak a language other than English at home, then congratulations: your secondary language is already picked out for you. I just learned that Hawaii is officially bilingual, and also that the Hawaiian language is endangered. French is apparently the de facto second language of Maine as well as Louisiana. Officials in Arizona, California, Colorado, Florida, Illinois, Nevada, New Jersey, New Mexico, New York, and Texas should be fluent in Spanish. (As should everyone, really. Even if no one in the US spoke Spanish, it would still be the official language of most countries in the Western Hemisphere. Good manners alone suggest that we learn it.)

(Note: I know very little Spanish. It's on my list of things to do. If I ruled the world, I would tell myself to get on that shit pronto.)

• An encyclopedic knowledge of US culture, history, and geography

Self-explanatory. To discourage cheating, make each test a different combination of randomly-generated questions. Submit and grade anonymously. Results and answers would all go into the public record.

• A very thorough knowledge of world cultures, history, and geography

Also self-explanatory. "I can see Russia from my house" does not cut it. Bonus points for time spent abroad. (For state officials, substitute-- or, preferably, add-- an encyclopedic knowledge of the state in question.)

• Graduate-level coursework in law, economics, and political science

Look, we want the best of the best, right? In a nation of 313 million people, I'm sure we can come up with at least a few stellar individuals who meet all these criteria.

You've probably noticed the obvious problem: education requires money. The way things are now, things would play out the same way they did in Imperial China: only the rich and powerful would be able to take the test, let alone pass it. Unfortunately, we're not yet at the point where we can start everyone off on the same foot, and people always want to give their kids all the advantages they can. If you start everyone on the same footing, those who can afford it will pay to get their kids extra help in the form of tutors, books, summers abroad, etc. For right now, we're not likely to solve that problem.

But you know what? I would rather rich people got elected to public office by being better educated than other rich people than by simply having more money (which is what generally happens now).

Maybe the exams could be free to anyone who meets certain criteria-- the right age, the right GPA, letters of recommendation from teachers and public-service supervisors. For the Presidency and other high-level positions, maybe candidates would have to prove themselves by finishing out terms in humbler positions first. That would level the field drastically.

The exams should be free (they'd just be standardized tests, anyway, and lord knows we already give plenty of those). You'd conduct them in rounds, making cuts as needed as you moved from level to level. At the end, you'd be left with a small pool of highly qualified candidates-- whom you could then put on the hot seat.

Phew. That took awhile.

So much for the qualifications. Now: the election.


1) Extremely strict limitations on campaign advertising.

Leave the internet alone-- there's no point in trying to regulate banner ads-- but get the worthless attack ads out of the other media. Each candidate would be allowed a set number of advertising minutes per channel/station per day. In each ad,

• You may state your positions on various issues.
• You may list your qualifications for office.
• That's it.

Political attack ads are ugly and unproductive. They accomplish nothing worthwhile, and lend an unsavory tone to the entire political process. (Not that it didn't have one to begin with.) Political candidates can say whatever they want to on their own blogs and in their own literature, but they shouldn't be allowed to manipulate public opinion by throwing buckets of dollars at the TV stations.


I would limit ad minutes because just limiting spending  doesn't work. If you put a cap on how much individuals can spend, they'll just find other individuals to act as smokescreens: "This ad paid for by the Basket Weavers in Support of Joe Blow."

(It would probably be best to have some kind of clean election financing system, anyway. I don't know enough about campaign finance to really comment, though, and my eyes are getting tired.)


2) Kick out the parties.

I'm not saying political parties should be shut down. They're a great way for people to organize themselves around ideological lines. But in my system, candidates for office would be legally required to remain politically neutral throughout the election and (if applicable) throughout their terms in office. Naturally most candidates would feel that one party or another suited their interests the best, but it's not right for public officials, whose duty is to the city, state, or country, to owe their election to a political group that's the enemy of half their constituents. Once the pool of politically-neutral candidates has been selected, the political parties can decide who they like and go crazy supporting them. But I don't think a given candidate should run as a Democrat or a Republican. It's a built-in conflict of interest.


3) Debates: High-pressure oral exams from hell.

Once the candidates are established-- and at this point they should be the best of the best-- schedule a series of debates. The more the better, probably-- maybe one pertaining to each major department? I don't know much about debating, but the Canadian system looks like a reasonable way to manage it.

Debate moderators should be like that one professor who never let you get away with anything. "Can you expand more on that argument? Tell me why you chose this word. I noticed a factual error in the statement you just made that renders your entire argument invalid. Would you like to reconsider?" This is the candidates' last chance to show off for the audience. It should serve mostly to tell the voters what they can expect if a given candidate is elected. It is not an opportunity for grandstanding.

This process would take forever, but that wouldn't matter. Since the selection of candidates wouldn't be politically motivated-- at least not till the end-- there wouldn't be nearly as much stumping and glad-handing to get through before the race began. At the end of the debate series, each candidate-- maybe now you'd be down to two or three-- would have a chance to make a final speech, like a lawyer's closing arguments, summing up all his/her positions and qualifications. And after that would come Election Day.

I want my political leaders to be decent, intelligent, thoughtful, well-informed, eloquent, and diplomatic. I would really like to see if this is a way to get them that way.

Appropriate extravagance

Today was my friend Aneika's birthday, and she had the most wonderfully indulgent ideas! Both of them were significant firsts for me:

1) My first real massage (outside of friendly shoulder-rubs).

2) My first deliberately extravagant French meal. I've been to France twice before, but was a student both times and stuck to the budget-safe tourist menus. It... makes a difference.

I always had the idea that spa treatments and expensive foods were pointless indulgences-- something rich people did to show off their excess money. I was kind of proud to be a non-participant. But this evening, combined with my first-ever pedicure a few weeks ago, is starting to change my mind. I'm realizing that treating oneself well is not a pointless waste of money. It has a real impact on quality of life.

I typically spend a lot of money on food. I love to eat. The things I buy, though, are not big-ticket items. I've tended instead to get a lot of cheap stuff-- little pastries, convenience-store sandwiches, candy bars (definitely a sweet snacker, here)-- and just graze on them throughout the day. Though the food is not the best, it provides a lot of cheap thrills, so to speak-- it's fast and easy and tastes good going down.

This evening's dinner was different. The portions were small-- my entree would have fit on a bread plate with room to spare-- but the food was so rich and the flavors so intense that all of us were stuffed before we finished. Every bite of it was perfect, and I felt no need for more.

One of the girls at the table had taken a cooking class on a trip to France, and was talking about how strict the French food regulations are. Even vegetables, she said, are classed differently depending on quality. Our (French) waiter, who looked about 25, seemed as knowledgeable and passionate about wine and food as anyone I've ever met. I felt really out of my depth listening to him talk about cheeses with the girl who'd taken the cooking class.

It made me sad, because that kind of knowledge and passion is something most Americans really don't have. We feed ourselves on what is cheap and easy, focusing on bulk instead of quality. I would guess that most of us are only familiar with a handful of ingredients, and can only prepare a handful of dishes using a handful of cooking techniques. (I'm going by my own experience, here: my non-dessert modes are limited to "steam," "boil," "fry" and "eat raw.") Junk-food companies are allowed to advertise more or less anything as "food." Beyond cookout fare and soul food, we don't really have a proper food culture at all, and I think that's horribly sad.

I know that this post is not covering any new ground. All these points have been made a million times (notably in French Women Don't Get Fat, which I think I put down because its suggestions seemed far too hard to follow). I was just struck by how dramatic the difference can be between top-quality ingredients well prepared and the processed stuff most restaurants will sell you.

I decided that this week, at least, I would try to move back towards high-quality ingredients and cooking at home. (I love eating out, and generally prefer it, but health food is not what you get at most restaurants around here.) Top-quality stuff seems really expensive, at first-- I just bought a carton of organic eggs for double what the regular ones cost. But when you think about what's necessary for survival, food is at the top of the list. I am hoping that eating more high-quality food is going to do me some good.

Who needs sleep?

A while ago, my aunt Emily posted a link to an article entitled "Sleep is More Important Than Food." (And may I say how much I love being able to type a few keywords and come up with an article I read weeks ago.) It's something everyone says, but I guess it had never been pointed out to me this starkly before. Since reading that article I've been trying, and mostly succeeding, to get at least something like a full night's sleep every day. I've pretty much been sleep-deprived since high school (late nights reading + early-morning church "seminary" classes = no good for a developing adolescent brain), so this has taken some adjustment. I'm still not 100%-- I have a particularly hard time when I've been at work late and haven't had much time to myself-- but I've improved my sleeping patterns enough to notice a significant difference.

Anyone who knows me well knows that I am an evil dinosaur first thing in the morning. Multiple cups of stimulant are required to get me functional (though at least I've switched to tea lately), and I'm prone to snap at anyone who approaches me with a question before I've had them. This remains the case, of course-- I love my caffeine much too dearly to give it up without a fight-- but I think the species of dinosaur is much less dire when I've had at least seven hours of sleep. Maybe down to a stegosaurus instead of an ankylosaurus. (Loads of F-bombs in that video; beware.)

I also have a much easier time getting up-- I still pull the covers over my head at least five times before getting up, but at least I feel like I'm capable of getting up before that. In the past I've slept through multiple alarms, and even been late for work, because I went to bed too late. (My brain has developed a nifty self-defense mechanism wherein it says "FU" and ignores alarm clocks if I haven't been getting enough sleep. For several years I went to bed paranoid every night that I might be about to oversleep again.)

Someone on Twitter linked in passing to this article-- Arianna Huffington's "Sleep Challenge 2010." I read it and thought it had a good point. It prevents sleep-deprivation as a feminist issue-- citing stats on how women in the US tend to get less sleep than men do. I'm sure that's true, but I'm also sure that this is an important issue for everyone.

 The other big thing-- and something I've only concretely noticed this week-- is that when I'm really tired I eat way more junk food. Like, follow a full meal with a muffin and a cream bun, or down a whole bag of cookies or four donuts or three slices of pizza in a sitting when I'm not even hungry. This is something that goes way back with me, too. As it happens, the HuffPost article links to this one from Glamour. While I would ordinarily roll my eyes-- "pfft, Glamour"-- I think I'm starting to have anecdotal evidence that you can "Lose Weight While You Sleep": I'm starting to lose weight.

Not a lot, so far, and certainly not enough to write home about (though apparently I'm doing that), but... it's encouraging. I shall follow this trend and see how it goes.

And, as it is a Saturday night, I happily resolve to sleep as long as I can tomorrow morning, with all the alarms turned off. (This is something I fantasize sometimes during the workweek.) I hope that all of you can, and will, do the same. Sweet dreams!

It's been a while. Again.

I keep starting drafts here and leaving them to languish. I feel like sometimes my thoughts go stale-- I feel less passionate about what I was writing about, or find something new to focus on-- and then it seems dishonest to post about them as if I still believed what I was saying. I'm going to try keeping things short, simple and regular-- if I visit both blogs every day, I can try to keep things moving off the cutting board fast enough to still be relevant when I post them.

As proof that I mean it, I'm going to post this right now. Here's hoping the next one will be longer and more scintillating.

New things

I'm home again, for the month of November, and considering my options.

I had almost decided to start graduate school. I'd even aspired to a voice Master's from UNC Greensboro. It's supposed to be a very competitive school, but I thought that the competition might motivate me to try harder.

Then I had a voice lesson. My confidence deflated like a balloon. It's amazing how much you can forget in four years away from singing! The slump passed quickly, but it was too late: I'd already let the doubt in.

I love to sing, and I never want to stop, but I'm pretty sure now that voice is not the ideal career path for me. To succeed in the performing arts, you must be absolutely positive about what you are doing. There is no room for self-doubt, and you must be 100% committed. I've tried to take it that seriously, but in truth I've never been that resolved.

The problem is that my real ambition-- and I know, I've waffled a lot on this blog, but this is the real one-- was always to be an author. Not a writer. An author. If you'd asked me at age five or six what I wanted to be, that's what I would have told you. If you'd asked me at age seven, eight or nine, I would have said the same thing. It wasn't until I hit middle school, and started hearing about how hard it was to succeed as a writer, that my career ambitions started to waver.

I once heard that the job you dream of at age six is usually the best one for you. I'm sure that in most cases, that's not true-- "fairy-princess-ballerina" comes to mind. However, I have always wanted to write. I've littered my life with notebooks half-full of stories I never had the steam to finish-- and they're fascinating stories. I find them and want to keep reading, even though the ideas were eaten by moths a long time ago.

I've never given up on this. I've let my music slide-- I've let my languages slide-- I've let everything else slide, but I've always had a story going. I guess this should have been a sign to me.

I knew, though, that it was hard to make a living as a writer. Anyone you ask will tell you that. I've always tried to have some solid career trajectory in mind to keep my loved ones from worrying. "Oh... I'm going to be a teacher. I think I could be a pretty good teacher." "Maybe I'll be a nurse. Do you like being a nurse?" "Urban planning. It should be fun, and it's compatible with my talents..." My most recent scheme was to come home and become a wedding singer.

I still might do some of that, if life works out that way. I love to sing. I love weddings. I love to dress up and be fancy.

I just don't think I can make my life out of it.

Right now I'm thinking seriously about taking a CELTA course after my current contract is up, and using it to find a job somewhere new and interesting. I don't want the best job, or the most prestigious job, or the most glamorous job. I want a solid, reliable, low-stress job, where I can get all my work done and have plenty of time left over to write. ESL jobs are great in this respect-- and have the added advantage of taking you to exciting new places. I don't have to find A Perfect Thing; I just need to find A Thing That Works For Now.

I was talking to a friend about this yesterday, and she pretty much got it.

"All of this," I said, "is pretty much a way to bide my time until I start finishing and publishing books."

"But you no longer feel guilty about this."

"No."

And that seems to be the crux of the matter. I no longer feel guilty about devoting myself to the one kind of work I have always known I could do.

I've set up a writing blog to document my progress, and am using National Novel Writing Month as a way to kick-start a new project. It's not easy: I've finally, finally realized that serious writing is hard work.

But I'm up for it.

Life updates

I've decided to stay in Korea for now-- and at the same hagwon I've been with for three years now. It wasn't an easy decision, and required a full pros-and-cons chart and everything, but in the end it came down mostly to not fixing what ain't broke.

I'd decided to move to Seoul, actually, so I could spend some time seeing more of the city, and had launched a full-scale job search after telling my current school I wasn't going to renew. I went on a number of interviews, met some nice people and saw some pretty nice places, but never did get an offer that was better than what I've got now. That, plus the hassle of moving-- and a month of personal vacation for signing on again here-- made leaving seem like a poorer and poorer choice.

I'm quite happy with my decision-- I was actually kind of elated when it was finalized. I'd thought I was looking forward to moving, but coming closer and closer to the day when I'd leave all my students and coworkers was apparently depressing me, because I bounced right back up when I got to tell them I was staying. Now that I know I've got the rest of the school year with my current crop of kinders, I've been getting much more involved with their development and am doing my job much better.

Since I've decided to stay here, at least for the time being, I've also decided to feather my nest a little bit. Since moving in three years ago I've treated my apartment as temporary housing, like a hotel, and haven't really done a lot to personalize it or make it nice (beyond the requisite Home Plus flower decals on the walls). Since I initially thought I'd only be here a year, I didn't really see the point of making it a "home" and loading myself down with stuff I'd just have to mail or get rid of at the end of the contract. The same reasoning carried me through years two and three, each of which I thought would be my last. The whole time I've been here, I never really bothered to make my apartment a "home."

It's understandable, in one way. Expats are in a weird position: you don't want to get yourself too involved in where you currently are, because the more entanglements you have the more difficult it is to pack up and go home again. Friends are one (good) entanglement, and romances are another. Putting lots of time and effort into a home or apartment is like admitting that you expect to be there for the long haul, and for some people I'm sure that's scary.

I don't plan to be here "for the long haul" (though, again, I've already surprised myself three times), but I've started to think that people need a home-space that they can fully occupy, even if it's only for a little while. Maybe that's how you become an adult-- take charge of what's around you, decide how you want things and take the steps to make them that way. It's more than I ever really did as a child, it's much more than I did in college or right afterward, and until now it's more than I've done with my apartment here. Having a few things I like also inclines me to take better care of them than I do of the ragbag bedding and plastic dishes left behind by former teachers. By viewing this place as temporary, I absolved myself of a lot of housekeeping responsibilities-- but I also missed out on a lot of the privileges of having my own place.

So, from now on, things to do:

*Translate all the controls on the washer and thermostat, rather than using only the buttons the former tenant pointed out to me when I moved in.

*Hang posters on the wall.

*Get rid of all the crap I've accumulated since moving in here, keeping only the things I need, like and want.

*Etc. I'll post pictures if I ever manage to make the place sightly.

Yours, Kate

We had a lot of surprise snow last week. We'd gotten so many false predictions that I stopped paying attention to the forecast. Then it snowed off and on for about three days. It was very pretty, but the air was too warm for much accumulation. Probably that was for the best.

---

I'm really torn about what I'm going to do when I go home this summer. I've considered a number of possible jobs-- tutor, TA, copy-editing assistant-- but none of them has really caught my interest. If I'm honest with myself, the idea of settling back into a regular job and niche at home is a little depressing. I also feel like it's a little silly to leave a proven, steady source of income and step back into the uncertainty of the US job market right now.

At the same time, the part of me that sounds like my mother says that I should get started making a "real career" for myself. I'm 26 now, which is a bit too old to be acting like an indecisive college student. Maybe I should be "making connections," meeting people, building a resume that American employers would be able to relate to.

But 26 is really young, too, and I want to travel more.

I miss my family and friends, and seeing them more often is a big reason to go home. How often would I see them, though? They have their own lives. I might not even be able to get a job close to home. Then what? I'm also terrified of ending up in another stifling cycle-- barely treading water, watching my free time slip by in an exhausted daze while I struggle to put gas in my car. The year before I came to Korea was, in some ways, my most miserable ever. It was certainly the most hopeless and frustrating. I never want to return to that, and I'd do a lot to avoid it.

I've been thinking a lot about Japan in the last week or so. I'm reading Speed Tribes right now, which has renewed my interest in returning to the places I saw there this summer. Tokyo, in particular, captured my interest, and I'd love to see more of it. I'm not sure about living in Japan, though-- it's hideously expensive, and I'd just be staying afloat (if not losing money. Still, it would be an adventure, and I'm not ready to give up on those.

I do want to spend some time as a person before I go back to being an alien, though. When I went home for Christmas this year, I couldn't get over the simple miracle of being able to speak in my own language to anyone I met without coming across rude. I want to eat familiar foods, use a dryer, have a social circle of more than a handful of people. I need to spend some time reconnecting with home before I start in on a new kind of "away." I'm just having a hard time visualizing how it's going to go.