Brooklyn, I love you.

I can't believe it's already been a year.

Last March, I moved to Brooklyn: two suitcases in hand, and a dream in my head. One year later, I'm working at an elementary school as an after-school counselor teaching peace education and social responsibility to fourth graders, music is the central part of my life, dancing is my physical outlet, and I patiently await my City Year in August. It's been a long, confusing, exciting, dynamic, and sometimes even lonely, whirlwind of a journey, but I have never regretted moving here, and I love it more and more every day.

I remember, when I first moved to Brooklyn, I was constantly afraid of getting mugged, raped, or kidnapped, I thought making friends was going to be a breeze, and I was confident I'd land a real job fairly quickly. I was only right about one of those things: landing my first big-girl job. I started working at Allison & Partners, a corporate public relations firm, after one month of living in New York. I knew the corporate world wasn't for me, but I was willing to give it a shot since I needed a job.

In all honesty, I can see how people get sucked into the corporate lifestyle. It was definitely comforting to have a steady income, to have set hours (whether they were followed or not), and to do the same things every day, over and over again. But I wasn't passionate about my work at all and that was eating away at me.

I looked for outlets outside of work to compensate for the fact that I felt my soul was being sucked out of my body. I took African, Caribbean, and hip-hop dance classes, I joined a choir, and I went to the gym every day. But being happy outside of work wasn't sufficient. I wanted my work to actually do something good for the world. I wanted my work to mean something. I'm only 23, and I wasn't willing to squander any more time. I started thinking of a way out. I started thinking back to when I used to work for a cause I was passionate about: poverty in Honduras.

When I lead trips in Honduras, the work is difficult, the days are unpredictable, the hours are long, the heat is draining, and being a leader, tour guide, counselor, motivator, entertainer, and caretaker for 25 college students is not an easy feat. But at the end of the day, I love the kids, I love the community, I love the country, I love the volunteers, and I love the cause. On these trips, my energy is endless and I am constantly shitting rainbows because: 1) I'm in Honduras, 2) I'm ridiculously proud of my volunteers' collective ability to haul ass, and 3) I adore all the village members, from the women who cook for us, the men who work next to us, and the kids who bring smiles to our faces.

After eight months of reminiscing about my rainbow-shitting days, I decided to take a leap of faith, set aside my fears, and go with my gut. I said, "Adios!" to Corporate America right before Thanksgiving, applied to City Year, applied to a million nonprofit and education jobs, and threw up a prayer.

In December, I got accepted into City Year and I landed a job as an after-school counselor at a dual-language school in Sunset Park, Brooklyn. And on New Year's Eve, my dream came true.

Six months after moving to Brooklyn, I joined a local choir called the Brooklyn Community Chorus. I contacted the choir two months into the semester, but they let me join, anyway. At my first rehearsal, I discovered that there was a solo for "Joyful, Joyful," the song Lauryn Hill sings in Sister Act 2. I immediately jumped at the opportunity, auditioned, and the creative director of the choir, Ethan, was auditioning me. I guess we both just found each other at the right time because while I was looking for any and every singing opportunity, he was looking for a singer for a New Year's Eve performance he was organizing. On New Year's Eve, I lived out one of my dreams of singing on stage in front of thousands of people, and it was one of the most surreal, exhilarating experiences of my life. I've never felt so free and so myself in my life. It felt so right to be on stage, behind a microphone, pumping up thousands of people for one of the most exciting times of the year. Ethan is truly my brother from another mother, and his family is my home away from home.

Literally three hours after performing on stage on New Year's Eve, I hopped on a plane to lead service trips in Honduras. I was there for two weeks, met some of the most beautiful souls, reconnected with my Honduran family, reunited with past volunteers, student leaders, and staff, regained some perspective, and got a little sun. SHH is an organization that will always be a part of me, and I, always a part of it. It's the reason I'm where I am today, both figuratively and literally. I owe it to SHH and all the beautiful people I met in Honduras for helping me find myself again.

Shortly after my return from Honduras, Kim Jong Il passed away. I decided to google nonprofits that aid North Korea during this time of political change, and an organization called LiNK (Liberty in North Korea) came up in my search. I discovered that the organization had created a documentary called The People's Crisis and was looking for people all over the nation to host screenings. I decided to reach out and share my interest in hosting a screening in Brooklyn, which I ended up doing on March 23, 2011 at my apartment. I invited my friends, people from work, and people from my choir to watch the documentary and learn about the crisis in North Korea.

Before I discovered LiNK, I felt helpless. I knew the atrocities that were taking place in North Korea, but because the country is so isolated from the rest of the world and the government has total control over its people, I didn't think there was anything I could possibly do to change the lives of the North Korean people. Discovering LiNK made me realize that nothing is ever impossible. LiNK made me realize that if there's a will, there's always a way.

I met three amazing individuals through LiNK: Sarah, Wyatt, and D. They call themselves the Northeast Nomads. They decided that knowing about the humanitarian crisis in North Korea and doing nothing about it was not an option. They dedicated six months of their lives to the cause, and hit the road. They travel to colleges, high schools, and religious institutions, all around the northeast region, showing The People's Crisis. They inform people about the crisis in North Korea and rally them together to do something about it. They live out of a van, sleep in a sleeping bag, carry around a suitcase, all in the name of social justice for the North Korean people. Not only are they doing fantastic things, they are fantastic people. They were in Brooklyn with me for literally less than ten hours and I hauled my ass all the way up to Massachusetts to see them last weekend. They rock my world.

And last but definitely not least, my life hasn't been the same since I met my rockstar roommate, Jenny. She moved into our apartment in January, and has just brought so much light and life into this apartment and into my life. Never would I have thought that a Craigslist roommate could turn out so great, but damn, I totally lucked out! She gave our apartment the love it needed and now, I am totally in love with my pad. We hit the town, get hit on by creeps, come home, and stuff our faces with lime chips and salsa, carrots and hummus, eggs and pasta. She's a white girl from North Dakota who knows all the words to "Shoop" and "Big Pimpin'." She does a mean rendition of "Single Ladies." She's the best storyteller. And whenever I hear "Moves Like Jagger," I will piss my pants at the memory of a dead-sober black man with a purple backpack screaming, "Here come the refrain! Here come the refrain!" on the train. Jenny: you da shit.

It's been one hell of a year. I can only hope that the years to come will be half as exciting, amazing, and unpredictable as my first.

Brooklyn, I love you.

Chi

Give a year. Change the world.

On Friday, I was accepted into City Year New York for the 2012-2013 school year! On Monday, I was offered a position as a counselor at P.S. 24 Brooklyn's after-school program run by The Morningside Center for Teaching Social Responsibility. I'll be ringing in the new year performing in Grand Army Plaza in Brooklyn. And six hours later, I'll be on my way to Honduras to lead two service trips, be reunited with mi familia hondureña, and meet the kids in SHH's recently inaugurated children's home. If I were you, I would be pretty jealous of my life right now.

I think I might have seen a commercial for City Year once on ESPN, but other than that, I had a very vague idea of what City Year was. I was doing research at the A&P office one day, looking for local blogs for one of our clients, and I came across the City Year New York blog. Later that day, I went home and went home and did some of my own research.

For those of you who don't know what City Year is, it's an AmeriCorps program that sends teams of young people, ages 17-24, into low-income community schools, providing the students in those schools with one-on-one or small group attention during and after school hours. City Year corps members serve as tutors, mentors, and role models for these kids who don't have many people to look up to. Our goal is to close the achievement gap, and let our students know that they have a fighting chance to be great and do great. People call it the "domestic Peace Corps."

The best thing that City Year has to offer is the opportunity to inspire and motivate. Over the years, I can think of three teachers who inspired motivated, and shaped me into the person I am today: Miss Quinn, Mr. Howard, and Dr. Kilbourne. 

My sixth-grade teacher, Miss Quinn, nurtured my talents and was my biggest cheerleader. That year, I really felt that the sky was the limit for me, and if it weren't for her reassuring me along the way that I was a great writer, singer, and person, I wouldn't have developed the confidence to pursue the things I love at such a young age, that I've continued to build upon over the years. She wasn't just a teacher, but she was my best friend. I remember meeting her in second grade when my class and her sixth graders were putting on a farewell performance for my second grade teacher, Ms. Sears, and I vividly remember second-grade me thinking, "I am having Miss Quinn as my sixth grade teacher!" 

My junior-year AP Literature teacher, Mr. Howard, taught me to become a better critical thinker, reminded me that I was smart, and cared enough to get to know me as a person. In high school, I didn't really apply myself to things I didn't want to do and seriously lacked motivation. But he saw my potential, knew I could do better, and made me want to be the best. After school or during lunch, I would hang out in his classroom, and we talked about my family, my crazy, Korean mother who "just didn't understand me," boys, friends... pretty much everything most people talk to their moms about, I discussed with Mr Howard. For a man who is the epitome of a sarcastic cynic, he's one of the most compassionate people I have ever met.

My sophomore-year macromarketing teacher, Dr. Kilbourne, inspired me to go to Honduras on a service trip that changed my life forever.

In my opinion, many colleges like Clemson, that are located in the middle of nowhere, are microcosms that breed selfishness, superficiality, and materialism. College for us is, first, a place to party, and second, a place to get an education. Don't get me wrong - I had the time of my life, learned a lot along the way, both from teachers and friends, and made lifelong friendships. But I fell into the trap of wanting to fit in when I had always been proud of being true to who I am. I wanted a David Yurman this, a Tory Burch that, and I have never invested so much of my parents'  money on fashion in my life, regrettably so. 

I took Dr. Kilbourne's macromarketing class because it was a prerequisite, and I had to either take that or Marketing Research. I chose Macromarketing, and on the first day of class, I remember seeing this tall, lanky, long-and-white-haired older gentleman standing in front of the classroom. He wore wiry glasses, a white long-sleeved t-shirt tucked into his light-wash 90s-reminiscent denim jeans, and plain tennis shoes. The books we had to read were about social this and environmental that, and all I thought was, "He is going to bore me to death this semester." It ended up being my favorite class, and he, one of my most inspiring teachers.

Dr. Kilbourne gave me a heavy dose of perspective when I needed it most. He taught me that the amount of stuff I was buying was not only unnecessary, but damaging the world I live in. He taught me that the way we're living our lives so individualistically, completely blind to the rest of the world, needs to change before we do irreparable damage. He taught me that buying nice things will make you temporarily happy, but doing good things will create happiness that will last forever. He taught me that things have started to define people, instead of people's thoughts and actions defining themselves. He planted a fire in me to do better, spend less, and most importantly, to think more. It was because of his class that I started becoming myself again, the person that I had abandoned in order to "fit in." His class was what fueled me to taking that leap of faith and volunteer in Honduras.

The common thread between Miss Quinn, Mr. Howard, and Dr. Kilbourne is this: they believed in me when I didn't. They found me when I had lost myself. To me, these teachers are heroes because they teach to make a difference. They teach to inspire, motivate, and change. They reminded me of my great potential. They reminded me of who I was and the great things I was capable of achieving. They taught me to think differently, act differently, and be the best me I can be. Because of them, and all the other teachers who have inspired me throughout the years, I joined City Year. And I can only hope that my future students will remember me, years down the road, the way I remember Miss Quinn, Mr. Howard, and Dr. Kilbourne.

Give a year. Change the world.

What you're supposed to do is what you love to do.

So much for updating my blog regularly.

I always do this: commit to blogging, keep up with it for a little while, and eventually get too busy, preoccupied, lazy, uninspired. This time, I'm not making any binding or non-binding commitments in the hopes that I will blog regularly on my own accord.

So since my last blogpost of naive euphoria, a lot has happened! A person can really grow up and change a lot in eight months.

The most drastic change I've made so far is quitting my job at Allison & Partners two weeks ago. If you've talked to me since March 2010, you know that my life's path and perspective changed drastically after volunteering in El Progreso, Honduras. Poverty is a personal struggle for me, not because I've lived through it, but because my Honduran family continues to live through it. To go from working in the nonprofit industry solely focused on social change, to the corporate world more focused on personal gain, was a drastic change I naively did not anticipate.

During my internship at Allison & Partners, I learned a lot about myself, life, and my passions. Among many other things, I discovered:

1. I need to be active. I need to interact with people, be on my feet, play with children, dance, sing, build, perform... furiously moving only my fingers as I sit on my ass for nine hours does not count as physical exertion and it definitely does not motivate me to wake up every morning.

2. I am a hard worker. As an intern, I wore many hats: administrative assistant, printer expert, book binder, product stocker, receipt scanner/taper, minutes recorder, notetaker, secretary, brainstormer, magazine delivery girl, mail delivery girl, account coordinator... the list goes on. To be completely frank, I did not want to do 98% of the menial tasks I was responsible for every day, but I did them with a smile on my face and made the tastiest damn lemonade out of the lemons I was given. I know it might be hard to believe, but I actually enjoyed news monitoring because I learned about industries that I never thought I gave two shits about or could ever understand, like technology. If I had never been the sole news monitor for the Dropbox team, I would never have discovered that Steve Jobs is one of my heroes.

3. I love performing. After sitting at my desk for nine hours, I was mentally and physically drained. But there would have to be a tornado between me and my three-hour choir practice or hour-long dance class in order for me to go home directly after work. Pushing myself creatively, musically, and physically was imperative to my happiness, and it's what forced me out of my bed every morning.

In short, Allison & Partners taught me to pursue my dreams, work hard, and always think positively, and I will always be grateful for the experience.

I had thought about quitting for several months before I actually did it, and knew that the corporate world was not meant for me (nor was I meant for it). But I became quite complacent with receiving a steady paycheck, not worrying about money, and living comfortably, so I stayed. Everyone told me not to quit without another job, and I followed that advice until I came to a point where my happiness could no longer be compromised. I had to do what I felt was right, which was to chase my passion for people, music, and creativity, and I had to be prepared to face the consequences of a less predictable life. Although being unemployed and searching for a job in such a terrible economy has not been a walk in the park, I refuse to compromise or settle.

After reading articles and blogs, watching videos and documentaries, and doing some serious soul-searching, I've realized that I was put on this earth to do great things, and I might as well be dead if I'm going to waste my days living comfortably. I've always been a dreamer, and I don't know why I briefly fell into conformity... probably because it's easy, risk-free, and what the majority of the world does. Doing what you love may be a riskier way of living, but no one in the history of the world became great by living a comfortable, risk-free life. Steve Jobs quit college after four months, slept on the floors of his friends' dorm rooms, built Apple out of a garage, and in the end, created software and products that revolutionized technology. He dreamed big, risked big, and in the end, it paid off.

Jaded people say that it's stupid to continue chasing your dreams beyond childhood. They say, "It's time to grow up, get real, and get a real job." Yet most of these people are stuck in these so-called "real" jobs for which they feel hatred, dislike, or worst of all, indifference. I don't understand why people would want to wake up and live mediocre lives fueled by hatred, dislike, or indifference if they had the option, ability, intelligence, and opportunity to do otherwise. If you don't have serious financial binds or family members to care for, what is stopping you from chasing your dreams other than yourself? I realized that the only person standing in my way of chasing my dreams was me. It wasn't my mom, my dad, or all the people who advised me to follow the status quo. I had let other people's thoughts affect and warp my own. So from personal experience, I plead: don't let it happen to you.

If your passion is music, dance, technology, writing... hell, if you get really jazzed about picking up trash because there's so much of it all over our damn city, then do it. Do the things that truly make you feel alive. Live your life so you don't look back on it and regret, asking yourself, "What if?" I know that my life is too important to squander, not helping, not singing, not dancing, not performing, and not innovating.

That's why I joined the Brooklyn Community Chorus. I'll be singing the solo for "Joyful, Joyful" (the Sister Act 2 version) next Friday in the Jingle Bell Jamboree, a holiday concert held in Brooklyn where locals and families gather to watch musical performances. I'm also performing on New Year's Eve and ringing in the new year with Brooklynites who were too lazy to venture into Manhattan and watch Beyonce or Rihanna perform. Making a choice to do the thing I've always loved to do led to other opportunities, and these small successes will continue to drive me to sing. They will serve as reminders to never give up on my dreams.

Leaving my job of comfort, security, and stability has taught me to trust my intuition, do what I love, and never settle... actually, Steve Jobs taught me that posthumously through his Stanford University commencement speech in 2005, but quitting made me understand his words so much more clearly. If you haven't watched it yet, you need to watch it on YouTube now.

If you're confused, in a rut, at a crossroads, or whatever other terms we have for "don't know what the hell I'm supposed to do with my life," first, figure out what you love to do. Do you love to cook, build, sew, paint, fix, farm, organize? What you're supposed to do is what you love to do. And if anyone tries to stray you away from what you love to do, turn that opposition and negativity into fuel towards chasing your dreams even harder.

Hello, Good Morning - Diddy Dirty Money, featuring T.I.

Today was my first day as Allison & Partner's new PR intern at the New York office. I didn't sleep very well last night in anticipation of the big day, and woke up at 6 AM; I work at 9 AM. I didn't get lost en route to the office, which is a clear sign that my sense of direction has improved immensely. I am so proud.

I got a tour of the office, was briefly introduced to everyone, and started my day off with A&P's weekly Monday meetings. All the "A&Pers" go around and give a quick synopsis of their plans for the week, clients they will be working with, and tasks they will be responsible for. The meeting was a "no-nonsense, get the information out, and let's get started five minutes ago" kind of meeting. Everything sounded as foreign as Swahili, but it was exciting to know that I'll be speaking their language soon enough.

I started working on accounts immediately, got familiarized with the media list-building software that A&P uses, and read lots and lots of articles. To be completely honest, I was really overwhelmed for a split second, and thought to myself, "Can I actually do this?" But before I could even answer the question, I was so immersed in my various tasks and excited to have so much responsibility that, by the time I glanced down at my watch, it was already 2 PM and I had forgotten to eat lunch! And trust me: I never forget to eat.

Around 3 o'clock, all of the exhaustion I should have felt from the Angela-filled, sleep deprived weekend wholly unloaded onto my eyelids. I tried to give myself a coffee-induced second wind, but unfortunately, it has resulted in subtle body convulsions, and I don't know how I'll fall asleep tonight. Lesson learned: the ratio of coffee grinds to water is not one (bag) to one (cup). I know that sounds so obvious, but when you're functioning at 30%, you do stupid things.

I have always been a firm believer of that contrived mantra: "Everything happens for a reason." Back in October, I picked up a seasonal position at Madewell in October on a complete whim, after I dragged Jay and Sean into the women's clothing store to buy a pair of earrings. McClain happened to walk into Madewell in November while I was working, we caught up, and she briefly told me about her job at this PR firm. A few weeks later, I emailed her, expressing interest in working in the PR industry. I went to Honduras for a month, and four days after returning, I hopped on the Megabus and interviewed at Allison & Partners. My friend Kelly, who I met on my first trip to Honduras, let me stay with her at her Brooklyn apartment overnight while I was in New York for my interview. Kelly, then, gets a job in Honduras, working for Students Helping Honduras. I, then, decide to move into her apartment and room, without a job and less than a handful of friends in the city. And today was my first day as a full-time PR intern at Allison & Partner's New York office. As hackneyed as that saying may be, it consistently proves to reign true.

My brain is slowly melting. It's time for bed. Another update soon to come, hopefully by the end of the week!

I love loving work. I love McClain Bell. I love Kelly Ryan. I love New York.

c.k.

Sidebar: "Hello, Good Morning" is significant because I played it this morning to amp myself up for my first day of big-girl work. Also, no pictures because I don't have the mental strength to google-image photos to go along with text. Sorry I'm not sorry.

Celebration - Cool & The Gang

It is seriously time to celebrate good times because...


I GOT A FULL-TIME PAID INTERNSHIP AT ALLISON & PARTNERS!!! Allison & Partners is a PR firm that has offices all over the country, and a variety of clients, from Johnny Rockets to L'Oreal. My friend McClain works in the DC office, and she recommended me to the New York office. I have been persistently following up with them since my interview in January, and it's finally paid off! They finally have space in the office to bring on an intern, and that intern is ME! I can't even contain my excitement!!! I'm well on my way to having a big-girl job!

Another reason to celebrate: today was my day off. It didn't really feel like I had last weekend off because my friends visited from DC, which was also one, long celebration. It was just nice to have some peace and time to myself, as well as some time to run errands.

I just realized I haven't mentioned it in my blog yet, but for Lent, I decided to give up meat. That being said, this morning, I made a "frat sandwich" - Carlton's fraterminology - for breakfast, with a veggie sausage patty and it was honestly so delicious. Don't hate on the fake meat until you try it. It's got all of the flavor, and none of the guilt. Morning Star should totally pay me and use that as their tagline.

I didn't give up meat because I indulge in it. I actually don't eat it all that often. However, sometimes I subconsciously eat it, and if it's the only good option, I'll eat it. I haven't eaten meat for the past three weeks, and lately, I have become so cognizant of what I'm putting into my body. Without it in my system, I don't get indigested, which has always been a huge obstacle for me. I also feel more energetic and I feel better, overall: mentally, morally, and physically.

I've been thinking about going vegetarian since last March, when I went to Honduras and saw chickens happily running around the hotel in the morning, and a grilled chicken thigh on my dinner plate that evening. It just seemed wrong that I was playing with the little chicks, and then eating their mother's leg for dinner. So when I got back from Honduras, I reduced my meat intake in honor of those hotel chickens.

For Lent, I took it a step further and cut myself off, cold turkey, pun intended. I thought this would be a good way to try out vegetarianism, and see if it's something I can or want to do. So far, it hasn't been very difficult. I did crave wings the other day - which I don't even like - when Carlton and Jay got them last Saturday, but other than that, I haven't missed meat in my diet. I'm so glad I decided to give up meat for lent because it forces me to cook, which I rarely do! Plus, eating out all the time in New York breaks the wallet. I make sandwiches, salads, omelettes, pasta... just call me Chef Chi.

I work at Madewell tomorrow through Monday. Oh, happy day. Sarcasm aside, my A&P internship starts in two weeks, and I'm thrilled about it, which is so refreshing and relieving. It'll be nice having some consistency in my life, for a change.

This weekend, I insist that you get yourself a drink (or four) and celebrate my employment at Allison & Partners! Tootles!

c.k.

NOTE: I wrote this at 2 AM, and I fell asleep before posting.