Offering a helping hand?

It's been a bizarre start to the year. Three seperate incidents. All very irregular occurrences.

It started when I was going to hang out with my bestie at the local mall.

1. While debating between getting bbt or starbys, we encountered a middle aged man lying flat on the ground. We quickly went over to the man, who was being attended by another passerby. Another witness told us that the man suddenly collapsed by the support column, and hit his head "really" hard on the concrete tiled floor. The fallen man reeked of booze, yet it was only 5pm in the evening. We asked some questions, but it was clear that the man was not sober. We were also afraid of him moving up, despite his claim that he was okay. In his condition, he may not know what's best for himself; besides, we wanted him checked to see if he had displaced or fractured anything from the big fall.We called 911 to get the EMS on scene, as well as the mall security. My friend and I waited outside on Yonge Street to flag down the EMS. However, it took the first response crew, the firefighters 20 minutes to arrive on scene. At which point, we were dismissed by the crew and we finally walked through the subway tunnel towards starbys.

* This made me wonder; how prepared am I for emergencies and dealing with such situations? What if, God forbid, the situation was worse and it required me to make more drastic actions? Would I have been ready to make it? It certainly easy to look and predict your action, but it's another when you're in the situation. JUst food for thought...*

2. On the way to starbys, we walked by a homeless man in his 30s. His name is Roger. Politely declining his request for money, we offered to buy Roger a sandwich instead. We walked to the nearest Loblaws, where he chose a sandwich. As we lined up to pay, my friend decided that he will cover the costs and gave the homeless man more than enough money to cover the sandwich. Then we bid farewell, as the man gratefully thanked us.

As we left, I couldn't help but be bothered by his body reeking alcohol. I asked my friend, "Hey, maybe you should've bought the sandwich for him. It's never good to just give away the money."

"I;m sure it's fine. He was in line to buy it. I am sure we can trust him."

I dunno," I said pessimistically.

Curious, we went back to Loblaws a minute after and asked the cashier if she had seen the man. The cashier told us that the man dropped the sandwich and took off with the money. We suspected he went upstairs to the LCBO.

*Morally speaking, you are compelled to help people in need. Yet sometimes it;s so hard to, or the situation goes out of control. As Christ followers, we are called to love our neighbours and the needy; and if the appropriate action is to offer them food or even a gentle smile sometimes when you encounter them, sometimes a good action may cause more harm...like this one, maybe. Also, just walking along a downtown core area, you would pass by many of these ppl. It would be quite unreasonable to buy a  sandwich for everyone of them and every day you pass them too. How does this implicate our moral and social obligation? Somertimes, it's so hard to love. But Christ did just that. He loved the unlovable. "By this we know love, that he laid down his life for us, and we ought to lay down our lives for the brothers." Just food for thought.*

3. Last week, in the middle of the night, noises across the street at the Laurier residences woke me up. At first the shouts pierced my dream. It was one shriek, the scream of a girl, that jolted me awake. It got to the point where I crawled out and peeked out through the blinds. There I saw, a group of about 20 people, split into two groups, shoving and throwing insults back and forth. Amongst that crowd, a girl screamed primarily at a guy. I couldn't see her, but I knew she was there. I ran down to try and wake my roommate up, but he was asleep. I was scared because the brawl looked out of control, and I can't go out and handle it.  I decided to observe and call 911 if it gets out of hand. Luckily, they dispersed themselves after 30 minutes without further incident.

That shriek still haunts me though. Because it had a sense of urgency in her voice. It was so terrifying and chilling, as it sounded so helpless. Yet, it was so blurry, and I was fully conscious, and I didn't seem to see anything bad happen outside. But what if it did? What if something happened to that girl and I witnessed it?

*To this day it still haunts me. As a citizen, what is moral obligation in this situation? Going there to face 20 guys is just dumb. But what if the situation got out of control? I know I would've called 911 then for sure. But what if while waiting for the cops to show up, something bad happened and I just waited for it to happen? How ready am I for such emergencies? Just food for thought as I approach 20. *

Flashback: Grade 8

Lately, I've began reading my old journal entries, as I reflect on my years of childhood. I've pulled this one out because it is a reflection I did in Grade 8.

Note: grammatical errors are left "as is" to retain its original content. Otherwise, it will be denoted in brackets.
----

8-2
Ms. Mongillo's homeform class
September 7, 2005

Dear me,

I am finally in Grade 8! I've anticipated this year ever since the first day I was at Claude Watson. It seems lke I had just started, but I still can't digest the fact that I'm already in Grade 8. This (fact) just struck me when teachers kept saying Grade 8 (over and over again). It's unfortunate that my days at Claude Watson will soon come to an end, as our last year at this school draws shorter and shorter as I write. And so life in elementary school ends.

So much has happened and had evolved at Claude Watson. When I was in grade 4, we were the toddlers of the school. I remember the first moment that I had (when I) followed the rest of my class into the gym, and that moment was unforgettable. It was the beginning of half a decade at CWSA. My skills have greatly improved as the years went on. When I first came to Claude, I was embarassed because Ms. Szot had invited me to go to String Orchestra. I accepted the invitation and went to the first rehearsal. However, I was only in grade 1 violin and when I first took a look at the piece, Die Meistersinger, I secretly snuck back into class because I had no idea how to shift or do fancy techniques on the violin like in the piece. Over the years, I've improved dramatically and I couldn't have done it without Claude Watson! I've learned a lot more than I would've had if I remained at a regular school. This school has helped me develop throughout the last five years.

"The future is bright if we do not forget the past" is a very famous quote, and I will never forget what I've learned and explored at Claude. All my classes --whether it's in the arts or academics -- has shaped me and helped build for a strong future. At the present, I've got a lot of things that I'm looking forward to, like Monocliffs, and Gosfield! I truly hope that someone would cancel their Monocliffs trip so that we would get out of the waiting list, allowing us to go on the trip most Claudies had waited for since grade 4! After all these years of waiting, it doesn't seem fair that we cannot go on a trip that every other eight grader had went on, but I will accept it. We never went to annual trips like the textile museum in grade 4 or the McMichael Gallery in grade 8. We missed Gosfield last year, and maybe Monocliffs this year. (Unfortunately), the new school will not benefit us because the construction had been delayed since grade 4! But I'm hoping this year will be an unforgettable year.

Another thing that I am anticipating this year is playday!If the weather's cooler this summer, we might get to be captain and lead our squad to victory, or at least try to win!

With time passing by at the speed of life,'ve gradually developed a zeal for learning. I remember when Ms. Fleming first started to teach us in grade 4, I had a very restricted limit of what I enjoy learning, but with the teachers' support and my personal interests sparking up, I have learned a lot more and explored deeper into my hobbies, like researching, doing cartographical work, and learning more geography and mineralogy. Now that I'm in grade  8, I will have to set new goals and challenges.

My biggest goal this year is to dig into the world of environmental studies and maintain an 86% average for the school year. Personally, I would say that my biggest challenge is to grow taller, because most people are taller than me, and in sunday school, most people are taller than me by a head!My last wish for the year is to get myself more active in school activities and have an excellent grad!

Your friend,

Myself
-----

One August Night.

The image still haunts me inside my head. Tonight is one of those nights when it is back, a haunting reminder of life and death. The goosebumps and chills I get from the unforgettable image recurs occasionally. One August night, my sister and I were driving back from fellowship. We were both tired and couldn’t wait to get home. We pulled off the highway onto Leslie St. We notice a raccoon not much bigger than a squirrel, probably a baby, crossing in the middle of the road far ahead. Suddenly, a car behind us stepped on the gas and went ahead. The baby coon, oblivious to the speeding vehicle, slows down, and takes a look, right in the path of the car. As I looked on with horror, a sickening feeling churned my stomach, as I anticipated what was to happen. The car sped past, covering, and uncovering the raccoon. I couldn’t help but watch closely. As the baby came into view, it was on its back, involuntary spasms all over its body, as it jolts and jerk around in the middle of the road. It was sickening to watch, as I stared out the window, the raccoons cry for help muted by the tight suction of the window. I felt so helpless.. I thought the raccoon was just frightened beyond belief, filled with adrenaline, for I was sure the raccoon was under the car frame and not run over. My sister cried out, and asked me if we should stop. I pondered, and thought against it. For one, we would be stopping in the middle of the road, and walking across it to pick up a raccoon. On top of that, how would we be able to help it anyways? And aren’t many wild raccoons rabid? 

After what seemed to be a rational thought process, I advised my sister against it, as I thought I saw a car coming behind us, and we don’t want to get killed ourselves. So we drove on, glancing back at the helpless raccoon. Then a second car ran passed it. I turned away. It sickened me. 

My sister rationed that we could’ve saved the raccoon, and probably rescue it to the side of the road. I was lost and grievous. Even if most people consider a pest, animals are special to me, and there is always a soft spot in me for cute small animals. Now, did I just voluntarily help kill an innocent animal, a baby one? 

The thought bothered me all night, as the image of the crying raccoon remains in my head. Its appeal for someone, anyone to help rescue it from the brink of death.

Was there enough time to save the coon? Was I right in telling my sister to move on?

To this day, I still remember the baby raccoon’s feeble struggle, jolting around in fright. Helpless.

And all it really wanted to do was cross the road. It was probably hungry.

Library: More than a Learning Institution [Save the TPL]

The unprecedented and deep cuts to many Toronto social services are incredible. But none other then the attacks on the Toronto Public Library. I remember the days we would cram for finals at Central Library and all 6 floors would be filled with familiar faces, studying (and slacking). The library goes beyond hitting the books. It is the heart of a community, one of the last public spaces left where friends and neighbours gather together. Unfortunately, the service is being endangered by city council. 

October 17, 2011

Dear Councillor David Shiner,

            Thank you for representing the citizens of Willowdale in Ward 24 over these many years. Currently I am a 19-year old university student in your ward, and having followed municipal politics for a few years, I believe you have been a strong voice for us in council. I would like to strongly voice my concerns and firm opposition to the recent cuts to the Toronto Public Library. Having immigrated to Canada at the age of 6 and growing up in Willowdale ever since. The Toronto Public Library is the heart and soul of this city and it serves as one of the last community hubs and meeting place that unites seniors, adults, students and children from all demographics. The Toronto Public Library is the busiest and biggest urban library system in the world - incomparable to say the least, and its world-class facilities as well as its excellence in quality of service are what us Torontonians are proud of. I am strongly urging you and the rest of city council to reconsider the budget cuts and the reduction in staff and service hours as the library is a vital part of most Torontonians’ life.

            In fact, over 1.2 million Torontonians frequent the library in their weekly life, and KPMG surveyed that 73% of residents use the library in some way. The library is a fundamental public institution that provides basic access for its residents to literature, videos, books, social programs and entertainment. It serves as a multi-purpose facility that serves all types of people, not only the book lovers. Reducing its services and staff would be detrimental to the quality of life that we are blessed to have in this great country.

            Canada is a nation that stands proud for its diversity, along with its freedoms and multiculturalism. Today, this country is built upon the incorporation of many newcomers to this country, and I know the library is a strong reason for their success. As a proud Chinese-Canadian citizen, I arrived in grade 1, with minimal English skills. My parents and my sister brought me to the North York Central Library daily and it was through the time I spent reading books there that I learned English so quickly. My experience only resonates the similar experiences of thousands of new Canadians. Entering a new life in Canada, the library is the first place these people go to in order to learn English, as it provides limitless ESL resources, classes and convenience. Literacy is what helps immigrants learn, build up confidence and find jobs, through which the Toronto Public Library is able to support. Reducing service hours, cutting staff and resources will immensely impact our newcomers’ ability to integrate into our society.

Not only is the library a place to learn for immigrants, it is the place where parents introduce toddlers to their first book. The success of this nation’s future can easily be determined by the investment into our children. Now, it may be argued that books can be easily bought at the local bookstore if residents wants to read, but the endless variety of materials at the TPL provides more exposure to our kids and allow the parents to foster their child’s imagination. Kids learn the importance of reading and the library is where a child gets to grow in knowledge and be creative. In addition, the TPL also supports child literacy through its many interactive programs, like the Summer Reading Club, Ready for Reading, Storytimes, and Dial-A-Story. For me, the library was where I grew up and learned, having adventures in mysteries and classic fairy tales. The service reduction would severely impact the city’s kids.

            Besides kids, the TPL is a central hub for our seniors to drop by to borrow a quick read or enjoy programs such as computer literacy classes or book clubs. Closer to home, I have worked at the Bayview neighbourhood library for almost 3 years, and many of the senior citizens in our wards quite enjoy dropping in and borrowing dozens of books to be enjoyed during their leisure time. The Bayview branch has grown quickly and tremendously to be the busiest neighbourhood branch in North York and it has taken many years until recently that an increase in staff and service hours were introduced to meet the exponential usage of the library by our residents. Cutting services would be reversing what the neighbourhood has demanded.

            Willowdale boasts a healthy population of seniors, but also a vibrant young generation of students. As a student of Earl Haig SS, most of my friends and I would spend many hours a week studying and borrowing research materials at NYCL, Bayview and Fairview. It provides us with a quiet place to study, to learn, to further enhance our knowledge and also to relax. Many library users enjoy checking out the huge selection of DVDs, CDs, graphic novels, audiobooks or a good ol’ paperback for leisure. In a time where our economic condition is not stable, many more residents use the library as a source of inexpensive entertainment, family time. The TPL also supports a big collection of materials from over 60 languages and is important to the diverse population of our city. I have only touched the surface of the pool of educational and cultural services and resources that the TPL provides to its residents. There are many more usage of the library that garners mention, such as shows, concerts, museum passes, guest speakers, bookmobile and many more.  

            All these services are made possible only by the friendly librarians, public service assistants and pages that run the programs, helps the patrons, offer suggestions and maintain the library collection. Without the staff and investment into our libraries, we would not have the best public library system in the world.

I would strongly ask that council reconsider the proposals to cut the staff and reduce the hours. The collection spending can be trimmed, but I believe the staff and service cuts would leave a potent effect on the literacy of our fellow citizens and would prohibit the freedom and convenient access to learning that is key to an innovative and better city. Willowdale is a place that I’ve grown to love. As a young citizen, I would love to start my family here in the future. I would like to see the libraries to be an active part of my family’s life, just as my parents used to bring me as a kid.

             I am a proud Torontonian and I would like to see us to build a great city that foster innovation, creativity and possibility. The Toronto Public Library plays an integral role in building the foundation of a good standard of living in Canada. There are many places in the world that do not have access to literacy as we do in Canada. We are greatly blessed to have such access to literacy, which provides people with freedom and a future.

I understand our city is going through a tough financial situation at the moment, but I believe this library is too vital to be reduced. I strongly echo my friends and neighbours’ support of the library, and we are willing to pay more taxes to maintain the current quality and level of service. I agree that there are efficiencies that can be found. For example, 400 copies of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows is unnecessary.

 The TPL is a community hub that unites residents of all ages, whether to use the net, to read, to research, to relax or socialize, it is an essential public institution that is too valuable to diminish.

Again, I thank you for representing the voices of Willowdale.

Sincerely,

Abraham Yuen

Willowdale Citizen

Demonstrating Excellence, Celebrating Achievements.

The above acronym has been an active part of my life for the past 5 years. The four letters signified a time of passion, competitiveness, adventures as well as storms and controversies. But frankly, it is time to move on....

DECA has molded my life in so many ways imaginable. Like athletes, there is also a time to hang the jersey and call it a career. After 5 years of competition, training and teaching, I've decided not to renew my membership. Firstly, the thrill isn't there anymore. I've had my fair share of excitement, from the local school competitions to making it to provincials to repping Canada in the International competition in Atlanta. From dealing with harassments to drama to the adrenaline filled moment of hearing your name and going on stage, to interacting with a red-headed scary lady....DECA had been something that I loved no matter what.

There's so much more I want to say, but I don't want to bore you with my memories of DECA.

Certainly I am nostalgic as I look back at the fun and not so fun times (drama) of DECA...but the time has come for me to open a new chapter of my life.

Thank you.

Home Sweet Home!

Oh, how I love you, Toronto! <3

Oh, What a Year!

Reflections: A Year in (Brief) Review

1st year done, second year to come...

I woke up this morning to a grey, ominous sky casting over the sleepy suburban neighborhood outside my bedroom window. What shadows and darkness for a morning sky would hopefully not be a foreshadowing of things to come in this brand new school year. This morning was my trip back to Waterloo. It would be the first of many commutes to come as I embrace the dull visuals of rolling fields and the familiar urban landscape that would too often be painting over my windshield. Looking out into the overcast, a wave of nostalgia hit me as I realized the significance of the occasion. Today marked a full year since I moved into UW Place, Eby Hall 2/3 with my roomies, Kysen and George.  Oh, how it feels like it was only yesterday when we came out of high school as brand new froshies, apprehensive yet excited at what the new future holds for us at Waterloo. Now, a year has past. And what a year it has been...

Can you believe it, we are heading into the second year of our university! Frosh week felt like light years ago! I remember the moment I first arrived at UWP, moving in my stuff. As I reached out for the doorknob, a tingle of anticipation excited me of the journey to come. I opened my door, and found that I got placed into a small room the size of a prison cell. Maybe smaller. Nevertheless, it was my room, in which I had grown into loving the tight, but comfortable space; and home was what I had called it for 8 months of my university life. It was certainly to be full of adventures to come, as I was to room with two of my closest friends from high school! It was very special indeed, a day I had previsioned for many days, and even years. It all traces back to a bored day in grade 7 french class. My best friend Kysen and I had written yes and no on the sides of an eraser. We began to toss the "magic" eraser and asked it questions. Evidently, after tossing the eraser on the first try, it had predicted six years earlier that Kysen and I were to go to the same university, Waterloo, be best friends in university, AND be roomies.

(L to R) George, me, Kysen

Indeed, there I was, that first day of rez, an outcome of the unbelievable predictions of eraser flipping by two bored junior high kids! Life was going to be good. During orientation week, we were like hyper bulls, craving for the crazy excitement of this new environment, with only nightfall keeping us from jumping over the pen to get out there and explore further. What would university life be like, we kept asking? I think social and media influences really depicts college life in a stereotypical way. It was after the third day that a tinge of fear and regret swept over me. After three days, college life wasn't all it appeared to me. The lost of the leash and newfound freedom was quickly going out of control all around. I had heard and seen stories of raves and parties, drunk people puking, and an overall euphoric atmosphere that was pushing the limits of the order of society. Even I had caved in, looking door to door for parties with my friends, only to be denied.

~knocks on door~
* Boy opens, glares at us
Boy: (reeking of beer) Hey guys, there are some Asian boys outside, what should we do with them?
*inaudible responses from inside
~Boy slams door~

At that point university appeared to be a wild experience, full of lawlessness and yes, drunkenness. Those first couple of weeks were accompanied by slight loneliness and days of missing home. However, brighter days were indeed ahead, and to tell you all the crazy stories in one blog would be unfair to your eyes and my poor fingers. But all I can say is, with my first year finished and under my belt, a look back certainly highlights many of the good, the funny and the not so good that happened! So much had happened this year! I met the coolest neighbours in Eby 207, had some great fun rez events with my floormates, Frosh Cell, DG, CCF (oh the benefits of being a frosh! i sure miss them!), finding a home at Creekside, exploring Waterloo, and especially growing spiritually.

With the fun, also came the hardships: watching my academics plunge, relationship heartbreaks, arguments with my roomies, my health, trying to support a friend on drugs and family.

Many of these items had hurted me physically, emotionally and spiritually, but it is through learning from these hardships that we become a better person.

Maybe the biggest lesson I've learn is that love can hurt. Loving someone is also very hard. I also can't love someone if I don't love God, because God is love. What it means to be the man in a relationship is probably one of the hardest to do (properly) and especially one that glorifies God. It can certainly pack a sting. Moving on from it, I think boys, though mucho on the outside, may take even longer to heal and are actually quite sensitive beings on the inside. That's just one of the many things I've learned and am still learning to become a better person.

Emotions often get the better of me. And often, I tend to worry a lot. I think it comes from my meticulous side that is always so detail-oriented. I was thinking and analyzing. Over-thinking often leads to worrying. This year, I hope to do less of that and rejoice. Like in Matthew 6:25 onwards says, do not worry about your life, for the Father will take care of you. Can anyone of you add one hour to your life by worrying?" I have to fully understand that, as much as I love to be in control of things, I can't and I am not, and sometimes, I need to be still and submit to him, fully.  

"But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.  Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own." Matthew 6:33b-34

Maturing takes time. It certainly requires patience. It also requires perseverance. As the second year quickly dawns upon us, I sincerely hope that my maturity will continue to be nurtured by God, and that no matter what happens, my faith will stand upon a solid foundation, unwavering in the second year storms ahead.

"Trust in the LORD with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to him, and he will make your paths straight."Proverbs 3:5-6