Growing Up

Today, just before running out the door, I downloaded Copeland's Appalachian Spring onto my mp3 player. I opened the door in a rush to get to the bus station and I was stopped silly. It's been cold for as long as I remember (since November) and even just last week the Korean winter dumped a load of snow onto Masan's streets. But today it was sunny, warm, and smelled of spring. Of course all the trees are dead, but it was WARM! For the first time in months I took off my black coat and stepped outside, feeling quite naked in my sweater and sports coat.

Every spring I look forward to this feeling: a renewed energy, a sense of space, free from the cramped cabin fever of winter, brilliant sunshine. I just want to rush outside, roll in some grass and listen to music with the windows wide open. Unfortunately there's still a bite of cold in the air, and there's no grass, as it's all dead from the winter.

As I got on the bus headed for Pusan, I started listening to Copeland's Appalachian Spring and the music hot me so hard. Copeland's music is distinctly American. Whenever I listen to this piece I always get a sense of wide open spaces and nature waking up from winter's slumber. I see rushing brooks, ice melting off trees and still pools of water deep within the forests. I felt a longing, a pain for home. This music takes me back to the woodlands of upstate New York and as I looked out onto the dead, brown Korean mountains, I thought of all the places I've been over the past eight years. Home has always been a suffocating place for me, but it's where I grew up, and I can't help but feel attached. I miss going on long walks trough the damp forest by my house, adventuring by the creeks and waterfalls, the open rolling grassy hills and the tall shady pine trees.

And it hit me suddenly how much I've changed.

In all my years of 'finding myself' I haven't once thought of the word 'maturity'. I recall coming back from my amazing London experience recharged, confident, and grounded. Carole remarked: "You got manly. You've really grown up." I didn't think much about her comment then, but a year and a half later it finally makes sense.

Returning back to the Hamilton bubble after my London experience was harsh. I felt trapped after spending months wandering the streets of London and nearby cities. I managed the first semester of senior year very well, but I fell apart the second semester: my fear and insecurity about my post-grad future dragged me down.

But I LET it drag me down. I look back and realize how immature I acted. This time in Korea has been exactly what I needed because it has re-done what London did for me two years ago: It forces me to behave like an adult. It forces me to challenge my current identity. Like a baby, I am re-learning how to interact with people, all over again. How does one make friends? How does one interact in society? How does one behave in a professional environment? Working and living in a different culture has given me the perspective to evaluate how I interact with people; rather than a fish stuck in a bowl (as I felt in America), I feel able to watch myself inside the bowl.

Here’s a quote from a book I’m reading called “The Learning Gap”, a study comparing education in Asian and American elementary schools:

Meaning often emerges through contrast. We do not know what it means to work hard until we see how others work. We do not understand what children can accomplish until we see what other children the same age do. So it is with cultures. Cross-cultural comparisons can help us discover characteristics of our own culture that we fail to notice because we are so familiar with them. Through such comparisons, our perceptions become clearer and sharper. (The Learning Gap, 16).

And I would add that not only can cross-cultural comparisons help us understand our own culture, but ourselves, the individual, as well.