To ease rush hour traffic, the school has to station five or
six teachers to help getting kids faster out of cars. I didn't
know, but it must be required by city code. Teachers
Appreciation week, I signed up to spend 25min each morning
doing just that. We lined up along the transit area, opened
the car doors, and took the kids' bags to speed up things.
It was interesting that although the school consisted of
mostly Indian and Asian kids, demographically, few volunteers
were Indian (I saw one or two Indian dads one day). I
wondered why. Did most Indian parents see this work as
belonging to only the shudras in their caste system? For
people who see the world hierachically, what a letdown
America must be? What would the teachers feel everyday,
having to provide this service for families often ostensibly
wealthier than theirs? If I were a teacher, would I be
depressed for my financial inferiority or feel strong and
can smile from my heart?
I noticed other things that I would miss had I not volunteered.
Almost every driver stared at a screen, some nicest-looking
cars had the messiest interiors, and the most beatiful flowers
for teachers could be from a lovely girl whose dad came in
late and parked his car blocking the path.
Our gimbap was a big hit. The parent-provided lunch on Thu
mostly was store-bought. Not only was ours home-made (we
didn't even sign up for bringing lunch) but its quality won
praises from Koreans such as Ms. Kay and Ms. Ho. Tim was the
driver this time and of course I had to gather everything and
get up to make it at 5:00am. It was worth making him proud.
