Goodbye Youngcheon

Two years have elapsed since I've come to this crazy place. 

I remember how I felt, driving up to the airport curb so early in the morning, hugging my mom and brother goodbye, filled with such anxiety about what I would encounter here. I had no clue what the next two years would bring; if I had had some idea, I never would have imagined what I crammed in during this time. No idea that I would be in a band that headlined a festival and got an interview in a magazine. No idea that I'd act in a film that would go on to win two international awards. No idea that I would be a model and win some award for that and be on television. No idea that I could organize a One Act play festival and write so much original stuff. There are so many more things that have happened to me that wouldn't have been possible anywhere else.

Is it over? 

The truth is, I've gone through a lot of changes in the last six months, too many to possibly describe on a computer screen. Change is incredibly hard, and scary. I have only a vague idea of what the future will bring. As of this afternoon, I am unemployed for the first time in over ten years. I neglected to find other work after my public school contract ran out. I'll remain here for a while and try to find temporary work before leaving Korea for the last time around Christmas. I have the characters and the setting figured out, but beyond that, time will tell. 

As for the last day with my kids, I have some mixed emotions. Of course there are students that I won't miss very much, but there are ones that I will miss tremendously. They gave me a stack of goodbye notes, some of which were crude and hilarious, others shockingly honest and heartbreaking. I forced myself to believe over the last two years that there was nothing I could say that could possibly change these kids' lives, that there was nothing I could do to really alter their points of view. Somehow, though, I did manage to get through to them, at least a little bit. 

I leave with a quote:

"Goodbyes should be hard. They should get stuck in the throat, weigh heavy on the heart and kick you in the gut. An easy goodbye is a mark of wasted time. Farewells that roll off the tongue without pause and reflection means something wasn't done right. The moment wasn't seized. Life wasn't lived. 

A parting should threaten one's peace. It should cause, at the minimum, a moment of agonizing doubt. 'Should I leave? Is this right?' There should be at least one person left behind that makes you wonder, 'How will I ever exist without this person in my life?' Some circumstances are better viewed in the rear-view mirror, but not people."