The Year of Living Scared

When I worked at Design & Type in San Francisco, the company took us on a river rafting trip. It was my first time down the American River with wild rapids. I had a blast. Now, fast-forward 10 years. A huge group of us from work at GTS in Commerce went river rafting. That time I was scared.

As a young adult I admired my friends who traveled to far away lands. I had one scare in Tijuana at the age of 16 that altered any wanderlust. I went with the church youth group leaders, along with another youth, to scope out a possible location for a work camp. When we were at the border they pulled us aside, and even with an American driver’s license, it took much convincing that I was an American citizen.

Not knowing the language has always scared me. But this year, to celebrate my 50th birthday, of all places, I went to the place of my birth. I made an attempt to learn the Korean language, but, lost interest after the sixth class when I realized, even if I could read Hangol, I wouldn’t know the meaning. I did, however learn how to say, “annyeong haseyo!” with a slight bow.

Learning sign language all over again has been quite scary. I’m scared to talk to Deaf people. I’m scared to sign with Hearing people who know ASL. I know my ASL is more Contact sign (a way to "bridge" the gap between native ASL speakers and native English speakers).

To step it up a notch, after taking ASL2 and Conversational ASL at Pierce College, I enrolled in the ASL/EIP (American Sign Language/Interpreter Education Program). I just completed five classes (11 units) this Fall semester. I loved every class but I was also scared the entire semester.

2010 was the year that “do one thing every day that scares you,” by Eleanor Roosevelt, was felt every day.

Pumpkin Pie

In a moment of pure desperation, I picked up a pumpkin pie while cruising the aisle at TJs. I knew it was pathetic. Nothing tastes better than homemade. I don’t cook.

For many years, my birthday and pumpkin pie were synonymous. That’s because my birthday landed on Thanksgiving every now and then. Even if it didn’t, it was celebrated on Thanksgiving.

I can still see the impressions the birthday candles made in the pie. But, at some point in time, I rebelled. I remember complaining (gasp) that I had to have pumpkin pie every year for my birthday. The following year appeared an angel food cake with whipped cream frosting.