To the late Stephen Hampton

Hey dude,

I didn't know you all too well, but I just wanted to say that you were on my mind. The L-rd woke me up last night to pray for your family.

The few times that we talked, you always seemed to be thinking. I had the feeling that you were a smart cookie. And remember when we met before Highroad and tried to find Stephy K together? Then you sang for her because it was her birthday.

I do wonder sometimes why G-d brings home the ones that seem to have so much potential. I think you fell into that category. It would have been neat to see where you would have gone and what you would have done... but He saw it fit to take you home. That's a bonus for you, but a bummer for the rest of this world.

Dude, I'll miss your crazy hair and lanky self.

As Pac said, "Keep it poppin up there." I'll see you in a few years (G-d willing.)

Sincerely,
Chuck

Adjustment

I’ve never had a problem standing out in the States. When I was little, I could never fully blend in no matter how hard I tried. But when I came back to China where I looked like everyone else, I would always try to stand out. I relished the attention I got when I spoke my immaculate English in public, or when my Nikes garnered envious glances from the kids in school uniforms. In China, I was the American, and I strutted around thinking that I was better than the rest of them.

In psych, we talk about the powerful effects of environmental cues on our actions. Our surroundings act to bring back things like memories, feelings, and habits that we had forgotten about.

As I sat sweltering on a bus, cramped and surrounded by, well, lots of Chinese people, I didn’t find it surprising that those on the mainland are sometimes described by non-mainland Chinese as being “tu,” which literally means “dirt” or “soil,” and connotes a certain amount of a crudeness or baseness in their actions and manner of carrying oneself. I can see how that would come about when one’s existence and actions seem so insignificant. Sitting there, I felt like another face in the crowd. I felt de-individualized. How does one hold onto a sense of identity and continue to value people as individuals when the sheer numbers threaten to overload our ability to care? How do I view people as the Father views them, when my relatives seem to have their wisdom in telling me not to even look at those who beg on the streets? When my friends at school spend their Saturdays down in Chicago’s skid row, how am I supposed to just look the other way?

I can no longer flaunt my English or boast in my Nikes. It’s just a hunch, but I don’t think that’s the point of HNGR.

I'm in Guangzhou right now. I'll be heading up to Tianjin in two days.