JulieLeung.com: a life told in tidepools

Note: As soon as I saw Song of the Azalea I wanted to read it, so when Joann, one of the two authors and a friend I’ve met through blogging, offered to send me a copy to review, I accepted!



Song of the Azalea by Kenneth Ore with Joann Yu is not a book to read before bedtime, for two reasons. First, the images in the opening chapters are intense and painful, as one might expect in a description of war and occupation. I tried to read snippets in the moments before I fell asleep but instead I found myself waking in the morning grateful to be alive in America today, the stories of Kenneth Ore and his family in WWII China haunting me. I didn’t have any nightmares but I wouldn’t have been surprised if I had.

However, the other reason not to read Song of the Azalea before bedtime is that it was difficult to stop and sleep. Not only was the plot suspenseful but the writing itself was like dessert, lyrical and smooth, simple and sweet, despite the harsh times it described. The glimpses the book gave, both external and internal, into the realities of daily life in China sixty years ago, and the inner passions of a young man growing up in poverty and wartime fascinated me. For Mother’s Day, I indulged myself by spending the afternoon with a book. I picked up Song of the Azalea and didn’t close the covers until I was done, hours later. I had to know what would happen to Mr. Ore and his family.

Years have passed since I last studied China’s politics and policies and even then my intellectual knowledge of its history was limited. However, I do know now personally, through relationships, that aspects of Mr. Ore’s story were shared by many people who lived during that time, in China and elsewhere. His book was an excellent first person account, starting with the arranged marriage of his mother and then picking up the story again in 1941 Hong Kong when he was a boy. The details shared, including the adjectives and phrasing, painted vivid pictures, especially for this American mind.

Song of the Azalea educated me. It is the kind of book I will keep for decades because I want my children to read it. I’ll incorporate it into our curriculum. Walking in Mr. Ore’s shoes, the reader could understand why he considered Communism and also feel the pain of the family’s situation and the sacrifices he made for his beliefs. It’s a story of cult and courage, of idealism and ideas, of beauty, beast and betrayal.

This Memoir of a Chinese Son spoke to me about the power of poverty. It also spoke to me of idealism and dreams. Reading it, I realized how we as people often become attached to the institution we believe will implement our hopes, rather than remaining devoted to the ideals themselves. We may join an organization because it fits our vision, yet often the organization may supplant our passion for its own benefit, leaving us feeling unfulfilled and used. As I put the book down, I thought about what it means to sacrifice for an ideal. Mr. Ore’s story was a vivid example of giving up life for a cause, challenging me to consider how little I had suffered for my own beliefs.

Song of the Azalea also confirmed the human need to desire significance and to be a part of a bigger whole. Mr. Ore’s sacrifices for the sake of Communism testify of his passion to bring change to China. Through the twists and turns of the story, my admiration for him remained constant. Although he lived a secret life, hiding his Communist identity from his family and others, he lived for what he thought was true, for an ideology larger than his life.

I was surprised to discover on that indulgent Sunday afternoon that the story was an appropriate one for Mother’s Day. I don’t want to disclose major details so I will be intentionally vague. However I will say that this book also told of the power of family. In life, we have allegiances we choose, and ones that are chosen for us by the bonds of birth. Blood is strong. The ending is not borrowed from a fairy tale but there is happiness amidst the broken pieces.

Kenneth Ore and Joann Yu have authored an excellent work, sharing secrets and revealing moments of sorrow and joy in this memoir. Song of the Azalea is a human song playing the truths of who we are. It is a song of desperation and determination. It is bittersweet and beautiful, written by two artists who pulled away the curtain from Mr. Ore’s life to tell stories of passion and pain. I feel the book also pulled away pieces of my heart, opening my eyes, heart and mind, leaving me aching and grateful for their courage.

A test post here. After reading an ecto article in Make 01 I couldn’t wait to use it, but now I have to figure it out…

yes, this means I am now officially using my PowerBook…

well, that was fun to import!

Courageous citizen journalist Cathy Nickum was the winner of Tuesday’s technology levy, in my mind. No she wasn’t on the ballot. It was a simple yes or no and the school district’s tech levy lost, defeated by 57% of voters. But I learned where I want to go for information. Cathy’s site Bainbridge Buzz was the best source, both before and after the election.

Tuesday night as I looked on-line to discover whether the controversial $8.9 million levy had passed, I noticed that neither of the local papers, The Sun’s Islander or The Bainbridge Review had posted results yet, but Cathy had already linked to the county election results site predicting the loss. When I was seeking to determine which way to vote, I discovered that the pieces Cathy and others had written on the Buzz describing the tech levy issues were more helpful to me than the ones in the printed media.

Sure, the newspapers interviewed school board members and the opposition leaders. Perhaps that’s why they were slower to publish on their respective sites last night. But I already know what the two sides are going to say: their polarized positions are predictable. Instead I want to hear from the thousands of other islanders who put their ballot in the box. I want to know why they voted the way they did. What helps me most is the comment section on the Buzz posts. The dialogue encourages others to share, revealing contrasting perspectives and new points of view from the rest of Bainbridge Island.

Like others who commented, I appreciated Cathy’s willingness to ask questions and to reveal her own uncertainty for the levy vote. She’s written about citizen journalism. Now she’s demonstrated its effectiveness.

One of the activities that has occupied me in the past week since I last posted has been re-organizing my files. Usually I move one year’s worth of account papers into storage whenever we receive our tax return. Weeks have passed though this year and I was frustrated that I couldn’t find the time to tidy my files. My desk drawers were too full to use, and my desk itself became covered with piles of papers and books. Watching the flow of materials, I realized that I needed to change my system. This morning when the kids woke me early, in search of a misplaced pillow, I decided to stay awake and organize my misplaced papers. Some files I had not altered since 2000, the year we moved here. Flipping through the papers, I took a trip in time.

Most of the cards and letters I received, I noticed in my files, dated back to 2001 or 2002. I could think of a few reasons why my correspondence declined then. By 2002 I was a mom of three young kids. Also some of my long distance relationships started to feel the tug of time. Most of all though I think that many of my communications with friends and family have transferred to the electronic. So I am putting the cards and letters in storage. I’ll wait and watch how much paper correspondence I receive, before setting up another file system for them.

Besides the fact that it has taken me time to organize my papers, I also haven’t been able to blog because of the mental clutter I get from a messy desk. I don’t know how it is for anyone else, but I can have a hard time concentrating on a task when the space I am using is filled with leaning towers of Pisa of papers and books. Sometimes my desk barely has space for the mouse to move.

Another aspect of my life that has changed in the past five years is our family. We now have three times as many kids as we did when we moved here. Since 2000, three kids have learned to use the potty and two kids have learned to read. A few months ago it became clear Michaela was ready for more intense instruction so our home school afternoon study program now has two pupils when it once was a naptime for everyone. My desk, located in the kitchen, becomes our family’s educational center, as well as a financial center, miniature art gallery, hardware store, temporary post office, library and technology station.

Somehow too this piece of polished fir fit with a laptop and chair is supposed to be a place where I can come and have time for myself. I’ve been distracted and disturbed by the clutter. The physical transfers into the emotional. So I had to take the time and make the space for myself. Suddenly my desk seems larger. And so does my mind.

Speaking of helping the mind through clutter, I liked Big Paper as Scheherazade described it

Big Paper is a way we figure things out. It’s how we identify blocks and sort out our options and begin to see what we want to do about something. We did Big Paper yesterday and it was, as usual, surprising and helpful and powerful.

Stay of Execution is filled with Scheherazade’s practical wisdom. After reading her posts, I find myself wishing for bits of her life, whether it is a dog or a boat or a breakfast. This time I wish for Big Paper.

The list of reasons for my absence is long: I had a headache for three days and Elisabeth’s had a fever for three days too (not the same three days); the server was down one night; we helped with a neighborhood picnic and spruce-up on the weekend; Ted and I transferred my presentation to the PowerBook; the kids have decided to wake up earlier.

Speaking of kids, here’s a list of links to compensate for my AWOL days.