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Archive for the ‘society’ Category

The Underlying French Appeal

The French generally get a bum rap from American tourists. The thing is that the French culture has well-defined set of manners that many Americans don’t understand. Actually, Americans (especially tourists) generally are not very good at picking up subtle nuances from culture to culture in general. I guess that’s from being a large isolated country without many bordering neighbors.

The difference about the French is that they are willing to show their displeasure toward rude visitors more than most. For me, that’s one of the appeals of the French – the open honesty. I’m spending my vacation in France with my wife right now. We’ve visited many times before and this handsome country always draws us back. Of course, Paris is a spectacularly beautiful city. I, however, also believe it can be viewed as an over-rated place. What I mean is that many people around the world build such a “romantic” notion of the city that when they are hit with the full reality of a diverse, aging urban center, the reaction can be shock or disappointment.

Yet, there are still so many Francophiles around the world. I think what is most appealing is how the cafes, restaurants and bars are set up for extended time with friends. People genuinely enjoy time together. People are not rushing home to tend to their “material” goods (mowing lawns, watching a big-screen TV’s, cleaning their boats, etc.). There is a warmth among groups of people that is undeniable. That vibe is what is inevitably the French appeal – at least it is for me.  Be content. Enjoy today.

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The hashtags on Twitter can serve many purposes. Certainly, they help people  filter for current topics of interest. It should be no surprise that #JobsSpeech is very popular today given President Obama’s speech earlier.

Other hashtags can be just for entertainment/fun value.  Some of these allow people to share interesting thoughts and experiences under a common theme. For example, #ICanHonestlySay, #The LastTimeIChecked, #NationalKissDay and many others can bond/entertain us under one subject line.

While cats on the internet seem to make many people happy, I have a Twitter hashtag that I particularly enjoy — #PleasantSurprises. This isn’t a very popular hashtag but most entries make me smile, brightening up my day somewhat. Furthermore, I think taking the time to tweet a #PleasantSurprise has to have a therapeutic effect on people who are tweeting this hashtag.

I especially like to tweet #PleasantSurprises while traveling on business. It helps me to keep an appreciative perspective on all the wonderful things that happen to me on a daily basis even when I’m away from my family. I’ve been told verbalizing positive thoughts is good for the soul. Well, tweeting #PleasantSurprises is also effective in keeping an appreciative state of mind. Doing this might surprise you on how many great happenings in our lives that we usually take for granted.

Let me share some of my recent #PleasantSurprises:

  • #PleasantSurpirses: When a childhood friend finds you on FB
  • #PleasantSurprises: Given a free dessert with a smile at a Lebanese restaurant in Edgeware Road, London
  • #PleasantSurprises: Invited to a 3-day sailing trip in the UK. Hope no rain gear will be necessary
  • Walking through the front door & smelling dumplings (mandoo) being fried  #PleasantSurprises
  • An unexpected late night call from friends who moved away saying they are visiting #PleasantSurprises

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My earliest memories  were of waking up on a warm floor, which is how Korean houses were heated back then, and hearing faint females voices outside. I immediately recognized my grandmother talking so I started to cry knowing that’s the fastest way to get her attention. After all, I was hungry.

I think I was three, maybe four.

I guess I haven’t changed much since then. I still whine to get feed, but now mostly by my wife.

The older I get, the better I understand myself. As a son of Korean parents who grew up during the Japanese occupation and the Korean War, all positive reinforcements were about food. If I were sick, I would be given a precious orange, which was very expensive at the time. The best part of my mother going to the market in Seoul was the rice cakes I knew she would bring back for me. Throughout my childhood the measure of my mother and grandmother’s love (which was pretty important) for me were measured by food. Good grades meant a feast of marinated beef (bulgogi). When I was down, then I got dumplings (mando) made by my grandmother. They never really hugged me or showed much affection publicly, but they were quick with a meal. I definitely preferred that too.

So, it’s no wonder that I’ve spent so much of my life trying to get women to feed me.  It gives me comfort and warmth. It builds my self-esteem. In return, I’ve also been taught to appreciate, protect, and provide and for such women since they were so important to my own self-worth.

I’m sure that I’m not unique in this regard, especially for most Asian men. I’ve been so lucky. Even as I travel, I always seem to have some wonderful woman trying to feed me: My sister, sister-in-laws, co-workers, and good friends.

There you have it. I’ve just explained why Asian men are such moma’s wagamamas.

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Diversification is a natural law: It protects against risk and gives an improved chance for overall success.

In an investment portfolio, diversification is a smart strategy. In effective leadership, having a diverse, complementary team increases chances of success.

In mating, it appears, we naturally want to diversify the gene pool of our offsprings. But how do we know if a potential spouse is genetically diverse from us? Well, nature has armed us with the ability to smell our differences.

The BBC piece below made a profound impact on me when I first saw it while living in London 8 years ago. It really validated for me that diversification is an effective strategy in life. I’ve tried to live with that in mind ever since.

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It’s layover in Taipei International Airport, after 12 hours in the air from Seattle. Everything’s just a little too familiar. Instinctively, I made my way to the connecting “C” gates through yet another security check point. I have about 45 minutes to kill before the business center opens at 6am when I will check my email.

I sat next to a Chinese gentleman on the Eva flight over and we went through the whole trip without a single word to each other. Just eye contact got me past him two separate times to use the facilities. The flight attendants only spoke to me in Chinese but I knew by context what they were saying so I played along: I closed the blinds, opened them, declined food, put my seat back up…

I enjoyed being left along as I wasn’t feeling well. An ambient pill let me sleep almost 8 hours and I finished the flight by watching two movies. Surprisingly, I feel better than when I started this journey.

Right now, staring at me is a life-sized cardboard picture of a Chinese chef tempting me with soft-shell turtle soup. I’ve never tried that before. I appreciate the fact it’s something quite different given the familiarity of everything else around me: The duty free shops hawking exclusive brand names. That magazine smell of expensive perfume is the same in Heathrow as it is in the Taipei International Airport. The world has become so small.

I’ve been jumping from Seattle to London to Ho Chi Minh City over the past year. When I go to one of these three diverse cities, there is a surprising amount of similarities. I guess that’s called globalization.

I remember the first time visiting Paris with my wife in the hot summer of 1996. It was almost impossible for me to get any ice with my drinks. I complained quite a bit about that throughout the trip. Now, you can’t get a drink without ice throughout Europe or Asia. In a way, despite all my previous complaints, that makes me sad. So, I heard Carl’s Jr. is opening up in Ho Chi Minh City. I should really try this soft-shell turtle soup.

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On this 4th of July celebration, let’s remember all the great things about America. Yes, I know the country is not perfect and we have a lot of challenges ahead. Still, I’m proud to be an American, maybe more so because of my immigrant background.

Today, let me list five things I love about the US of A.

  1. 47% of all venture-backed companies in the US were started by at least one co-founder NOT born in the country. The American Dream still lives for sure!
  2. During foreign disasters, Americans usually always lead the aid efforts with individual (non-government) donations and volunteer work. I once talked to a Canadian business leader who explained how impressed she was with the way  Americans will mobilize to help during foreign disasters. Me too!
  3. In general, the American perspective seems more optimistic than from other places. My optimism is sometimes viewed as “over-the-top” elsewhere, but Americans find it encouraging and sometimes even inspiring. Here’s believing you can do whatever you put your mind to.
  4. The American middle class, while much maligned recently, is still a distinguishing factor from many other countries. The living standard is relatively very high, especially for a country with such a large population.
  5. American customer service. It’s an art form that is distinctively American. It’s not stodgy, it’s not too subservient. It’s Nordstroms, Zappos, Starbucks and so many, many other American brands.

I’m sure you have your top five. Please comment if you want to add to the list. Happy 4th of July everyone!

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Friends my age are now re-evaluating their marriages, some re-committing, others bailing and still some frozen in indecision. A few of my younger friends are contemplating their first marriage.

To me the big question has never been whether to get married, but how committed one is to the marriage (or relationship)? Caught up in the moment, any legally-aged person can get married. Committing to a relationship, however, is infinitely more difficult because it’s not a spur of the moment decision. Commitment transcends that moment and far beyond.

My father used to tell me that the Western romance starts in a furious boil, then over time fizzles to a simmer until the romance eventually turns cold. He would tell me that Eastern romance starts at a simmer, but eventually turns into a boil with the right commitment to family and to oneself.

Everyone has a choice every day. You can decide to dwell on all that is wrong or missing from a relationship. Or you can decide to see the positives of the other person to the point that your feelings begin to boil again. This takes commitment to someone.

There are definitely unhealthy relationships that need more than an attitude adjustment. But there are many that just require a better perspective.

So, are you contemplating marriage? Make a decision and then make the MOST of that decision.

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I had an amazing mother’s day.

My mother’s always been a people person. She has great timing with stories and jokes. She easily entertains in group settings, and is quick to laugh. Despite this, we didn’t always get along when I was a teenager. As a mother, she could be extremely demanding and my adolescence would have been any parent’s nightmare.

Those days have long passed, and last Sunday I wanted nothing more than to spend time with my mother on her terms. After a family lunch, she wanted to explore Seattle’s downtown shopping district. I volunteered to escort her around, starting with a Seattle Street Car ride from our South Lake Union condo.

We wandered into Nordstrom, where I patiently followed her through the assortment of purses, then to the women’s apparel. I gave feedback about various outfits, but we mostly talked about the family, laughing at the passage of time. We spoke in Korean, somehow feeling closer for it.

She reminded me about how much I used to eat as a high school athlete, emphasizing the enormous amounts with her spread out arms and the volume of her laughter. Then, she saw an outfit on sale and excitedly asked me to help find her size. I obliged, searching through women’s clothes, not considering how ridiculous it may look.

Eventually, she lead me to the men’s section and asked if I needed anything. Mothers always treat their sons as little boys regardless of age. I tried to change the topic with questions about several of my cousins, but she was already looking at clothes for me. Finally, I convinced her that we should look at other stores as well.

Outside, the weather was gorgeous, perfect for downtown shopping. With the street musicians serenading us, she stopped by a cherry blossom that reminded her of Korea.

After a few stops, I directed her to the Nordstrom Rack. She was now even more focused on shopping with the prospect of saving money. I followed her about, delighting in her obvious enthusiasm. There, she found a pair of sandals that she loved — so much so she decided to buy another pair for my wife Shari.

I let her buy me a pair of shoes there as well.

Outside again, she pulled out a Starbucks card insisting we enjoy tw0 frappuccinos. We got carried away in our good mood and also shared a roasted corn on the cob. We conversed about how healthy she and my dad are. Me, watching her reaction carefully for any telltale signs to the contrary. Happy not to have noticed anything.

Time moved fast. I had arrived a day earlier from London but didn’t feel any jet lag shopping with her. It was just a perfect day.

The next day, she texted, “I was happy yesterday shoping with my son and lunch together with my family.”

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Don Miller, my friend, was happy to walk Paris with me

Traveling with me can be a pain or quite adventurous, depending on your perspective.

Generally, I like riding local public transportation, especially the subways. I also like to walk. I only ride taxi’s out of necessity. Why would I want to be in a car with just the driver when there’s a whole new environment to observe?

Last weekend, I visited Paris with a friend. We traveled mostly by the Metro and by foot.

On the Metro, I can observe the locals in their environment. I get a sense of the fashion. You can observe how couples express intimacy. I can see the protocal between the old and the young. You can observe the general reaction to panhandlers.

By foot, you get a good sense of the “energy” of a place. You smell different odors, hear new sounds, and see new surroundings. Even crossing the street can be a unique experience depending on where you are. In Ho Chi Minh, crossing a street full of scooters can scar you for life. In Seattle, police give tickets for jaywalking.  In London, the cross walks warn you on which direction to look before crossing.

My approach allows me to find subtlties that I wouldn’t otherwise. It allows me to fit in slightly more. I leave a new place with a better understanding of its culture than just what its tourist attractions represent.

Such effort to immerse oneself in a culture to observe is called ethnography, an anthropological term. For me, I figured ethnography would be a good hobby, until I got into the business of analyzing social media data. What better environment to observe behavior in people’s natural environment than in social media platforms? This is called Virtual Ethnography.

As for my travel habits, however, it turns out that I’m not an ethnographer after all. I’m a big fake. That’s because I participate as well as observe. While I love watching people, I also love talking and interacting with them as well. So, when I walk, I tend to talk to street vendors and anyone else who are willing to talk to me. On the Metro, I love trying to make strangers smile, or sometimes helping an old lady with her bags.

So now you are forewarned: Travel with me at your own risk.

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Parenthood is a humbling experience. It is a rewarding experience. It is a growing experience. Children are a reflection of their parents. Maybe that’s why parenting can be so frustrating.

I’ve gone through different phases of parenthood. Of course, there is the “overwhelmed stage” as a young parent. We had our two boys 11 months apart. That was physically taxing, especially for my wife. I quickly realized how different points of views can be about child rearing. We had a Korean live-in “nanny” when the boys were babies. Once, when my older son, Jeffrey, cried and wouldn’t go to sleep, I left him in the crib and restrained the nanny from picking him up. Next day, she was packing her things, saying she would not stay around and watch a baby die from the cruelty of his father. My wife pleaded with her to stay, promising that I wouldn’t do that again.

I wanted to teach my sons independence in the Western way. The women in their lives wanted to nurture them unconditionally in the Asian way. That unconditional love, of course, has a price later of tremendous family pressures and obligations.

As my kids grew older, I was completely absorbed in my career, especially in building ARIS. I traveled constantly and played only a minor role to my wife in raising our boys during their elementary school years. I remember hearing somewhere that a mother’s role is make children feel nurtured and safe, and a father’s role is to prepare them for the real world. I took that too literally. For their elementary and pre-teen years, I was a strict disciplinarian.

My younger son, Jeremy, especially had a hard time with my approach as he was very sensitive. Even as a big chasm developed between us, I was determined to treat both boys the same. That was a big mistake. After all, I was an adult and he was a child, and I was being unreasonably stubborn.

As the boys hit teenage years, Jeffrey became everything that I tried to instill, a very independent person — but to an extreme. He got into the punk culture while living in London. He played in a rock band. He got in trouble in school and with local authorities. No parenting method worked. By then, I had matured enough to know that the cold disciplinarian tactic did not work. I was trying be a more engaged father. Even that, I messed up in my typical fashion, getting too involved with his band and giving input that wasn’t wanted, nor needed.

Looking back, the problem was that my boys weren’t meeting MY expectations. I initiated most of the conflict. Now, I agree that parents need to set guidelines, but we need to determine whether our expectations for our children are good for them or for the parent. If it’s only good for the parent, then the problem obviously is the parent.

Here is a story that changed my perspective. There was a young man who had social anxiety issues and met with a psychologist. He was raised by a single mother who never let him out of her sight. She developed her whole life around him. She drove him to school, picked him up at school, even as he was going to high school. When asked if he perhaps thought that his mother had acted selfishly, the young man responded, “Oh no, it’s because she loved ME so much.”

Obviously, real love would have been to let her son grow and develop the skills necessary to function in society, regardless of how painful that may have been for the insecure, single mother. Letting go sometimes is the truest form of love.

We just finished a family vacation over the holidays in Southern California. While we had the usual moments of conflict when trying to coordinate a group decision, our time together was very pleasant. My perspective on parenting has changed a lot over the years. I’m not big on imposing my will on my boys anymore (it never worked), but now want to find their individual strengths and nurture those. I’ve learned to appreciate the personalities of each.  I must say that they are both very street smart, despite all the craziness I had injected into their lives.

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