Tag: family-facing

Dear Families of PS/IS 102Q,

Sometimes the world can seem incredibly scary, especially when we come across news–as we did this Halloween–that someone had caused harm to others solely for this purpose.

People often hurt one another because they are hurt themselves, and they don’t know how to stop the pain. It’s never an excuse, but I can’t help but think that people cause harm only because they never had the chance to learn how to live any other way.

Hate and fear spreads quickly because they need little effort: a quick Facebook post, a hurtful message on Twitter, a rude insult; it takes nothing to cause a great deal of hurt.

Love and kindness, however, spread only through shared experiences and individual sacrifice. You can’t tell someone you care about them by commenting on their Instagram; you make clear to the people you love by showing up everyday, and never choosing to do anything but support them. The target of hate can change at a whim, but what you love today you will most likely always care about.

For NYC, many will remember Halloween 2017 as a day of fear and uncertainty. Our students, however, will remember Mario Karts racing down the hallway, Candy Wrappers doing ridiculous photo poses, Jellyfishes bouncing all over the first floor, life-size Dunkin Donuts cups and so much more.

They will remember a day of joy, love, and community. This is who we are and what we do, and this is why I couldn’t be more proud to be a member of the 102 family.

Students: the world is like a long, dark tunnel where we all carry our own tiny flashlight with no extra batteries. If we lived fearfully, we wait for others to expend their batteries, aimlessly pointing tiny lights that disappear into the vast darkness.

But when everyone choose to light up at the same time, the dark tunnel will suddenly not seem so dark after all. It will be obvious which direction to go next, and the group of lights will simply move forward, together.

I promise you that 102 will be lit, always. And soon we’ll count on you to help us light up the rest of the world.

With Love,

William Ko, Principal

A veces, el mundo puede parecer terriblemente aterrador, especialmente cuando encontramos noticias como las de ayer, que durante el Halloween, una persona perjudicó a otras con el único propósito de hacer daño.

Con frecuencia, las personas se lastiman unas a otras porque ellas mismas están heridas y no saben cómo aliviar su dolor. Esto jamás será una excusa, pero no puedo dejar de pensar que dichas personas causan daño simplemente porque nunca tuvieron la oportunidad de aprender a vivir de otra forma.

El odio y el miedo se extienden rápidamente porque necesitan poco esfuerzo: una breve publicación en Facebook, un mensaje hiriente en Twitter o un insulto no requieren mucho, pero pueden causar un gran daño y lastimar profundamente.

Por otro lado, el amor y la bondad se transmiten sólo mediante el contacto personal, la proximidad y diferentes experiencias compartidas. No podemos decirle a los demás que nos preocupamos por ellos con solo comentar en su Instagram. Demostramos nuestro amor a las personas estando presentes todos los días para apoyarlos . Lo que se odia ahora puede cambiar en cualquier momento, pero lo que hoy amas seguramente siempre te importará.

Para algunos, quizás el Halloween del 2017 será recordado como un momento de miedo e inseguridad, pero para nuestros estudiantes sus recuerdos serán Mario Karts corriendo por el pasillo, envolturas de dulce haciendo poses graciosas para las fotos , gomitas de dulce rebotando en el primer piso, tazas de Dunkin Donuts de tamaño natural y mucho más .

Recordarán un día de alegría, amor y comunidad. Es por este motivo que no podría estar más orgulloso de ser un miembro de la familia 102.

Estudiantes: el mundo es como un túnel largo y oscuro donde cada uno lleva una pequeña lámpara y apenas un par de baterías. Si vivimos atemorizados, y sólo esperamos a que alguien gaste sus baterías, nuestras diminutas luces desaparecerán en la oscuridad, y hasta habrá quienes se molesten con otros cuando estos traten de mirar hacia donde ellos alumbren.

Pero si todos elegimos iluminar al mismo tiempo, de inmediato, ese túnel dejará de ser tan oscuro. El camino a seguir se verá completamente claro, sabremos cual es el próximo paso a seguir y todo el grupo de luces avanzará al tiempo.

Les prometo que 102 estará encendida siempre. Y pronto contaremos con ustedes para que nos ayuden a iluminar el resto del mundo.

Con amor,

 William Ko, Principal

To the Class of 2017,

The hardest thing about having an amazing father is not having him.

For as long as I can remember, as a child I lived with my mother in California from September to June, and with my father in Hong Kong in the summer. It never got easier to get on the plane knowing that you won’t see your father for another 10 months; September for me was never about back to school, it was back to more crying and missing my dad.

But even with so little time together, my father gave me everything I needed and then some. Most importantly, he taught me the one lesson that continues to guide me every time I wake up: it’s really hard to be a good person because the person who’ll always try to stop you is you.

We all want to be good–ask anyone whether they’re a good person, not many will say no. But if you ask people to go against their self-interest to serve others, you’ll get a much quieter response. Our brains were designed to make decisions based on what benefits ourselves, and it’s only natural that we choose ourselves over others whenever a choice has to be made. If we’re hungry, we eat–not offer someone else our food. If we’re tired, we sleep–not volunteer to clean the streets. Prioritizing ourselves is what we do and we are here today because our ancestors won the real Hunger Games: of all the species and civilizations and cultures, our ancestors won by doing what they needed to do to survive. It’s not just survival of the fittest, it’s survival of the selfish. It’s what we are, and we can’t ignore that.

As you continue on to high school, college, and beyond, remember to recognize the voice inside you that’ll never stop telling you to be selfish. It’ll give you whatever justification you need to hear so that you’ll care for only yourself and not others. No matter how much money you make, this voice will always say you don’t have enough to buy someone lunch. No matter how you feel, this voice will always convince you that you can’t afford the time and effort to help the needy. Sometimes it’s correct and you are too tired and you need to to take care of yourself first. But often it just wants you to think like others and care for yourself.

Listen to that voice and think for yourself whether you should obey it because you can never care for others unless you learn how to rise above it.

Take this lesson with you as you continue on your amazing path. Sharing this with you is why I became a principal. It’s a lesson that was taught to me with tears; not mine, Knowing that he has every justification to keep his son and daughter close by, he sacrificed being with us to do what’s right and sent us to grow up in America.

Congratulations on your accomplishments, and never stop thinking for yourself so you can care for others. We’re all counting on you.

William Ko, Principal

 

Dear Parents and Guardians,

New York City’s School Chancellor Carmen Farina’s statement in reaffirming the Department of Educations commitment to all of our families, regardless of immigration status, is one I fully support as a school principal, as an American citizen, and as someone who remembers spending much of his time in American schools as a Green Card holder. From having a visa as a toddler to having a green card in elementary and finally getting citizenship in high school, my teachers always made sure that I knew I was home. They made sure that I knew I belonged.

Everything I have and everything I will do I owe them and their American belief that compassion and morals matter. And I thank them and our country everyday when I do the same for your child, and this I will never stop. I will always protect our students and families from unlawful and unconstitutional harm, with or without a statement from our Chancellor.

For our families who are affected by the new travel ban, please know that I will make every attempt to support you during these difficult times. I understand your pain and I’m here to shoulder them with you. My entire life I was half a world away from a father I love deeply, and being able to see him every summer made all the difference then, and even now.  That’s what love does; it stays when everything else goes away.

We don’t get to choose where we were born but we can choose the values we live each day. And I say to all of our families that I choose you, just as all the great American teachers I had who never wavered in choosing me.

Love,

William Ko, Principal

當我將紐約市區總乡长Carmen Farina和紐約市一名移民事務專員Nisha Agarwal的聯合聲明拿回家，心中感到一陣釋然。在他倆的聲明裏重申了他們對新移民居留身份的關注和支持。即是說，無論你現在身份是什麼，都會得到一視同仁的對待。

以我自己來說，在幾歲大跟隨父母簽證來美，小學時拿到綠卡，高中時成為公民的這段日子，我的老師們都讓我感到自己是住在家裡，也都讓我知道自己身居何處。

我現在擁有和所做的一切，都是因我的老師們而來。因為他們和他們的美國理念，使我堅信關愛和道德規範比一切事情都重要。今天無論有沒有上述所講的聯合聲明，我也會對我的學生們做同樣的事情，而且永遠如此。我會永遠保護學生們不受非法和違反憲法的新政策所傷害。

對於那些受到最新入境（旅行）條列影響的家庭，請相信我一定會支持你們度過這個難關。我明白你們的苦處，而我會在這裡陪伴你們經歷這一切。至於我自己，從出生到現在，幾乎所有的時間都和我深愛的父親相隔半個地球，而我可以每年暑假遠赴香港去看他是多麼了不起的事。這一切都是因為愛，而愛不會因為其他所有東西都己不見了而有所改變。

我們不能自由選擇自己的出生地，但我們可以按自己的价值观選擇如何生活。我現在向你們每一個家庭承諾，我選擇你們，正如我以前所有的老師們，那麼毫不猶豫的選擇了我。

校長高樂天

Me siento aliviado al enviar a su casa la carta adjunta de la Canciller de la Ciudad de Nueva York, Carmen Farina, y Nisha Agarwal, la Comisionada de la Oficina de Asuntos Inmigrantes del Alcalde de la Ciudad de Nueva York. Su declaración conjunta en la reafirmación de nuestro compromiso con todas nuestras familias, independientemente de su estatus migratorio, es una de las que apoyo plenamente como un director, como un ser humano, como un ciudadano estadounidense y como alguien que recuerda pasar gran parte de su infancia y carrera escolar, como titular de una Tarjeta Verde. De tener una visa como un niño pequeño a tener una tarjeta verde en la escuela primaria y finalmente obtener la ciudadanía en la escuela secundaria, mis maestros siempre se aseguraron de que me sentía como estuviera en casa. Se aseguraron de que yo sabía que pertenecía.

Todo lo que tengo y todo lo que haré les debo a ellos y a su creencia americana de que la compasión y la moral importan más que nada. Y les doy las gracias a ellos y a nuestro país todos los días cuando hago lo mismo por su hijo, y esto nunca me detendré. Siempre protegeré a nuestros estudiantes y familias de daños ilegales e inconstitucionales, con o sin una declaración de nuestro Canciller.

Para nuestras familias que han sido afectadas por la nueva prohibición de viajar, por favor sepan que haré todo lo posible para apoyarlos durante estos tiempos difíciles. Conozco su dolor y estoy aquí para compartirlos con usted. Mi padre nunca vivió en América, y poder verlo cada verano en Hong Kong desde que era un niño hizo toda la diferencia en mi vida.

No podemos elegir dónde nacimos, pero podemos elegir los valores que vivimos cada día. Y le digo a todas nuestras familias que te elijo, al igual que todos los grandes maestros americanos que nunca vacilaron al elegirme.

William Ko, Principal

 

You never forget seeing your mother cry.

Everyone who’s met my mom loves her: she’s kind, she’s capable, and she makes everyone around her better. However, growing up I’d sometimes find her sitting alone late at night, tissue in hand, quietly sobbing. It could be because she had a son who just doesn’t know how to listen, but I always thought it was because it was really hard to be a good person.

The engine driving civilization is competition—from birth we’re taught to achieve, to be better than others, to have more than others. Schools compete with one another to see which can better teach students to be knowledgeable, to be obedient to the rules of society, and to make money. In a world where everyone is trying to race to the top, it can be difficult for those like my mom who want nothing more than to stay behind to lift the needy.

She’d mentioned that kindness is an infectious disease; once you get close enough to someone who’s infected you can’t help but also be kind. My mother was certain that one day this kindness virus would spread faster than our collective immune system of selfishness could handle. I wasn’t so sure.

Now that I’ve had the opportunity to serve as your principal and seeing first hand at 102 how love and kindness and courage and hope can flow and multiply from one individual to another and from one room to the next, I can finally say what every boy has always wanted to be able to tell their mothers: Don’t cry; everything is going to be just fine. I can say that now because I have you all, some of the finest young people I’ve ever come across, as proof that we here a 102 can indeed make the world a better place. The world just got a little kinder because you are all now in it.

When I see you comfort one another on high school admissions letter day, when I see you volunteer time and time again, whether it’s to paint faces or to clean up, and when I see you time after time fearlessly challenge anyone–including yourselves—without a moment’s hesitation, I can’t help but feel hopeful for a future you’ll all shape.

But I’m not going to lie to you: life is hard. Really, really hard. Reality can be disappointing and people often forget about the light they had when they were young. Gradually, some learn to accept the world for what it is, and not for what it could or should be. I promise you there will be times when you’ll feel hopeless, when you’ll feel you’ve been taken advantaged of one too many times, when you think you can’t possibly stomach yet another rejection, and you want to just give in and be less than what you can be. When that happens–and it will happen–try to remember what it felt like to be at a place where everyone around you also cared and also tried, a place where people believed and a place where it was the most normal thing to do to lend a helping hand whenever one was needed.

Remember what it was like to be at 102.

Think about all the amazing teachers you’ve had and everyone who believed in you, reminisce about the joys and adventures and heartaches and triumphs with your friends, smile at the messages they wrote to you in this book, and I’m sure you’ll know what to do next. Once you’re infected, that little 102 virus will always be with you.

Thank you for making my first year as principal as incredible as I could ever hope for.

 

William Ko, Principal