3.17.23
Living in rural Japan asks for a lot of biking--not a day goes by without having to hop on my trusty bicycle buddy. And to me, biking is synonymous with one of my favorite people in the world, the one, the only, Father Ronald B. McGinn.
There are countless moments finding myself thinking, "wow, this makes me think of dad...huh, I miss the guy! Dangnab, I'm so lucky to have a father ron in my life" (maybe not these words verbatim, but pretty close). Many of these moments do happen to be when I'm on the bike (or on a run) weaving past rice fields, making sleek turns, standing on my pedals to conquer a small uphill, grumbling under my breath at a careless driver, or feeling the wind paint my face while indulging the speed of a downhill. Father Ron often talks of riding as flying on ground, and I think I've come to really understand what his words mean.
I think my rides also remind me of my dad because they are often going to and from my hoikuens. Ever since I was a small kid, I have had so much pride knowing my dad wasn't just a teacher, but he was and still is, a great teacher. I don't blindly believe this just because he's family, as games of "how many students will say 'Yo McGinn' while Christmas shopping at the mall," handfuls of end-of-year thank you gifts, bundels of hand-made christmas cookies, or multiple yearbook signatures of "thanks for being the best teacher I've had" serve as evidence that people go out of their way to recognize my dad. Further, I have grown up seeing just how much he dedicates his energy and time to his Bristol community not only through his teaching, but also through his Model UN-ing, his Mock Trial-ing, his cross country/track/bowling coach-ing, his school play-ing, his yearbook-ing, and his Writer's Voice-ing, among other school activities in which he is involved (this even includes having to almost kiss a bulldog and having to compete in annual whip-cream pie eating contests). When listing all of this, one may think he'd be completely drained from all he does, yet, the only times I've seen him really dread his job is when he has to finally tackle the pile of ungraded papers he’s pushed back until hours before the marking period ends.
Having such a Father Ron has prepared me so much for my time in Yakage. Even though my 4-6 year olds are a tad younger than his 14-18 year olds, I am constantly reminded of how grateful I am to have a dad who’s taught me how to be a teacher myself. Of course, there are uncountable ways in which I can grow as a teacher, so thank goodness for having my whole life in front of me to figure this out. But here are a few of many “McGinnicisms” I’ve been trying to pay forward in my own communities:
RESPECT, RES[RECT RESPECT: From a young age, Father Ron drilled into me just how important it is to see everyone, whether they are 1, 11, 111, a principal, a student, a facilities manager, or a volunteer, as somebody worthy of respect. And he didn’t teach me this by making me listen to Arethra Franklin’s RESPECT multiple times (though he did have me watch the Blues Brothers as “necessary musical education”). Rather, he did/does this in action. From small actions such as holding the Wawa doors for a stranger, to large actions such as listening to and advising large life decisions I make as an individual even if he sees differently, he has taught me the value of respect in endless ways.
NEVER FORGET A NAME: The power of a name is so important because it conveys that people are known…it conveys that they are worthy of the time and effort to be recognized as a unique individual rather than just another body in a crowd. I’ve found my kiddos to respond and listen far more effectively when called on by name–it creates a personal relationship with them where trust and vulnerability can bloom.
PEOPLE ARE PEOPLE NO MATTER HOW SMALL: I’ve also learned from my dad that showing respect to others starts with truly someone as they are, not just as how you want to see them. I think this is why his students are willing to be so open with him not only as a teacher but as a life coach, and this is also why students from 5 years ago aren’t afraid to stop the whole Wawa customer line so they can tell my dad how they’ve been doing. He doesn’t treat his students as adolescents that have to sit and listen to him all day–he treats them as people who have opinions, thoughts, feelings and questions that are as, if not more, valid as his. He is always ready to learn from his students, whether it’s about the next big Imagine Dragons single or about the current worries around post-high school funding. And even though preschoolers are different from high schoolers in that they have only lived 4-6 years in this world, they know just as well as anyone when they are/are not being treated with respect and seriosuness. Thus, it has been so helpful for me to model after my dad in how he would create friendships, not just authority-subject relationships, with his students. Just because my kiddos are younger doesn’t mean I should treat them with less legitness than with people my age. And treating them as my equals has allowed me to gain so much wisdom and reflection on life, death, growth, and…well…shinkansens. Also Pokemon and Minecraft.
I could go on and on about how much father ron has taught me over the years, but for today, we’ll leave it at one of his best lessons not just in the classroom but in life. My dad has taught me how to have fun.
As a kid on “bring your child to work” days, I easily picked up on the fact that my dad’s classes were fun. He was/still is willing to look stupid to make kids laugh and feel at ease around him. This early age observation has seemed to seep its way into English Lessons With Kai-Sensei… to the point that Kai-Sensei has nonchalantly belted out rounds of Let It Go/Bohemian Rhapsody for a recent Freeze Dance activity. I admit my voice may not have been as melodic as Freddie Mercury's or Idina Menzel's, but at least some of my voice was covered by the kiddos' laughs and screams. Yet, I don’t think I would have had the mind to go all out like that without having seen it be done, successfully, before. It's all thanks to Father Ron. I also have found myself entertaining the kiddos with old games that Father Ron taught me back when I was a yungin. Over thee months, I have imaginary cracked eggs on many a kids’ heads, I’ve taught kids to understand/say “PLEASE” and “ONE MORE TIME” by re-creating his soccer game jumps and knee-forward-flips, I got half a class to arm wrestle and thumb war for a good 20 minutes, I greet kids with the “high five, down low, you’re too slow'' without thinking…the list goes on and on and on. Realizing how many of my dad’s games immediately come to mind when having to manage a bunch of wriggly preschoolers also makes me take in just how well loved and cared for I was (and still is) by my Father Ronald. He's always been there to keep me laughing and smiling in any situation in so many ways. Even today and an ocean away, Father Ron is able to pull out his awful dad jokes to cheer me up, and despite just HOW TERRIBLE they are, he never fails to crack my smile.
I admit that my patience sometimes runs short on him, his patience sometimes runs short on me, we end up in huge arguments about ice cubes from time to time, and we sometimes get into heated debates over the spelling/pronunciation of the most insignificant words. But through all this (and lots more, insert sheepish laughter) I can so very confidently say how lucky I am to have Father Ronald B. McGinn as a teacher, best friend, fellow Harry Potter enthusiast, cheerleader, coach, student, peer Farmers Market enthusiast, and of course, most importantly, as my dad.
