"Family Matters"
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Good Customer Service
By Ray M. Wong
Recently, I wrote a column about a nightmare property refinance initiated through Wells Fargo. The short end of the story is that the loan originator made a mistake on our application and could not follow through on an interest rate we had locked in. I contacted a supervisor at Wells Fargo to ask for the rate we were quoted on our application and a second-level supervisor came through to accommodate this request. Due to a number of mistakes, the loan ended up taking over five months to complete.
I wrote an e-mail to the supervisors at Wells Fargo’s home loan department. There were a number of people who provided good customer service, and I recognized them in the communication. I believe that blame is counterproductive, so instead of singling people out who made mistakes, I provided suggestions on streamlining the loan process, improving accountability and access to supervisors, and lowering the ratio of loans to processors. My hope is that the feedback will help future customers.
I don’t know if any of my suggestions will be implemented by Wells Fargo, but I did receive a letter from the Vice President and Loan Administration Manager at the company stating she would take my feedback seriously. She later sent me a card apologizing for the delays in my loan and included a $100.00 gift card for the troubles I encountered in the process. It was a nice gesture, and I want to recognize that. If any of my suggestions help a future customer have a better loan experience, then contacting the supervisors will have been worth the effort.
This past week, we took some visiting family members from Hawaii to Disneyland. A 13-year-old nephew named Nicholas left a couple of souvenirs, a light-up Mohawk and a Star Wars light saber, on the shuttle taking us back to our vehicle. I could tell he was disappointed at losing the items. While visiting the park the next day, I went to the “Lost and Found” to ask if the items had been turned in. After a few minutes, an employee came back with both items in hand, and I gave him a grateful thank you.
We visited Disneyland and California Adventure the two days after Christmas, and there were wall to wall people at the “Happiest Place on Earth.” Despite this, the customer service was stellar. From efficient food vendors to clean bathrooms to quick and easy stroller rentals to helpful employees providing directions to any number of tourists to regular shuttles from the parking lots to Disneyland and back to a Christmas parade that featured all the Disney favorites on Main Street, Disneyland is a remarkable study in excellent customer service. The “Lost and Found” is another example of how good they are at what they do.
Family tip: The Grizzly River Run at Disneyland’s California Adventure is a river raft ride that is exhilarating for the whole family. Be forewarned; there’s a good possibility of getting soaked.
Family quote: “I can’t wait until next Christmas” – our 8-year-old daughter, Kristie, on December 26th.
Ray M. Wong’s memoir, “Chinese-American: A Journey of Discovery” will be published by Kitsune Books in 2013. E-mail comments to ray@raywong.info or though his website: www.raywong.info.
Standing Up for Oneself
By Ray M. Wong
We closed a refinance on our home in December. It was a process that began back in July and involved numerous delays and errors on the part of the lender. Because of this I felt frustration about the ordeal, but instead of swallowing the frustration, I decided to write a letter to the Vice President and Loan Admin Manager of the company. My belief is that complaining is useless because it’s about blame, and that only brings defensiveness. My goal was to offer suggestions that might help future loan applicants. Here’s my letter:
“To (name of lending company):
I want to thank (I singled out the names of the employees who did provide good service) for their excellent customer service in addressing my concerns on the refinance.
My feedback on this loan process is that it needs to be streamlined so that a customer who is prompt in providing his documentation shouldn’t have to wait five months for his loan to close. There also needs to be better communication so that the customer is provided accurate information and knows what is happening with his loan at every stage, particularly if there is a mistake or problem.
If a mistake is made on the loan, there needs to be better accountability in correcting it by the parties responsible. Also there needs to be an improved channel of access to an immediate supervisor if there is a customer concern.
Ultimately, a customer needs to have the feeling that his loan matters to the people working on it, and that was not always my experience on this refinance. If the volume of loans is an obstacle to providing outstanding customer service by every (name of company) employee, I hope the following suggestions can help:
Develop a checklist of major loan stages so that the customer is aware from the outset what types of documents might be needed at what stage and expected timeframes to complete the process.
If a loan needs to be transferred, have the first loan processor notify the customer. Also the loan processor needs to update the new processor on all the files so that there’s a smooth transition.
Institute a standard ratio of loans to processors e.g. 10 loans to a processor so that loan processors can adequately handle each loan with efficiency and excellent customer service. If employees are overwhelmed with caseloads, develop a standard of hiring, training and continuing training to keep caseloads manageable and ensure highest quality customer service.
Have a quality control representative contact each customer taking out a loan at periodic intervals to ask if the customer is receiving good service. If there are any issues, there needs to be an easily accessible contact for the customer to address problems.
If a loan takes more than a reasonable amount of time to complete (determined by the organization), and the customer has provided his information in a timely manner, give the customer an inducement – money back or something for their troubles.
Develop a policy of accountability: steps a Wells Fargo employee should be expected to take to address a customer’s problem or concern (this should include reaching out to a supervisor to find a solution).
Thank you for your attention to my feedback and please feel free to contact me if you have any questions.”
I don’t know if any of these suggestions will be implemented by the company, but I have no control over that. What is in my power is to inform them of my experience and to provide reasonable suggestions for improvement. In doing so, I have found a constructive outlet for my frustration.
Family tip: Mortgage loan rates have been at historic lows, but it’s harder to qualify for a loan. Shop a number of lenders including banks, credit unions and online lenders for the most competitive rates and lowest closing costs. Ask questions of the loan processor along the way, and make sure you understand every step of the process. Don’t be afraid to go to a supervisor if you’re having issues.
Family quote: “You’re not that powerful; you’re not the king of the world.” Our 8-year-old, Kristie, to her 10-year-old brother, Kevin.
E-mail comments to ray@raywong.info or through my website: www.raywong.info. My memoir, “Chinese-American: A Journey of Discovery” will be published by Kitsune Books in 2013
A Holiday Gift
By Ray M. Wong
Some people stay with a reader long after the last page of a book is finished. In Mitch Albom’s “Tuesdays With Morrie: An Old Man, a Young Man, and Life’s Greatest Lesson,” we come to know such a person. Morrie Schwartz, a sociology professor at Brandeis University, taught and became a mentor to an undergraduate student named Mitch Albom in the 1970s. Almost twenty years later, Albom reconnects with his former professor after learning Schwartz is suffering from amyotrophic lateral sclerosis (ALS), the same disease that killed Lou Gehrig.
Albom meets with his dying former professor on Tuesdays, and in those meetings, they talk about forgiveness, marriage, family, the fear of aging, death, emotions, culture and love. Schwartz gives his perspective on life through the lens of a man on his deathbed, and Albom, a go-getting sports journalist, discovers the importance of slowing down and appreciating the preciousness of life through his renewed friendship with Schwartz.
The two men have a genuine regard for each other. Through their meetings they rediscover their unique bond in a time of crisis. Albom brings his journalistic eye to the disease, providing the reader with an inside account of Schwartz’s deteriorating condition: Schwartz can barely hold his breath in a demonstration for his former student, he suffers intense coughing spasms that can last for hours, he loses movement in his body to the point where someone has to wipe him after he’s helped to the bathroom. The book’s heart and soul is not the chronicling of an old man’s suffering by a journalist, but the self-discoveries of a young man taking part in a unique relationship. Albom is honest about succumbing to the rat race of life, his climb up the ladder of wealth and status, friends and a former teacher he has left behind in his unrelenting pursuit of success.
Schwartz’s condition necessitates a slower pace. He tells Albom that there are more important things than ambition. He gazes out the window of his house while talking to Albom: “I look out that window every day. I notice the change in the trees, how strong the wind is blowing. It’s as if I can see time actually passing through the window-pane. Because I know my time is almost done, I am drawn to nature like I’m seeing it for the first time.”
Schwartz conveys the importance of family: “The fact is, there is no foundation, no secure ground, upon which people may stand today if it isn’t the family. It’s become quite clear to me as I’ve been sick. If you don’t have the support and love and caring and concern that you get from a family, you don’t have much at all.”
Albom reflects on his younger brother, Peter, who journeys to foreign countries to seek treatment for his cancer. Peter goes away and shuts himself off from his family. Albom wants to contact Peter, to offer support and love, yet he’s helpless because Peter will not allow him in. It weighs on Albom’s mind and his heart.
Schwartz senses this unease and counsels Albom to bide his time because he believes Albom will reconnect with his brother.
Soon after Schwartz’s death, Albom calls his brother in Spain. Albom reaches out: “You’re my only brother. I don’t want to lose you. I love you.”
Albom receives a fax from Peter. It’s humor-filled and genuine. It’s a start of a relationship. Albom is clear. His connection with Schwartz, the friendship formed, the life lessons imparted, gives Albom the courage to speak to Peter, to voice his truth.
Albom’s writing style is spare, unadorned. His purpose is not to show off his flowery writing; it’s to tell Schwartz’s story, to bring the man to life through his words and actions. That’s the essence and the beauty of this book: the friendship and bond between Schwartz and Albom in their final weeks together, the lessons that go beyond the classroom, the love of two people that transcends death.
Family tip: Another book that would make a great holiday gift is “Tattoos on the Heart: the Power of Boundless Compassion” by Gregory Boyle. Boyle, a Jesuit priest, founded Homeboy Industries, a nonprofit that gives former gang members a chance to change their lives.Family quote: “Do we get to take a break?” 7-year-old Kristie before starting yard work with her brother on the back patio.
E-mail comments to ray@raywong.info or through my website: www.raywong.info.
Thankful
By Ray M. Wong
Thanksgiving is when we can get away from work, watch some football, carve a lot of turkey and buy stuff on Black Friday. It’s also a time to reflect and appreciate the blessings in our lives. For me those blessings begin with my wife, Quyen. We’ve been married since 1998 and she is the bedrock of our family. She keeps us together. She wakes up in the morning to prepare my breakfast and the lunch I bring to work. At the same time, she’s getting Kevin and Kristie ready for school and fixing their breakfast and the lunches they take with them. She is there for me whenever I need her. She listens to me when I have problems and massages my neck after a stressful day at work. She’s my best friend and the person I trust the most in this world.
I’m also grateful for our son, Kevin. He’s ten years old now, and Quyen and I were just reflecting on how it didn’t seem that long ago that he was an infant rolling around on the floor from one end of the family room to the other because he was too chubby to crawl. He and I play Monopoly, trying to gobble up as much property as possible around the board. He tricks me by running out of money when he lands on my Boardwalk with a hotel, then goes into his “secret stash” to come up with the rent. I want to play catch with our baseball gloves, and he wants to play Wii basketball – me as the Lakers and him as the Celtics. He’s sensitive and knows when I’m “glum.” He’s responsible and does his homework. The thing I’m most proud of is that he’s a good, caring person. This isn’t anything I did; I can’t accept responsibility for that. It’s his nature. It’s who he is.
I’m thankful for our daughter, Kristie. She’s about to turn eight, and she is a doll, an entertainer, a cute complainer and she is Kevin’s sister and friend. The two of them are close, and that’s a special joy for me because I’ve never been that close to my own siblings. I can see that as my children grow, they will always support each other. I have no doubt about this. Kristie will tell me when I’m being too hard on Kevin, and he will return the favor when I’m being too hard on his sister.
Kristie is a little princess. She reads all the time and will not let me go a night without a bedtime story or a lullaby that she pronounces, “banullaby.” She writes stories and poetry. She likes gymnastics and doing cartwheels. Both Quyen and I know that whatever Kristie sets her mind to do, she will accomplish because she is bright and charismatic, and she has a special quality of making people feel comfortable around her.
There are many blessings in my life, and for me, the heart of my gratitude begins with my family. Thank you for letting me share these blessings with you.
Family tip: Appreciate the blessings. Writing about them keeps me grounded and wrapped in a cozy blanket of gratitude.
Family quote: “Did they have electricity when you were a kid, Daddy?” – Kristie.
Ray M. Wong is a freelance writer. His memoir, “Chinese-American: A Journey of Discovery” will be published by Kitsune Books in 2013. E-mail comments to ray@raywong.info or through his website: www.raywong.info
Night and Day
By Ray M. Wong
I’ve discovered how much customer service matters. A few months ago my wife, Quyen, and I initiated a home refinance through Wells Fargo. Like many homeowners throughout America, we are upside down on our mortgage because home values have plummeted over the past four years. Thus we were only eligible to apply for a loan in the Home Affordability Refinance Program through our current lender. Still a refinance would lower our monthly mortgage payment so we started the process. Because the lending standards have become more exacting since the “stated income” days when a borrower could basically declare whatever income they wanted without any documentation of it, the loan process took time. At the point where we were set to sign loan documents, a hiccup occurred. There was some sort of miscommunication between our loan processor and the home mortgage consultant who originally took our application. Our rate lock expired.
The home mortgage consultant said we could begin a new loan because interest rates had actually declined since we started many months ago. Wells Fargo already had our documentation so it wouldn’t take much longer. I agreed and asked him to go forward at the lower rate. A couple weeks later, we received a good faith estimate that indicated a much higher interest rate. I e-mailed the loan mortgage consultant about the rate. I didn’t get a response. I e-mailed again. Nothing.
Because this was a new loan, Wells Fargo had assigned a different loan processor named Abbie Sullivan to serve as middle-person between us and the home mortgage consultant. She kept in contact with me and kept asking if I had heard back from the consultant. When it became apparent, we were not going to get a response, she contacted both her supervisor and the consultant’s supervisor. We finally received an e-mail from the consultant saying he had made an error on our application, and we were stuck with the higher interest rate. Sorry, there was nothing he could do.
I asked to speak to his supervisor. I received one return call on my voicemail at work from this supervisor. After numerous attempts on my part, I was unable to reach this man. I e-mailed him and received no response. I was thinking that the Occupy Wall Street movement should definitely include camping out on the step of the major banks. Then I went to the supervisor’s supervisor, a man named Tom Hornick, and explained the predicament. He listened to my concerns and checked into the mistake. He soon informed us Wells Fargo would honor the lower rate because of the consultant’s error. He apologized for the inconvenience.
The home mortgage consultant and his immediate supervisor basically disregarded their customer and took no responsibility for a mistake made by a Wells Fargo employee, one that was going to cost the customer a considerable amount of money. Abbie Sullivan and Tom Hornick took action to correct the mistake made by the consultant and fixed the problem. As the customer in this situation, I have seen the difference between insensitivity and respect, between apathy and resolve, between disregarding a problem and accepting personal responsibility. Let me tell you; the difference matters.
Family tip: For those who are underwater on their mortgage, President Obama recently unveiled a new plan to help homeowners refinance with a streamlined process and lower fees. It modifies the Home Affordability Refinance Program and is expected to begin as early as this December. Your loan must be owned by Fannie Mae or Freddie Mac and borrowers may not have missed a payment in the past six months. Check with your lender.
Family quote: “I want an allowance.” Our 10-year-old son, Kevin.
E-mail comments to ray@raywong.info or through my website: www.raywong.info
Community Spirit
By Ray M. Wong
One of my personal values is to help our community. I work at a community college, and I’ve talked to my students about the fact that I want them to be successful in school. I discuss the importance of establishing a good career so they can take care of themselves and their families. But I tell them it doesn’t end there. I encourage my students to envision a career that is fulfilling and provides a good living. Then I urge them to look at the community and see how they can make a difference. My belief is we are here to make a difference, to help others, to create a better world.
I recently enrolled in a Masters of Fine Arts program in creative writing at Antioch University Los Angeles. One of the reasons I chose this program in particular is they have a social justice perspective. I want to be a better writer, but I also want my writing to make a difference. Antioch expects its students to make a positive impact in our society, to engage the community, to educate, to help those who are marginalized. That resonated with me.
A few months ago, I decided that if helping the community is a personal value, I needed to walk the talk, so I started volunteering at Meals on Wheels (MOW). I wanted to do something to help my community in a way which would involve my kids, and they told me I could have Kevin and Kristie help deliver the meals to the elderly in East County.
One Saturday a month, I give out the MOW badges to my children, the ones that have their printed names with the title “World’s Greatest Volunteer” on them. We drive to the MOW office in El Cajon and pick up our route assignment and the coolers with the food to be delivered. Since I don’t have a GPS (check out my previous family column on my take about the down side of technology), Kevin reads directions from the route book to me as I’m driving. Many of our deliveries are at mobile home parks, so he guides me to the right address. Once we arrive at the location Kevin, Kristie and I divvy up the food – Kristie gets the dinners, Kevin the sack lunches and I carry the drinks. We knock on the door. Since some seniors are hearing impaired, I shout out, “Meals on Wheels!” and the kids follow suit in delighted fashion. It’s one of the few times they can yell without hearing a lecture from me.
We greet the residents and they instruct us where to put the food. We ask how they’re doing, and the seniors seem pleased to see children helping out. When we get back to the car, Kristie inevitably says, “How did I do, Daddy?” After I tell her what a wonderful job she did, Kevin always chimes in with, “How about me, Daddy?” and of course I inform him he’s the best navigator around.
It takes us a little over an hour to complete our route and return the coolers to the MOW office. I ask the kids how they feel helping the community, and they tell me how great it is. I can see they really like it. Then Kristie puts everything into perspective by saying, “I’m hungry, Daddy, let’s get something to eat.”
Family tip: For those who want to help deliver meals to seniors, check out the website: http://www.meals-on-wheels.org/meals/ or phone: (619) 260-6110 or (800) 573-6467
Family quote: “I really want a Subway sandwich because I haven’t had it since I tasted it.” 7-year-old Kristie.
E-mail comments to ray@raywong.info or through my site: www.raywong.info
Integrity
A recent experience brought an epiphany. I had a disagreement with a neighbor a few months ago. Based on his hostile reaction to the situation, I didn’t feel comfortable having my daughter, Kristie, continue to play with a girl in the neighbor’s care. He kept sending the girl to ask my daughter to play, and I kept saying no. I explained the situation to Kristie, and she said she understood. The neighbor’s girl kept coming over, so I went to the neighbor’s house and asked him in front of the girl to stop sending her over because I wasn’t comfortable with it. I had set a boundary and communicated it directly. The neighbor hasn’t spoken to me since.
By Ray M. Wong
Integrity – Webster’s (New Collegiate Dictionary, 1977) definition: firm adherence to a code of esp. moral or artistic values.
My personal definition – doing what’s right.
I read a column in “Dear Abby” a few years back that captured the essence of the word “integrity” better than anything I had seen. She told of a father who stood in line with his 8-year-old son to attend a sporting event. An adult friend accompanied them. When the father got to the window the cashier asked his son’s age because kids 7 and under received free admission. The father said his son was 8. Later, the friend asked the father why he didn’t say his son was 7 because the cashier wouldn’t have known the difference. The father replied, “Maybe not, but I would and so would my son.”
I have an internal compass; it tells me if I’m living according to my values: responsibility to my wife and family; working to empower those who have less money, power or resources, seeking truth in my writing, pursuing my passion and encouraging others to find theirs, honesty.
Throughout my life, I’ve been a people pleaser. I looked at how people responded to me to determine how I should feel about myself. If others approved or liked me, I felt okay. If they didn’t, I must’ve been doing something wrong. My rational mind knew this wasn’t the truth, but inside my gut where feelings originate, it didn’t register. I would take on guilt or shame and try to “fix” the problem. This never worked because the problem wasn’t mine, yet I made it so.
I asked myself if I was living in integrity: Was I being honest? Yes. Was I taking care of my family and me? Yes. Did I purposefully do anything to harm someone? No. Then what was there to feel bad about?
There will always be people who don’t like me or my actions. That needs to be okay because I can’t make everyone happy, nor should I try. That would be sheer insanity, and I’ve lived too many years of my life in that kind of chaos. A better way to go about this circus called life is to ask if I’m living in integrity. If not, I can try to right the ship, change my actions to align with my values. If I’m being true to my values, I need to give myself permission to feel all right regardless of how others react to me.
Family tip: I’m also teaching my children how to take care of themselves. I tell them if someone is upset with them, ask themselves if they have done something wrong. If so, change the action. If not, let it go. This even applies to their parents.
Family quote: “Daddy, you are very ferocious to me and Kevin, like when you yell at us, it’s very scary.” – My 7-year-old daughter, Kristie.
Send comments to ray@raywong.info or through my website: www.raywong.info
Inspiring and Humbling
By Ray M. Wong
Imagine being in your early forties, a writer and a poet, a distance runner. Now imagine suffering brain damage from a virus that takes every bit of your concentration to walk without falling on your face. Words that once flowed so easily from your mind to paper now crawl forward haltingly, scrambled, and often without coherence. You are disabled to the point where you can no longer work in public policy, and communicating is sometimes an exercise in folly because what you mean to say and the words that end up being heard are utterly different. This is the world of Floyd Skloot, and his book, “In the Shadow of Memories,” is a collection of essays that takes readers into his world.
Skloot writes about his condition with the candor of a man who has come to painstaking terms with himself. Though his illness has changed his life, he never sinks into self-pity. Just the opposite, he finds a new perspective on living: he and his wife move away from the hustle of Portland because the constant noise and frantic pace of the city aggravate his condition. They go to an isolated rural setting in Oregon where they are in harmony with nature. Skloot is forced to live in the moment because he loses much of his past due to the brain injury, and thinking ahead often lands him face-first on the pavement because his condition requires concentration to simply walk.
The act of writing, something that came naturally to him as a novelist and poet in his previous life, is transformed into a hardship. He needs to write in longhand and leaves spaces in his sentences because his damaged mind has difficulty conjuring the right words to convey his thoughts. He depends on his wife, Beverly, to proof his drafts for coherence, and it takes him 11 months to complete a single essay. Yet his finished pieces are works of art. They delve into what it’s like to be brain damaged. They recount the horror of his childhood beatings at the hands of his mother. They reveal the epiphany of a childhood moment when he sees his father come to terms with Skloot, a boy who no longer needs to be commanded. They show the irony and compassion in Skloot, a brain-damaged man, caring for his mother as she loses her memory to Alzheimer’s.
The essays are personal and touching, and Skloot’s language is pinpoint perfect. He describes seeing his father in the hospital after a horrific accident: “As I approached his bed, the smell overwhelmed me, blood and sweat and waste and vomit and disinfectant, a mixture of odors that forever defined loss for me.” He uncovers insights into his mother that only a son could convey: “When it became clear that my father would not, in fact, treat her the way she wished to be treated, would neither return her to her throne nor eradicate the uprisings all around her; that her two sons were tainted by associations with peasants, by strange appetites for Velveeta or football, by profanity and rock ‘n’ roll; and that time and the world were passing her by (it was already the 1950s!) without granting proper recognition; my mother’s frustrations grew unmanageable. Her eccentricities and flamboyance turned into open hostility and she became dangerous.” Skloot renders his brother’s acknowledgement of his impending death with a portrait: “The final image was taken a half year ago, after our last restaurant meal with Philip. He is at the head of the table, his wife beside him with her hand clasped in his, and a single red tulip juts from its vase, tilted toward them as though drawn to their warmth. I am next to Elaine (brother’s wife), looking across the table at my wife. We are all smiling. We seem almost giddy at being together. There is nothing held back and there are no questions in the air. His expression says I’ve had a good life.”
The reader has the sense that these last two sentences could just as aptly be about Floyd Skloot.
Family tip: To read more about Floyd Skloot, visit http://home.comcast.net/~fskloot/bio.html
Family quote: “Which is better: hope, faith, or Darth Maul?” Our 10-year-old, Kevin.
Send comments to ray@raywong.info or through my website www.raywong.info
The Best Thing That Ever Happened To Me
By Ray M. Wong
Quyen and I exchanged wedding vows thirteen years ago, and we held our reception at a Chinese restaurant with 200 guests. Quyen glowed brighter than her sparkling, red-sequined gown as we made our way together to the parquet floor for our first dance. A hush descended over the entire restaurant when I took my new bride’s white-gloved hand and held her close. Gladys Knight’s “The Best Thing That Ever Happened to Me” played in the background, and the world disappeared. Quyen and I held each other and swayed like flowers in a soft swirling breeze to a song that captured how I felt to be married to a woman I loved more than life itself.
On Labor Day Sunday, Gladys Knight performed at Harrah’s in North County, and I took Quyen to see the singer who serenaded us on the dance floor of our first night as husband and wife. On stage in front of a packed open-air concert arena, Gladys Knight gave meaning to the songs that earned her seven Grammys. Quyen and I sat beside each other under a silvery lit moon; we held hands like love-struck teenagers and took in a performance worthy of the word “star.”
Knight spoke not to the crowd, but to the people in the audience, like two friends in a quiet café engaged in an intimate conversation around candlelight. She took us back to Motown and an earlier era, when women couldn’t be too forward. They needed to wait on guys to make the move. And with a humorous glint in her eyes, she told us some of those guys moved a bit too slow. She told tender stories of loss and love and urged us to treat each other with kindness, to bring more light into the world. She moved us with her words and lyrics and touched us with her soul.
Knight introduced two harmonists who sat beside her on stools and accompanied her to a rousing rendition of “I’m Not Your Superwoman.” She brought out Al Green to perform an inspiring duet of “Yesterday” by the Beatles. When Knight spoke of how, sometimes, things go sour in relationships, she conveyed the grief of every person who has ever experienced a breakup. Her song, “Neither One of Us,” seemed to reach down into the depths of her very being and brought the crowd to a standing ovation.
The highlight of an evening of highlights came when Knight performed the song Quyen and I danced to at our reception – a song that brought tears to my eyes, because I can honestly say thirteen years after marrying Quyen, that she’s the best thing that ever happened to me.
Family quote: Lyrics from “Best Thing That Ever Happened to Me” by Gladys Knight & the Pips --
“If anyone should ever write my life story
For whatever reason there might be
Oh, you'll be there between each line of pain and glory
'Cause you're the best thing that ever happened to me”
Send comments to ray@raywong.info or through my website www.raywong.info
Walking the Talk
By Ray M. Wong
I’ve enrolled in a Masters of Fine Arts program at Antioch University Los Angeles. It’s a low-residency MFA in that there are 5 ten day residencies spread over two years, and I take part in online discussions with a peer group and mentoring with a faculty author in between. This allows me to keep working at my job, and my family is grateful because it means we will still have the ability to pay our electric bill and buy groceries while I’m studying.
Why did I enroll in this program? The first thought that comes to mind is because I want to make writing my career. In order to do that, I need to not only hone my writing skills, which this MFA is doing, but I want to read and become an expert in literature. That’s something else this program is providing me. Each term, I will read 10 books in my genre (creative nonfiction) and write annotations of these works. We also hold online discussions of books so we can analyze the author’s writing techniques, what worked, what didn’t.
I am required to submit writing to my faculty mentor on a regular basis, and he critiques my work with an eye toward helping me to become a better writer. I have found this extremely valuable because I’m getting the objective feedback of a seasoned and published author. The way he looks at my work helps me to see it through a new lens, and I’m applying what I’m learning.
Antioch also has a social justice perspective to their education. They believe it is our duty to help our community, to battle social injustice by illuminating an issue as scribes, by taking action to educate people about social problems and work toward solutions. In that vein, I’m expected to do a field study where I promote social justice through volunteerism. I have to walk the talk.
I have been talking about being a writer for many years. I have taken some steps by publishing stories in books, magazines and newspapers. I am writing a family column on a regular basis. I have completed a memoir I’m proud of. Now I’m embarking on an educational journey by studying for an MFA in creative writing. The dream is there. I can see it like the faces of my own children, touch it like the distinct feel of my wife’s hand in mine as we stroll along the shore in Coronado, taste it like a sweet, succulent strawberry. There’s no turning back.
Family tip: for those interested in writing memoir or nonfiction personal narrative, check out the book “The Situation and the Story” by Vivian Gornick. It is filled with helpful insights into the process of writing nonfiction and useful examples to illustrate her key points.
Family quote: “Our house has an ant infestation.” – Our ten-year-old son, Kevin. If any readers out there have a safe and effective non-pesticide solution to ants, please e-mail it to me at ray@raywong.info or through my website, www.raywong.info. I will test these with our ant problem and post the most effective solution in a future column.
A Lizard in the House
By Ray M. Wong
“Ray, come here.” My wife, Quyen, called out to me from the house as I was pulling clover weeds in the front yard. Her use of my first name and not the customary “Honey” told me this was a serious matter.
I dropped the garden shovel into the round plastic container holding the clovers I had dug up from the ice plant and went directly through the open garage door into the laundry room.
“Daddy, there’s a lizard in the house!” Our seven-year-old, Kristie, conveyed this with the excitement of a child announcing her birthday to the world.
“Yeah, Daddy, it’s huge.” Our 10-year-old, Kevin, chimed in with equal exuberance.
Quyen, in the kitchen, spread her hands apart to indicate the length of a large-mouthed bass. Then she pointed to the loveseat in the family room and said, “It’s behind there.”
I went into the garage to put on my work gloves and get the stick I carried on family walks around our neighborhood to protect us from mountain lions and coyotes in the surrounding canyons. Then I armed my wife with a broom and Kevin with a plastic yellow wiffle bat.
“What about me? How come I don’t get a weapon, Daddy?” Kristie said.
I went back into the laundry room and brought Kristie a short-handled whisk broom. Her approval registered on her face. Our family was now prepared to do battle with the marauding invader.
I opened the sliding door beside the loveseat so the intruder could escape into the back yard. Next, I pulled the loveseat away from the wall and stepped gingerly onto the cushions to peek behind the back of the loveseat.
“Be careful, honey,” Quyen said.
I gave her a thumb’s up to indicate her fearless husband had matters well in hand. I peered over the loveseat and saw the creature crouched against the wall. It was big and chubby, with scaly desert-dry skin, and large, black zigzag rings that made me think of Charlie Brown’s shirt.
I reached over the loveseat with my walking stick and touched the lizard’s tail with the tip. Instead of scurrying through the opened sliding door, the pesky reptile went under the loveseat and through the other side to scamper along the rug in a twisty, jerky jaunt to hide beneath the stuffed Winnie the Pooh in the middle of the family room.
Kristie screamed with a tone of frightened glee, and Quyen hurtled onto the sofa to safety. Kevin stood with his feet rooted to the ground, mouth agape.
I descended from the loveseat wielding the stick and was about to lift Pooh up to get at the enemy when Quyen said, “Wait.”
My hand froze in mid-extension.
She stepped over the arm of the sofa onto the floor and went into the garage. She brought back the now empty plastic container I had been using to hold the discarded clovers and handed it to me.
I gave my stick to Quyen and positioned my family around the denizen’s Pooh hideout. Slowly, carefully, I lifted Pooh into the air, and the lizard monster stayed still. Fast as a sprung trap, I dropped the container, opened side down, around the lizard.
“Yeah, you got him, Daddy!” Kristie said.
Quyen let out a long, relieved sigh.
Kevin said, “Now what, Daddy?”
I looked at him, then at my wife and Kristie and tried to hide my unadulterated uncertainty. Finally, I tossed Pooh onto the couch and knelt on the carpet with both hands around the container. I slowly slid the container toward the sliding door and heard the thrashing of the riled inmate as the moving prison came in contact with him.
At the lip of the sliding glass door track, I gestured for my family to be ready with their weapons in case the unwelcomed guest tried to make a dash back into the house. Then I lifted the container’s edge near the door track, and the lizard wasted no time in hightailing it onto the patio and through the backyard.
I hurriedly slid the sliding glass door closed and was immediately mobbed by my grateful family for the courageous and heroic efforts to protect them from the dire threat of the wayward lizard.
Family tip: keep a round, plastic container around the house just in case.
Family quote: “I want to get a pet, Daddy.” – 7-year-old Kristie.
E-mail comments to ray@raywong.info or through my website, www.raywong.info.
A Dream Come True
By Ray M. Wong
On Monday, July 25th, I received some news that rocked my world, and I want to tell you about it, but first, let me give you some background. In 1996, I took a trip to Hong Kong and Mainland China with my mother, and it changed my life. It was the first time I had seen Hong Kong since I was five, and let’s just say that everything I’ve spent my life running from – my culture, my language, my people, my family – hit me in the face full force. I met my father for the first time since I was a little boy, and though we couldn’t talk to each other, he was my flesh and blood. I came to know his family and the people and culture where he lived – where my mother and I lived for the first five years of my life.
I learned about my mother’s past, and as strange as it sounds, because I was 33 at the time, I really didn’t know her until we went back to where my life began. I visited the grave of my father’s parents and my mother’s parents, and it left an indelible impression – it told me who I was, it told me I didn’t have to keep running, it told me that my name was Raymond Man-Kit Wong, and I could be proud of that.
When I returned to America, I picked up a pencil and paper and began to write. Although I had written many short stories and essays, I had never entertained the idea of a book. But when those first words appeared on the page, I heard a voice I wanted to follow, an urgent, intimate voice.
Over a year later, I completed a 300 page manuscript that chronicled those three amazing weeks in Hong Kong and China. I had written a book, a memoir. Then as any writer knows, I was just beginning. The first draft is the inspiration; the revision is the perspiration that goes into making a book. I re-worked it, reworked it again, the whole manuscript, first page to last – probably 10 to 15 times before sending it out and receiving my first rejection, the first of many.
Agents turned it down, publishers, small presses, literary journals turned down my excerpts. I have a stack of rejections. So I kept revising, combing, removing chapters, making sure it was as good as I could make it. And like a badgering neighbor, I grew sick of the book. I put it away. But it was an insistent child, and kept tugging me back, “Daddy, wake up. We need to go. We have work to do.”
The first breakthrough happened in 2006. The literary journal at San Diego City College published an excerpt. In 2010, an excerpt appeared in “Chicken Soup for the Soul: Thanks Mom.”
I started working with a literary agent in 2006. We submitted my memoir to a few publishers in New York, and I added to my rejection pile. My agent suffered some health issues, so I set about researching smaller, independent publishers myself. I sent my child out into the world again and again.
On Monday, July 25th, 2011, thirteen years after completing my first draft, I received an e-mail from a small, independent publisher in Florida. They want to publish my book in 2013. I don’t have the words to describe the feeling as I read that e-mail. All I can say is some dreams do come true.
Family tip: Find your dream, follow it, work hard, and keep going. I cannot promise that you will achieve your heart’s desire, but if you’re true to yourself, you’ll enjoy the journey.
Family quote: “Yeah, now maybe Mommy can stay home from work.” – Our ten year old, Kevin, upon hearing about my book being accepted for publication.
E-mail comments to ray@raywong.info or through my website www.raywong.info.