Theory Of The Mighty Chicken

My older sister dropped out of school when she was a teenager.  Every one day of her working meant one day of school for her three younger siblings, and for our family to stay in our home.  Her strength, her determination, courage and sacrifice pathed the way for our family to step out of poverty.  She is my personal Momoe Yamaguchi.

For many years, the lack of formal education was a source of regret for her.  My dear sister often overlooks her many strengths, thinking they are nothing significant.  At the same time, she is envious of the skills that others have.  It makes her feel like she is hugely deficient as a person.

She once lamented how limited her creativity is, compared to her teenage classmates in a pottery class.  "What were you doing as a teenager?  What are your classmates doing as teenagers?  These people started visiting museums with their parents as little children.  Where did our parents take you when you were a little kid?  It is not a fair comparison." I reminded her.  

In Cantonese, there is a slang we use to describe people who are really not good at something -- "chicken".  Interestingly, it is an adjective, not a noun.   

During a recent conversation, my sister talked to me about something that she is not good at.  I congratulate her for being "chicken".

"Congratulations to me?  What is there to be happy about being 'chicken'???"

So, I explained to her my Self Improvement Theory of the Mighty Chicken.

For any self-driven person, inevitably, there is a constant feeling of being "chicken".  

Take Aikido training as an example: the eyes' ability to see always precede the hands' ability to do.  If you cannot even perceive the qualitative difference between what the teacher is showing and what you are doing, there is little hope that you can ever become good.  The moment a student feeling chicken and asks: "Why am I not doing what the teacher is doing?  Why can't I do what he is doing?  How can I learn to do it?" That spark is what starts the journey of self improvement.

In order for the chicken hands to reach, one has to move the chicken feet.  This is the beginning of the end -- the end of being chicken.

Who does not wants to be good at something?  But being good at something takes a lot of hard work.  Not everybody is ready or willing to work for it.  Some people try for a little while, but then stop not long afterwards.  The moment they realize they are ahead of a few people, they start thinking, "At least I am not at the bottom."  So, it is not that they do not know that they are chicken or are aspired to quit the chicken league.  They just do not want to be the bottom chicken.  

If you don't feel the hunger, you would not look for food.  If you are not thirsty, you would not get up to drink water.  If you do not ever feel like a chicken, why would you seek to improve yourself?  The question is always: How much do you want it?  You keep walking, you will be out of the chicken coop soon.  Those who sit there to growl will always be there to growl.  They will never leave the chicken coop.  

Although my sister lost some time during her youth, she still has the fire in her chest and she is asking all the right questions.  In my mind, she has never been chicken.  Given the drive she has demonstrated, I am sure she won't feel like chicken for much longer.  💖