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Sensei Kim.
    “The best in the class? Really?”
    For some reason, she never mentioned that phone call to Lee.
     
     

3 | “Don’t Expect Him to Change”
     
     
    In June of 1977, Lee unceremoniously received his high school diploma in the mail. By that time, he had earned his brown belt in karate, something that went unrecognized by his family. He relished the sport and discovered early on that it involved much more than learning how to kick and punch for the purpose of self-defense. Mental development was also an essential aspect to it, as well as unifying the mind, body, and spirit—concepts that he quickly grasped but terrified him at the same time.
    One week after he received his diploma, his parents asked him to join them in the parlor. The setting made Lee nervous—they rarely asked him to join them in the parlor, and when they did, it always meant there would be a difficult conversation to come.
    His parents were sipping their usual after-dinner port. His father didn’t waste any time asking Lee what his plans were now that he had finished high school. It wasn’t as though his father hadn’t asked that question before, and Lee knew he now had to do something besides petition for more time. The painful look on his mother’s face made him even more nervous.
    “Believe it or not, I have a plan, Father.” Lee had dreaded this conversation for months and wondered if he would be able to get through it without vomiting, passing out, or going into a full-blown panic attack. “Oakton Community College offers a variety of horticulture classes, and they also have a karate team.”
    Lee avoided eye contact with either parent as he held his breath waiting for their reaction. When he did look at them, his eyes darted back and forth between his mother’s pursed lips and the enlarged vein in his father’s neck. Seconds of silence felt like hours.
    “What’s wrong with the University of Wisconsin?” his father asked. “I told you I can get you in there.” His father was a UW alumnus, member of the Bascom Hill Society, and major donor.
    “I understand why you might want to consider community college as opposed to a regular college,” his mother interjected. “Given the fact you’ve been home-schooled your entire life, attending a four-year college might be a bit overwhelming. And then of course, there are your grades. Will you consider transferring to a regular college after two years?”
    “Let me get this straight. Are you telling us—”
    “Henry, let Lee respond to my question first...please.”
    “I’m not thinking that far ahead, Mother.”
    “Figures,” his father grumbled. “I don’t understand why—”
    His mother finished the sentence. “Why horticulture, dear?”
    “I think it’s an honorable field of study. Studying the soil, plant propagation and breeding, cultivation and environmental factors. The world needs people who understand this.”
    His father got up to leave.
    “Where are you going, Henry?”
    “Out for a walk.”
    “Don’t worry about him, Mother,” Lee said when he heard the front door close. “He has never believed in me or supported any of my decisions up to this point. Don’t expect him to change now.”
    Lee left the parlor for the dining room and stood in the shadow of the massive antique breakfront, one of his several safe havens for eavesdropping on his parents. He had learned over the years that this was sometimes the only way to find out what they were thinking.
    Twenty minutes later, his father returned.
    “Did you have to walk out on him at this pivotal moment in his life, when he’s talking to us about his future?”
    “What future? Where can a sword-swinging, leg-kicking kid who has taken a few gardening classes from a community college go? What is that boy thinking?”
    “Henry, don’t you see it’s a start? We know he’s not like Bennett and Nelson, but Lee will succeed in life. It may take him a little longer than the others, but he will