Evenings.

It's finally that time of the day: evening. Not just any part of evening -- late evening, the part where I get to shut off, casually dive into the softness of my sheets, and feel my body instantly release the day's stress. I then, very carefully, let my head fall gently into the perfect opening amongst the labyrinth of pillows; the soft, fading scent of a floral candle wafts through the air. 

This, to me, is happiness. This, to me, is safety -- a time and place when I do not have to wonder if an email will arrive, its sender waiting impatiently for an urgent reply, or a knocking at my door, someone demanding my time and attention whilst taking with them a dose of my energy, one at a time.   

This, to me, is MY time. I do not have to give any portion of myself to anyone else. No one needs me in this moment. No one will demand anything from me in this moment. I can refill; I can finally give my attention to the one person I have forgotten about throughout the day: myself. 

Not only do I need this time, I crave it. I too often forget its importance. During this time I get to step out of my "roles", take off each layer of duty, and turn on my favorite tool: my imagination, also something I too often forget the importance of. 

I can feel it happening. Upon the union of head to pillow, I feel the day's version of myself leave my body like breath exiting the lungs, slowing pulling the veil off and allowing my mind to stand alone, unprotected, vulnerable, yet so clear and capable. 

As much as I fight the thought, I know that this is the part of me that few get to see. This is the part of me that makes me feel alive, yet I share it with no one, still uncomfortable at even the thought.

The memories of waking up at night with words and phrases soaring through my mind, itching so badly to get out, are distant yet vibrant. Nights where I awoke to sketch, to write, to let my imagination soar and breath into changing forms -- all memories now. I long to be woken up with this urgency again, someday. Tomorrow. Today. Tonight.

The time may not be clear, but the shift in subject is. 

I remember, for years, I loved evenings because my thoughts and developing dreams would consist of fantastical ideas of life, primarily of love. A princess at heart, I wanted to be swept off of my feet. I wanted for someone to see me and want me more than anything else in the world. I wanted to be someone's goal, someone's favorite being, forever. I created short film-like sequences in my mind each evening. I imagined every possible scenario of my own personalized prince charming coming into my life. I created each and every detail -- the angle at which he would see me from across the room, the feeling he would get deep in his gut upon the sighting, the background sounds creating the mood, the atmospherical lighting -- because to me, every detail was important. In that moment, everything would align. This, re-imagined, whether it be the person, the scenario, or the timing, was the subject of my evening thoughts and dreams. 

I do not know if time, experience, age, or life in general, has caused a shift in these late-night images, but somehow they have changed. My once clear visions of meeting that special person have faded and rarely, if ever, make a reappearance. Now, during this time of my day, my imagination is full of other scenarios. Rather than my inner princess drawing up moments of meeting prince charming, my inner warrior now imagines each and every detail of myself sitting on a late night show, explaining to the world the content of the novel I have written. I rewind and re-word the way I explain the importance of key events in my autobiography. I find more colorful ways to explain how the places I visited changed my life. I picture myself speaking to a group of wide-eyed listeners about the importance of fighting human trafficking and encourage them to join the coalition I have been a part of for years, using all the work we have done to save victims as an encouragement. These are my new dreams.

So here I lie, nestled in a place where I feel free to imagine. And I think, looking at the transition of my thoughts and desires, that I will always have a bit of my old dreams within me. Buried deep, carefully protected from others, I think they will always be a part of me. I reflect on the fact that my thoughts, upon the opening of my imagination, are now different. I do not judge what was or is, but I appreciate that in these moments, I can still feel alive. In these moments, I am reminded that I can leave everything else behind and create a world that makes me feel deeply happy; I can dream, as big of a dream as I desire, and it will never seem out of reach. Because it's finally that time of the day: evening.

Speak Up!

It has taken me much too long to write this post, but I continually put it off for numerous reasons. One, it is very personal. Two, it is an emotionally draining subject to discuss. Three, despite everything I believe in and know to be true, I was still afraid some might point fingers, judge, or understand the situation much differently than it happened. All of these reasons have made me feel it is necessary to share my story even more than I felt before.  So, here it is...

---------------Part 1: The Beginning---------------

Almost two and a half years ago, I was sexually harassed at the school I was teaching at in South Korea, which eventually led to police involvement, relentless harassment from the family of the accused, and emotional damage that has taken a long time to repair, and is still in the process of being repaired.

It all began slowly and progressed over time. When I first changed from an all-girls middle school to an elementary school, there was an older man (mid-40's - early 50's) working at the school who volunteered to help me move into my new apartment and welcomed me with kindness and a smile. He and another woman, neither able to speak English, both in charge of the office at my school, seemed eager to help and quite friendly upon our first meeting. Since these were the people sent to represent my new school, I thought I could trust them professionally. I was later proven wrong.

------------Cultural Differences--------------

Now, I must interrupt to explain a few cultural differences between Americans and Koreans throughout my story in order for you to completely understand. I must note that these understandings of cultural differences are based on my experience (2 summers working in Korea followed by 2 full years of living in Korea and working at a public, all-Korean school) and may not be subject to each individual, as with any cultural statement.  Let's begin with these:

1. Koreans are NOT touchy people between sexes. It is not common for men and women to even be friends, and when they are, they rarely touch--that kind of thing (touching/closeness) is reserved for girl-girl friendship, boy-boy friendship, or two people in a romantic relationship. They even have a name for it between same-sex friends: "skinship". Unlike many western cultures, Koreans sometimes find it confusing when men and women spend time together when they are not in a romantic relationship.

2. Korean culture includes very distinct hierarchies when it comes to age and status. To put it very generally: if you are older or have a higher position/job, you are in charge. There are even specific ways of greeting someone, pouring drinks, eating, etc. based on whether someone is older or younger than you or of higher or lower ranking than you.

3. Some Koreans' ideas of westerners come from movies and tv shows if they have not traveled often or if they have not worked with foreigners. So, as we all have seen in many films, the depiction of women is that they are very sexual, "easy", free, wild, etc. Though this is an offensive stereotype in many's minds, media has had a strong influence on some people's perspectives of what a western woman is and is not.

4. When some Koreans see someone with uncommon traits such as blonde hair, blue eyes, and "white" skin (their words, not mine), they feel very curious. I have had numerous people in public touch my hair or arms when I was not looking, students steal strands of my hair and play with the strands the rest of the day, etc. As do most people, they have a fascination with traits they do not see often. 

5. In Korea, your reputation is EVERYTHING. As you may have read, Korea has an extremely high suicide rate. This is caused by the intense pressure many Koreans feel to succeed. Once a person's reputation is tarnished, death seems like a better option than facing the consequences and moving on.

-------------Part 2: Progressively Worse--------------

As a new teacher at the elementary school, I tried to be positive, friendly, and happy to show I was enjoying being part of this new environment. I said hello to the teachers and workers who I knew, I smiled when passing students--all the normal actions a person would take once starting a new job. As time went on, and I continued being my normal self, I noticed that I had a few awkward moments with this male office worker in particular. One example is when I passed him in the hallway and he put his hand out. I thought he was waving, so I waved back. He then came up to me, grabbed my hand, and kissed it slowly while looking up at me and telling me I was beautiful. I figured the awkwardness might stem from cultural differences, something this person had seen in a film and thought was polite, and so I convinced myself of this and tried to move on. I was also afraid to address him and the situation, though I normally would have had it been a westerner, due to the cultural hierarchy in Korea.

The problem with ignoring moments that make you uncomfortable is that they can sometimes progress into more serious situations, which is what happened in my case. Over the course of a few weeks, this person started showing up in my "office" (an unused classroom at the far end of the school, furthest away from the Korean teachers I worked with, and far away from most classrooms). 

He has planned his visits carefully, visiting when the other teachers and students were out on sports days or away on field trips. These moments meant that I was alone and far away from any classroom with teachers in them. This male office worker's actions progressed into very uncomfortable moments including him trying to massage my shoulders, once even wrapping his arms around me from behind (unexpectedly) and lifting me up, saying he was checking my weight. He even tried to kiss me twice, once after I had just told him "No" and put my hand up to block him, him them moving my hand forcefully and trying again. These moments of harassment and unwanted attention took place at different times, but all while no one was around even if I needed help. Also, many of the incidents happened while I was sitting in my chair in the corner of my office where my desk was, unable to move away easily. In these moments, I felt so vulnerable and helpless. This person had invaded my space, not listened to me when I said no, and continued to do what HE wanted no matter how much I did not want any of it. I never knew one person could make me feel so small. 

-------------Part 3: What to Do-------------

After the last incident, where he tried to kiss me after I had told him "No!",  I sat in my office and cried. I felt completely defeated. I had made it clear that I did NOT want any of this, but he was persistent. I started to become scared of being alone in my office, in fear of him coming into my room again. With each visit, his actions had become more planned, more relentless, more aggressive. I was unsure of what he would try next.

I was torn between trying to fit into a culture/environment so far from/different than my own, and trying to stand up for what I knew was right and wrong. I had only been at the school for a few months by this point, and I did not want to ruin it. But, I knew I had to do something. So, shaking with nerves, I told my co-teacher, one of the only two English-speaking Koreans in the school. She immediately reassured me that this was not only unacceptable in western cultures, but was 100% shocking and unacceptable in Korean culture as well. 

After a discussion with the school principal, I was told that I had to report the incident to the police, based on the department of education's policy, but could drop the charges against the man once I filed the report. I did not want any hassle for the school or any harm done to anyone; I just wanted to the incidents to stop.

-------------Part 4: Problem Solved?-----------------

I spent three - four hours in the police station telling every detail of my story first to my co-teacher and then translated to the police officer. It was exhausting, uncomfortable, and embarrassing. I knew I had nothing to be embarrassed about, but being asked specific questions such as "How did he look at you when he kissed your hand?" or "What angle did he try to kiss you at?" would make anyone feel ill.

After filing the report, I met with the school Principal to write out a deal between me and this man in which I would drop the charges if he would stay away from me--actions recommended by my school. Again, I wanted to make it easy on the school and just protect myself from having to deal with the situation again, so this seemed like the best plan. It also allowed us to handle it within the school and not involve the police further. The man knew he was wrong, so our agreement was that I would sign the contract, drop the charges, and he would be required to stay away from me since he knew what he did was wrong and he was sorry. I figured everything was now solved.

-----------------Part 5: Lies/Deceit-----------------

About a week after I signed the contract, I (well, my co-teacher) got a call from the police station. They needed to speak with me again. I had no idea what for.

I went in, this time meeting with my co-teacher and an actual translator who worked for the police station, along with the police officer handling the case. The meeting began with similar questions as before--asking me for details about what had happened and how it happened. So again, I sat and recounted every uncomfortable detail again and waited for it to be translated into Korean. After many questions, the police officer finally came out with the reason he had called me in again: the man had denied ALL of my claims and said that I, YES--I, had sexually harassed him! SHOCK- TEARS - SHOCK - CRYING. Now, if any of you actually know me, you will know that I do not cry often. However, the moment the officer told me this, I burst out in an intense crying that I do not think I have ever experienced before, unable to catch my breath, unable to see, unable to speak. 

I was not only shocked by what he said, but sickened by the man's denial and accusations. I would NEVER try to put someone else in that type of situation at/in a work setting in a country that has such a conservative, hierarchical, respectful culture. This was a 50-something year old, married man with children! And he accused ME of harassing him!?! He not only denied everything that he did, but he accused me of making most of it up and then being the one who tried to wrap my arms around him, being the one who tried to kiss him. 

I instantly had flashbacks of myself sunken in my chair, waving my hand in front of my face as he stood behind me, hands grabbing my shoulders, trying to kiss me. Him, grabbing my hand and moving it forcefully out of the way when I tried to stop him and trying to kiss me again. I had given him NO indication previously or in the moment that I was even remotely interested in him in any way. I had told him "NO!" and it still did not stop him. Yet here he was, knowing what he did, and still lying to the police. 

It turns out that he had gone into the police station the DAY after I signed the agreement in school and then given his statement. He had waited for me to sign the paper saying I would drop the charges before he went in and lied to the police. This man not only sexually harassed me, but he manipulated me, took advantage of me, and tried to get away with it. 

I had been more than willing to drop the charges beforehand so it would not cause any harm in return, but this situation changed everything. Due to the lies told to the police on his part, the contract I had signed at school was now void. I told the police that I had tried to solve the problem on my own by not getting them involved, but obviously that did not work. So, I allowed the police to take it from there and leave me out of it. The next step and decisions would, from that point and on, be in their hands, not mine.

--------------Part 6:  The Harassment Continues--------------

For the next month or so, I was constantly harassed by the man's wife and daughter. They would show up at the school, demanding to speak with me. They would text me (though I do not know how they got my number). They would call me. They would write me notes and leave them for me. They would call the school daily, asking to speak to me since I wasn't answering their calls. One time they even showed up at my office door, after sneaking past the office workers, to try to confront me without anyone knowing. They were relentless. 

One day, they showed up at my school again, begging for me to meet with them. They chose a day when my co-teacher was gone so she could not tell them to leave (since she was the only one who could speak both Korean and English). Though I did not want to talk to them, I knew they would not stop harassing me unless I did. 

Now, imagine being a person living in a foreign country, unable to speak the language or communicate with anyone around you. You are the only English speaker working at your school, the only foreigner.  

Now, imagine having to sit down, look a man's wife and daughter in the eyes (two people who love this person dearly and believe every word he says, naturally) and tell them that their husband/father has sexually harassed you and lied about it to the police.

I have never in my life had to do something so emotionally painful. I had to watch this woman's face as her daughter translated every word I said. I honestly would not wish my position or theirs on anyone, not even on my worst enemy. It was one of the worst moments of my life. 

---------------Part 7: It Worsens-----------------

At the end of my meeting with the man's wife and daughter, they asked me repeatedly to drop the charges and sign a new contract with the man. I tried to explain to them that I did that once, but how I was then accused of sexually harassing him, so I could not take another chance. I told them that this time I wanted the Korean police to handle it, and that I wanted no part in it. They were upset, but seemed to understand, or so I thought.

I received a slew of gifts and a thank you note a few days later. At this, I assumed the situation was somewhat resolved and that I would finally be able to deal with the emotional damage of the situation and move on. However, I was wrong.

About a week after the meeting, the wife and daughter started harassing me again, but this time, it was worse. I received calls and texts again, often. One day, I received a long text from the daughter trying to GUILT me into dropping the charges, saying that her father was now depressed and every time he went out on their high apartment balcony, she was worried he would jump and commit suicide. 

Here I am, age 26, living in a country alone, without anything familiar, with no family, working at a school as the only foreigner, now a victim of sexual harassment. And on top of that, I am being told that if I don't give up what I believe is right and give in to the current harassment, then I would be responsible if that person commits suicide? It will be my fault? I was being made to feel guilty by the same person who not only sexually harassed me, but also lied to police and told them that he did nothing and that I sexually harassed him instead?  

A grown man not only took advantage of me, but he also used his family to try and guilt me into making a decision I did not agree with - a decision that did not only go against my morals/beliefs, but also could have left me in a lot of danger.

Although I was hurt and upset, I thought long and hard about what to do next. I felt so incredibly torn. I wanted to stand up for myself and stay true to what I believed was right, but I did not want to cause any pain to anyone, especially an innocent mother and daughter. I also did not want to be the cause of someone's suicidal thoughts. I did not intend for anything like this to happen. I cried so many times, distraught over the pressure of a family's happiness and someone's life being in my hands. 

And then one day, after endless prayers and tears, it hit me -- this was NOT my fault. I did nothing wrong in the situation, yet I was carrying the weight of it. I had even tried to right it by signing the first contract, to avoid any more hurt, and then got deceived and taken advantage of again, causing more damage. All of the pain and hurt that was being brought in and put on to everyone involved in the situation was his fault, not mine. I knew I had to let the Korean authorities handle the situation since I had tried and it did not work. And I also knew that it was wrong to let myself take on the extreme guilt of causing so much pain when I had done nothing wrong. 

If I could describe how devastating and heavy this whole situation was to deal with, then I would. But part of me has blocked this out now, not wanting to revisit it, in hopes to never feel the same way again. 


---------------Part 8: Moving On-----------------
I haven't told many people about the situation due to the sensitivity of the topic for me and the fear of judgment. It is sad that although I did nothing wrong, I still feel as if I should be embarrassed or worried that others will judge me for it. That only adds to the pain of the situation.  I never even told my family. It was not because I did not want them to know, but for many other reasons. I did not want to make them worry, especially because I would be staying in the same country at the same school for another 7 months. 

But also, I honestly couldn't talk about it. I still cannot talk about it -- that is why I had to write it down. I started this blog post over two years ago, and it has taken me the entire two years to finally dig up enough courage to finish and publish it. I would start writing then have to stop. Then I would come back and add a little more, then have to stop. It is not the best quality, but I needed to finish it and release it, so that I can be released, too. It has been such a painful process, but I feel like sharing my story is better than pretending it never happened. 

What happened to me was not okay. And the worst part about the situation is that it was out of my control. I did nothing to bait this person or lead them on, I did not wear revealing clothes or act "sexy" or "tempting" for them. All of these are misconceptions about victims of sexual harassment, are horribly offensive, and make me literally feel sick when I hear them. But what I did do, what was IN my control, was that I told someone. I stood up for myself, said "No!", and said that what was happening was not okay and that I would not accept it.

HARASSMENT IS NEVER OKAY!  Whether it is sexual, emotional, psychological, or any other form of harassment/abuse. None of it is acceptable. No one deserves it, and it is not your fault if you become a victim of harassment/abuse. But we must all SPEAK UP! We live in a world that tries to silence us, that tries to make us accept something unacceptable. WE CAN CHANGE THIS. The more we SPEAK UP, the more others will know that we are not going to sit around and let this continue to ourselves or to others. 

If I would not have spoken up when I did, I am scared to think of how far the sexual harassment would have gone. But I am glad I never had to find out. Yes, speaking up caused even more harassment and it was painful and it hurt me, but what got me through it was the fact that I was fighting not only for me, but for all of those who have been in a similar, or even worse, situation. I knew that giving in would let that person think that what they did to me (or have done/will do to someone else) was/is okay. But it wasn't, isn't, and never will be. 

So please, SPEAK UP. Be bold, and do not be afraid. You have people who understand and who support and love you wherever you are. Let's not let anyone silence us!

New Year, Same _____ (Part 1)

2016. A new day, a new month, a new year, and a new opportunity for change. 

As every new year comes along, that is what most of us aim to do: change. Whether it be our weight, our health, our bad attitude towards the ass-kisser at work, etc., we all focus on areas of our lives that are in need of improvement. We examine ourselves with microscopic, critical lenses, picking out all that went wrong and all that could be better and think of ways to change. Then, per usual, we toast with glasses full of bubbling champagne as we set shaky, though well-intended, resolutions to make those changes. 

But, this year, I am going to do the reverse. I am going to focus on areas of my life that I DO NOT want to change, areas of my life that I want to preserve and keep as stable as possible amongst the whirlwind of changes around me. And, as you can probably guess, with my jet-setting, never-staying-in-one-place-too-long lifestyle, I am constantly surrounded, and sometimes consumed, by change. 

So, I want to share with you some of my "New Year, Same _______" Resolutions. Due to the fact that I am nearly incapable of writing or speaking about anything in a small amount of words, I will be breaking these resolutions up into separate blog posts -- You're welcome.
-------------------------------------------------------------------

1. NEW YEAR, SAME FAMILY.

My first "New Year, Same _____" Resolution is my Family. Yes, my heart and soul, my inspiration, my motivation: my family. 

Being away from family is rarely easy. Although I am a pretty independent person (no pun intended...hehe), I still have moments where I feel empty and I need a tall glass of family time to make me feel full again. 

I was reminded of this at the end of the fall term, 2015. I had just completed a full year in Sweden -- a new country, new language, new job, new culture, etc. EVERYTHING was different. Everything was especially different due to the fact that I had lived in Korea for the previous two years. The two countries couldn't be more different. But, as a person in my situation must do, I adjusted and survived. Despite my zest for travel and appetite for living in foreign countries, I still started to feel the wear and tear of being away from my family, especially when times got tough. Near the end of the term, I was on the verge of a nervous breakdown, literally. I was drowning in piles and piles of work, I felt overwhelmingly stressed and worn out from my job, I was tired physically and mentally, I had little to no free time for my friends, I felt depressed by the constant darkness, and I was honestly ready to say "Sayonara!" to the whole damn country and everyone in it.*  It was not my happiest moment, to say the least. Like I said, on-verge-of-nervous-breakdown. I knew I needed what matters most to me in life: my family.

 *I mean no offense to anyone, especially those I care about in Sweden, but a majority of expats most likely know exactly what I am talking about because we all get this overwhelming feeling every once in a while -- it is just part of living abroad, which I am fully aware of and voluntarily signed up for. I do not feel this way on a daily basis, just to be clear. Hey, we all have our moments.  

I would like to interject quickly to answer a question that some of you are probably thinking:  "If living abroad can be so stressful, and your family means the most to you in life, then why don't you just move back to the US?". Here's the thing -- I have the most incredible family. They are not perfect by any means, and I am not claiming that they are, but why I say they are "incredible" is because from my earliest memories up until now, I can only remember how loved they always made me feel. If I scan through my memories and look back at my life, there has not been a single moment where I did not feel love from my family. No matter what was happening in my life, not matter how many mistakes I made, no matter how far away I lived -- I always felt loved. THIS, my friends, is what I believe to be the KEY to life, especially to my life. This is what has given me confidence in myself and given me the confidence to move abroad on my own, to travel the world, to live my dreams, despite the difficulties this lifestyle brings. Because in reality, I never actually feel "alone" alone. I may look around an empty apartment when I am sick/stressed, crying into my cup of tea, and feel that "surface level" loneliness (the one you see in a comedy series and it doesn't make you feel sad, but kind of makes you laugh), but I never feel "alone" alone. 

Even if I cannot speak to my family, I can still feel their love. It may sound cheesy, but it is true. I think it is due to the fact that my family told me they loved me often, and they still do, daily. They also never let me think they didn't love me when I did something they disagreed with. They always made it clear that they were disappointed in my actions but that they still loved me, even when I was getting in trouble and even when they were angry with me. This distinction between the difference of disappointment and loss of love is what made all the difference. Also, they were sure to make it clear that they took the actions they did when I got in trouble because they loved me, not because they didn't love me. I will be forever grateful to my parents for this.

Through my experience as a teacher, I have seen what damage the lack of the distinctions mentioned above can have on a child. I have met and taught children and teens who felt that their parents did not love them--young people who acted out, desperately seeking attention from their parents, not even caring if it was negative or positive attention. I remember one student in particular, around 14 or 15 years old, who told me numerous stories I will never forget. She once told me how she would go out drinking with friends in the summer just so she could come home drunk in order to get her mother's attention. I was shocked and concerned when I heard this, naturally. When I asked her how her mom reacted, expecting to hear about how she was scolded and grounded for life, she replied, 'She ignored me. She pretended not to see me, and said nothing.'  She went on to explain something like, 'All I wanted was for her to notice me. I wanted her to see me, to yell at me, to do something.'  This broke my heart. 

It used to be nearly impossible for me to imagine that a parent could be different than my parents, that a parent could even be capable of being cruel to their child, that a parent could make their child feel unloved, or even worse that a parent could not love their own child -- these ideas were so far from what I knew. But, the more time I spent teaching, the more I saw that this type of emotionally damaging treatment was much more common than anyone probably even wanted to admit. I would say, during my 5 1/2 years of teaching, that a majority of the issues I have seen my students deal with have been caused by their parents. Whether it stems from abuse, lack of love, lack of attention, even lack of discipline, so many deep-rooted issues seem to come from this missing piece that I believe is essential to life. LOVE IS SO POWERFUL. This is one of the reasons that no matter how insane my students make me or how irritating they can be at times, I always try to let show them that I care, be it through positive feedback, discipline or something else. As cliche as it may sound, sometimes this type of kindness and attention is the only type they are getting in their lives. Love is powerful, but FEELING LOVED is even more powerful.

So, this is why I want in this new year to have the same FAMILY; I don't want them to change! Amongst the chaos of daily life and inevitable changes of the new year, I want to make sure that this one thing in particular stays the same. I was lucky enough this year to spend the holidays and ring in the new year with my family. During my visit, I was completely refilled with love and reminded of how incredibly incredible my family are. Every moment I spent with them felt special; every moment I spent with them made me happy. I am not sure if they even understood how much I needed their love when I came to visit, but they still gave me an abundance of it, regardless. 

I feel thankful every day for my family and for how loving and supportive they are and have been. I also feel thankful every day for the love that I feel for my family--because it is real, it is deep, and it is stronger than anything I have ever felt. Because of this, I know how important it is to hold onto that love, to be protective of it, and to help share it. So this year, I am making a strong and heart-felt resolution to be sure that that love does not change. I could now insert some motivational quote that will pull this whole post together, but I don't think there is any need for that because it is plain and simple:  

I love my family. 
My family love me. 
And just because it is a new year does not mean that every solution needs to involve change.