The Life and Times of Tim Casey

by Joey Chung

I step into the bustling freshman oral training class on a sunny Thursday afternoon, filled with excited chatter and loud exchanges from the fourteen students. Tim Casey enters the room, towering over me and the rest of the class as he takes his position and I find an empty seat and take out my camera and equipment, ready to remember the most important details of the coming hour. He looks calm and relaxed, and with his signature gentle smile and patient soft tone he starts his class. The topic for today is Hemingway’s “Cat in the Rain,” something I too read when I was a freshman in his class. The class begins their discussion of the story, going around the room giving each student a chance to speak. Then, as is the tradition, the class breaks into in smaller groups for a more everyday topic, shopping, something of particular interest apparently, as the room is now filled with exciting anecdotes of browsing, window shopping, and harassment by sales clerks. Today Mr. Casey is decked out in a light brown sports jacket and a dark checkered shirt, both of which seem to have been worn for some time, but which like him evoke a certain dignified sense of increased age. And then I’ m reminded of the fact that he is, after all, around sixty, and that he has been around for quite some time.

Tim Casey’s story as it turns out seems like a movie script, complete with twists and turns, and to me it also reads like a testament of different times in American and world history.

He grew up in Michigan and studied pre-law, with the original idea of studying law in graduate school. He was accepted to the University of Michigan Law School, but instead chose to enlist in the army. He later became a marine and was stationed in the Philippines, Okinawa, and, of course, the hotbed at the time, Vietnam. Why would he want to forgo a luxurious and successful life as a lawyer and sign up to be a potential war casualty? He was quiet for a while and looked away, seeming to reminisce of old times. I too, try to picture my teacher in military fatigues and dog tags patrolling the swamps of Vietnam. “The times” he replied, “were different.” Kennedy inspired enthusiasm and hope, and the feeling of wanting to contribute to country and society. And he was fed up with Michigan, a place he had never left, and fed up with school. He was an indecisive young man and wanted alternatives. He wanted something different. He wanted to see the world. And so he did. I wonder how many of us today would actually have the courage to do the same thing.

During his three-year army stint from ‘65 to '68, he had a five-day vacation. Out of curiosity he came to Taiwan. He remembers seeing what is now the eastern side of Taipei, with its miles of rice paddies, bicycles, farmers, and distant mountains. He was truly fascinated with the Far East, the land, and its cultures. During his last year in the army, he was again tired of his situation and wanted to escape. He was accepted into UC Berkeley where he received a degree in English–the furthest he could get from the atmosphere of the army. Later he was accepted to San Francisco State. But during the difficult economic times of the 1970’s he switched his major to economics.

But times were hard for students and after finishing school he just started traveling, wandering from town to town, visiting friends, seeing the land, doing whatever he wanted, living out of his old VW, and taking whatever odd jobs he could to pay his living expenses. His three strangest experiences were picking raspberries, baling hay in a barn, and working the night shift in an IBM factory. Finally he landed in Colorado, where he fell in love with skiing and tried out as a ski instructor. While in Colorado, he took Chinese classes taught by Vietnamese refuges. Later he wanted something different again and so enrolled in the Ph.D. program in Comparative Literature at the University of Colorado at Boulder, where he finished all of the available Chinese courses in a year and a half.

After that, he felt like it was time to escape again, to revisit Asia. He felt disgusted with the times, the way the U.S. was heading, the politics. He ideally thought he would stay in Taiwan and master Chinese in nine months, then go to Japan to study Japanese. However, he never accomplished the last part of that plan and he ended up staying here, and that was 23 years ago.
He pauses for a few seconds, lost in thought. I look around his office as a short silence broke out. At this moment in his life, after seeing so many places, one his favorite quotes is by Goethe: “One who hasn’t studied another language never really understands his own,” a concept that he feels applies to culture as well as to language. His office gives the same feeling that he does, as a person that has seen and been through a lot and who, finally, is content and happy with where he is and what he’s doing: the perfect balance of cultures, people, and experiences.

Upon arriving in Taiwan he taught English at cram schools, just trying to make enough money for learning Chinese and traveling. Later a friend mentioned that they were hiring at NTU. He sent in his resume and was hired. Asked about his plans for the future he says he’ll stay and teach for a few more years until retirement, and then remain here hiking, traveling around Asia, and resuming his often neglected Chinese studies. He remarked that Taipei is now a far cry from thirty years ago, now that it’s filled with art and concerts and coffee shops. He has seen Taiwan grow and mature, and this is where he wants to be.

I also asked him about his general ideal of teaching; he replied that the best way to learn something was just to do it. I then wondered what he was like when he began to teach at NTU 23 years ago. He says when he first arrived he was more of the older brother or uncle type, the type that was the fresh new foreigner and could reply to any question about trends or fashion in the U.S. and seem cool. Now he has moved to the grandfather stage and the times have finally caught up with him. In the past students were more focused on their studies and had little idea about other parts of the world. Students today are more internationalized and open-minded, and they are given many more opportunities. At this age in his life, he admits, he has a hard time keeping up with student life.

After our interview I saw him with a map, asking a secretary in Chinese where a certain theatre was. He wanted to see a particular film, not widely released in Taiwan, Bowling for Columbine, a film he feels documents the many reasons why he prefers to stay here rather than in the U.S. It turns out to be showing only in Shimending. I chuckle at the thought of him walking the streets there, but then I realize that he is not the kind of person that would let sixteen year olds, loud music, and bright lights scare him away. I realize that underneath that soft and gentle appearance is a man who can certainly take care of himself. Still, I went off to class thinking about Tim Casey walking the alleyways of Shimending, and it was a wonderful thought.

• #Volume 9 Issue 2