On Christmas Eve, I was sent to a Buddhist temple. I took the train to Yokohama, walked up stone staircases, through a cemetery, across a pond full of koi fish, and into a temple. Here is where I met a monk, who also doubles as a school principal. After exchanging greetings, I continued up the stairs and arrived at the school. It was on the top of a hill, overlooking the city. Then, I organized the classroom, thought about the classes I was about to teach, and observed the skyline. I waited until the monk sent his granddaughter for her weekly English lesson. Three other students also joined, a group of four. I spent the next few hours teaching. I've been doing this sort of work for the last 15 months. Although seemingly peaceful, I would be lying if I said it wasn't a challenge. A challenge that has taught me about Grit. Developing grit is a slow process. It accumulates through years of punches and scars. The more one has, the more one can persevere, no matter the circumstan