My mother was the main culprit in the abuse. I don’t need to repeat what she did, I wrote about it elsewhere under the title “Pain” – it is not pleasant to write about or read. I call it accidental abuse. I don’t think she meant it and I know she regrets it. She just couldn’t help herself. 

She grew up very poor even by Third World standards. Her clothes and shoes had holes, she was raised by my grandmother who was left at an orphanage at age 9. My mother had to help out in the family also at 9. She was the responsible one, taking care of her siblings. She was the problem solver in the family and ended up as a European history lecturer at the equivalent of a junior college, no small fear for someone with her background. 

She married my father who was from a wealthy family by Third World standards. I often wonder whether she did that just to get out of poverty.  In any case, it wasn’t the best outcome. My father’s family looked down on her. They did not treat her well. She once told me how she was crying alone in the bathroom with me when I was a baby because she was so frustrated. Her mother, my grandmother, wasn’t that loving with her either. She once told her that she wasn’t welcome in her home anymore because she was married.  

The strange thing in all of this is she’s the one who would probably understand my journey the most. I was a problem solver like her and taught for a good portion of my life. I also know what it’s like to be judged and bullied. But that’s all water under the bridge, mostly. She taught me a lot – directly and indirectly. 

I asked you about The Once and Future King because it is one of the most profound books on life I’ve found. I grew up with the Arthurian legends because Malaysia is a Commonwealth country with significant British influence. I learned a ton of British history even before I landed in the US. The Once and Future King is both hopeful and sad. Arthur, taught and guided by Merlin, envisions a kingdom where might can be used to ensure right. But he makes mistakes and has enemies. His best friend and most famous knight, Lancelot, has an affair with his wife. His son, unknowingly conceived with his half sister, hates and overthrows him. 

The last scene of the book, however, finds Arthur facing his eventual defeat with hope in the future he imagined. He doesn’t die because he is taken to Avalon to sleep until his return when England is facing its darkest hour. 

I tried to be a good leader.  It mattered a lot to me. It was difficult and painful. I had to carry many people, usually unnoticed and unappreciated. I was mostly ok with it because I believed in what Arthur did. That a good leader makes all the difference. 

How does this tie in with my mother? While I am somewhat like her, except I write much better poetry, I commuted myself to not do the negative things she did. She, however, did instill in me the desire to live a meaningful life. Maybe even a noble one. If was more costly than I could have imagined. I’ve led a lot and especially in NYC where I was surrounded by pretty unethical and power hungry types. It killed me.

But I still believe. My dissertation was on how leaders are affected by the environment. Without good leaders, people suffer. I served under amazing ones and some truly awful ones. It made me so upset. I tried to mitigate their behavior and even stop them. 

So I know I keep referring to the same friend – the undercover officer (I do have a good number of friends, I swear). We both said that the line between someone in our jobs and a criminal was very thin. The same skills that make one effective apply to the other. We both had similar difficulties – family, racism, church, etc. We could have gone bad but we didn’t. It was a choice as as well as the grace of God. I think of my own family, including my father’s side which was also tricky to deal with. I tried hard to not follow the negative behavior. My friend suffered for his beliefs and so did I. But we tried to do the right thing. I’ll speak for myself – my hands are clumsy but they are clean.