A Letter to My Sons: Promise me kindness

Dear Alexandre, Dear Sam,

The other day a few boys not much older than you did a horrible thing to someone. While sitting in their school bus, they insulted, ridiculed, and taunted a 68 year-old school bus monitor until she cried. The whole thing was captured on another boy’s cellphone camera and uploaded to YouTube.

It’s painful to watch the video. The woman stays quiet for the most part until finally she can’t hold herself back and tells the children how painful it is to have them say these bad things to her. She is not angry, she is just hurting. In some ways the woman reminded me of Grandmaman. Maybe it was the way she sat quietly, head held high and trying to ignore the words she was hearing. I was reminded that the only time I ever saw your Grandmaman cry was when someone else hurt her with words.

People who saw the video have expressed their shock but have also expressed their sympathy and emptied their pockets, eager to help the woman and give her money. I’m sure she is overwhelmed by the support she has received since the incident took place. However comforting that is, the words spoken can never be taken away, and she’ll probably remember them forever.

In some ways this incident brings out the worst and best in all of us. I know you’ve been bullied and it hurts. I was bullied as well when I was a kid, sometimes because I had an English name in a French school, other times I really don’t know why – some kids just picked on me. There was one time when two older kids in high school beat me up as my friends looked on. My friends were probably shocked at what was happening, so I can’t really blame them for just looking and not doing anything. It didn’t last long either; I was beaten up and left on the ground in less than a minute. But still, when you’re being bullied, it’s nice to know someone’s going to come and help you out.

When I think of the kids who insulted the woman on the bus, I wonder why the boy taking the 10-minute video didn’t say at one point, “Stop.” It’s great that so many people have seen the video, and I hope it raises awareness about bullying, how kids can sometimes be incredibly cruel without remorse, and how badly we sometimes treat our elders. But there wouldn’t have ever been a video if the boy with the cellphone or anyone else had told the other kids to stop. Scream stop, tell the bus driver what’s going on, sit next to the woman and defend her, tell her it’s OK and those hurtful words mean nothing. Just do something.

The kindness we have – and I have to still believe that every one of us has some kindness in our hearts – can’t be silenced by our fear of the consequences from standing up for someone else. It doesn’t matter if it’s a stranger or someone you know, when you see a person being hurt by others, just act. Do something to change the situation. Think of what any superhero would do. People are about to be hurt; does Batman or Iron Man pull out their cellphone to record the incident? No, they don’t even think twice, they just do something to stop it. I know they’re only comic book characters, but their appeal lies in a deep-rooted fantasy that we should be more like them. Strip away the Bat-gizmos and flying suits of armor, they act because it’s the right thing to do. Promise me you’ll unleash your kindness if ever you see someone being hurt. That’s all anyone should ever do.

Je t’aime Alexandre, je t’aime Sam,

Daddy

A Letter to My Sons: Three Questions

Dear Alexandre, Dear Sam,

Last week I spoke to some university students about poverty. Only a few students showed up, but when I think back to my days at university, I probably wouldn’t have gone to any talk about poverty. As I struggled to think of what to say to them, I thought back to a book Mommy read to you a couple of years ago: The Three Questions. In the book, a young boy goes on a journey to find answers to three questions. He finds the answers he needs by meeting friends along his journey.

These are the questions the boy asks:

Do good for the person next to you, now. That’s it.

When is the best time to do things?
Who is the most important one?
What is the right thing to do?

As he nears his journey’s end, one of his friends offers these answers: “Remember then that there is only one important time, and that time is now. The most important one is always the one you are with. And the most important thing is to do good for the one who is standing at your side. For these, my dear boy, are the answers to what is most important in this world.”

I never thought of these three questions before reading this book – at least not the way the boy asked them. By the time I finished university, the question I asked myself – which I never really shared with anyone – was “Is this all there is?” And by “this” I basically meant the life I was leading and the purpose I had for being on this earth. The answer was simple enough: “No.” But that kind of answer didn’t tell me what I should be doing.

I found some answers to what I should be doing by seeing more of the world. As I began to travel I realized that there was so much of the world that lived a harder life than mine. Before traveling, I’d seen images of poor people on TV, but that was the extent of the poverty I faced. The more I learned about the world, the more I realized not everyone went to school, not everyone lived in a nice house, not everyone had enough food to eat, not everyone had enough clean water to drink, not everyone was healthy, not everyone felt safe and secure.

The more I saw of the world, the more I hurt. The more I thought of that question – Is this all there is? – the more I felt I should do something. Like the boy in the story, I learned that the time to do things was right now. Not later, not when I felt like it, not when the world would get better because it wasn’t. There was no waiting, it was just now. As for the answer to the boy’s second question: “the most important person is always the one you are with.” The one next to you. Nowadays many people will tell you that the world is a lot smaller. Our phones, computers, airplanes, and other technology have brought many of us closer together. If this is the case, then isn’t it true that the person “next to you” can be anyone in the world? The answer to the third question is to “do good for the one who is standing at your side.” In an increasingly smaller world, this means you can do good for anyone, anywhere.

But there comes a point when you have to make choices. I decided long ago to try to help people in many places, and that’s what still takes me away from you. Before leaving a few days ago, you asked again, “Why do you have to leave?” Leaving you is hard for me, harder than you can imagine. But as much as my love for you compels me to stay home and be with you all the time, the same three questions the young boy asks himself are always on my mind. The answers to the boy’s questions also compel me to “do good,” or at least try to help others. Whether you “do good” by teaching kids in school like Mommy, or by becoming a Lego Master or a rock star/dog babysitter like you want to be one day, you end up making others happy, and you’ll make a difference in this world.

Je t’aime Alexandre, Je t’aime Sam.

Daddy

A Letter to My Sons: On Love and Hate

Dear Alexandre, Dear Sam,

This is my first Valentine’s Day away from you. The second away from Mommy – the first time was way back in 1998. I was living in Ghana at the time, and your mother sent me a Valentine’s Day package from home. The package wasn’t delivered to my apartment, so I had to pick it up at the central post office. People receiving packages had to open them for inspection in front of a postal worker. There was a lineup of people behind me, peeking over my shoulder to see what I got. I opened the box and showed the postal worker a CD, a letter, and a pair of red boxer shorts with little red and white hearts on it.

However embarrassing that situation was at the time (but everyone smiled), I knew I was a lucky man, and I am even luckier today. Prior to meeting your Mommy, Valentine’s Day, to put it simply, sucked. I never had a girlfriend on that day (reassuringly, most of my guy friends didn’t either), and any potential for having a girlfriend on or around that day was always promptly extinguished. I can freely provide you details in about 5 years.

All you need.

I am lucky because I have love from the two of you and Mommy that defines me, that strengthens me, supports me, gets me out of bed and brings me comfort even though I’m 9511 km away from you (more or less). It makes Valentine’s Day just another day as I sit here alone in my hotel room, happy.

There’s a saying that goes, “So much of what we know of love we learn at home.” I learned a lot from your grandmother and, in a very different way, from your Uncle John, and continue to learn from the two of you and Mommy. As I left you on Saturday, your emotions were bare, your silence painful, and your tears seared right through my heart. My trips away from you are much shorter than they were ten years ago, but somehow the goodbyes are sadder. I can only attribute that to a growing love.

Sitting here in my hotel room in Amman, it’s hard for me not to think of this day without remembering the struggles that so many people here in the Middle East and North Africa have faced over the past year. You know of the sweeping changes that took pace in Egypt, in Tunisia, in Libya. But one year ago today, February 14, protests began in the streets of Bahrain, where my friend Abdulhadi was jailed and sentenced to life in prison. He recently wrote a letter from jail talking about his situation. He is a strong man, someone who fights hard for the rights of others and has paid a high price for this. But he is loved, and that love manifests itself in the support that thousands of people from around the world have shown in pushing for his release, and the release of other prisoners.

Bahrain is not the only place where innocent people are being hurt because they are standing up for their rights. The situation in Syria is getting worse every day, with the president unwilling to give up power as his forces kill dozens of civilians every day. Tonight I spoke to my friend Amouri who lives in Syria and he says that all six of the UN schools that operate in the city of Homs have been closed now for three weeks because of the violence in the streets. It’s one thing for you to have a snow day and not go to school. Can you imagine not attending school because people are being killed in the streets?

If you think this makes no sense, you are right. I want you to always keep in mind that this is not right. Hatred will never be right. You might be confused right now about this kind of stupid behaviour, and as you get older, I’m sorry to say you might find out even stupider and more hurtful things that people do. If you’re like me, this will anger you. What I’ve learned over time is that anger is often unavoidable, but needs to be transformed. Without changing that anger, you won’t change anything. Your anger at other people’s stupidity needs to be channeled into passion and love that is tempered by reason, into a fierce enthusiasm to stop those who do wrong to others. Be a Superman, be a Batman – even SpongeBob stands up for what’s right. I want you to be yourself and to share, as much as you possibly can, what you know of love and learned from home. The world needs it.

Je t’aime Sam, je t’aime Alexandre.

Daddy