My father
I owe a lot of credit to my father.
He’s taught me everything I know about the world. He’s always been frustratingly opinionated and stubbornly open-minded at the same time. Lucky for me, I also take on those qualities.
People who observe our conversations think we always clash because we’re constantly debating. What they don’t see is that we’re both passionate about our ideas and are trying to sell it to each other. It would seem we are competing with one another for the winning idea. I’m still learning how to do that better. I ought to listen more.
My father is a very admirable figure. He’s got good gut and wit. He is always questioning the way people do things, always willing to learn new things. He doesn’t believe in limitations and is a true optimist, despite his odds.
He shares a similar traumatising refugee story to his fellow peers escaping the communist regime in the late 70s. Having come from a very poor and crowded family, he never had the chance for formal education. He left his family home early into his childhood — and by child, I really mean 8 years old child — to figure out how he could feed himself. This set him on a string of life lessons, expeditions, and dangers even before the war broke out. Adding to the depth of his resilience — the evil wrath of Pol Pot, the tough and torturous escape and then there was the barbaric refugee camp.
It was a sheer strike of luck when he was sent down under — uncharted waters, foreign land, but a fresh start. It was no easy task, but a successful one I’d say.
Fast forward to 2017, he is now retired. He’s still quite a character, and it never ceases to amaze me how he continues to pursue his learning. As a hobby, he attends workshops at the local library where millennial volunteers teach him how to navigate Facebook.
He's always had his finger on the pulse and his opinions on what the future would look like.
This morning, I called him to share the news that I had joined a new team and am settling into London well. He usually has good banter, however, we personally don’t really have a conversational relationship. It’s usually either a heated discussion or something fairly brief.
This morning’s short and quick call went something like this:
Me: I’m starting my first day today.
Dad (in chinese): Good! What do they do? Is it bitcoin?
Me: Yes?!? Err.. how do you know about bitcoin?
Dad (in broken english): Very Very good!! Bitcoin is the future
Me: How do you know that?
Dad (back to chinese): I’ve been reading about it, it’s going to be everywhere in about 3 years. You watch. Anyway good luck, go to work now. Goodbye.
Having never spoken to him about this topic, I was shocked, amused and delighted at the same time. I’ve been trying to follow his footsteps in my own way; I have been trying to sink my teeth into this space for quite some time. This is my uncharted waters, foreign land, and my fresh start.
He’s always had his finger on the pulse and I’m still learning to do better.
I ought to listen more. So should you.
These brief words give me hope.
