Founding Father

For my dad, with love.

I must’ve been five years old and already, I had my routine down. Every day, I’d tag along behind my father in the morning as he started his day. We’d walk down his long narrow closet while he picked out the suit he’d wear that day. Then I’d sit outside his room as I waited eagerly to have breakfast with him.

He didn’t eat in the morning; just a cup of tea (sweet, very sweet). That’s how he liked it. Then, he’d get in the car and off to work. As he started his day, I gave him a daily download on mine. I was such an opinionated child. I’d tell him about all the kids in my kindergarten class, what I planned on doing at school that day, who I liked and disliked, what I thought about my teachers…and the list goes on.

I had one hour with my father every morning, and though we wouldn’t see each other again until dinner that night, we always had a special bond. So much of my admiration for him has carried me through my life, and shaped the person I’ve become.

My father always had a way with words. He taught me many of my life’s most important lessons very early on. And he always phrased things in a way I’d never forget.

“The only benchmarks that truly matter are those you set for yourself.”

“Be the hero of your own life, my girl.”

“Today is another opportunity to do all the things you were meant to do. Therein lies its beauty.”

“There is no substitute for hard work.”

But my father didn’t stop at the wisdom of his own words. While most dads read their daughters bedtime stories, on most nights I went to sleep to the tune of great poets, scholars and leaders — William Shakespeare, Winston Churchill, Thomas Jefferson, John Adams, Abraham Lincoln, Hans Kelsen…my father dedicated his life to literature and the law; and he never left these great men on the shelf, not even when it was time to tuck me in at night. I distinctly remember falling asleep to the tune of the U.S. Constitution on many nights.

Shakespeare wrote Hamlet, but I hear it in my father’s voice every time I recall…

To be or not to be, that is the question: Whether ’tis nobler in the mind to suffer The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune Or to bear arms against a sea of troubles And by opposing them end them.
(from Hamlet, spoken by Hamlet, William Shakespeare)

Through stories of bravery and the eyes of brave men, my father taught me what it means to live in courage, rather than fear. He taught me to seek truth and to speak it, to love everyone with equal heart, but never to excuse deceit or participate in the kind of arrogance that clouds objective judgement.

Absolute confidence or clarity is the privilege of fools and fanatics.
(Ronald Dworkin, Justice for Hedgehogs)

My father had a balanced world-view. He gave me the kind of encouragement and love a child needs, but never allowed me the privilege of ignorance or arrogance. He grew up in a family barely making minimum wage and saw what it meant to struggle. He knew what it was like not to know where your next meal would come from. His dreams of pursuing medicine turned into a passion for the law simply because his family couldn’t afford to send him to medical school and give him the education he wanted.

Instead he got the education he deserved (quite literally). When he took a part time job at a law firm, a partner at the firm (impressed by dad’s work ethic) arranged a bank loan for him to read law. The loan would only cover tuition but that was enough for him. He would work 7 days a week as a waiter at a restaurant to put himself through school and eventually become one of the best lawyers and most prominent educators of law in his country (Malaysia).

He never complained for what he wasn’t given the opportunity to do. Instead he took what he was given with gratitude and worked hard to make the best of the opportunity in front of him. Through stories of his own life, he showed me what he meant when he taught me that “life will show you many challenges, but none beyond your capacity to overcome.”

He always says, “The fight is never finished.” We have to keep showing up and charting our own path. He reminds me constantly that our destinies are not written in the stars or in the lines on our palms. Our destinies are of our own making.