Monsters Among Us
Father’s Day is an occasion accompanied by mixed emotions for me.
I view my experiences as a father (past and future) as encompassing my greatest investment of time, energy, hope, and financial resources.
I also view it as my greatest responsibility.
Some people will tell you your greatest expenditure in life will be your house. For me it isn’t even close.
On this last father’s day I was able to reflect on the recent marriage of my son to an extremely nice young lady. The first of my children to get married, he is an amazing individual with enormous potential. Like each of his siblings, he has had opportunities and experiences designed to help him grow and become more than either of his parents were.
These parenting investments were augmented over the last few years by extensive contributions from many members of our extended family and friends who have stepped up to replace some of what the kids were not able to get from either of their folks.
For reasons unlikely to be clear to anyone reading this, the occasion was extraordinarily bittersweet. Great joy and happiness coupled with layers of sadness that have far less to do with recent events than matters that have been a lifetime (or more) in unfolding.
As a result, my prime observation for what would otherwise be a rather benign day may seem a bit odd but is not.
It may seem a change of topic, but likewise it is not.
The point I most wish to make, the thing I most wish to caution my children about as their father, and one of the scariest things I have had to come to accept in my own life is that there are monsters among us.
They are human, have had their own experiences that led them to be the way they are, and are more often than not better disguised than you can imagine. They include fathers, mothers, uncles, aunties, in-laws, neighbours, church members, school teachers, and others. Very often they are people you think are wonderful. Pedophiles, thieves, liars, mean and spiteful, vicious and wholly selfish monsters. Women as well as men. Cloaked in a mask of niceness you simply never know them. Until you do.
Even then, belief comes hard. Justification and rationalization are exercised to the extreme. Whatever the story, it is rarely (if ever) the whole truth.
To me the sole commonality is that none of them are friends of the truth. Some are so skilled at mixing bits of truth with misdirection or are such good actors/actresses that even when staring you in the eyes and promoting a baldface falsehood, you believe them and simply cannot tell you are deceived.
I have experienced this phenomenon too many times, and watched as it has happened to others. It is painful, heart wrenching, and hopelessly impossible to combat effectively.
Warnings are unwelcome. Raising concerns only makes you a target for an alienation campaign. Overt or covert attack. Or both. Directly from the perpetrator, or indirectly by those in their thrall.
It is a horrible experience to become conscious of – to know, to see, and to suffer. However, once awakened, it’s achingly easy to understand why so many victims are silent. And equally easy to comprehend why there are so many victims among the enabling net of intentional misinformation.
I personally know four such monsters.
Twice I was so shocked to learn of their true natures that I was temporarily physically incapacitated and could not have been more surprised if I had just watched a pig fly by.
Not all are a present threat to others, but each has created a wake of damage far more destructive than just the indictable crimes they have committed.
I believe in the end we will all be accountable for the aftermath we leave behind. We all make mistakes and many of us have done monstrous things.
Nevertheless, all who genuinely seek to avoid harm to others and/or attempt to atone for the inadvertent pain caused by unintended consequences share a morality that often blinds us to the very existence of others who play the game of life without such rules.
It has nothing to do with religion or politics. It’s about power and insatiable selfishness, even when effectively disguised as selflessness, whether as parent, civil servant, volunteer, or public disciple of a seemingly incongruous ethos.
The monsters among us thrive by predating on the future of others.
They feed on our desire to believe they don’t exist. But, unlike flying pigs, they do.
As a father, I once thought my primary mission was to protect my children from these individuals. However I have come to learn that, like you, no matter how much I invest in the effort I can’t possibly succeed.
Instead I’ve tried to set an example that exposes historic wounds but also highlights the ability to survive without becoming infected.
The aim now is simply to inspire them to do the same.
Life is a lot easier in a world of monsters when those you love aren’t among them.