Wednesday, January 05, 2005
The forgiveness of kin
Man About Town : The forgiveness of kin Updated 08:43pm (Mla time) Dec 24, 2004 By Chuck Dy Inquirer News Service Editor's Note: Published on page E3 of the December 25, 2004 issue of the Philippine Daily Inquirer Dear Man About Town, I have had a crush on my classmate ever since we were in elementary school together. Now that we are in our first year of college together, he has begun to show signs of being romantically interested in me as well. Needless to say, this is something I am really excited about. But my parents warn me about his family, saying that they have a reputation, having been previously linked to certain criminal activities. I've heard this from some friends as well. Now I am confused because I sincerely like this guy, but I am worried that my association with him may not be a good idea because of his family’s lifestyle. MY FATHER, with his inimitable blend of paternal sagacity and personal tribulation, peppered my formative years with adages he felt I would need to later on tackle the inevitable hurdles of growing up. Or perhaps this was less a mentoring strategy than it was a therapeutic exercise, one that allowed him to express his own frustrations at not having been advised in such a manner when he was younger. Whatever the reason, my memories of the first 25 years are punctuated-punchlined, if you will-by the proverbs taken from the Gospel according to Dad. Most were self-evident and obligatory, such as "don't do drugs" and "don't drink and drive." Many were practical, and I have adopted them as my own. Others seemed to stem from a more personal reservoir, cryptic due to a lack of context, like the surreal dictum, "avoid eggplant." But my all-time favorite remains his marital maxim. "Anak," he would whisper conspiratorially, from one man to another, "if you want to know how the girl you are dating is going to turn out 20 years from now, just look at her mother. It's true." This was accompanied by an accusatory glance toward Heaven. A couple of times he even shook his fist at the angels, I swear. There is nothing unnatural about the very human and not-very-humane tendency of judging people by their family names. Even more so in Philippine culture, where the dynastic histories are relatively young and pronounced, where every skeleton is publicly exhumed from private closets, and families are collectively known by their clan names. The repercussion, of course, of such forced intimacy is that we all become guilty by association for the sins of the father. I am uncertain whether Christianity has anything to do with it, but perhaps this whole business of Original Sin lends weight to our society's penchant for condemning whole bloodlines on the account of one or two bad apples. (Speaking of bad fruit, if Adam and Eve had just stuck to meat diets we wouldn't be in this pickle right now). So does the apple never fall far from the tree? The general theory of relatives Let us stray from our gastronomic metaphors (I'm on a literary diet that only allows me limited food references a day) and dwell in the realm of physics. Imagine your family as a galaxy comprised of paternal planets, maternal moons, brothers and as-sister-oids, cousins of gaseous material, aunts and uncles of alien alloy, and that random lunatic grandparent streaking naked through the cosmos of your living room during astral reunions. We all revolve around the Sun of our shared history, held in place by a force beyond our personal reckoning. In turn, we each exert a pull on our other family members, affecting their inertia, simultaneously allowing them to persuade our own activity. We cannot help it. Propinquity demands influence. Thus is our galaxy assessed, on the combined movement and overlapping orbits of all our galactic elements, orchestrated by the adhesive will of our common Sun, and God's sense of humor. And other galaxies cannot help but notice when a comet turns maverick or a moon comes unhinged in our Solar System, and they note with distaste, "They've always had bad gravity; it's the Milky Way." So on one hand, yes, the parent will always influence the child. Consequently, the moral quality of a parent's actions, especially if the child is somewhat aware, will affect their upbringing. But does this necessarily mean that the child will be like the parent, that a son will emulate his daddy's hectoring and philandering ways, or a daughter her mommy's substance abuse and terrible fashion sense? Of course not! I like to note the reverse argument as evidence: If such were the case, then axiomatically, good parents MUST produce good children. And we all know that's not true. We are all progeny of stigma in one way or the other. Whether it is as distant as an ancestor who smuggled firearms for the wrong side during the Spanish-American War, or as proximate as your favorite uncle who just happens to frequent the streets of Manila dressed as your favorite aunt, we all know a family member whom we just don't discuss at Noche Buena. Unfortunately, it appears to be fair dinner conversation for other families who apparently have little qualms about hurling stones through the windows of their glass houses. I emphasize: while family influences, it does not, with any predictable accuracy, determine the eventual character of a family member. Michael Jackson's kids might be normal With that said, I think you should follow your heart on this one. You've liked this guy for a while, which seems to indicate that he has treated you well for a number of years. The duration alone should provide sufficient indication that he has a good heart. Rather than look at what his parents do, you should focus more on what he does, taken apart from the context of his last name. Too often, we tend to fixate on pedigree and we forget that even Blue Ribbon show dogs can turn rabid. Or, inversely, how the pup can turn out loyal and affectionate even if he is the son of a bitch. Should you be wary of him? Just about as wary as anyone getting into any sort of relationship. And with modern romances the way they are, his family affairs should be the least of your worries. Determine the requisite basics first and prioritize your relationship standards. Is he honest? Is he sensitive? Is he hygienic? Do you have interests in common? Does he share your political and social views? Does the phrase "excessive flatulence" make him laugh? It's tough enough nailing those down without having to ponder the lingering effects of his great-great grandmother's reputation as a brothel member. Everyone deserves a chance. I am certain there's a few Germans or Austrians, with the unfortunate last name of Hitler, running around the world today, desperate for unnecessary absolution from an unforgiving world. And they're probably really decent folk without the least inclination for global domination or genocide. Give the guy a break. If people are condemned for the faults of the father, my kid is NEVER going to get a date to the prom. We owe much to our families; for better or for worse, we are the sums of their parts. But the greatest achievement a parent can ever claim is to have their children grow up as individuals, mindful of their heritage, but fully aware of their independence. My folks christened my identity with a little bit of theirs, supporting me in my adventures, sending me cash and cashmere, and texting to let me know that they love me in spite of my refusal to return home for the holidays. But I am indebted to them most of all because they gave me their name, but taught me to make one for myself as well.
