COMMENTARY: "I started to accept you for who you are, and less for the grades and achievements that you were bringing home."

Writing for Lessons on Leadership, a new series hoping to inspire the next generation of Singaporeans through the stories of Singapore’s many successful business leaders and entrepreneurs, Abel Ang pens a letter to his 18-year-old son, giving him three pieces of advice.

In this letter, he shares his experiences on parenting, and how his relationship with his son improved after he was reminded that raising a kid is very different from managing a business.

Abel Ang is the chief executive of a medical technology company and an adjunct associate professor at Nanyang Business School.

Dear Son,

I never had the chance to receive such a letter from my father, who passed away when I was seven. If you had not gone to polytechnic, you would be enlisting for National Service in the next few weeks, like many of your peers.

Flawed father

At your age, 18, I was filled with an inexplicable fear of fatherhood. With no dad to model myself on, one of my lifelong fears was that I would be a bad father.

Your mom and I married with no plans for children, but as the pioneer and experimenter of the family you later proved to be, you managed to break through our resolve.

Your arrival came as a surprise to us, two years into the marriage, bringing great joy to all, but trepidation for me - given my fatherhood phobia.

You were the pick-up-and-go baby - born in Germany, but by the time you were one, we were already living in the U.S., and you had been schlepped to visit friends and relatives all over Europe, Singapore, and Malaysia. I remember flight crews calling you the frequent-flier infant.

Over the years, work has taken me away from home frequently. The worst assignment required me to do a 15,000 km commute every two weeks between my team in the U.S., and the family in Singapore.

To compensate for frequent absences, I became a “Tiger Dad” pushing you into enrichment programmes and buying armfuls of assessment papers for you to do.

My way of spending time with you was to shadow you during enrichment activities. When you fell short of my expectations, I would lose my temper at you. For that, I am sorry.

Raising a child is not like managing a business

After picking up the pieces and consoling you, your mom would remind me that raising a child is not like managing a business. She patiently explained that the carrots and sticks approach used in a corporate environment, did not work at home. The obvious example being that, unlike in business, you cannot fire your kids.

She helped me see that although I was trying to be a present and engaged father, I was actually choking our relationship. You started to behave awkwardly around me, and became withdrawn, a change from your usual outgoing and warm self.

There was no drastic rapprochement, but eventually you and I were able to spend time together comfortably.

Tempering my “Tiger Dad” compulsions helped, as I started to accept you for who you are, and less for the grades and achievements that you were bringing home.

Strong family bonds to mitigate my flaws

The intergenerational bonds on both sides of the family also soothed our relationship. While both your grandfathers are no longer with us, your two grandmothers have been ever present.

Your paternal grandmother, who lives close by, watched you after school during your primary school years and still pops in daily to check on you.

Your maternal grandma, who lives in Kuala Lumpur, would visit us several times a year, and regale you with her made up stories of brave heroes saving damsels in distress during lazy afternoons together.

How your towering 183cm frame now envelopes your petite grandmas when you give them bear hugs never fails to bring a grin to my face.

Going on regional holidays with the grannies in tow proved to be logistical nightmares, but well worth the effort, because the trips helped you to see yourself as part of a larger family tribe.

Having a strong family has helped minimise the damage caused by my fathering flaws.

I hope that you will similarly build your own intergenerational family when the time comes for you to have children of your own.

Finances and friends

You have lived most of your life in a Housing Board flat and attended a neighbourhood primary and secondary school.

I hope that you have internalised that the measure of a person is not from where they stay, the schools they have attended, but in the relationships that one has nurtured.

My best memories of time spent with you are not from exotic holidays like diving in the waters of Sipadan, Malaysia; or angling for Halibut in Alaska. Instead, I treasure the times we have just bummed around as a family in Singapore on staycations and explored our home turf as tourists, something that a lot of people have discovered to be a joy during the pandemic.

Since you were a child, we have been hosting people for Saturday dinners. During these gatherings you have chatted with an eclectic cast of overseas guests, professional dancers, tech founders and clinician innovators over the years.

You were never allowed to retreat into a device because you were expected to actively participate in the conversation at the table, in addition to serving our guests during the meal.

Each conversation has allowed our friends to start a relationship with you, and make a small deposit in your development.

I hope that in your adult years, you too will live simply, but be rich in meaningful relationships.

First job and last words

It is my hope that in your first job after school, you will spend a few years serving your country in some capacity, in addition to your National Service obligation, which will start next year.

As the eldest child, it is our family’s way of giving back to the country which has given us so much. Don’t ever forget that your paternal grandfather and great-grandmother arrived from China with nothing. Of the six siblings, your grandfather was the only one that was born in China and made the trip on the boat to Singapore. The rest of his siblings were born here.

One of the few things I remember about my own father is how he saw his service as a primary school teacher as a natural expression of gratitude for the progress that the family had made.

A the first born myself too, I too served in government for years, before leaving to explore my destiny.

When I told you that I was writing this letter, your response was “huh, why”? Your reaction reminded me of Mary Schmich’s essay in the Chicago Times on June 1, 1997, entitled: “Advice, like youth, is probably just wasted on the young”.

The essay was subsequently the basis of a popular spoken word song, "Everybody’s Free (To Wear Sunscreen)", in 1997.

Do listen to the song as it has timeless life lessons such as: “Be kind to your knees, you’ll miss them when they’re gone” and “don’t waste your time on jealousy; sometimes you’re ahead, sometimes you’re behind. The race is long, and in the end, it’s only with yourself”.

I end this letter with important advice from the song – wear sunscreen son, you will thank me in 30 years, when you are my age, and have spots of sun damage on your face.

Loving you dearly,

Pa

Top photo courtesy of contributor.