Sometimes tough love helps produce the lasting results we need

In Jeremiah 29:11, we read, “For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” One uncomfortable experience — a defining moment, enforced on me by my father — changed my life forever. It happened after I flunked my high school entrance exam in 1973.

My early struggles with school are well documented. I spent six years in three grades. My second-grade teacher and my father decided that I needed to repeat while my classmates were proceeding to third grade. A similar decision was made by my father and one of my sixth-grade teachers. Their reason was that because I was an almost average student, repeating sixth would prepare me to be in a better position to do the high school entrance exams set for seventh-graders.

When I repeated, I met an orphan boy, five years older than I, who became a dear friend. I introduced him to my parents, who embraced him and invited him to live with us. A soft-spoken boy, Bonnie was both a hard worker and an outstanding student. We did everything together. But we were in different academic worlds.

In 1973, the year we were in seventh grade, we were joined by my uncle, who had failed to pass the high school entrance exam. He was a good student, and thus our home had three seventh-graders — two working hard to pass their high school entrance exams and one not so serious. The two of them passed with flying colors. My uncle got an A in Mathematics, a B in General Paper and a C+ in English, and Bonnie earned two As and a B respectively. I achieved a C in each subject.

How my dad treated that boy and what he made me do became a defining moment that still brings tears to my eyes and an inevitable lump to my throat. My father believed that wearing long-sleeved shirts, trousers or shoes were unnecessary distractions for elementary school children. But when any of his children passed the high school entrance exams, he or she was rewarded accordingly.

Bonnie was rewarded with shoes, a pair of trousers and several long-sleeved shirts. That was not a problem for me since he and I shared clothes. I could borrow his and wear them so long as I could be out of Dad’s sight, an art I had mastered years earlier.

On the morning of Bonnie’s departure to a boarding high school, Dad made me carry my friend’s luggage to a bus station. The weight of the luggage was nothing compared to the heaviness of my heart.

Repeating seventh grade, the option my father chose for me, meant being in the same class with my brother (another academic giant), three years younger than I. The thought that I would carry my younger brother’s suitcase, if I failed the exams again, was beyond frightening. It punished me.

My only escape from that terrifying experience was to attack the books, which I did with purpose. I passed my exams. Passing, however, was the smallest achievement. Working to avoid carrying my young brother’s luggage, I developed focused and disciplined study habits that propelled me through two major high school exams and other academic challenges thereafter.

The decisions we make and the actions that follow color our defining moments. A defining moment can be fueled by the desire for a better future or by an inspiration to change things. It is accompanied by unexplainable courage. If we don’t act upon the desires of our hearts and/or our vision for the future we want, our situation is not likely to improve, it may get worse and we will never know what would have happened had we acted.

The magnitude of a defining moment differs for each of us. Some outcomes are subtle, but still mark a turning point in our lives. Henry Miller said, “What seems nasty, painful, evil, can become a source of beauty, joy and strength, if faced with an open mind. Every moment is a golden one for him who has the vision to recognize it as such.”

I agree.