By: Musue N. Haddad, MIPP
How many times do we sit and begin discussing our childhood and teen years with others? Probably rarely! Well, recently, I found myself going through that herculean task. This task was imposed on me by a researcher who was analyzing how experiences in childhood and teen years influence human growth and development. While taking a journey back into my teenage years, I found myself flipping though pages containing activities, and events of my life that had become dormant over the years. The recollection of those events and memories that had become hidden and inactive in my mind was very stunning. For example, I had almost forgotten how I used to spend hours brushing my father's hair. Until recently, I never thought for a single moment that such a routine activity that I considered precious would have ever been embossed, but deeply obscured in my mind. The question then is whether I had voluntarily selected not to remember many things in my life, or that I had become preoccupied with new situations in my life and had put many things out of my mind?
As I started my trip back into time, the information and images recovered were amazing. Frankly, some images were blurred, but several trails and events about my childhood, my teen years and my life began to unfold gradually. I completely recaptured the local woven chair my late dad and my late mother usually sat in. The recollection was vivid and emerged as if I had picked up the chairs and stood before a gigantic mirror. My mind played this interesting games with me - I found myself standing in front of shelves and furniture in my childhood home looking at pictures, jars, tables, and the layout of the environment where my late dad sat when I brushed his hair.
While reflecting on that singular event, some of the daily routines started to take place in my mind, including the time of the day my father would take his lunch break from chores, and I would run to my mother. Thinking of those moments made me laughed: it's like I was a spider trying to grab the "lion's share' of both my Dad's and my Mom's world. How they cope with my child like behavior and my childish expression of my unsorted love to both of them is something I wish I could ask them.
Reflecting on my teenage years brought me tons of memories about my childhood. The journey into my past was filled with sorrows, pains and happiness a journey that was truly rewarding. It felt like opening an encyclopedia - my own encyclopedia that sketched out just about everything about my life as a child, and my teen years.
As I discussed a few of these thoughts with a friend recently, the person thought my experiences and feelings would make for a good article. At first, I brushed the idea aside, but later, I realized that perhaps, just perhaps, such an article might stimulate some brainstorming- maybe stir up more memories, including my war experiences, my life as a refugee, and my life in exile - away from my home, my friends and families. Truly, from the moment I started writing this material, my mind has been flooding with a lot of important scenes that I have ignored over the years. Even now, as I try to reflect on my childhood years, I realized that though I may have grown up in a rural setting, I experienced a lot of wonderful things that helped shaped my life. A tomboy, I enjoyed sports, and was mostly captain of the girls sports team. As captain or member of a sports team, partaking and winning a very competitive game was always considered some of my best days. My hometown friends, school mates and team mates would jubilate and talk about our experience on the field for days and weeks ahead.
Then again, within my family circle, some of the best moments I cherish are when my father would take me to visit his friends in Zorzor city or to one of the towns and villages on a market day. While on those trips to Ziggida, Bui, or Fissebu markets, among others villages and towns or just visiting my dad's friends, my father would sometimes place me on his lap during the drive and sing songs to me. I still relish those beautiful moments to see and feel his gentleness, the beautiful smile on his face and the sootiness of his voice. But then again, when I was with my mother, some of the best things were when she took the time to tell me stories about her life and her family. I quite remember looking profoundly at my Mama's face as she stared deeply, while narrating those true life stories. Though I remember a few oral histories my mother handed down to me, I have not succeeded in recalling some of the many things she said. However, the moments she shared these stories were captivating: the closeness, the trust and calmness on her face.
Outside of sports and my family, one of the best things that happened to me was passing the junior high West African Examination Council Examination. My passing the regional exam meant being promoted to the 10th grade, but it also resulted to my school maintaining its status as a junior high school. Prior to my passing the West African Examination Council (WAEC) exam, my school was one of those placed on a critical list of losing its Junior High Status if it failed again to justify its capability to maintain a junior high status. I remembered that day when a delegation from the school was visiting my father. On that day, I was out, and had received the call to immediately return to my father. The tone of the message was quite alarming. My hands became sweaty. It was one thing to get on the wrong side of my late, dad, but quite another to consider the idea that I would be scolded. I hated being reprimanded in public or in the presence of others. On the other hand, the thought of being literally scolded is always dreadful. So I went to my dad with tears ready to flow from my eyes. When I arrived, I was again confused to see a high delegation from the school seated. You can only imagine my thoughts. The school I was attending at that time was newly elevated to a junior high level. The entire first batch of 9th graders who sat the West African Exam the previous year failed the test. During the second year, that is the year that I was among candidates for the West Africa Exam; was the final chance the school had to maintain its status as a junior high school. That is, if all of us had failed, the status of the school would be immediately dropped to that of an elementary school. As a new student, I was not aware that the school was facing such challenge. Few months after the Examination, some high profile officials from the educational system visited my family: the Regional Educational officer, the school's principal, vice principal and some teachers. The visit was to inform my parents that I was the only student who had passed the Examination; and that my passing had saved the school from being sliced to an elementary level.
As a lively person, the County Educational Officer at that time, Mr. Clinton was even more jovial than ever. The school's principal, Mr. Flomo and other staff of the school went into all the "nitty gritty" of my work, but I was still 'thawing out' the fear and apprehension brought about by my father's stern call. However, my passing the ninth grade meant I would have to relocate to another school to complete high school. That relocation would mean leaving the "nest" of my parents, and leaving my friends.
However, visiting my hometown and childhood friends were trips I anxiously looked forward to during vacations. I also enjoyed exploring the bushes, and playing in the rivers and creeks, carrying water on my head, and trying hard to learn to fish using the traditionally woven fishing net. Unfortunately, fishing was a skill that I failed to acquired, simply because I feared being bitten by reptiles that I strongly believed were hiding in unclean rivers and creeks. I would join the fishing expedition, but would jump out of the river or creek when it became unclear or muddy.
Another wonderful experience of visiting my hometown that I keep reflecting on, even today is that my friends and I would pick up life and activities from where we had left off without recognizing that we had been apart for several months. Isn't that interesting!
As I reflect on my life as a child and then a teenager, I am grateful for my development. My experience as a journalist, a teacher and a parent have given me the ability to assess how our parents, families and caregivers play important roles in our development, and social advancement. Personally, my caregivers were my parents, and family members. My parents were strict, but loving. They taught me many things, including the value of honesty, the importance of maintaining my reputation, and that education is the key to success. Those lessons and skills helped me to remain hopeful in the face of trials and temptations, and were values that helped me survived the senseless war that engulfed our country, and resulted to the deaths of over 250,000 persons, and the displacement of over one million persons.
My mother always told me in order to be successful; I needed to learn to be independent, and also dependent.
Now you may be asking how can one learn to be independent, and still learn to be dependent? Quite frankly, when my mother urged me to learn to be both independent and dependent, her idea at that time seemed farfetched. Then as I grew up, all I thought about was learning to be independent, and her idea became even more implausible and mind-boggling. Under other conditions, I would have chased Mama's idea from my mind, but apparently, as little as I was, my confidence in Mama was deeply unwavering, and that faith secretly nudged me to hold on to Mama's concept. That is why, later in life, I fetched Mama's idea about being independent, and learning to be dependent. I realized that in order to survive, we must learn the necessary skills that will make us independent. However, to be successful, we must learn to be dependent and well as independent. That dependency attitude doesn't mean we must depend on others for survival or depend on others to be successful. It simply means learning to be a part of a team, and learning to work with others- collaboration, networking, people's skills because we live in a world, and among people from different cultures and background. Many years after leaving my Mama's cradle, I returned again to visit. We sat again and reflected on things of old: learning to cope with challenges, and being independent and learning to be independent. We talked about these things, not in isolation, but as we revisited circumstances that brought about these lessons. This time, I became the moderator, and then the analyst. My mom was the single audience. My Mama would begin the lesson with, “You remembered that time......" and I would continue the story, bring out the challenges, the experience I acquired, and how the skills learned have proven to be valuable. During the moment of reflection, I saw my mom's face light up, apparently in approval of my recognition of concepts that are practical to real life situations. Those are moments I hold proudly in the palms of my hands, and store in my heart, and will always cherish the moonlight reflection on my Mama's face when she smiled.
When I was away from my parents, my mother always encouraged me to see my absence as a learning process. When I came to my mother crying about being battered, she urged me to be patient in going through the period. Her words echoed whenever I am faced with situations and they served as a cushion and energizer: "Musue, bear patience. Remember that you are there for a reason. Just do what you have to do and then later in life, after you have learned and moved on, you will not face those difficulties and challenges." My mother saw life as an education that begins from our birth. Those days when my mother uttered those words, I would assumed she was either not listening, or was taking lightly what I was saying. However, I would listen to her 'phrase," but would still ask, "Ma please pray so that it will not happen again." Then she would take me into our favorite prayer ritual. She assured me and would begin praying that I would travel on the road to success, peace and happiness. Such affirmations while sitting close to my mother or sitting on her lap would transport me on a golden road, and sometimes to a paradise. We would reflect on my great, great grandmother, whose name I had become familiar with, even though I never saw my great, great grandparents, or my grandparents.
Over the years, people keep asking me several questions about my life. One question remains at the pinnacle: Who is or are your role models or your mentors? I find it quite impossible to provide a two worded response to the question. In truth, unless the question has to do with a particular issue, I may attempt to provide at least two names as my mentors or role models, but deep down, I muttered the names of other persons, including my parents. As the Chinese proverbs states, I strongly believe, A Child's life is like a piece of paper on which every person leaves a mark." My life is shaped by many persons and numerous events. In all of the stages and events in my life, many persons played one or more roles that influenced events or shaped my life. As a result, I looked deeply at my life whenever I'm asked about my role models or mentors. My mentors are people who have lead me through an important phase or phases in my life. My mentors include friends, teachers/lecturers, relatives, and people I met at places, or while at the cross roads in life. I see mentoring as a great responsibility and require a deep understanding of issues, and admiration and indisputable desire to help those they purposely or unknowingly mentored. As I realized, mentoring encompasses all that a situation requires and even when I just followed my mentor, if I didn't reach my goal, I found myself a few steps away from my goal. Another important experience I learned about mentoring is that, sometimes mentors do not lead us to any goal but they selflessly teach us the way of life. To each person(s) who have held my hand, or pointed me in a direction, I am grateful. While a few of my mentors may try to discount the impact they made on my life, I see all teaching and learning processes- whether big or small, short or long as enormous, because they positively touched my life and made a positive difference in my life. It is that positive touch that I hope to share with many others. Each of my mentors played his/her role at different points, based on what was happening in my life at that time, and sometimes, continue to guide me. My first role models and mentors are my parents, though whenever I didn't understand their insistence, like most teenagers, I would become stubborn, but deep within, I admired and loved my parents very much, and I knew that they loved me too. My parents also knew that I loved them too!
From my parents, I learned about the power of love and the importance of hope and the value of faith. I understood from my parents that love is important. Looking back at my past, my parents believed that expressing unflinching love is vital to nurturing a child's development, building a relationship, communicating and understanding the child, and also allowing them to be creative. I also learned that though it is important to love a child, it is also important to discipline a child. Discipline is a way to teach a child that there are barriers in life that we must recognize and respect. In addition, discipline teaches a child rights from wrongs, so that they can grow up to be productive and responsible citizens. Another important lesson I learned from watching my parents was their ability to cope with challenges in their individual and collective lives. Though they came from different backgrounds, in spite the trials and challenges they faced, they never gave up on life. I guess that experience helped shaped my life and do have a bearing on my own view and attitude about life.
My experiences during my childhood, and teen years genuinely helped shaped my life in many ways. If asked whether there's anything I would want to change about my teen years, my response would be an unsteady "No." I would probably want to always be in the presence of my parents, while on the other hand, I will embrace my teen years, and the twists and turns I experienced that helped me learned a lot of valuable lessons about life. The experiences in my childhood and teen years provided me valuable insights, and continue to guide me into being who I am today. I am confident that the events from those years will continue to serve as guiding light for the days, years and life ahead. I must admit that some of the experiences in my late teen and adult years are painful. Those experiences include the senseless war in my homeland, Liberia; my life as a refugee during the war - being away from my families, and then losing my parents while in exile, are experiences that words are inadequate to express. Although my father did not live to see my work, my mother saw some aspects of my work. However frightened it was, my Mama did not in any way discourage me from pursuing the things I believe, and doing what was right, in spite the daring challenges in promoting human dignity. She encouraged me to persevere, and not to compromise. My Mama's conviction and subtle support, in spite her fear for my safety, continue to be a driving force in both my professional and personal life.
Today, as I sit back and look through the eyes of my teen years, I long to have one more chance to climb the trees that stood gallantly on the land I grew up, waiting to take me for a ride. I want to feel the soft, dark soil on the land where I was born between my toes. I want to play with the dogs, chase the chickens, and run among the shades provide by the trees. I want to bite through one of the freshly harvested fruits from the land on which my navel string was buried. While I may go on wishing and yearning, I know that it is almost impossible to have those dreams and wishes fulfilled. That's simply because my family heirloom and all documents, and all materials of our past, including documentation of my parents' land is one of the casualties of the senseless war that engulfed my homeland. As a result of the war, all documentations to prove that my parents owned the land were destroyed, and some persons took advantage of the absence of the documentation, and resold the land.
After several years of being away from home, I look back on my life, my childhood and teen years with mix emotions: the desire to have just one more time to sit on my dad lap, brush his hair and hear him sing to me; and to sit with my mother as she again take me thorough our story telling rituals- reminding me of my heritage, and her positive affirmations that I will walk on the golden road to success. As I look through the eyes of my childhood, and teen years, and how those years influenced my growth and development, it is my hope that parents, caregivers and families will inspire the childhood and teen years of those in their care. I also hope to instill in my son and all children the values I learned from my parents, and my mentors. Research and experience have proven that the first years are the best! That's simply because, childhood and teen years greatly influence a child's psychological, social, emotional and overall growth and development. The experiences from childhood and teen age years can have an impact on a person's view and outlook of life.
About the author: Musue N. Haddad is a Liberian Journalist/Photo-Journalist. She holds a graduate degree from George Washington University, and has worked both at home and outside of Liberia. She received several national and international awards for her journalistic practices and human rights work, including the Nelson Mandela Award for "Best Student in Photo-Journalism," Human Rights Award from the United Nations Association of the National Capital Area (UNA-NCA), for "outstanding dedication and service towards the recognition, promotion and protection of the inherent dignity and equal and inalienable rights of all members of the human family." and Human Rights Watch Hellmann-Hammett Award, granted to writers around the world who have been the targets of political persecution. In 1998/1999, she received the Press Union of Liberia "Journalist of the Year" and '"Photo-Journalist of the Year" awards.
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