Kapiolani Community College
Diamond Journal 2003Fall

“A Friend Loves at All Times, and a Brother Is Born for Adversity”
(Proverbs 17:17)
Anonymous

I am the third child in a family of six children. For over a decade, I have lived away from my family. I have grown distant from them and their day-to-day lifestyle. Before I left, I knew our home environment to be volatile and alcoholic. While I was away, I became numb to the outbursts that had occurred in the past. I was ignorant of the fighting that was going on, and I had forgotten the life I used to live. Two years ago, though, one summer night, I was reacquainted with the family feuds that ignited suddenly and for no reason.

In the past, my stepfather and my mother would argue and fight relentlessly into the night. Some nights you could hear the yelling, often with petty questions like, “Where were you?” “Why weren’t you home when I called?” You could hear objects smashing against the wall, dismantling as they would fall to the ground. On other nights, the sounds were worse. You could hear my mother being slapped, then eventually, punched. The fist’s impact against the body made a dull, morbid thud. At the end of my stepfather’s exercise, you might hear a moan or soft crying. The worst sound to hear was absolute silence. This summer’s fight, though, was between brother and sister.

When I left home, my younger brother and sister, Matt and Michele, were 13 and 10. They were impressionable, respectful, and still obedient to my parents. As they grew older, they grew more and more intolerant of each other because of a chaotic home life.

In their teen years, Matt was obviously and consistently favored by my mother. Michele, on the other hand, was regularly criticized by my mother, who almost never defended Michele against her brother, even when Michele was right. Matt was allotted privileges that Michele was later denied. If Mom was upset with Matt, her privileges were even more restricted. For example, if Mom was mad at Matt for breaking his curfew, then Michele could not go out with her friends. It was usual for Michele to receive the brunt of Mom’s frustrations and anger that were caused by Matt. In turn, this favoritism created a rivalry between brother and sister like that between Cain and Abel.

By their early twenties, both Matt and Michele had become parents. Their rivalry continued as their children were used as objects to compare and criticize each other. In the case of this fight, Michele’s son, Darryl, became the target of Matt’s criticism. Most assuredly, Matt’s criticisms were directed at Michele just out of spite.

Two years ago, Darryl was 5 years old. He was small and thin for his age. Matt’s daughter, Heidi, was a rough and tumble tomboy, 3 years old. She was tall and husky for her age. As is common among children, they fussed over the possession of a toy. Matt jumped in and told Heidi to give Darryl the toy. He called Darryl a fag and a baby. Moderately intoxicated, Matt continued to declare, “Darryl is a fag. He’s nothing but a fag. Just like his mother, Darryl is a big baby.” Uncomfortable with this entire situation, I calmly said to Matt, “That’s enough.” But he was relentless, even provoked by my interference to make his declaration resounding, as if everyone in the house had not already heard.

Ironically, there were quite a few people in the house. Uncle Joe was visiting from Florida, son Joe was accompanying him. My stepfather, “Big Jack,” was in the next room, sitting with Uncle Joe, but within earshot of Matt’s parade. “Little Jack,” my other brother, was on the patio. Michele was doing laundry and trying hard not to explode in front of our visiting relatives, as her child fell prey to a demoralizing uncle. I had come from the kitchen onto the patio, where Matt was now declaring, “Darryl is a fag.”

Despite my requests for Matt to stop taunting the child, he would not stop. Michele made her demands for Matt to leave her son alone. He ignored her. He seemed almost delighted to have started a ruckus. His glare and stance seemed to be asking for a fight. The tension in the air that night was thick. The humidity was nothing in comparison.

Then, all of a sudden, my loud mouthed cousin, Joe, made a comment to Michele. He told her to leave Matt alone. Joe made a big mistake. In the blink of an eye, Michele dropped her basket of clothes, whirled around, and came charging down the steps right in front of Matt’s face. She swung her fists at him a few times and would have connected with his jaw and chest had Joe not blocked the blows with his own body. “Little Jack” rushed in to hold Matt back from taking his shots at Michele. All the while, they were screaming profanities and hurling insults at each other. I was stunned at the explosion of emotions. I had forgotten the drama that used to take place there.

I don’t recall how Joe and “Little Jack” got Michele to stop taking swings at Matt and go her separate way. I can recall that Matt was still looking for a fight. With Michele gone from the scene, I became the object of his contempt. He started to pick another fight.

“Just shut up, already,” I said. His eyes grew larger. His face turned beet red. I could almost see his blood boiling beneath his skin.

“You, shut up,” he said. “If you don’t like it, you can get the hell out of here. Go back to California!” He was moving in on me as he spoke. His right arm was rising up to the side of his head as though he was going to thrust his fist into my face.

“ Go ahead,” I said. “Hit me.” I could hardly believe what was happening in those few moments. I could hardly believe what was coming out of my mouth. I sized Matt up in my mind. He was more than twice my size and very powerful. I knew, if he hit me, I was going to hit the ground. But, I wasn’t afraid of him. I wasn’t afraid of the pain he could have inflicted on me. My nephew’s well being was more important than Matt’s antics.

I’m not sure what stopped him, but Matt did not hit me.

That night, I remembered this proverb. “A friend loves at all times, and a brother is born for adversity” (Proverbs 17:17). My brother was certainly born for adversity. Adversity, just like my brother, was valuable to our lives. It allowed us to experience personal growth and become stronger individuals. Michele is living proof. She endured unfair treatment in her life, and she learned from it. She learned to stand up for herself. She learned to respect herself. She became self-sufficient, reliable, and responsible. She became a remarkable young mother.