The Woman Who Could Not Forget - the life and passing of Iris Chang

 

Will the world miss you when you are gone?

Well, unless you are famous, I really don’t think so. The world is too big to miss everyone in it. Most of us tend to get lost in 5 billion and more. 

But we will be missed by people who know us, especially those close to us. No matter how imperfect, no matter how many times we have disappointed them, they will still think of us fondly. The eulogy usually speaks for itself. 

Today’s paper is about suicide. Ex-YouTube personality, Matthew Wong-Steward, 26, opens up about suicide. 

He said that he contemplated suicide at 16. But a friend’s message “made him take a step back.” He’s married now and has a community where he can make a difference, in particular to those who are tempted to end their life prematurely. 

He said: “I have this platform to share my story. If even one person hears my story and it helps them come to terms with how they feel, I would be incredibly happy.”

Here, I recall what Robert Frost once said: “The only way around is through.” That’s so true. I can imagine we are being surrounded, at all sides, and the only way out is to confront our fear, our past - a process that, for some, will take years to overcome.

Poet John Keats calls it the “valve of our soul-making.” He calls it a school where we get roughed up by our life’s experience, and a place “where,” in the poet’s own words, “the heart must feel and suffer in a thousand diverse ways! Not merely is the Heart a Hornbook (a teaching aid), It is the Mind’s Bible, it is the Mind’s experience, it is the teat from which the mind or intelligence sucks its identity.”

Such words are powerful. They aim to connect us to a purpose beyond ourselves, to become a sum greater than our fragile parts, and to achieve a soul matured with time, seasoned by the scars of life, and driven by a higher purpose. 

Yet, the last thing I want to do is to trivialise your pain. The world is not going to suddenly turn nice just because you decide to perk up. It is more complicated than that. And for some of us, life can genuinely be difficult. The light is faint, and even diminishing, at the end of the tunnel. The day also seems longer and the nights lonelier, quieter.

For who are we kidding? For every life saved, there is one or two lost, if not more. Those who are here, those living, advocate for the living. Their journey in life is just beginning. They are renewed by a purpose bigger than themselves, and its simply refreshing. 

But for those who are not, they are gone. They will be remembered no doubt, but theirs is a life where they can take it no more. They have reached the end of their road - a point of no return. They have ironically succeeded in doing the irreversible. 

Years ago, I read a book entitled “The Woman Who Could Not forget” by Ying Ying Chang. She is the mother of the late author Iris Chang. 

Iris’ book, “The Rape of Nanking” was an impossible book to read to the end. And it is not because it is not interesting. It is just the opposite. But it is hard to read because it was painful to digest, for each page tears the soul up. And till this day, the cover still haunts me. It is definitely not for the faint-hearted. 

Iris herself wrote: -

“Though I had heard so much about the Nanking massacre as a child, nothing prepared me for these pictures - stark black-and-white images of decapitated heads, bellies ripped open, and nude women forced by their rapists into various pornographic poses, their faces contorted into unforgettable expressions of agony and shame.”

Iris was a great talent. She had great goals. In the book, her mother wrote: “Her friend asked Iris what her ultimate goal was in her life. Iris told her friend her ambition was to leave her mark in the literary world and to become a world-famous writer.” 

“The friend criticised Iris for being too individualistic. She didn’t understand why people wanted to be stars, or to be famous. Iris said to me, “What’s wrong with dreaming of the Olympic gold, or the Nobel Prize?” She continued, “What’s wrong with pushing myself to achieve my full potential?””

Well, there’s nothing wrong with pushing oneself to achieve full potential, to fulfill one’s dream. Not all of us can say that we have achieved what we have put our mind to. Some dreams die stillborn. Others are shelved aside, because, well, life happens right? 

My point however is that as tough is life, and striving for your dream, living in itself is even tougher. And before Iris shot herself on 9 Nov 2004, when she was only 36, married with a young child, she wrote this note: -

“Dear Brett, Mom, Dad and Mike: -

For the last few weeks, I have been struggling with my decision as to whether I should live or die.

As I mentioned to Brett (husband), when you believe you have a future, you think in terms of generations and years; when you do not, you live not just by the day - but by the minute.

You don’t want someone who will live out the rest of her days as a mere shell of her former self...I had considered running away, but I will never be able to escape from myself and my thoughts.

I am doing this because I am too weak to withstand the years of pain and agony ahead. Each breath is becoming difficult for me to take...

The anxiety can be compared to drowning in an open sea. I know that my actions will transfer some of this pain to others, indeed those who love me the most. Please forgive me. Forgive me because I cannot forgive myself. 

Love, Iris.”

You have to read the book written by her mother (both her parents are college professors and she had a good upbringing) to understand the life and passing of Iris Chang. There is much more to it than what this short post can offer. 

Yet, what I have learned from the book, the life of Iris Chang, and the Rape of Nanking is that the valve of one soul-making starts from within, as Iris tragically wrote, “I will never be able to escape from myself and my thoughts” and “forgive me because I cannot forgive myself”.

Suicide is a personal act. It is a choice made by the committee of one. Sometimes this committee comes in a mob-like haranguing, and at other times, it is as silent as the night. Both are powerful persuasions to live or to die. 

In living, the soul is saved, and he or she goes on to tell the encouraging, uplifting story. But in choosing otherwise, a life may be lost, yet, it is not a life lived in vain. There is also a story to be told of the passing. It is a story the living will do well to embrace, not just in tears and sorrow, but in hope and faith. 

I always believe that no life that comes from the womb and returns to the place of bliss is ever a waste. He or she is a messenger like Iris, and the story told is always a reminder for us to carry on, to continue our own story, to touch lives in our own way, and to treasure the freedom of living, and the choices that come with it. 

Yes, one day we will also go the way that many have gone before us. One life, one death. We can’t cheat either. But as long as we are still alive, we live to our fullest potential. It may not be one that leads to stardom, or wealth. It can be a simple life lived to uphold a marital vow, a friendship pact, or a faith unwavering. 

For whatever transient glory we have achieved on earth, none of that counts in the end when we just can’t let go.

 

Come to terms with death: Suicide rate in Singapore.

Is it true? As Albert Camus puts it, “Come to terms with death. Thereafter anything is possible.” Can we come to terms with death?

I can imagine our mortal bargain with death. Life and death in a constant struggle to negotiate for a better deal. But what happens when the negotiation breaks down? What if it comes to a deadlock? 

The papers report this: “Record 19 teenage boys committed suicide last year”. They age 10 to 19. It is the highest since records began in 1991. 

As for the total number of suicide, last year’s number of 397 was fewer than in 2016, when the numbers were 429. 

Narrowing down to the young, between 10 and 29, the number was 94. And “for every 10 young people who died from external causes, about six were a result of suicide.”

SOS senior assistant director, Ms Wong Lai Chun, said: “When teens have yet to develop adequate coping mechanisms and there is a lack of awareness of the different stressors this may lead youths to feel overwhelmed and unable to cope.”

Lesson? Just one, and it comes unbridled in these words - “Toxic Musculinity”. That was one of the causes of suicide. 

It reports: “Societal stereotypes that demand men be tough could be one of the barriers preventing male teenagers from seeking help. For every 10 suicides last year, seven were by males.”

Ms Wong said: “Men are stereotypically expected to be tough, stoic, and financially stable. The slightest hint of vulnerability can be seen as an imperfection. This has to change. Men and women alike need to know that it is okay to be less than perfect and we need to educate the public to understand that a supportive and encouraging environment is far more beneficial than a judgmental one.”

Is it okay to be less than perfect in the society we live in? What is the expectations of a man (or a young man) in a world like ours where we measure them not by time, but grades, not by hope but total net worth, and not by faith, but on evidence that must be readily seen and heard in public. 

I always believe that manhood is about being open and vulnerable, and channeling that virtuous brokenness into achieving a deeper understanding of oneself and others so that one can be a more effective and enduring witness when confronting life’s challenges, even in the face of suicide.

But the society has other plans, and the current rise in suicide rates amongst young men may be a symptom of such plans unravelling. Let me elaborate. 

Some time back, I read a book “Invisible Men - Men’s Inner Lives and The Consequences of Silence” by author Michael E. Addis, and he offered this observation into the modern man’s psyche: -

“The bottom line is that a man’s musculinity is measured in large part by his ability to make his public accomplishments widely seen and heard, while keeping his inner life silent and invisible.”

He identified three types of silence. 

First, personal silence - “this is the sort of silence that occurs when a man himself does not even know that he is in pain.” He has a word for it, “alexithymia” translated as “without words for moods”.

Second, private silence - “it is about knowing what is going on but choosing to keep it private...and private silence can become a problem when it is not a choice but a default setting that rarely if ever changes.”

Third, public silence - the author wrote: “Adolescence is a time characterised, among other things, by huge waves of public silencing in boys’ lives. Public silence occurs when people in your environment let you know, in one way of another, that they do not want to hear your vulnerability.” 

“This can happen in ways that range from the subtle (changing the topic) to flat out in your face (“Dude, I don’t know what you’re whining about, everybody’s got problem. Suck it up and move on”).”

Which silence do you suffer from? Pick your poison pls. 

Alas, is the ghost of Nietzsche’s Übermensch (German for "Beyond-Man", "Superman", "Superhuman" or "Hyperhuman”) taking roots in our male psyche? Have we turned manhood into supermanhood? Is invulnerability the new vulnerability? 

This takes me back to the subject I first started with, and I always wonder, what drives a man, a young man, to end his life? 

It is no doubt true that women are twice as likely to attempt suicide, but mind you, men are four times as likely to be successful at it. 

This is sadly our inner resolve as men because, I believe, our silence has become unbearable. It is so loud that our soul can find no peace, no closure, or an anchorage of acceptance in a society that has benchmarked itself (quite relentlessly) against the market-driven traits of Nietzsche’s superhuman. 

We have thus lost our voice because in a society of grossly unequal status and standing, where material acquisition rules, the many men left behind are silenced by a dreaded form of learned helplessness, or the futility of hope. This turns our manhood into one of domination and competition to overcompensate, and what is patient nurturance has become contemptuous discrimination. 

Is there hope in our society then?

As Ms Wong puts it, “Men are stereotypically expected to be tough, stoic, and financially stable. The slightest hint of vulnerability can be seen as an imperfection.” Have we men then made enmity with our manhood, by seeing vulnerability as a form of weakness, or worse, imperfection that cannot be tolerated? 

Alas, maybe the step in the right direction is a pause in our step and see how high we have climbed the Babelian tower of our own enthronement, and then look at all the lives that have been left behind, all the young men who are struggling with a deafening silence they see no hope of breaking out from. 

From there, wherever we are, we have to return their voice. The society has to give back their voice. 

It is a voice that breaks the silence, a voice that collectively restores manhood, and put it back in its rightful place, that is, a place where every men is encouraged and empowered not by an eternal pursuit to fill a void, but an innermost worth beyond the measure of this world to close the gap.

Goo Ha-ra - an early departure.

I always wonder, when a young life ends where does she go? Assuming she goes to heaven, will she find peace there? Will she find what she is looking for? What kind of conversation will she have with God? 

Another K-pop star Goo Ha-ra, only 28, has ended her life. Ironically that was what she had control over. She ended it by a decision she’d made independently, on her own, at the very threshold she made it. 

Goo was a former member of popular K-pop girl group Kara. It disbanded in 2016. Goo later released a solo Japanese-language single, Midnight Queen, this month. She had also just “wrapped up a mini-tour in Japan from Nov 14 to 19.”

Her death follows at the heels of another K-pop star Sulli, 25 (whose full name was Choi Jin-ri). Both took their lives in the privacy and comfort of their homes. Choi aka Sulli was found dead on 14 Oct. 

Goo’s last words were about a certain much-sought-after recovery. 

She wrote: “I’m sorry for causing concerns and a commotion. In terms of health, I am recovering...I had been in agony over a number of overlapping issues. But from now on, I will steel my heart and try to show up healthy.”

Overlapping issues? Well, it reports that Goo has been “embroiled in a public row with a former boyfriend whom she accused of assault and said had threatened to release sex tapes of the two of them.” 

Mind you, the K-pop industry is ”known for its cut-throat competitiveness, a lack of privacy, online bullying and relentless public pressure to maintain a wholesome image at all times.”

Lesson? One. 

We live in different times. We can’t really protect our kids all the time, at least in the way our parents could during their time. And during their time, social media was non-existent. 

So, when they need feedback about themselves, they either look at the mirror and do the necessary adjustments or ask their parents and friends for advice, and I trust most of the time, they will be kind and constructive about it. 

At least, there were still some filter from trusted loved ones. And their privacy was amply preserved. 

At that age, struggling with the fragility of self, they need all the buffer they can muster between themselves and the world (and its culture). But with the rampancy of social media, that buffer is blown away. 

In another section of the papers today, Joyce Teo wrote an article entitled “Let’s chat about stress - complications from social media.”

In the article, Dr Charmaine Tang, a consultant from IMH, said that the top stressors among youth are relationship problems, studies or work, and the emerging adult responsibilities.

Dr Tang also said that “social media can add a layer of complexity to the problems some youth face.” She was talking about cyber bullies. 

In her chat with 16 to 21, she said, “They may post pictures of themselves looking good, looking slimmer, or of their things in the hope of being perceived in a certain way.” 

Dr Tang cited a case where “they were poking fun at her, calling her fat and ugly. Whatever she posted on Instagram, people would slam her. That caused her quite a bit of distress. She was referred by the school counsellor as she had suicidal thoughts and was self-harming.”

Alas, all this somehow reminded me of Goo’s last words, “But from now on, I will steel my heart and try to show up healthy.”

Is our social media age an age where our young strive to “show up” in whatever ways (or image) they feel would please their nameless and faceless fans, acquaintances or friends? 

Is it no longer about themselves as themselves in whatever season of nurturing growth they are in, but it is now about what others in social media expect of them and how they try, even if to breaking point, to bridge that gap?

Alas, it used to be that when they look into the mirror, the simple reflection shows only one image, that is, their very own. And from there, they reflect upon it in solitude and do the necessary changes as they deem fit at the pace befitting of that season.

Now, when they look into the social media mirror, what they see are hundreds, if not thousands of faces, with expectations they often struggle to keep up, and with their own image lost in the crowd. 

So, let me return to the imagined conversation that Goo may have with God (bear with me here, or indulge me). 

...

God: “How are you my child?”

Goo: “Are you...God?”

God nods.

Goo: “Is this heaven?”

God: “It is a place where you can be yourself, yes.”

Goo: “Oh...I am in heaven?”

God smiles.

Goo: “Oh...I am so sorry. What have I done?”

God: “My child, you are here now, with me.”

Goo: “God, why didn’t you stop me? Why didn’t you appear and warn me? Surely, that would change things right?”

God: “But, would it have changed you?”

Goo: “erm...I think so. You are God, for heaven’s sake! Oops, sorry.”

God: “My child, you are deeply loved. That love has been there all along. It started from creation and it is made perfect in my son.”

Goo: “yes, I have heard about that. But somehow, it’s just not enough. I needed something more than that. Something that is attention grabbing. God, if I may be frank, at times, my boyfriend and even my fans are more real than you.”

God: “That’s what I mean child. Would it have changed you? What you have been looking for is not what will change you ultimately from the inside. The choices you’ve made have consequences. And they are made not by you, but by the people or things you felt at that time matters to you.”

Goo: “I have been told that many times. It is not easy. I feel I needed to fill that gap, even to breaking point.”

God: “Well child, your rest comes from what you build within you. It comes from finding the right anchor, one that loves you unconditionally.”

Goo: “I have also heard about that too.”

God: “Yes, but hearing it more than once doesn’t make it less true right? It only makes it more urgent, and when you fail to act on it, it makes it more of a nuisance. But truth is tough. It is tough love.”

Goo: “I guess you’re right. You’re God after all. So, where do I go from here?”

God: “You are now in a place you can be yourself. A place where the anchor never changes. It is an anchor that does not depend on views or opinions, but love, overcoming love. It is a place you know on earth as home.”

Dennis Chew's apology and the tragedy of Sanjeevi.

Dennis Chew has apologised. It took some time but he did it, on Instagram.

He wrote: “My role in a recent ad has caused much disappointment. For many days I held back what I have to say, afraid of making things worse. I feel terrible about how things turned out.”

Dennis admitted that he is unable to undo the wrong. “We live in a harmonious multiracial society and we must never take it for granted. I will set higher expectations of myself. I will do better by my family, friends, colleagues and most importantly, all of you.”

Well, an apology is an apology, just as the Nair siblings too have apologised. Theirs took two takes though, but again, an apology strives to bridge the gap and bring heated matters to a cooler zone. It is hoped that this saga will find some closure after this. 

Incidentally, another news caught my attention. It is about race too. That is, the discrimination and bully that tragically led to the suicide of a young Malaysian PhD student. Her name? Ms Jerusha Sanjeevi. 

Jerusha was a “child-rape survivor of Chinese and Indian descent.”  

The papers report that “she was a bright young Malaysian student pursuing a doctorate in clinical and counselling psychology because she wanted to help children the world over.”

Before her suicide, she was pursuing her PhD in Utah State University (USU) and “she also had to persevere through months of what she described as racial bullying and insults at her university.”

Her parents are suing USU for their alleged inaction over their daughter’s “multiple reports of relentless racist bullying.”

It further reports that: “Ms Sanjeevi had a master's degree in clinical psychology and had enrolled as a doctoral student in USU's combined clinical and counselling psychology programme just eight months before her suicide. She died on April 22, 2017, of acute carbon monoxide poisoning.” 

She was only 24 years old then. 

In the suit, “it claims that the department "knowingly allowed one of its students to be verbally abused, intimidated and subjected to cultural and racist discrimination by favoured students over the course of eight months"”. 

The suit also ”alleges that the university, where 83 per cent of its students are white, had a pattern of favouritism as well as racism against international students”.

Jerusha wrote this note to a close friend: “Every day I dread going to class now because I sit three feet from my white bully.”

The bully “would not only kick her whenever she spoke in class, but would also say she smelled like Indian food and talked about how dark skin was a sign of inferiority.”

FYI, the university has called the suicide a “tragic event” and denied all allegations. 

Lesson? Dennis’ words ring true for me - “We live in a harmonious multiracial society and we must never take it for granted.”

Jerusha could be our own daughter, in desperation, crying for help, but never finding it at a time or moment she needs it most. 

Mind you, she had gone through a lot as a child-rape survivor and her resolve to help other children via her PhD studies showed hopeful signs of overcoming her own pain and past. 

Alas, what she could not however expect in a community of supposedly enlightened individuals (at least academically) was one that cannot rise above their own baser instinct. 

If nature is what we are created to rise above, then some communities are sadly still imprisoned in and fall prey to their own animalistic insecurities to single out, dehumanise and ostracise others, even driving their victims to end their life, just so that they can feel good about themselves.

Taking nothing for granted would mean that as reflective individuals with well-attuned self-awareness, we have to constantly check ourselves when we are tempted to dehumanise another human being on a quirk or in defensive response based on the most deplorable and superficial like religion, language, culture, nationality, and/or the colour of one’s skin. 

We must thus avoid (by autopilot) reaching for the lowest hanging fruit of racism, tribalism, narcissism, and individualism in the diverse garden of humanity, and seek instead to understand beyond our own skin and the skin of another, so as to take the time and consideration to nurture what is common to all humanity, that is...

our capacity to and for love, 

our hope for change, 

our joy of a life reformed,

our prosocial responses to do good,

our appeal to reason and moral purpose against the frenzy of unmoored passions, 

and last but not least, 

our courage to stand for what is right, and to pursue it even when at times, we find ourselves standing alone.