What a 16-Year-Old Boy Taught Me

2020 was a breathtaking year for me. It was the year I leveled up, wrote a book and………. met a teenager. Go ahead and laugh.

But it all started out with a pandemic rendering me jobless. Here’s the story.

The Covid Plague

When the dreadful Covid-19 obstructed work and life in March 2020, I found myself unable to work and suddenly confronted with huge amounts of free time. SchoolHeroes, the school program I ran involved big groups of students and I was among the first casualties forbidden from conducting any work activities.

And so, while all my friends worked from home and adjusted their appointments to Zoom, I found myself horizontal on the sofa. What should I do, I wondered as I slunk from my bedroom to the dining room like a slothful pig. Thankfully, finances were less of a concern for I had enough investments and savings to tide me over this difficult period. The bigger fright was spending huge swathes of time being unproductive while everyone else moved on.

And unproductive I sure was. I spent many days drinking coffee and shopping online. Hell I loved it! Being trapped at home suited me just fine. And then it hit me. What if I dedicated my time indoors leveling up my knowledge? The last time anyone gave themselves to that was school or university days. Why not use this luxury of time to do just that? Improve myself! Self-appoint my own books and syllabus. Read!

My plan therefore was to learn as much as I could from smart people during my home incarceration. And so I did. Out of all the people I watched on YouTube, I landed on Jordan Peterson, Douglas Murray and Sam Harris as my “lecturers.” I watched countless podcasts by them and read their books. I did this consistently for about one year, and in that short time, drastically developed new ways of seeing the world. No joke.

My oh my it was a good year. I found myself reading harder books, articulating myself differently and feeling hopeful and excited. A year of leveling up my knowledge and maturity. Is this not the ultimate “self-care?” to use that annoyingly clichéd word. I had spent the last 2 years working tirelessly on my school program SchoolHeroes, a project I admit to starting from a naïve social justice angle. Ideals that were perhaps formed from a lack of understanding world history and human nature. I realized all these with clarity during my year of leveling up.

The year of the Covid plague was when I changed much of my beliefs – politics and social. Jordan Peterson is the 20th century Plato and from him I learned a tableau of cool wisdom and how to better navigate the maleficence of life. His book “12 Rules of Life,” made me drop certain tendencies and became more vehement in my vague beliefs.

But it was Jordan’s Rule 3 that got me reeling. “Make friends with people who want the best for you,” Jordan said bluntly. “You’re associating with people who are bad for you not because it’s better for anyone but because it’s easier. You know it. Your friends know it.”

Make Friends with People Who Want The Best for You!

Good God! The hard truth of that sentence floored me. I found myself inhaling deeper as I reread Dr Peterson’s wisdom. Really? Was I doing that sub-consciously? I admit for a long time, I maintained friendships because I was comfortable around them. It wasn’t particularly productive or enjoyable friendships, but I kept it because it was comfortable. In other words………… easy. Equally, I never pursued friendships everytime I felt less comfortable. It wasn’t a bad discomfort – as in it being a bad person; it was a discomfort from being unused to that person’s frequency. Had I been going about it wrong?

I reflected on some of my past behaviours. Admittedly I had patterns in my friendships and relationships that were not great. People have many opinions about who you should choose to be your romantic partner, but are surprisingly lax when it comes to friendship standards. Maybe they are less aware, maybe its convenience, maybe it’s that desire to appear kind and unprejudiced, to say “I can be friends with everybody.” Yet we cannot deny that we are most influenced by the people we choose to surround ourselves with. For that reason alone, we should be selective.

By the time I finished Jordan Peterson’s book, I was determined to have better people around me. I wanted more people whom I could look up too and learn from. I wanted people who were kind, thoughtful and who had a great work ethic. However the majority of people come in a mixed bag of good and bad. You may find a lovely and kind person, but then, that lovely and kind person is less conscientious and unreliable. Or you may find a motivated person, but that motivated person is rude and a know-it-all. Was it possible to find someone with a less mixed bag?

Yes! I decided I wanted better quality people in my life. I was confident I had put the work in myself to be able to ask. And so one night, with the preponderance of a monk, I sat up on my bed and said very clearly out loud to the Universe. “Dear Universe, please send me someone who is stellar. Someone who is intelligent, a leader, kind, has good manners, punctual, keeps to his word and is sensitive to the feelings of others.” I smiled and rolled back under my covers.

A few days later, a 16-year old boy appeared in my life.

The Universe Sent Me A Boy

Guan Quan and I first met in his school where I conducted the SchoolHeroes program.

 I first met Guan Quan during my SchoolHeroes program in a predominantly Chinese school at the edge of Kepong. He was talkative and mischievous with floppy hair over his eyes. During the 3 hours where I taught relationships to him and his 70 schoolmates, I recalled his sulky expression, mouth screwed to one side, listening intently throughout.

When my program completed, Guan Quan followed me on Instagram, greatly surprising me. I rarely make an impact on Chinese-speaking students unlike the Malay and Indian students who take to me like fish to water. Anyhow, that was the extent of our friendship for the next year. Just following each other on Instagram; me on my larger-than-life account, and him perpetually non-existent online.

In the beginning of this pandemic, I also decided that I was going to write and publish my first novel. The manuscript was done and I spent the middle part of the year meeting with my distributor and editor to complete the book process. By year end, the editing process completed and I was ecstatic and nervous while awaiting its final print. Ecstatic because it was a dream, an achievement for me. Nervous because I was putting myself out there to God-knows-what. No writer enjoys being criticized. We were also in a pandemic, meaning book exhibitions and retail businesses were suffering.

In my quest to shore up excitement for my book, I had an idea to get my SchoolHeroes students to do readings of my book. I began contacting a few students and was extremely heartened when they responded with enthusiasm and kindness. Among them of course was Guan Quan. I texted him and recalled feeling an unusually warm chemistry as he replied cheerfully. We made plans to meet.

It was exactly this time that I sat on bed with the preponderance of a monk and beseeched the Universe to send me someone with a stellar bag of qualities. Man, the Universe got to work immediately!

I was to meet Guan Quan in a fruit tea shop in Kuchai Lama for the book reading. When my car rolled in front of the premise, Guan Quan strode out like a palace vanguard welcoming me with outstretched arms. Except that it was a different boy that greeted me. One year had passed since we last met. Gone was the sulky boy with the perpetual pout and floppy hair. Instead. He seemed a little taller, a little straighter in posture and very articulate all of a sudden. My eyes widened with amusement. He had also gelled his hair so I found myself looking at someone boyish and contemporary.

Guan Quan was polite, respectful and proactive in conversation. I couldn’t quite believe how easy the chemistry was between us. When he asked me “Can I come to your house oftenly?” I knew instantly he was special. For the next hour, I had the most magical time with him and it seemed like the most natural thing to ask him to follow me home. He was elated when I let him drive my car, and went nuts when he found out my family had a Tesla at home. Turns out he was a crazed car enthusiast. We drove home full of chatter, despite the abrupt jolts he made with my car, unused to the brake.

A few days later, I asked him along to visit some underprivileged students of mine. I arrived half an hour late because Waze massively failed me and sent me to the other side of Kuala Lumpur. I apologized profusely as he came running out, his mom smiling from behind. He began chattering with me in the car, complaining about a sinister older friend who was buying him gifts. “He’s 30 and I’m 16. How am I supposed to be friends with him? What can we talk about? It’s not like both of us, we can tell each other anything.” I almost laughed, at how unaware he was at the contradiction of his statement.  I was far older than 30 and yet, here we were, talking like two peers effortlessly.

Good People Really Do Exist

“Are you going to be punctual this time?” Guan Quan texted when we made plans a few days later. Yikes! It felt like I had to up my game. “Of course!” I replied laughing. I appeared 10 minutes early and Guan Quan jumped in a like a bright bee in his yellow striped shirt.

At the risk of sounding melodramatic, Guan Quan just bowled me over. During our outings around other people, he wasn’t helpless. He had initiative in conversation. He didn’t hang around me like I was the leader and he the student follower. He was eager to value-add and be an equal. He spoke up when something bothered him. He told me he could give tuition to my underprivileged students. He asked my students what their goals were and was genuinely perplexed when they said “Nothing.” He looked at me. “How come ah?”

“And what are your goals?” I asked. “To get straight As and to improve my school band,” he replied. I couldn’t help nodding with a semblance of pride.

The next time we met with my underprivileged students, he brought books and bags for them. I heard him giving suggestions to my students’ mom on ways to make money to ease the poverty. And he repeatedly asked them, “Do you lock your door? Maybe you should lock your door.” Despite my being much older, he never took advantage of the fact that I was the more well-to-do. He always offered to pay and wanted to share each time I treated the students. I have to admit, that won him huge marks in my eyes.

Guan Quan comes from a Chinese-speaking background in where his family and friends are steeped in its culture. I have noticed that a Confucian education imbues a person with a little more wisdom compared to the more active Western-minded person. There is a lot of emphasis on respect for elders and a sense of responsibility for the community. This was in abundance in Guan Quan.

One night, one of my underprivileged students, the young Suresh was feeling a little stressed and wanted to stay over in my place. Guan Quan was present when the request was made. I was non-committal and disappeared to do something. Upon my return, Guan Quan was going all Confucian and asking Suresh why he wanted to stay over.  Was it the right thing to do? Would it be troubling me? I stood in the background and listened with some amusement. I knew he took up the conversation because he wanted to solve the problem for me. I appreciated the thoughtfulness tremendously. Hell, it sort of touched me.

In Chinese, there is a term called “zuo ren.” There is no equivalent in the English language because a word exists when it is prominent among its people. The Chinese language is full of nuance and assumptions. Literally translated, “zuo ren” means “to be a human being.” One is expected to know, even when something is not said explicitly.

If someone invites you to the house, you should know how to bring some food over. If someone offers to treat you, you should know not to order the most expensive item. These are the examples of “zuo ren” and present in much of Asian culture. As Westernised as I am, I subscribe to the “zuo ren” attitude. It is good manners and bestows much likeability to the doer. Guan Quan was all that. If I may say, he represented Chinese manners and finesse with excellence.

When he noticed a dried up road tax sticker on my car, he looked at it thoughtfully before saying he would bring me a plastic slip for my future road tax. Then he reminded me a few times to ensure my tires were straight when I parked. “It’s not good otherwise for your car. And by the way, I think you should go check your tires.” I was bemused but appreciative by the thought. He was just ever helpful; fixing my laptop login issue, rushing to speak Mandarin to the bumbling Grab driver before I could and settling my rowdy students who used to come over.

I have to remind myself that he’s 16. I forget, really I do, because sometimes it seems like I’m talking to one of my peers. He gets many things, and has a lot of wisdom which I confidently attribute to a Chinese education and a solid upbringing by his parents. That and the person that he is.

We don’t realise it, but we like people because of their qualities. A hardworking person is instantly more attractive than a lazy one. A good listener is more attractive than a mansplaining-talk-a-lot. The list goes on. Guan Quan comes with a bag of qualities I like. Everything I summoned from the Universe, he checks. He’s intelligent, thoughtful, responsible and reliable. I respect him. And I feel lucky to be in his circle. I like it even more that he is fluent in English and Mandarin and speaks with a refined tongue. When he used the word “barely” and “ever more” to me, I burst out laughing. It’s not a word you hear often from Chinese-speaking students. I am proud to introduce him to my friends. During my online book launch, I organized a party in where friends came over to watch and do book readings. When Guan Quan appeared at the time he said would, I remember thinking, “Now my launch is going to be great!”

I think the reason why I have been able to forge so wonderful a friendship with Guan Quan is because I treat him like my peer. I have noticed the tendency among many to be more adult-like and patronizing when speaking to significantly younger people. The assumption that one knows more because one is older is ignorant and pompous in my opinion. The need to share experiences (a yawn sometimes) and get all sagely can be overdone. I like to think that I am hardly like that.

Yes I have certain life experiences that Guan Quan doesn’t. But him and me are also from different generations. He belongs to a generation which is over-exposed to everything because of social media and a burgeoning technological boom. There is a gap, but it isn’t too gargantuan a gap compared to a comparison made 2 generations ago. There are things I know which Guan Quan has yet to reach because of his youth. Similarly there are trends, generational and a variety of things things he knows which I don’t. It’s a value-add both ways.

He’s Made Me A Better Person

It’s easy to find intelligent people. It’s not easy to find intelligent and thoughtful people. It’s easy to find kind people. It’s not easy to find kind and confident people.  

I have to say Guan Quan makes a lot of guys in my life look less attractive. I have become less patient to people who are irresponsible, unpunctual and unthoughtful. It’s also become easier to let go of friends I think have undesirable traits. When you have a true living example next to you, your reality changes and excuses sound lamer. When you have better quality people in your life, you up your game. You tolerate less. You start life from a higher point.

Perhaps because I value his opinion and respect him, I find myself holding myself to a higher standard in my daily life. Life throws wayward situations to me every now and then, and I have to admit, I factor Guan Quan’s opinion of me in it. Knowing that I may do something that may compel his disappointment in me has become my new barometer. It’s a new “burden” that I embrace.

I understand now the value of parents and loved ones besides just being there to raise us and root us on. It makes us get our act together, makes us aspire to be better.  Without anyone to care or look up to us, falling astray is so much easier.

At the end of the year, a former boyfriend came into my life, hoping to rekindle things. While I was no longer infatuated, it was tempting to have him hang around because it could sort of be an entertaining pastime. But as strange as this sounds, Guan Quan’s opinion of me weighed heavily on my mind. I liked that Guan Quan respected me, and wanted to keep it that way, even if he knew nothing about my personal life and decisions. With that in mind, it was easy to close the door to that old chapter.

When we had another lockdown in 2021, me and Guan Quan kept in touch via text. He was going through a tough time as president of his school band and I felt bad for him. Why not we do a car review, I suggested. May take your mind off things. He was excited! I found myself going out of the way for him in ways where I rarely do for others. I don’t even recall being this helpful to any former boyfriends. Perhaps it’s just because I genuinely like and respect the person that he is. In the absence of respect, like is vulnerable. In the presence of respect, like flourishes.

How rare is it that you meet someone you like and that person likes you back? And how wonderful it is when that person wants to be there.

In life, only romantic love gets attention. But there are many kinds of special bonds that fulfill life, give happiness and is just as meaningful.

What did a 16-year-old boy teach me?

Simply, he taught me that people I wanted existed.

And if it does for me, it does for you too.

That’s my 16-year-old boy right there :)