The proxy trader
I grew up in a middle class family. A family of four, Mummy was the typical tiger mum of the 80s-90s - a cane in every room in the house, her able and trustworthy companion that made her ever so formidable. Papa was the sole breadwinner, slogging out long hours at the office, if only to ensure we were sufficiently provided for.
I always remember looking forward to hearing Papa’s footsteps approaching our gate every evening, though not for entirely filial reasons. Papa’s return meant that I would be freed - albeit temporarily - from the shackles of my assessment books, to have dinner, and to catch the evening drama on Channel 8.
My interactions with Papa was always something I looked forward to, as he was the “Good Cop” to Mummy’s “Bad Cop” persona. He was always saving me from the never-ending cruelty called assessment books!
In the afternoons, he would call back from the office, then have me switch on Teletext, gave me the name of a stock, and I would read off the price, the trading volume, the gain/loss etc. This would be repeated for several stocks. This was my first “foray” into the world of securities. I enjoyed it, as I felt like I was helping Papa with a very important chore.
Never did I realise I was helping my dad dig a hole for himself - the 1997 Asian Financial Crisis struck, and it struck hard. Every afternoon call from Papa became more frantic. Though Papa tried to hide it, the sighs, the long silences after I reported the numbers, on hindsight, said a lot. I remember one call in particular - Papa told me, “Boy ah, Papa is sorry okay? I lost a lot of money. Next time when you grow up, don’t be like Papa - learn to invest, not speculate.” I didn’t really understand all that he said at the time, nor did I comprehend the gravity of the situation, but I was confused because he was always my role model. So I said, “Papa, why you say that? I always want to be like you when I grow up. Don’t say sorry okay?” “Thank you Boy, Papa loves you.”
That was one of the very few times I have ever heard Papa saying he loves me. (The perils of a traditional conservative Asian upbringing.)
Our family went through a tough time, but we made it through the crisis, intact. Papa worked extra hard over the years, and I know he always had our wellbeing at heart in whatever he did. As I grew up, and grew more aware, I realised how close my family was to being torn apart by the ‘97 AFC, I am thankful I still remember those words from Papa - “learn to invest, not speculate”.
I always remember looking forward to hearing Papa’s footsteps approaching our gate every evening, though not for entirely filial reasons. Papa’s return meant that I would be freed - albeit temporarily - from the shackles of my assessment books, to have dinner, and to catch the evening drama on Channel 8.
My interactions with Papa was always something I looked forward to, as he was the “Good Cop” to Mummy’s “Bad Cop” persona. He was always saving me from the never-ending cruelty called assessment books!
In the afternoons, he would call back from the office, then have me switch on Teletext, gave me the name of a stock, and I would read off the price, the trading volume, the gain/loss etc. This would be repeated for several stocks. This was my first “foray” into the world of securities. I enjoyed it, as I felt like I was helping Papa with a very important chore.
Never did I realise I was helping my dad dig a hole for himself - the 1997 Asian Financial Crisis struck, and it struck hard. Every afternoon call from Papa became more frantic. Though Papa tried to hide it, the sighs, the long silences after I reported the numbers, on hindsight, said a lot. I remember one call in particular - Papa told me, “Boy ah, Papa is sorry okay? I lost a lot of money. Next time when you grow up, don’t be like Papa - learn to invest, not speculate.” I didn’t really understand all that he said at the time, nor did I comprehend the gravity of the situation, but I was confused because he was always my role model. So I said, “Papa, why you say that? I always want to be like you when I grow up. Don’t say sorry okay?” “Thank you Boy, Papa loves you.”
That was one of the very few times I have ever heard Papa saying he loves me. (The perils of a traditional conservative Asian upbringing.)
Our family went through a tough time, but we made it through the crisis, intact. Papa worked extra hard over the years, and I know he always had our wellbeing at heart in whatever he did. As I grew up, and grew more aware, I realised how close my family was to being torn apart by the ‘97 AFC, I am thankful I still remember those words from Papa - “learn to invest, not speculate”.
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impro : like
muddygrassOP impro: Thank you. It was cathartic for me to relive the memories through this piece.
aoimizu : Yah I remember that time. You'd hear of so and so committed suicide. It was a dark time. Glad we all learn something and happy your family made it through!
muddygrassOP aoimizu: Yes, dark times. Many got burnt, lives and families disrupted. I’m glad too that we survived it!