Awaken the dragon within you.

But my loving mother had some­thing else in mind. Her youn­gest child was to be dres­sed as a “clown” for Carni­val. Her sweet little clown. So she put in great effort, spen­ding hours making a clown costume. She got face paint and a wig.

And so it happened that, because as a small boy I couldn’t refuse my mother a wish, I went to the primary school Carni­val cele­bra­tion dres­sed as a clown. The result was that I sat crying on a bench in the assem­bly hall. So much so that all my makeup ran. I didn’t move. I waited until the cele­bra­tion was over, and then I went home.

In the mean­time, my siblings had appar­ently told them. When I walked through the front door, my parents and my siblings gree­ted me. And all of them were holding pieces of a pirate costume. My mother almost tore the clown costume off me, and I was dres­sed as a pirate.

With a sword, pistol, wide belt, torn clothes, a stri­ped shirt, a black headscarf, and an eye patch. And finally, my older sister pain­ted beard stub­ble onto my face.

For three days, I roamed the land as a pirate and made the area unsafe. They were very happy days. To this day, this story is firmly burned into my memory. And I think it is a good place and time to tell it. So that it happens to as few child­ren as possible—to turn a real pirate into a clown.

Empa­thy means under­stan­ding the other person. If my mother had asked me, she could have preven­ted a child­hood dream from being taken away. What makes this story parti­cu­larly bitter is this: I didn’t shake off the image of the class clown for a long time. So, just ask—before you think you alre­ady know what might be better for someone else. Thank you.