A leadership reflection on ancestry, parenting, purpose, and the weight of invisible impact
Part 1: Legacy Begins at Home
1. A Morning Drive to the Past (6:30AM)
It was 6:30AM. I had just dropped the kids home.
We were on our way to do the annual tomb sweeping (扫墓)—a tradition I’ve missed for years. But this year felt different. This time, I wasn’t going through the motions.
For the first time since starting our no-legacy project, I started paying attention.
I realized: We are the sixth generation. Our roots trace back to Hun, Yang, Yongchun, China. Something clicked. This wasn’t just a ritual. This was remembrance. And remembrance is the seed of legacy.
I made a decision: I will never miss this again—not just for tradition’s sake, but to turn this into something deeper, more meaningful. Maybe even a project with the family. Not just sweeping tombs—but sweeping through memory, identity, and purpose.

2. The Tomb of a 16-Year-Old and a 5,000 Ringgit Car
We cleaned tombs across different locations. One stood out: my great-granduncle, who died at age 16, yet had a full tomb.
Even today, some people can’t afford one.
“Was he from a rich family?” I asked. And the stories began to flow.
My great-grandfather was a businessman. In 1939, he owned the first car in An Chor—an Austin. It cost RM5,000 back then. You could’ve bought 100 acres of land with that.
It sounded absurd—until I realized: they weren’t buying a car.
They were buying status, access, belief in the future.
He returned to China several times during persecution, bringing his mother and her sister to safety in Malaysia. That wasn’t convenience. That was courage.
3. The Fertilizer Trade & Chinese Ingenuity
My parents shared stories I had never heard. About how the government gave free fertilizer to Malay farmers—yet they would sell it to the Chinese.
The Chinese? They used it wisely. Grew the best vegetables. Outsold everyone.
That’s not exploitation. That’s resilience. Vision. Strategy.
My mother said, “Back then, as long as you worked hard, you could get rich.”
But I don’t think it’s limited to that generation. Even now—laziness is non-negotiable.
Hard work isn’t just a path to money. It’s a virtue. It strengthens everything you do—relationships, purpose, leadership. It is the default trait that never goes obsolete.
4. The Talent We Bury
While talking with my aunt during a coffee pit stop, she casually said, “You know you have land under your name, right?”
I didn’t.
That one sentence unlocked a flood of questions.
Which is better?
To grow up thinking you have nothing, work hard, then realize you come from wealth?
Or to grow up knowing you’re from a wealthy family, and lose the drive to become someone capable?
Wealth without virtue is a curse.
It reminded me of the biblical servant who buried his one talent. He wasn’t evil. He was preserving. But that’s not what the Master asked for.
Legacy isn’t preservation. It’s multiplication.
Part 2: Legacy Requires Sacrifice
5. Missing My Wife, Missing My Grandma (9:45PM)
After putting the kids to sleep, I took Loki, our dog, for a walk.
My wife couldn’t join tomb sweeping—she’s pregnant. And I was worried. She was on my mind the whole day.
And then something unexpected happened.
My phone buzzed. People were congratulating me—I had just appeared on Channel 8, speaking about the rising trend of Singaporean parents sending their kids to JB. I had forgotten all about it.
Most of the messages didn’t mean much. But then my sister texted:
“You’re the first in the family to appear on TV. Ah Ma would be so proud. I can imagine her on the sofa, replaying your interview again and again. Proud grandson she has.”
And I broke a little inside.
Ah Ma…
I miss her.
I hope I’ve made her proud.
6. Vanity, Vanity: What Are You Really Chasing?
People celebrated my TV appearance. I texted back one line:
“Vanity, vanity. All these are meaningless. Let’s focus on the real work—our family, our community, our purpose.”
I wasn’t trying to be humble. I was reminding myself.
I’ve spent so much energy building, growing, expanding. For God. For family. For legacy.
But I had forgotten the eternal hope—that one day we shall meet again. I had let fear take the wheel: fear of losing my parents, my wife, my children.
Fear makes you cling.
Purpose makes you release.
7. My Children’s Coping Mechanisms and Mine
Earlier that day, I took my kids swimming—burned their energy. In the car, we talked about what they could improve on.
One said, “I got angry today.”
We talked about coping. “When you’re angry, you feel energy building up. It needs to go somewhere. Some shout. Some throw. It’s okay to feel angry. But ‘in your anger, do not sin.’”
They asked me, “Dad, what’s your coping mechanism?”
One joked, “Scold us lor. Beat us.”
Another defended me: “No, Daddy hardly does that.”
I told them the truth:
“My coping is to swim. To work out. To walk with Loki while recording voice notes like this.”
These are the real moments that build a legacy.
Not speeches.
Not appearances.
Conversations in a car.
3. Legacy Is Who You Become
8. From Lecturer to Preschool Teacher to Photographer
People ask about my career path.
Accounting lecturer → Preschool founder → International school → Author.
But my real education began when I realized parents shape discipline more than teachers do.
I started our preschool just to understand children. I told myself I’d never go into early childhood. But I had to unlearn my ego.
Preschool is hard.
You have to be a clown, a magician, a philosopher. You have to teach little ones how to understand something as fundamental as sharing. It’s not easy.
And yet, it’s where I found the core of education: Parenting is the curriculum. Teachers are the bridge. And leadership is just another word for invisible sacrifice.
9. The Photographer’s Philosophy: Capture the Moment Without Being in It
I used to be a photographer. And I loved it.
I was shy. But once the camera was in my hands, I had power. I could ask anyone to pose. I had permission.
My motto?
“Capture the moment—as if I wasn’t there.”
That’s the leadership I believe in. Not loud. Not flashy.
Invisible. Transformational. Situational. Servant-hearted.
Real leadership happens when people grow…
and forget to thank you—because they think they did it themselves.
That’s success.
Part 4: Legacy Is What You Pass Forward
10. The Reverse That Redefines It All
The opposite of legacy…
Isn’t failure.
It’s self-preservation.
It’s building walls to keep what you have.
It’s refusing to multiply because you’re afraid to lose.
It’s clinging so tightly to wealth that you crush the virtue inside it.
Legacy is not what you leave behind. It’s what you pass forward. Through stories. Through virtue. Through scars. Through quiet walks with your children.
11. Final Reflection: Build the Future, But Start From Home
My eldest son Aden struggles to understand his role as a big brother. He focuses on himself. And I understand that—because I was once the only son, and I hated that responsibility.
But now, I see it as a blessing. Just like going to the gym—carrying others grows you stronger.
If I could pass on only four things to my children, they would be:
1. Self-Identity – Know who you are. Know your roots. Speak your language. Own your story.
2. Cultural Relevance – Embrace where you live, who you live with. Appreciate the diversity of Malaysia.
3. Financial Literacy – Don’t waste. Don’t inherit without skill. Earn before you receive.
4. Social Responsibility – The world is bigger than you. Love your neighbor. Serve others.
Call to Action:
Take 15 minutes tonight.
Write down one virtue your ancestor embodied.
Then ask yourself:
“Am I passing this forward—or just preserving what they left behind?”
Legacy doesn’t begin with inheritance.
It begins with intentional living.
Start today.
Start at home.
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