I am the last son in an unbroken line of seven sons.  I often joke that I suspect that when my mother was pregnant with me she was hoping I would be born a girl, and that at my delivery when the mid-wife told her “it’s a boy” she responded, “bway (meaning ‘boy’) again”.  My parents’ first daughter (and the only one for six years) was born less than two years after I was born. Any cuteness I had as the last child would have been eclipsed, not only by the fact that I was no longer the last but more importantly, by the fact that my “natural” competitor was the only one of her kind!

Growing up as a young teen, and in early adulthood, I was often uncomfortable with people who believe that their views or ways of doing things were right, simply because they had the power to say so!  Naturally my sibling rivalries were most times with my sister (the only girl!) and the brother who immediately preceded me.  In my fights with my sister I was most times pronounced wrong, even if I were right.  Soon I found myself making the error of taking on one of my brothers in the hope that since being right seemed to go with being younger, I would be right.  I was to discover that even though I was ‘given’ right, it did not help much since I had already received some blows – physical and emotional.