My Mother Was A Thief - Part 2

A Graphic and Audio Story

The comic graphics in this post are created by author and illustrator Pan Cooke, who shares my passion for racial and social justice.

And here is a The Nocturnists podcast episode of my live performance of this epic story … the comedy version🤣.

Read Part I here—>

When the police caught her trying to steal a baby, she told them I was hers, so it wasn’t stealing.

“Ma’am, why are you doing this? Your daughter is going to be stupid.” They asked her.

To her, it was as if they asked her, “Why do you even love your baby?” Is there anything more absurd than a mother having to explain why she loved her child?

“My baby is not stupid.” She tried not to cry (or maybe she was crying).

“That’s not what the doctors said.” The police told her before handing her a deck of paper to sign.

My mother swallowed her tears and stood up straighter, holding me close. “Well. Of all the babies laying there, only Zed recognized my footsteps and cried.” She stuck her thumb into the red ink dish like the volleyball hit her face years before.

She didn’t budge.

“A baby will always recognize her mother’s footsteps. Now, give me those papers.”

When I imagine how my mother pressed her thumbprint on that “Against Medical Advice” document and the confession paper, I hear the sound of a sharp sword flying back into its scabbard, where it belongs. The battle has been won.

“She is not stupid. And she is mine.” She threw the papers back at the officers, and walked off.

Then the whole neighborhood gossiped about my mother and her stupid child. But the child grew up, anyway.

“She will never understand mathematics.” — these were the words that drove my mother to peddle faster under the sun as she carried me on her bicycle each weekend, taking me to after-school science lessons.

“She will never make it to college.” — these were the words that brought tears to her eyes when I presented her with my acceptance letter to Peking University, China’s very best.

“She will never be able to take care of you.” — these were the words that she forever erased from memory when she saw me walk across the stage in my medical school graduation gown.

Bonus drawing for Ask The Patient by Pan; A scene from Zed’s live storytelling for The Nocturnists.

With each milestone we accomplished, we proved the world wrong. But more importantly, we rewrote the story of our lives — a story told by so many other people but us, before it even began.

From now on, only we get to define who we are.

Over a decade ago, at twenty years of age, I left home to go to school in the United States. With an ocean between us, my mother and I saw each other only once every few years. Two years ago, we finally got to spend Mother’s Day together. And I was determined to spoil her with a surprise dinner and gift.

I told her we needed some green onions and sent her to the grocery store. Acting with fury, I displayed the secretly prepared picnic in the yard and took out the gift — a turquoise-colored crystal necklace. Then I waited by the door.

“Surprise!!” Before she could reach for the doorknob, I opened the door and shouted: “Happy Mother’s Day!!”

“How the heck did you know I was just going to open the door?” She asked.

“Well. I recognized your footsteps.”

My mother’s footsteps sing a song.

And my heart dances to it.

My Thieving Mother and Her Stolen Goods. Photo credit: Megan Bardell

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In November 2023, I went on stage to perform this story live through The Nocturnists podcast and Bellevue Literary Review. And I mean PERFORM! I acted out my mother’s imaginary kung-fu moves and the audience rolled in their seats laughing. 😅 Please enjoy my stand-up comedy debut on The Nocturnists stage🤣:

Left: I am doing a rehearsal round on stage at the Leonard Nimoy Thalia Theatre at Symphony Space in New York; Middle: I am taking a selfie with an ice cream (you will understand why this is funny AFTER listening to the episode); Right: My selfie with Dr. Emily Silverman, creator and host of The Nocturnists Podcast.