My name was originally Temujin, taken after a Tatar chieftain my father captured (I would take on the name Genghis, meaning “universal ruler” after conquering the Khwarezmid Empire). I was nine years old when my father brought me to Borte, my future wife. Our marriage was decided. On our trip back home, my father and I encountered members of the rival Tartar tribe. They offered a grand feast to settle feelings of unrest between our two tribes to which my father accepted.
They poisoned my father for his past transgressions against their tribe (imprisoning the original Temujin was only one of them).
As soon as word of my father’s poisoning reached me, I rejoiced. I held no feelings of resentment towards my father, but I knew his death signified my emergence into power. When my mother gave birth to me, a blood clot was clenched beneath my fist. Everyone witnessing my birth was blessed with the sight of Mongolian folklore materializing into reality. They knew I would be the prophetic leader to bring our clan to greatness. I quickly ran from the Tatar tribe back to my own.
I announced the death of my father and demanded ownership of the clan. I was destined to be clan chief and everyone knew the position belonged to me, yet my request was met with vehement aggression. In fact, the clan which my father built and I was to rule abandoned me and my family. There were many disputes about how our family would survive on our own. I speared my own half-brother, Bekhter, because he challenged my methodologies in hunting. No one should dare challenge my authority. As I planned, spearing Bekher solidified my position as head of my remaining family.
I married Borte at 16, and established a concrete alliance between my own tribe and the Konirat tribe. Shortly after, my wife was kidnapped by the Merkit tribe and gifted to their chieftain. She was inseminated, and after I rescued her, she gave birth to a child which was not mine. Nevertheless, I accepted him.
These events hardened me into the fierce ruler I needed to be. Without having experienced these difficulties, the Mongolian Empire would not have reached such impressive heights.
The age of all the above events happened before I was eighteen, what modern society considers to be juvenile. You can see why I would be so entertained with Podrick’s post about Chipotle’s child labor violations here.
Podrick is clearly upset that people under the age of eighteen are overworked: ”To make them work over 40 hours a week, which chipotle is doing, is deeply saddening.” They say that instead of working long hours, “children [should] enjoy their youth, [by] spending time hanging out with friends and educating themselves.” I am quite entertained with the idea that modern society has such a luxury to voice this type of complaint. While people are upset that juveniles are being “overworked” today, I, as a juvenile in my time, endured my father dying from poison, abandonment from my own clan, killing my half-brother, marriage to my wife, my wife being kidnapped, and the birth of her son which belonged to another chieftain!
Perhaps modern society is bored from the lack of excitement I experienced while feuding with other clans so much so people living in it complain about “problems” because complaining brings them excitement.
Lisa Newkhar 