Macmac: Why should we care?
Hitting the headlines outside of his natural environment has actually revealed so much about us as a nation and as an audience. Though some of it is encouraging, much of it is still negative and disappointing. The focus on a broken, weak sports figure has shown us that there are some things we really don’t know how we feel about, and that is telling.
Take the case of Macmac Cardona. He stands accused of beating his lover repeatedly for a prolonged period of time, and from some unconfirmed reports, it was only the intervention of a former coach turned politician that kept the alleged beatings from becoming a matter of public (and criminal) record. The general reaction of the public has been stunned silence. The general reaction of the basketball community has been one of support in light of the subsequent overdose attempt at ending his life. These are laudable, but unfortunately also skip over a big step in the process before any healing can take place.
Firstly, the allegations have been magnified as Cardona is now said to be capable of seriously hurting or even killing someone when enraged. Very little has been heard from the authorities about that, and, in the true spirit of human kindness, his friends, teammates and fellow athletes publicly encourage him to fight on, to put his life back together. Again, that is the decent, human thing to do for someone we care about as a person and not just as a professional athlete. But, as with any addiction, there must first be remorse, a promise to not repeat the action, and atonement in some form. Granted, the accusations are just on this side of being criminal charges, but still, the behavior must be addressed. The deafening silence with which that matter is being faced is an indictment of us all.
In many countries around the world, domestic violence is the most underreported crime. It is a crime of power and shame; power for the one committing the abuse, shame for the victim who feels trapped by the situation. In psychological parlance, it is a form of codependency, and it exists in some degree in every relationship, not just romantic ones. In simplest terms, it is one partner compensating for the repeated fault of the other. At one end, you have friendships wherein one is always late, and the other just tries not to mind it after so long. At the other extreme, you have wifebeaters, who send their spouses to the hospital, all the while with the woman insisting she is loved despite all the evidence to the contrary. It is a failed attempt of two people to control the shortcomings of one. It is containment, not cure. And that doesn’t work.
The habit of hitting a loved one can be corrected, but first, you have to admit that there is a problem. You need the humility and vulnerability to reveal weakness, which is challenging for ordinary people. And it is much more difficult for public figures and those who have accomplished much in life. Sometimes, the spotlight whitewashes blemishes and flaws, and we look the other way and go along for the ride. It is very similar to groups wherein one friend is clearly drinking or smoking or eating himself to death, and nobody intervenes. Someone has to reach out from the anonymity of the crowd, and show compassion for the person trapped in the Godawful habit, whichever it may be. And we all try to look away from the mirror every so often when it crosses our minds. When my friend and colleague Joe Cantada gave himself up to lung cancer, I told myself I was too young, too junior to speak up. It wasn’t my place. I didn’t have the same excuse almost two decades later when another colleague, Butch Maniego, had so abused his body with food that we all watched as it slowly broke down on him. He died just a little older than I am now. For that, I had no excuse. I chose to act helpless, and became complicit. The pain still surfaces every so often.
Casting blame and guilt never accomplishes anything, and it just anchors us in the past. But if we truly are friends and family to Macmac Cardona, his family and other people in similar situations, we will reach out from the background and protect them from themselves. They are in pain, and the inability to communicate it, address it and ask for help in dealing with it, builds up inside until the small, prohibitive relief one gets from lashing out is not enough. It becomes an addiction. And we all know that, in all addictions, what was enough once never is the next time it hits. You always need a bigger release.
Cardona could be anyone of us trapped in a private hell that suddenly became public. We all know how hard it is to ask for help, particularly when the world sees you as invincible. Whenever that happens, though, there is a good reason: it is an opportunity for us to help, not just by embracing him as a fallen hero or his family as victims of alleged violence, but as partners in the healing process. Things are not okay, and we all carry a bit of that weight together. What their family needs now is encouragement with responsibility, support with direction. We have all been in that situation, whether it be mild depression, frustration with work, resentment towards our parents. And we have always appreciated the help of friends. This is no different. It just requires a longer process, and more commitment.
When a friend is hurting, we are all hurting. When he is healed, we are all healed.