By my late teens I’d witnessed many violent arguments between my parents. Years after moving to Canada, my father’s inability to provide for our family financially remained a hotly contentious issue. Whenever they fought I would lock myself in my room, holding on to my little brother tightly and covering his ears. If I was alone, I would drown out the screams and shouts by putting on headphones and listening to soothing music. Philip Glass or Mozart would provide the soundtrack as a war waged outside my door.
