The painful reality

Posted on November 12, 2009 by jo2wong

Even though I am unlikely to ever be a mother, I feel awful for the author of this article. She is very brave and I thank her for sharing the  reality of her plight.  It is so easy for people to judge and condemn. But do they really know how others suffer?

 

Do I love my disabled daughter? With all my heart. Will it be a relief when she dies? Without question

By Tussie Myerson
Last updated at 8:59 AM on 12th November 2009

 

What happens when doctors break the news that your child is going to die? This was the agonising question faced by the parents of ‘Baby RB’. In disagreement, they went to the High Court over whether his life support should be withdrawn  –  his father eventually conceding they should let their son go. Tussie Myerson, 47, from Worcestershire, experienced similar anguish when doctors said her baby, Emmy, would not survive. Now, 18 years on, Emmy is still alive  –  but what of her quality of life?

Devoted: Tussie Myserson with her daughter Emmy

My eldest daughter, Emmy, was epileptic in the womb. This means that the abnormal foetal movements during the last two months of my pregnancy were actually epileptic seizures.

She had her first seizure outside the womb at three months, followed by many months in hospital, before being discharged into my completely untrained hands.

Now 18, Emmy has what the professionals call PMLD  –  profound and multiple learning difficulties. She is quadriplegic, with cerebral palsy and intractable epilepsy. Basically that means that she’s done for.

She cannot walk, talk, go to the toilet alone, feed herself, and so on. She can communicate in a fashion, by laughing, crying and smiling, but you cannot be sure that it is controlled.

In 1992, when she was ten months old, we were told by the wise and the wonderful at Great Ormond Street that she would die very soon. If she didn’t die very soon she would die a little bit later. If she didn’t die then she would probably be a vegetable for the rest of her ‘short’ life.

There was no counselling or support. We saw a geneticist who told us not to have any more children, and that was it. There was the usual gaggle of meetings with social services, who offered us residential care or, possibly, a bit of respite in the community, but they weren’t sure. Our GP was very kind, but she had never had a case like this before.

For the next 18 months, I had to deal with the complex array of appointments, while having this dreadful thought in the back of my head that my daughter was going to die.

She didn’t. I stopped believing the doctors. I started believing in my daughter. And yet, no one believed in me. There was no joined-up thinking. No early intervention, no support structure. No recognition of what that day at Great Ormond Street had done to us as a couple, or our little family. 

When you give birth to a child whose life is going to be bombarded with medical complexity, you begin a journey that it is impossible to be prepared for.

For the first ten years we simply existed. Every few months, Emmy would have a bout of pneumonia and we would prepare for her possible departure. It was a staggeringly difficult time.

Daily struggle: Tussie and her husband David have opted for Emmy’s care to be palliative

When she was four, we found Helen House Hospice in Oxford, and, thanks to them, many of these interruptions were made more manageable.

We came to understand what ‘ life-limiting’ meant. And how to come to terms with the fact that our gorgeous child was not going to live into adulthood.

We still had little or no support from our local authority. I think we got a respite weekend a month, for a child who could have up to 40 fits a day and was heavily medicated. Plus, I had two more young children. We had a social worker but, to be honest, I can’t remember her. I think I saw her twice a year to review the care package.

We also received little or no support from our families. My parents did a fair amount, when she was well. David’s family live in the U.S., which isn’t really convenient for babysitting.

Coming to terms with the fact that your child is going to die is a journey that is very difficult to explain. It doesn’t really happen overnight . . . well it didn’t for us.

It wasn’t like there was one day when it dawned on us, but repeated events. The pneumonia and recovery, maybe it started to take a little longer. I couldn’t say.

Even when Emmy was eight or nine I think I was still fairly idealistic. I knew she could go, but I hadn’t really got my head round her handicaps. We had, after all, had several near misses already. But she was still such a baby in my eyes.

And the steel cage I had built around myself to protect me from the so-called ‘professionals’ worked very well. Unfortunately, what it also did was block out my husband for a lot of the time.

Her brother and sister were also still very small. As they began to gain some independence, reality began to strike. She was still here. I was still caring. All the time, three hospital appointments a week, often more.

But at no point was there one person who stuck with us, to catch me as I started to fall. Briefly, there was one social worker who went above and beyond in her efforts to help us; but she got disillusioned and left the profession.

Because of the nature of my daughter’s diagnosis, my husband and I decided early in her life that we wished her care to be palliative. To most people this would mean end-of-life hospice care. But, for us, it means whole life care.

This means that her life is about quality now, rather than using medical intervention to keep it going. Therefore, we do not wish her to be tube-fed, to be resuscitated, have intravenous medication other than pain relief, or any other intervention.

Her quality of life is about being able to make the very few decisions she can make herself. This includes eating, which is under her control. And breathing. She decides if she is going to wake up, not me. So far, she has chosen to wake up. 

When we first asked for no intervention  –  when Emmy was nine months old  –  I don’t think we fully understood what we were saying. It was more a reaction to what everyone was doing and taking into account the fact that they kept telling us she was going to die. So if she was, then let her.

But now I do understand. She should never have survived. For whatever reason, she did. That does not make it right to keep that life going ‘just because you can’.

As a society, we don’t seem to want to admit to the hurt of watching our children live half-lives, quarter-lives even. Does Emmy have a quality of life? I don’t know. Do I love her? Absolutely. Will I miss her? With all my heart. When she dies, will it be a relief? Without question.

Gradually you recognise that extending this life isn’t your call. You are simply a manager of a body.

Terrible decision: The mother and father of ‘Baby RB’ went to court as they initially disagreed over whether to let their severely disabled son die

It is down to her if she wants to keep going. My job is to make sure she is comfortable. That she has a reason to smile when she can. That she is loved by her family and, at the end of the day, her family have the energy and capacity to love her.

Society now appears to be about extending life. Ticking medical boxes that enable life to be prolonged without necessarily asking the terribly important question. Who are we doing this for? Because it is not for me, or my family. We have been through quite enough. And I cannot imagine it is for my daughter. What she has had to go through does not bear thinking about.

And why is it still taboo to talk about this issue? Why, with an ageing population, and more babies surviving premature birth and birth trauma, is it still considered politically incorrect to tackle the really important and, let’s face it, unavoidable issue, of who are we maintaining life for?

I can speak only from the experience of my daughter. I do not know what it is like for anyone else. I would never claim to know. But I do feel that it shouldn’t be wrong to say what you really feel.

Why is there nowhere in this country that provides long-term palliative care for young people whose lives are not going to be improved by medical intervention? They are just going to be extended. Extension does not mean made better, it just means made longer.

The decisions that have to be made are complex. But decisions have to be made, and this is clearly where a huge problem exists, because no one wants to make them.

You are held hostage by a social welfare service that is structured not to provide care, but to avoid spending money.

And the sad reality is that children and young people with complex health needs cost money. Families can’t even be paid properly for the care that they provide.

My daughter is now 18. Were she not profoundly disabled, she would be at college or at work.

Were she out of work, she could claim housing benefit. But as a profoundly disabled 18-year-old living in an annexe of her parents’ house, she is not allowed housing benefit because her landlord is her father  –  and God forbid she may be abusing the system.

No one will support her accommodation needs. Why? Well, that is the question they must answer, because we certainly didn’t realise that in her being at home we would be paying for her accommodation and that of her two carers as well.

Maybe I am being petty here, but when my daughter was discharged from Hammersmith Hospital in 1992, no one told me that I would still be fighting 17 years later.

No one told me that my fight would get as ugly as it has done. No one told me that I would be judged by people who have never met her and have refused to meet her.

We, her parents, have had to make decisions that no one else will face. Quality versus quantity of life. Palliative versus intervention. It is just adding insult to injury that my daughter becomes a box-ticking exercise rather than one of decision-making.

I am not alone in my outspokenness on these issues. But maybe, right now, I am just that little bit angrier that it is discretionary, not legal, whether Worcestershire County Council meets her housing needs. Discretion should not come into it.

If we are going to maintain life then we have to treat those who are managing those lives with respect. That includes the carers, the families and the individuals themselves.

We don’t do that. Our local authority has spent more avoiding their responsibilities than meeting them. And that is wrong.

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Rambling sorrow

Posted on September 23, 2009 by jo2wong
It’s been a while since I last wrote here.  Part of me wonders how much to share on a platform like this when one has no idea who may or may not read this and the possible repecussions of that.  Maybe I should start another blog.  I am sick of censoring myself or thinking about what others’d think of me.  Isn’t a blog meant to be a place I say stuff I want? 

There are times when I’ve felt like writing, then I kind of stop myself, thinking that I should not because I’d be revealing too much about myself and opening myself up to scrutiny and judgement. But  why should I be afraid? 

I go out of my way not to defame, name people or publish their visage
on here.   This blog simply serves as a means for me to get things off
my chest when I feel like saying something or the other.  I don’t
particularly care if  no one reads  it or comprehends exactly what I am trying to say. 

I apologise for the pessimism and convoluted mess (i.e. this post) tonight. Something has really been bugging me for the past few weeks.  Ultimately,  it  has left me to conclude that sometimes people who are really intellectual and ‘wise’ will never find peace or acceptance in body or  mind  because they live in a complicated  world of lies, charades and shadows.  The most tragic part of the equation is the agonising pain, devastation and sorrow they bring upon all whom they come across.  Perhaps I will never trust ever again.

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Women have choices

Posted on April 5, 2009 by jo2wong
I’ve been reading Miss Lee Wei Ling’s column with great interest over the last few months.  Intitally, I was curious about her articles because I was aware of her parentage.  But I have come to admire her level-minded thinking as well as her candour.  Here’s a very big Thank you to Miss Lee for sharing her insights on our national newspaper! It takes one brave woman who’d choose to weather public opinion by sharing such personal information with all and sundry, especially when she is Lee Kuan Yew’s daughter!
 
Having said that, I read this story with keen interest as this is a topic which does occasionally linger in my mind.
 
In as much as I want a relationship, I am not sure if I am someone who is destined to be so ‘normal’.  Having seen the unhappiness and unequalness in the marriage of my parents, it would probably amaze no one that I do not regard marriage as the sacred cow that promises the fairy tale-like happily-ever-afters.
 
Having said that, I’d love to have an intimate relationship with someone I can love, adore and trust completely.  When I look back at my past love life, I do not regret ending those relationships but I do confess that I miss the intimacy of being close with someone.  Ironically enough, on a deeper level, I have always wondered if I have intimacy issues in that I do not know how to be truly close to another being.
 
About two weeks ago, I met the mother of one of my China colleagues and we had a chat. In this case, I am using the word ‘chat’ very loosely because when I am in China, people tend to have more one-sided conversations where they bombard the other party (namely me) with endless barrage, often posing way too many overly personal questions, trying to elicit way too much private information.  Anyway, on this occasion, she asked me how old I was.  After hearing my answer, she asked me whether I was married. When I said no, she then asked me whether I had a boyfriend. Rather peeved by this stage but trying to remain civil, I said I don’t at this time but that I used to have one.
 
This woman then went on to insist that I HAD to get married. Absolutely affronted and indignant by her attitude, I kept my cool but firmly stated that I would only marry when and if a suitable candidate came along as I do not believe in treating marriage like a game, particularly because I truly do not ever want to end up having to divorce my life partner.  I also clearly stated to her that one cannot force love. Any idiot should know that.
 
Instead of allowing me to change the topic, this woman still insisted that a woman simply had to be married.  I then told her that women these days do not have to be married.  I later left the scene with a bad taste in my mouth, full of pity for my fellow teacher who is female and younger than me. I bet her mother will always be on her case to find a suitable mate for marriage.
 
So, what am I going to do? Pine and sulk that I do not have someone to spend my days with, to care for me, for me to hold in my arms when the nights are long?
 
That’s hardly a happy way to live, is it?!?!?!?!
 
As more of my friends from high school or tertiary institutions get engaged, married or even have kids, I confess that, at some level, I am envious of them. But I have come to recognise that my life is not meant to be straight-forward and dare I say, simple/traditional. 
 
Besides, I know that I have far more important things to do right now.  I need to figure out what I want to do with my life and get on with it. If I do meet someone suitable later on, perhaps something can come out of it. But now, first things first. 
 
Even though I am a woman, I do not have to be married to have worth.  It’s my life. 
 
So go make someone else miserable, you stupid old cow (my apologies to any cows who may be offended by my choice of words, I was only referring to the human variety)!
 
 
Why I choose to remain single
My parents have a loving relationship, but I knew I could not live my life around a husband

By Lee Wei Ling

 

 

My father became prime minister in 1959, when I was just four years old. Inevitably, most people know me as Lee Kuan Yew’s daughter.

My every move, every word, is scrutinised and sometimes subject to criticism. One friend said I lived in a glass house. After my father’s recent comment on my lack of culinary skills, another observed: ‘You live in a house without any walls.’ Fortunately, I am not easily embarrassed.

As long as my conscience is clear, what other people say of me does not bother me. Indeed, I am open about my life since the more I try to conceal from the public, the wilder the speculation becomes.

My father said of my mother two weeks ago: ‘My wife was…not a traditional wife. She was educated, a professional woman… We had Ah Mahs, reliable, professional, dependable. (My wife) came back every lunchtime to have lunch with the children.’

Actually, my mother was a traditional wife and mother. She was not traditional only in one respect: She was also a professional woman and, for many years, the family’s main breadwinner.

One of my mother’s proudest possessions is a gold pendant that my father commissioned for her. He had a calligrapher engrave on the pendant the following characters: ‘xian qi liang mu’ and ‘nei xian wai de’.

The first four characters mean virtuous wife and caring mother. The second four mean wise in looking after the family, virtuous in behaviour towards the outside world.

My mother lived her life around my father and, while we were young, around her children. I remember my mother protesting gently once about something my father had asked her to do.

‘It is a partnership, dear,’ my father urged.

‘But it is not an equal partnership,’ my mother replied.

The partnership may not have been exactly equal at particular points in time. But over the years, especially after my mother’s health deteriorated after she suffered a stroke, my father was the one who took care of her. She clearly indicated she preferred my father’s care to that of the doctors’, in itself a revelation of the quality of his care.

He remembers her complicated regime of medications. Because she cannot see on the left side of her visual field, he sits on her left during meals. He prompts her to eat the food on the left side of her plate and picks up whatever food her left hand drops on the table.

I have always admired my father for his dedication to Singapore, his determination to do what is right, his courage in standing up to foreigners who try to tell us how to run our country.

But my father was also the eldest son in a typical Peranakan family. He cannot even crack a soft-boiled egg – such things not being expected of men, especially eldest sons, in Peranakan families.

But when my mother’s health deteriorated, he readily adjusted his lifestyle to accommodate her, took care of her medications and lived his life around her. I knew how much effort it took him to do all this, and I was surprised that he was able to make the effort.

If my parents have such a loving relationship, why then did I decide to remain single?

Firstly, my mother set the bar too high for me. I could not envisage being the kind of wife and mother she had been.

Secondly, I am temperamentally similar to my father. Indeed, he once said to me: ‘You have all my traits – but to such an exaggerated degree that they become a disadvantage in you.’

When my father made that pendant for my mother, he also commissioned one for me. But the words he chose for me were very different from those he chose for my mother.

On one side of my pendant was engraved ‘yang jing xu rui’, which means to conserve energy and build up strength. On the other side was engraved ‘chu lei ba cui’, which means to stand out and excel.

The latter was added just for completion. His main message was in the first phrase, telling me, in effect, not to be so intense about so many things in life.

I knew I could not live my life around a husband; nor would I want a husband to live his life around me. Of course, there are any number of variations in marital relationships between those extremes. But there is always a need for spouses to change their behaviour or habits to suit each other. I have always been set in my ways and did not fancy changing my behaviour or lifestyle.

I had my first date when I was 21 years old. He was a doctor in the hospital ward I was posted to. We went out to a dinner party. I noted that the other guests were all rich socialites. I dropped him like a hot potato.

In 2005, while on an African safari with a small group of friends, one of them, Professor C.N. Lee, listed the men who had tried to woo me. There were three besides the first. Two were converted into friends and another, like the first, was dropped.

I am now 54 years old and happily single. In addition to my nuclear family, I have a close circle of friends. Most of my friends are men. But my reputation is such that their female partners would never consider me a threat.

More than 10 years ago, when there was still a slim chance I might have got married, my father told me: ‘Your mother and I could be selfish and feel happy that you remain single and can look after us in our old age. But you will be lonely.’

I was not convinced. Better one person feeling lonely than two people miserable because they cannot adapt to each other, I figured.

I do not regret my choice. But I want to end with a warning to young men and women: What works for me may not work for others.

Many years ago, a young single woman asked me about training in neurology in a top US hospital. I advised her to ‘grab the opportunity’.

She did and stayed away for eight years. She returned to Singapore in her late 30s and now worries that she may have missed her chance to get married.

Fertility in women drops dramatically with age, and older mothers run the risk of having offspring with congenital abnormalities.

Recent studies show also that advanced paternal age is associated with an increased risk of neurodevelopmental disorders in offspring, such as autism and schizophrenia, not to mention dyslexia and a subtle reduction in intelligence. Men can also suffer from diminished fertility with age although there is wide individual variation.

I would advise young men and women not to delay getting married and having children. I say this not to be politically correct. I say it in all sincerity because I have enjoyed a happy family life as a daughter and a sister, and I see both my brothers enjoying their own families.

The writer is director of the National Neuroscience Institute.

 
 
 
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Seeking for attention?

Posted on April 5, 2009 by jo2wong

I used to know someone who’d regularly get himself into a drunken and/or drug induced stupor during which he either self-harmed or attempted suicide. 

On one occasion, interpol was contacted by an online acquaintance based in a faraway land and the police managed to locate, break into the house and take this person to hospital. 

Another such incident came about years later when a friend in another state had to call the police to once again come to the aid of this person who’d chosen to self-harm again.

So when I came upon this news story on the Daily Mail, I found myself thinking: "So what’s new?" 

Interestingly, this person always got rather miffed when mental health professionals concluded that his behaviour was just a way to seek attention, perhaps feeling rather patronised and misunderstood.

My personal view?  I suspect that at a deeper, more subconscious level, it is fundamentally attention seeking.  It’s like saying: "look at me, I am so miserable and depressed that I just have to self-harm/kill myself".

My logic? Well, if this person had been serious about achieving ‘nirvana’ or ‘permanent non-existence’ (yes, this person had a self-professed existential crisis), he’d be trying to ‘off’ himself while completely cut off from the world (ie. away from all forms of communication), so that NO ONE can hinder his grand plans.  It seems rather self-defeating to keep being ‘saved/rescued’ when you just want to die once and for all right? 

Anyway, who knows for sure!!!!!!!! This is just my little bit of armchair psychology…

C’est La Vie to you, wherever you are…

 

Facebook friend saves life of suicidal teenager from the other side of the Atlantic

By Mail On Sunday Reporter
Last updated at 1:36 AM on 05th April 2009

 

A schoolboy who announced his imminent suicide on Facebook was saved when a friend across the Atlantic in America read his threat and raised the alarm.

The 16-year-old, from Oxford, sent a late-night message on the social networking website to a girl sitting 3,400 miles away at her computer in Maryland.

The teenager had been speculating about taking his life and shortly before 11.30pm on Wednesday wrote: ‘I’m going away to do something I’ve been thinking about for a while then everyone will find out.’

Social networking: The Facebook website is credited with saving the boy’s life

Although the girl is thought to have exchanged messages with the boy over the internet before, she didn’t know his address.

She told her parents, who contacted the British Embassy in Washington DC, which tipped off Scotland Yard.

Told that the boy went to a school in Oxfordshire, the Yard alerted Thames Valley Police at 12.25am on Thursday.

Staff at the force’s control centre in Abingdon had just a name to go on but narrowed the search to eight addresses in the county.

Officers were dispatched to each location and three hours after the boy had filed his Facebook message, he was found at home – alive but suffering the effects of a drug overdose.

 

The teenager, who has not been named, was conscious and taken by ambulance to the John Radcliffe Hospital in Oxford.

He has since been released and is recovering at home. His family are said to be ‘distraught’.

Thames Valley Chief Superintendent Brendan O’Dowda praised the tenacity of those involved on both sides of the Atlantic. ‘It took up time and effort but it was time and effort absolutely well spent,’ he said.

 

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A pensive pre-dawn moment

Posted on April 1, 2009 by jo2wong
The main thing I learnt from my sojourn northwards is that there is nowhere like home.  I’ve felt for a long time that Singaporeans like to complain too much about their own country, almost as if they possess some kind of pseudo-inferiority complex about our little island nation, when in fact, we have a lot to be grateful for! The peace, security, clean environment, and low crime rate are the few things that I can rattle off the top of my head.

But honestly, it takes being in a workplace that does not value systematic planning, transparency, accountability, routine maintenance and basic human decency to bring those feelings to the surface.  I had noble intentions when I arrived.  I wanted to succeed (for once), I wanted to adapt to local conditions, but most of my efforts were in vain.  

I am truly grateful that the little tykes came to adore me and that will always be the fondest memory of the time spent there.  I sincerely hope that they have good memories of me and that they do not harbour the illusion that I left because I did not like them.  In fact, I’ve never been very comfortable around young children, having not been around them a lot as I was growing up. However, these kids really broke through my ‘walls’ as they showered me with their warmth, love, exuberance and charming innocence.

There are also people in the rural city that I will not forget and I hope to be able to travel there again one day to see them.  

Did I learn anything from this trip?

Yes. I am grateful that my grandparents managed to leave China to provide me (a.k.a. their descendants) with a better life elsewhere with more opportunities and exposure to the outside world.  I have been to so many countries and seen so much of the world because of the accomplishments of my forebears who struggled very hard to give us a safe, organised and comfortable life.   

Don’t get me wrong though.  I have nothing against small towns in and of itself.  I just do not like the insular, petty, condescending, extremely nosy, impolite/uncivilised/unsanitary and small-minded people that I come across and by that, I am mostly to some of the people I come across on a day-to-day basis as well as the management of the school I was working in.  I do not like feeling unsafe and/or being a victim of street crime. For instance, within a space of one week, I had my cheap RMB35 handbag slashed (although nothing was stolen at the time) and my China wallet was stolen from my handbag while I was eating in a small eatery with two people directly sitting opposite facing me and the lady boss sitting about a metre to my left, also facing me. It’s pretty disconcerting, to say the least! Thank goodness I only lost my ‘decoy’ wallet a.k.a. the wallet that I use when out and about in China. My important documents and other cash are all stashed at home in a ‘secret compartment’!

It is also not safe for a woman to be walking alone there on the streets at night, especially along the more secluded streets from the city to the school.  

But, yes, I am glad that I can make the choice to leave, as compared to the locals who are ‘stuck’ there. Most of them think that Singapore is a good place which has, among other things, cleaner public toilets than some of the toilets in people’s homes.

Inasmuch as I do not want to leave my adorable little babies, I do believe that one has to weigh up the pros and cons of any situation before making a rational choice to cuts one’s losses when necessary.  I do not believe that this place is worth the emotional stress, lack of cosmopolitan pursuits and quite importantly, the poor work conditions/benefits as well as the extremely low wage (especially when it is often delayed as well as docked at the whim of the school management).  

After all that is said and done, I just want to go home to be able to feel safe and not have to be on my guard all the time.

Life is too short to waste time pursuing worthless opportunities.

Time to move on. Upward and Onward.  Just as long as I do not crash and burn mentally first!

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Advocating Devolution?

Posted on March 30, 2009 by jo2wong
Sometimes I really wonder why some people have to be so complicated.  I like to be straight-forward in my dealings with people. I don’t want to be on my guard all the time and watch what I say just to avoid stepping on people’s toes left, right and centre. 

Yes, I know that we are all different (nature vs. nurture and all that *stuff*) and that influences the way the way that we do things.

But it is really frustrating and cumbersome to live like this.  Yes, ‘no (wo)man is an island’, and I don’t really want to become a HERmit, but seriously, sometimes it is easier to be solitary and not worry about being caught up in the mundane pettiness of day to day life. 

Maybe that is the good thing about not being too connected to any particular country or community.

Perhaps you, dear reader, can now understand why I relate so much better with animals in general.

At the very least, there is no bullshit. What you see is what you get. Sometimes, having more developed grey matter can be more a hindrance! 

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My stand on Language..

Posted on March 8, 2009 by jo2wong

Even though I personally have had a lot of difficulty learning mandarin all my life, I have to agree that Mandarin is the Chinese language to learn. In that sense, at least so many hours of my life devoted to worshipping at the altar of Mandarin ‘God’ was not in vain. Even though I say this rather emphatically, I do feel more than a twinge of loss for not being fluent in any dialect. I avoid speaking Hokkien because the way I speak it sounds really awful (to me) and I simply lack the vocabulary.

 

While I have reasonable listening comprehension of Hokkien and Teochew, I practically cannot understand any Hainanese and most Cantonese (other than the names of my absolute favourite HK dimsum dishes and some insignificant day-to-day dialogue).  It pains me to admit that I cannot understand ANY spoken Hainanese because my father is of Hainanese heritage. Being the absent father that he was(and will always be), we never had the chance to learn Hainanese because it was never ever used in our home.

 

Imagine the pain and discomfort I had in my paternal grandmother’s final years.  I hardly had anything to do with her while growing up because her husband was such a dominant personality and he could speak English and Mandarin.  He even did all the cooking and I still remember all the lovely things that he cooked for our Sunday night dinners at his house. After he died when I was 12, I had nothing to do with his wife other than seeing her during our very infrequent festivals (CNY, Christmas, Mooncake Festival). As her health failed, she became increasingly senile. When I saw her at family gatherings, she spoke to me in Hainanese and I could not understand a word and I felt truly ashamed about that.  That I needed an interpreter (usually any relative who happened to be closest by) to be able to speak to my own grandmother.

 

Much as I agree that the language policy which Singapore has decided to implement is like having to choose between the devil and the deep blue sea, I still wish I could at least understand what my own grandmother was saying to me even if someone had to translate my reply to her.  I can only hope that she forgives me for my failings as a granddaughter.

 

Since arriving in this rural Chinese city, I have discovered that it is more important (and useful) to know Mandarin than their local dialect. Mot of the middle-aged and uneducated/under-educated (as in those who have to drop out school at an early age for various reasons) cannot speak anything except their local dialect.  Most locals I met know instantly from my Mandarin diction that I am not a local Chinese (as in local to this city). Sometimes when I am dealing with local sales-people or workmen, I have trouble understanding what they are saying (especially those who have a really strong local dialect accent or when they speak the local dialect really fast), so I ask them to speak to me in Mandarin.  It baffles me that sometimes the reply is that “they do not know how to speak Mandarin”!! I mean they are local-born MAINLAND CHINESE for Christ’s sake!!!  Sometimes the real reason is that they are shy about using Mandarin because they do not speak it well because they hardly use it in their daily lives. 

 

Much as I totally and utterly resented having to learn Mandarin (as a second language) as I was growing up, at least, throughout my years of touring the various parts of China, I am generally understood by the locals.  In fact, it never fails to amuse me when they compliment me on my supposed ‘mastery’ of Mandarin (and yes, I’ve had this particular praise fairly regularly).  Anyone who went to school or Uni with me will probably be baffled by ANYONE actually thinking that I’m good at Mandarin.  Well, I suppose I am fairly adaptable when it comes to spoken language (at least the ones that I am good at) and possess reasonably good diction.  I also have the seemingly automatic and baffling ability to adapt the way I speak a certain language according to the nationality or accent of the person I am speaking to.  It’s hard to quantify this ability in writing but it does exist. What can I say? I am a bloody walking miracle!! lol…

 

Lastly, I’d like to reiterate my long time stand on a pet issue of mine: Singlish.  I totally and completely love Singlish. I think it’s cute and such a brand/identity of Singaporeans.  It is a quasi-language which warms my heart and makes me long for home when I hear it when I am overseas.  While I completely agree that we should all speak proper grammatical English, I think the crucial point is that one has to learn how to TURN off the Singlish accent and use proper English when necessary.  After all, what is the point of learning a spoken language if one does not wish to be understood by the other party when pontificating???  When I was in Uni and hanging out with my Aussie buddies, someone’d call from Singapore and I’d naturally speak Singlish to them.  After I end the call, my ang moh friends will ask me: what language were you speaking just now while you were on the phone???  =D 

 

So anyway, it’s past 3am.. Enough lecturing on my part.. Take care wherever you are…

 

 

Foolish to advocate the learning of dialects

Chee Hong Tat
Principal Private Secretary
to the Minister Mentor

I REFER to yesterday’s article by Ms Jalelah Abu Baker (‘One generation – that’s all it takes ‘for a language to die”). It mentioned a quote from Dr Ng Bee Chin, acting head of Nanyang Technological University’s (NTU) Division of Linguistics and Multilingual Studies: ‘Although Singaporeans are still multilingual, 40 years ago, we were even more multilingual. Young children are not speaking some of these languages at all any more.’

To keep a language alive, it has to be used regularly. Using one language more frequently means less time for other languages. Hence, the more languages a person learns, the greater the difficulties of retaining them at a high level of fluency.

There are linguistically gifted individuals who can handle multiple languages, but Singapore’s experience over 50 years of implementing the bilingual education policy has shown that most people find it extremely difficult to cope with two languages when they are as diverse as English and Mandarin.

This is why we have discouraged the use of dialects. It interferes with the learning of Mandarin and English. Singaporeans have to master English. It is our common working language and the language which connects us with the world.

We also emphasised the learning of Mandarin, to make it the mother tongue for all Chinese Singaporeans, regardless of their dialect groups. This is the common language of the 1.3 billion people in China. To engage China, overseas Chinese and foreigners are learning Mandarin and not the dialects of the different Chinese provinces.

We have achieved progress with our bilingual education in the past few decades. Many Singaporeans are now fluent in both English and Mandarin. It would be stupid for any Singapore agency or NTU to advocate the learning of dialects, which must be at the expense of English and Mandarin.

That was the reason the Government stopped all dialect programmes on radio and television after 1979. Not to give conflicting signals, then Prime Minister Lee Kuan Yew also stopped making speeches in Hokkien, which he had become fluent in after frequent use since 1961.

Chee Hong Tat
Principal Private Secretary
to the Minister Mentor

Posted in Travel | Leave a comment

~ 25 facts about me ~

Posted on February 21, 2009 by jo2wong

This was written and posted on Facebook about 10 days ago. I figured that I’d also post it on my blog especially since I’d taken so much time and effort to compose it! Haha! Enjoy!

The following facts are Copyrighted by Mei Wong. So HANDS OFF, Augustine Chan!!!

1) Although others generally have the firm impression that I am an extrovert, I am really more of an introvert. I can be very reserved when I first meet people.

2) In spite of my age, I am rather clueless about intimate relationships and am generally quite hopeless at reading the subtle signs when someone is attracted to me.

3) I endeavour to be as honest and straight forward when I deal with others. I hate dealing with people who play games or enjoy ego trips. I find that very tedious and uncomfortable. Sometimes my candour rubs people the wrong way, particularly when they don’t take the time to get to know me and prefer to judge me prematurely. In a world of people who enjoy beating around the bush, I think we should all go back to basics and interact with people sincerely and directly. It’d save so much time and energy!

4) I do enjoy being irreverent and sometimes (perversely) enjoy it when people are a little disconcerted by it!

5) I am generally very generous with people I consider to be friends. I have realised over the year that some people will take advantage of that but I believe in giving freely to my friends without expecting anything in return. As the saying goes: “the joy is in the giving”.

6) I do not believe in buying expensive brand names. I do not think the quality of materials or design quality automatically justify the hefty price tag. After all, why should I help the head honchos of luxury brands purchase a Gulf stream jet? Besides, why follow fashion trends and look like everyone else? What I buy has to transcend the frivolity of so-called whimsical ‘seasonal’ fashion trends and only buy things that suit me. My preferred ‘look’ is classic and smart casual.

7) I believe in speaking up and fighting the good fight when absolutely necessary. For instance, I think that it is essential to stand up for consumer rights (e.g. when strong-arm hard selling tactics are used to pressure me to buy something or when buses consistently run late), so that others do not have to go through the same bullshit. Some people just think that I am unnecessarily contentious when I choose to lodge a complaint but they fail to realise that any changes instituted thereafter generally do not benefit me personally (if I am pissed enough to make a complaint, I’d avoid the joint/service provider as much as possible in the future). The ironic part?Ｉam actually more of an advocate for peace and dislike conflict!

8) Nothing comes between me and my dogs. I love them and they are my everything. Speaking of animals, while I’ve always been a dog person, I have also come to enjoy the company of cats in recent years. I also love lions, tigers, leopards, dolphins, polar bears, koalas, emperor penguins, elephants, and would love to take them home with me!!! =D They’re just so magnificent!

9) I severely dislike alcohol (oh the fumes), cigarette smoke, celery, capsicum, animal innards, and ‘harvesting’ crab meat when eating a crab dish.

10) I am the youngest child of three but, for all intents and purposes, I am an only child.

11) I have (and will probably always will) a difficult and uneasy relationship with my birth mother.

12) I love going for facials and massages. I sometimes even go weekly.

13) I adore cold weather and positively liquefy in the heat. My mother has always rather sardonically told me (while I was growing up) that I should marry someone in Alaska!

14) Singapore is my home country and I love it. No matter what anyone says about it, it will always be where my heart is.

15) I treasure loyalty and sincerity above all else. You know what they say about dogs and loyalty. In case you didn’t know, I am also born in the year of the dog.

16) I am a real-life vampire. I love the night-time and think that any hour before noon is unearthly. I just really enjoy the serenity that night brings and it is the time of the day when I am most productive.

17) I am a walking contradiction in many ways. For instance, I can be sensitive, inclusive and unconditionally caring to my friends, but I can also be arrogant/snotty, demanding and brusque.

18) Tarot card reading, astrological signs, and numerology intrigue me greatly. I do take all ‘interpretations’ from the above sources with a pinch of salt.

19) “Hi, my name is Mei and I am a closet romantic". Yes, I believe in love. But the pragmatist in me tells me that maybe true love is for everyone out there except me. Whatever it is, I still have to take things as it comes and not let my ‘singlehood’ get to me.

20) I hate to sound like a twit but in light of recent global events (e.g. Mumbai attacks, Bangkok fires, Gaza unrest), I have to say that I do truly and sincerely wish for… … … *drum roll*… … … WORLD PEACE!!!!

21) The only exercise that I truly enjoy is shopping. =D

22) I am allergic to alcohol and also cannot tolerate cigarette smoke. Having said that, I do respect others’ right to choose their poison (because we all have our vices), but I just ask that they be considerate.

23) I adore attending the European opera. Chinese ones are just too screechy (voice wise) and have way too many clanging cymbals and walking around in circles…

24) I love having blood red nails. I also bathe and wash my hair daily and cannot understand people who don’t!

 

25) I actually wrote some poetry in both English and Mandarin in 2008!

Thank you for taking the time to read my list… I hope you enjoyed your journey through the land of Mei!!!!
=D

 

Posted in Uncategorized | 3 Comments

Sitting on my fence..

Posted on February 17, 2009 by jo2wong

I’ve been reading archived stories by Sumiko Tan when I came across this particular column about gays. While I can be conservative (even prudish) about discussing sex topics at times (especially in public) but I try to stop myself from being judgemental as much as I can. Like when people around me enjoy speculating about the sexuality of acquaintances, celebrities, politicians or friends (especially when their body language are sometimes effeminate), I’m always uncomfortable because I think that it is none of my business and that I, of all people, have no right to judge or label others, especially because I personally dislike being labelled and judged myself.

Judging a situation or person is a very common practice because our instincts or past experiences help to point out if we need to flee from danger or how much we can trust a new friend/acquaintance. However, the truth is, I’ve always resented being given labels and in a sense, being prematurely judged by others. However, I acknowledge that most of us are probably guilty of labelling or stereotyping others because it is an ingrained (almost automatic) behaviour that we have been conditioned to do. 

Hence, I think that we have to actively combat some of the stereotypes and prejudices that we have because sometimes these can be rather unfair and even racist.  For instance, when people make simplistic and general statements stating that people from XX country are all thieves and uncivilised. Or when we say that people from a certain ethnicity are lazy when it’s simply because they hold different cultural values or work ethics to our own.

My biggest peeve is when people instantly judge/label me for being plus-sized (and yes, I resent the word F-A-Tor worse, morbidly obese! yikes!). First of all, how is my weight or appearance anyone else’s business? I also do not like when they assume that I am plus-sized because I am lazy and greedy. Yes, I am big and tall. Now get over it. And for f***’s sake, stop staring at me and/or blatantly giving me the once-over (i.e. looking at me from head to toe and then back to my head again). I am not a walking freak show!  It’s so disconcerting when I walk on the streets here in the mainland and people (young, old, teen-aged, middle-aged) keep staring like I am an animal in a zoo. WTF!! sigh…

But I digress. Ultimately, I try to advocate a simple principle: if I want others to accept me for who I am (proverbial warts and all), then I should accept them for what they are, be it political leanings, physical traits, personal wealth, job rank, personal opinions, sexual orientation, taste in clothes/hairstyle, eating habits, allergies, whatever.

Life, after all, should be about mutual respect and being able to agree to disagree. Isn’t that what civil society should be about?  At then end of the day, don’t we all bleed fresh red blood when we are cut, cry tears when we are sad/hurt, and need to visit the lavatory several times a day (yes, I especially dislike that part about being human).

Now let’s get back to what I was talking about earlier, I do have friends who are gay. Some openly and matter-of-factly refer to their boyfriends and live life to the fullest. Others choose to be more circumspect about their private lives, partly because of the kind of ‘attitude’ that they still get from certain segments of society (I shall not name and shame for you should know who you are) about their sexual orientation. 

What on earth makes homosexuality deviant anyways? Because the bible says so?? I’m not sorry to say that that argument does not cut it with me at all. Blasphemous as that sounds, I have yet to see evidence that proves that God wrote/created the bible. As far as I am concerned, MANKIND invented religions and therefore, I do not give most of its teaching on ‘moral values’ much weight. Don’t get me started on how outdated I think some of those teachings are.  Whilst I respect everyone’s right to have a faith, I sincerely hope that they don’t blindly follow ‘doctrines’ like sheep.  After all, what are our brains for? Decoration?

When I was younger, I used to rationalise thus- A penis was designed to ‘go’ into a vagina. Therefore, I figured, that must be the way that nature intended, i.e. heterosexuality and male-female sexual coupling is the ‘right’ way. Now that I am more mature (I say that with a straight face), I have come to the conclusion that it is not my place to dictate someone else’s life or their choices. Just like I’d enjoy the freedom to make the choices that I want in life, I must respect others’ right to do the same. 

Whatever their choices, I sincerely laud gays or lesbians who dare come out of the closet and live their lives as normally as they can.  I am sure that this is not an easy or flippant choice for homosexuals to make. Most have probably gone through years of painful, at times soul-destroying inner struggle trying to determine what their sexual orientation really is (i.e. trying to date or marry a member of the opposite sex because that is the ‘normal’ thing to do).  Ultimately, if the opposite sex simply doesn’t light their fire, what can they do? After all, it’s not like they chose their sexual orientation on purpose in order to spite society!!!

So, here’s a shout out to my homosexual, heterosexual and, not forgetting, friends who swing both ways, I love you all for what you are.  =D 

 

 

(p/s: Religious fanatics who are offended by what you’ve just read, please email ireallydontgiveashit@123mail.com!)

 

 

 

The gay debate

For moderates like me, the vitriolic exchanges made me wonder: Why can’t we just live and let live?

Sumiko Tan

I DON’T think I was fully aware of what homosexuality was all about until I was in my 20s.

It wasn’t a subject that ever cropped up at home. In the late 1970s when I was growing up, a cluster of houses was built in my neighbourhood and a sign on the wall outside read ‘Gay Garden’. No one in the vicinity batted an eyelid.

Perhaps the contractor’s surname was Gay, hence he named the development after himself. Or he just wanted a happy, alliterative name for the place.

In my all-girls secondary school, there were jokes about how boys from a certain all-boys Catholic school tended to be sissies. The word used was ‘pondan’, but I didn’t understand what it meant. But I’d laugh if someone mimicked the boys by showing a limp wrist.

There were a lot of female crushes going around in my school, though. I had my fair share of them and was also the subject of a couple. Little presents, precious autograph book scribblings and happy sightings of the girls we hero-worshipped were all part of growing up.

In junior college, I studied next to boys for the first time. It did occur to me that there were some who were rather effeminate and not all that interested in us girls. Many were involved in drama activities.

There were also a few girls who gave off boisterous, boyish vibes and whom I found frightening, but my attention was trained elsewhere – on the football and swimming jocks.

When I was in university, I went out with a guy who had a ‘gay’ brother. That was when the other meaning of the word entered my vocabulary (and I started wondering how my neighbours living in Gay Garden felt).

The brother was good-looking, wore nice clothes and was a bit aloof. He didn’t have girlfriends but a male friend of his would sometimes go over to the family home for dinner and they appeared close. I started piecing things together.

My friend’s parents must have been in their 60s then but they seemed totally cool with that relationship. I took my cue from them.

Then I started work and learnt more about homosexuality.

The creative industries tend to attract gays and the media is no different. I’ve came to know many gays through work, especially over the last decade as I’ve been based in a section that deals with such lifestyle topics as the arts, entertainment and fashion. There is a larger proportion of gays in these areas.

Some have become good friends. At the risk of generalising or sounding patronising, gays make good company for women.

They often have discerning taste, interesting views and a zest for life. You also don’t have to deal with the tiresome cross signals that can crop up in a man-woman relationship.

Some gays talk freely about their sexual orientation, others don’t. Some keep it a secret but I know they are gay and they know I know, but we don’t acknowledge it, and that’s fine.

Some like to play up to stereotypes (adopting a campy tone for laughs, for example) while others would never dream of doing so.

The upshot is, homosexuality has become so commonplace for me, because of the environment I am in, that it has become a non-issue.

I know it exists and I accept it. I don’t subscribe to it and I never ever will, but it is not a big deal for me. Certainly I don’t feel I am in a position to judge the way they live their lives.

As a (straight) friend puts it and I agree, everyone is entitled to his individual space, and if that space doesn’t encroach on somebody else’s, especially in a harmful way, there is no reason to interfere with it.

BUT I am also acutely aware that not everyone is as relaxed as I am about homosexuality.

For the majority of Singaporeans, including my family and almost all my non-office friends, being gay is just not something on their radar screens, and they frown on it.

Statistics bear this out. A survey found that 69 per cent of Singaporeans have a negative view of homosexuality, 23 per cent are positive and 8 per cent neutral.

When confronted with the topic, the majority feel very uncomfortable, and I have learnt when to keep my mouth shut about it. Even my sister is leery of the topic.

In editing the Life! section of The Straits Times, too, I am aware that the majority of our readers disapprove of homosexuality, which is why we don’t ever play it up.

As the recent parliamentary debate on Section 377A of the Penal Code showed, some people will use every moral and intellectual argument they can muster to put forward their case against homosexuality.

The result has been much mudslinging between them and the pro-gay camp, much of it played out on the Internet. It was fascinating to see how the debate raged and how arguments were posited with renewed vigour every day.

But it was also disturbing and sad for me because so much of what was said – from both sides – seemed grounded in anger and hate.

Still, one has to remember that these are views from very articulate polarised camps. What of the middle ground? Do they feel so strongly? Do they even care?

My guess is that while the majority of Singaporeans are anti-gay, they aren’t into gay-bashing either, and were probably bewildered by the extremes of emotions displayed.

My mother, for example, disapproves of homosexuality but her view is that ‘it’s none of my business what others do’.

For folks like her, what she doesn’t see, she doesn’t know and doesn’t care about, and she adopts a ‘live and let live’ attitude.

That is also a view I subscribe to, although I must also say I had no problems with Parliament choosing not to repeal Section 377A, which makes sex between men a crime.

If Singapore isn’t ready to accept homosexuality, perhaps no change is required – at least not yet.

SOME good has come out of the vitriolic debate. Views have been aired and even if you don’t agree with the other person, at least you now know where he is coming from.

A gay colleague said he was comforted to learn that not all Christians are into gay bashing, and that it would be wrong for him to tar all of them with the same brush.

For me as a journalist, the biggest gain has been how some of Singapore’s ‘OB markers’ have been redefined.

One year ago, I would not have dared write a column about homosexuality. But now that the issue has been aired so thoroughly, and in no less a forum than Parliament, the subject is no longer inside the closet, so to speak.

And it can’t be bad for the country that we are freer to talk about once taboo topics.

You can never persuade those of extreme views to agree and as we go forward, it is perhaps up to the middle ground – which includes newspapers and, yes, people like me whom I like to think are the moderates – to ensure civility is maintained even while the gay debate continues.

P.S: Some years ago, the Gay Garden name was changed to one reflecting the road the houses sit on – a sign, too, of the changing times.

sumiko@sph.com.sg.

Posted in Reflections | Leave a comment

Progress?

Posted on February 16, 2009 by jo2wong
I completely agree with Miss Jones about the telemarketers and freaking political correctness part! It’s getting pretty pervasive and frustrating just to get anything done these days!  Talk about progress? What a joke!
 
 
 

I’d swear too, Boris. Just ask the officious twerp who phoned me

Last updated at 12:52 AM on 15th February 2009

I have sworn a lot this past week. I received a text on my phone, saying: ‘Elizabeth Jones, phone this number immediately.’ Oh God (I was at this point merely taking our Lord’s name in vain). I phoned the number. It was a debt-collection agency.

‘What do you want?’ I asked.

‘I have to ask you some security questions first.’

‘No, you don’t, you phoned me.’

Boris Johnson (left) repeatedly swore at the chairman of the Commons Home Affairs Committee Keith Vaz regarding the Damian Green inquiry

After a few hours of this, I was told I was being taken to court because I owe £20 to Lovefilm.com.

‘You took out Goodbye, Mr Chips and La Vie En Rose, and never sent them back,’ I was told.

‘No, I didn’t. You kept emailing me – 14 times – telling me I had to choose ten films to make your service more efficient but I didn’t want ten films. You never posted those two DVDs. Despite this, you took my monthly subscription for a year, so you owe me £91.’

‘We sent you the films, and you never sent them back. Have you read your terms and conditions?’

‘No. The onus is on you to prove you sent me the films.’

‘Have you read your terms and conditions?’

‘What are you, a robot? No I ******* well haven’t.’

You see, sometimes, in this modern world populated by idiots who don’t listen, and have a card stuck in front of their noses telling them to say the same thing, over and over again, you have to swear. There is nothing else for it.

People who work in customer services no longer grasp that it is you, the customer, who is keeping them in employment.

I always try to reason with them first, saying things like: ‘Now, young man, put yourself in my shoes. How would you feel if you paid almost £100, received 30 emails hounding you and then were told you owe £20 for a service you never received?’

But this tactic never works, since these people have been chosen because they daubed ‘sociopath’ on their CVs. All they say in response is: ‘Have you read your terms and conditions?’

I was once phoned by my optician and told I had been barred. (Who gets barred by their optician? From VIP rooms of nightclubs, maybe, but from
an optician?)

I had sworn over the phone at an employee who had literally driven me insane. I had told him I couldn’t understand a word he was saying, and that he should ‘sod off’.

The phone call barring me was from the manager, who told me I had been racially offensive.

‘How can I be racially offensive when the sales assistant is Italian?’ I asked.

‘You said you couldn’t understand a word he said.’

‘I couldn’t. I wouldn’t go and work in a shop in Milan unless I could make myself understood by the indigenous population. That is not racist, it is merely practical.’

 

For this reason, I had a great deal of sympathy for Boris Johnson last week, who apparently swore down the phone at Keith Vaz. Like all politicians, Vaz, when asked about the altercation by Channel 4 News, said the same thing, over and over again: ‘We have to move on, we have to move on.’

Vaz apparently taped the conversation (incidentally, when dealing with anyone from British Gas or Sky, who phone me about a million times a week to tell me the insurance on my Sky+ boxes is about to run out, I recommend you tell them at the outset that you, the customer, are taping the conversation. It really puts the wind up them) and started crying like a baby at being made to hear rude words.

If I had been on the phone to Mr Vaz (does he have a title? Do I care?), I would have sworn at him because he is just the sort of officious, do-nothing twerp who seems to be in charge these days.

I have felt for a long time that we are living in a police state but last week really took the biscuit. An anaemic Right-wing Dutch politician, Geert Wilders, leader of the Party for Freedom in his parliament, heads towards these shores to engage in a debate about Islamic fundamentalism and is turned back at the border, just in case he upsets people in Islamic ‘communities’.

Dutch politician Geert Wilders at Heathrow Airport last week

I believe that protecting Muslims’ ears as if they were those of children is patronising and racist in the extreme.

On the other hand, it is perfectly acceptable to portray British working men who go on wildcat strikes outside oil refineries as bigots (‘They seem confused about their demands,’ one TV reporter said snidely).

Tempers are frayed at the moment, but silencing dissent will only stoke the embers.

Posted in News and politics | Leave a comment