[Dated on 23rd September 2013, but I'm only just publishing this.]
My mum has trouble paying the heating.
My mum HAD some trouble paying the heating, but we're not behind now.
Is there any financial help we can get?
Lady phones up first saying that mum has debt, but no, not really.
Me: Does she work?
Caller: 10 hours a week.
Me: She could try to find more work.
Caller interprets into East European language to her mum. I did not understand, but clearly her mum was not pleased.
Caller: She's worried that if they cut off her heating. Her cousin lives here with three children.
Me: Has she other benefits?
Caller: Only Housing Benefit.
Me: How much is getting?
Caller: £1020, but our rent is £1800.
Me: How many rooms do you have?
Caller: Three.
Me: She's likely to be done for fraud if she lets her cousin live there when she's on Housing Benefit.
Caller: O, the Council knows. We have reported change of circumstances.
Me: But she's not owing heating bills?
Caller: No, not now, but she's afraid that she can't pay.
Me: OK, I'm not sure if there's anything else we can do, apart from trying to work more hours.
Caller: Really, what you're telling me is irrelevant and you are upsetting my mother.
I took advice from supervisor.
Me: My supervisor said you could use this online calculator to find out whether she is getting all the benefits.
Caller: I want to talk to your supervisor.
Me: I have spoken to her and this is what she says. Check this out on xxxxx, and then if you have debts, we can help you restructure it.
Caller: What does that mean?
Me: We'll see who you are owing money to, and we'll see what your income and expenditure are. We then say, perhaps your mum could pay £5 a month until her debt is clear.
Caller: Has she got to pay it?
Me: Of course.
Caller: But this is not useful. We need help.
Me: I am trying to help. You said she is not really owing money any more.
Caller: She is. She's paying a little amount.
Me: How much and who is she owing?
Caller: I don't know. She has not got all the information.
Me: Then you must help her collect all this information and if she wants us to help her, we can help her.
Caller: You know, what you said earlier about her having to work longer hours is not nice because she is 56.
Me: (I heard 66.) How old did you say she is?
Caller: Fifty-six.
Me: I'm 56 [well, nearly]
Caller: But it's different. You speak English. She does not. She feels ashamed that after seven years here she still does not speak English. You know it's hard for old people to learn, not like me, I can learn it .... [on and on she went]
Me: Does she have debts? If she does, email or call us, and we'll arrange debt advice.
Caller: You know, my mum is so depressed she was trying to kill herself. If you don't help her, we're afraid she might ....
Me: Has she seen her GP?
Caller: Yes, but ... maybe it would be helpful to get her counselling.
Me: [thinking how to give her counselling when she does not speak English in an English speaking country] I am sorry to hear that, but you must make sure that the GP knows.
And on and on she went, not letting me get off the phone.
Caller: Just one minute?
Me: What is it about? You know what you have to do.
Caller: Just one minute. What is your name?
Me: [gave her my name, spelt it for her]. I'm a volunteer here, like many of the people here.
Caller: What's your extension number?
Me: What do you mean extension number?
Caller: An extension number is the line we can call directly.
Me: I don't have an extension number. I only do this Monday afternoons.
She finally hung up.
Then I learned that she rang up almost immediately and spoke to another volunteer demanding an appointment. Now she definitely has debts. Colleague spoke to supervisor and said, she does have debt we could try to apply for a grant.
Colleague: 'Grant'. That was what she was after.
The caller had wanted to be given 'free money' in the first place. Which explains why her mum was not pleased to be told she could work more hours, and her attempt at emotional blackmail about her mum trying to kill herself and all that.
Why should these people who never paid tax in this country be given £12000 a year of housing benefit in the first place? And to treat volunteers at an organization trying to help others?
Monday, 12 May 2014
Tuesday, 6 May 2014
Thoughts about Mother
I do believe it is 'Mothers' Day' in most parts of the world this weekend. Us here in Britain celebrated 'Mothering Sunday' some weeks ago, before Easter. (This weekend is important because we have Eurovision!)
My thoughts had been on a viral video, the one exalting 'being mum' as the 'toughest job in the world'.
Of course full-time mums love it, but then the criticisms quickly rolled in: what about the full-time dad? Or working mums? Are you telling me that being a full-time mum is more difficult than juggling a paid job and motherhood*?
Some feminist commentators of course jumped in to say that to put the full-time mother on the pedestal is a step back in the feminist struggle. How DARE you even suggest that after all the sacrifices made by women to give women the right to education and work that we should dignify a video which celebrates the work that mothers do AT HOME?
I don't want to write a long essay on this. I can only speak from my personal experience, just as every other mother (or father) would speak from their personal experience.
I had been in a job where I worked from 8.30am (or earlier) to whenever. There were days when I was at the office for so much of the day that I never saw the sun. This is Singapore, mind you: twelve hours of glorious sunshine every day of the year.
One day when I left work, unusually, before 6.30pm, I found myself thinking: O wow! The sun is still up and I have finished for the day. It was a treat.
Then I chose to be a stay-at-home mother. Probably the biggest mistake of my life.
Probably the biggest mistake of my life? (question mark).
Check back with me in seven years' time as I do not have the verdict for now. (The 'jury is still out', as they say.) But there were days when I used to yearn for those exhilarating days back at the office.
Not because of the tedium of 'housework' (cleaning, ironing, etc). I have outsourced much of this work. But the role of the mother is unrelenting, full on, day in and day out, often unchanging, ad nauseum and it often seemed ad infinitum.
When one's children are very young, there is a danger of the mother's thinking turning to mush.
I envied my husband. At least he had the time during the two hours he takes to travel to and from work to read the newspapers. There were days I only wanted to have space, but couldn't.
Probably too much information here, but it will be nice to be able to go to the loo and lock the door, so that your toddler wouldn't traipse in after you and bombard you with questions about 'What are you doing?'.
I envied my husband. At least if his staff were uncooperative or plain rebellious he could tell them off, reason with them, sack them. Even if bosses are being unfair, you could turn to independent adjudicators for help to decide what is and is not fair.
With a child, what? He's screaming, hitting, biting. You have to remain cool.
I envied my husband. He could sleep through the night (before he was overtaken by his current illness). Mothers are like SAS soldiers, some people think. We sleep with one ear open. I could tell when my child was not well just by listening to the way he slept, with or without the baby monitor.
So I am the one who gets up, check him, medicate him, sponge him, clean up after him, whatever.
Did I wish that I was a working mum instead? Yes. The plan was that I returned to work, but that plan fell through because of circumstances and we just had to adjust our plans accordingly.
Sure, when children start school, we do not parent 24/7 as in their pre-school days. Do those who work think that this is 'gift time', 'down time', 'tai tai time'?
For some mothers, perhaps. I seemed to be perpetually planning and organizing family stuff, the little things, the 'non-important' things, like getting uniforms ready, the sports gear cleaned, getting people in to repair this, waiting for the engineer to sort out that.
Nobody even stops to think what would happen if the washing is not done, the cooker is not repaired, the grass is not cut, the bins are not emptied, etc. etc.
Yet because I was not in 'paid work', I had a great sense of guilt, and I plodded on.
If I had been able to find a job that allowed me to work school hours, I would have. The opportunities to spend time with other adults would be mentally stimulating.
As it was I was only able to volunteer in the community, doing very responsible but unpaid work. And no money. (I also have a little business, but that is more to engage the brain and make a difference rather than to make money.)
So please do not diss those mothers who either chose, or had, to stay at home due to family circumstances.
*I know many mums who confessed to choosing work so that they did not have to look after their children full-time. For these, being a working mum is the easier option. Other mothers want to stay at home but need to work.
We are all trying to do our best and it does nothing for one section of the 'sisterhood' to accuse another for being anti-feminist or simply not doing their bit.
Would I have done it differently? Was staying home the biggest mistake of my life?
My son was perfectly happy that I was always home for him. That was the pattern he was comfortable with. However I sensed recently that he had become just a teensy bit embarrassed that his mum does not have a 'real' job, as in a paying job, like the mums of most of his mates.
Getting a paying job after more than ten years is an uphill task. After many, many disappointments (and that is another story) I had finally landed a part-time job, paying very little, but which I enjoy. It lets me use my brains.
Our family is what it is now because of what we decided to do. I see many clients who had become single parents on the flimsiest of excuses. I am almost certain that, had I been in a paid job outside the home, my husband and I would have split up by now given all the physical and emotional challenges that we faced, and our son would not be the very happy teenager he is now.
This is not to say that I am such a wonderful person. Please. It is very difficult to be a stay-at-home parent if one's spouse is not very supportive. It is so easy to start belittling the stay-at-home spouse, making him/her feel second-best, or to take for granted the hundreds of tasks one quietly completes day after day after day.
Every family has its issues (家家有本難念的經). Sometimes it's money, sometimes it's health, relationships, etc. As a couple we struggled with our issues and did what -- at that point -- we thought was best for the whole family.
So, let us not judge. Some stay-at-home mothers (and fathers) DO have the toughest job -- in relation to what they cannot do or what they prefer to do, or what they are gifted to do. If we merely adopt our own experience as the default and correct position, we will never agree with anyone else who has/had to live life from a different position.
Be ye kind, one to another.
This weekend, be kind especially to your mum.
My thoughts had been on a viral video, the one exalting 'being mum' as the 'toughest job in the world'.
Of course full-time mums love it, but then the criticisms quickly rolled in: what about the full-time dad? Or working mums? Are you telling me that being a full-time mum is more difficult than juggling a paid job and motherhood*?
Some feminist commentators of course jumped in to say that to put the full-time mother on the pedestal is a step back in the feminist struggle. How DARE you even suggest that after all the sacrifices made by women to give women the right to education and work that we should dignify a video which celebrates the work that mothers do AT HOME?
I don't want to write a long essay on this. I can only speak from my personal experience, just as every other mother (or father) would speak from their personal experience.
I had been in a job where I worked from 8.30am (or earlier) to whenever. There were days when I was at the office for so much of the day that I never saw the sun. This is Singapore, mind you: twelve hours of glorious sunshine every day of the year.
One day when I left work, unusually, before 6.30pm, I found myself thinking: O wow! The sun is still up and I have finished for the day. It was a treat.
Then I chose to be a stay-at-home mother. Probably the biggest mistake of my life.
Probably the biggest mistake of my life? (question mark).
Check back with me in seven years' time as I do not have the verdict for now. (The 'jury is still out', as they say.) But there were days when I used to yearn for those exhilarating days back at the office.
Not because of the tedium of 'housework' (cleaning, ironing, etc). I have outsourced much of this work. But the role of the mother is unrelenting, full on, day in and day out, often unchanging, ad nauseum and it often seemed ad infinitum.
When one's children are very young, there is a danger of the mother's thinking turning to mush.
I envied my husband. At least he had the time during the two hours he takes to travel to and from work to read the newspapers. There were days I only wanted to have space, but couldn't.
Probably too much information here, but it will be nice to be able to go to the loo and lock the door, so that your toddler wouldn't traipse in after you and bombard you with questions about 'What are you doing?'.
I envied my husband. At least if his staff were uncooperative or plain rebellious he could tell them off, reason with them, sack them. Even if bosses are being unfair, you could turn to independent adjudicators for help to decide what is and is not fair.
With a child, what? He's screaming, hitting, biting. You have to remain cool.
I envied my husband. He could sleep through the night (before he was overtaken by his current illness). Mothers are like SAS soldiers, some people think. We sleep with one ear open. I could tell when my child was not well just by listening to the way he slept, with or without the baby monitor.
So I am the one who gets up, check him, medicate him, sponge him, clean up after him, whatever.
Did I wish that I was a working mum instead? Yes. The plan was that I returned to work, but that plan fell through because of circumstances and we just had to adjust our plans accordingly.
Sure, when children start school, we do not parent 24/7 as in their pre-school days. Do those who work think that this is 'gift time', 'down time', 'tai tai time'?
For some mothers, perhaps. I seemed to be perpetually planning and organizing family stuff, the little things, the 'non-important' things, like getting uniforms ready, the sports gear cleaned, getting people in to repair this, waiting for the engineer to sort out that.
Nobody even stops to think what would happen if the washing is not done, the cooker is not repaired, the grass is not cut, the bins are not emptied, etc. etc.
Yet because I was not in 'paid work', I had a great sense of guilt, and I plodded on.
If I had been able to find a job that allowed me to work school hours, I would have. The opportunities to spend time with other adults would be mentally stimulating.
As it was I was only able to volunteer in the community, doing very responsible but unpaid work. And no money. (I also have a little business, but that is more to engage the brain and make a difference rather than to make money.)
So please do not diss those mothers who either chose, or had, to stay at home due to family circumstances.
*I know many mums who confessed to choosing work so that they did not have to look after their children full-time. For these, being a working mum is the easier option. Other mothers want to stay at home but need to work.
We are all trying to do our best and it does nothing for one section of the 'sisterhood' to accuse another for being anti-feminist or simply not doing their bit.
Would I have done it differently? Was staying home the biggest mistake of my life?
My son was perfectly happy that I was always home for him. That was the pattern he was comfortable with. However I sensed recently that he had become just a teensy bit embarrassed that his mum does not have a 'real' job, as in a paying job, like the mums of most of his mates.
Getting a paying job after more than ten years is an uphill task. After many, many disappointments (and that is another story) I had finally landed a part-time job, paying very little, but which I enjoy. It lets me use my brains.
Our family is what it is now because of what we decided to do. I see many clients who had become single parents on the flimsiest of excuses. I am almost certain that, had I been in a paid job outside the home, my husband and I would have split up by now given all the physical and emotional challenges that we faced, and our son would not be the very happy teenager he is now.
This is not to say that I am such a wonderful person. Please. It is very difficult to be a stay-at-home parent if one's spouse is not very supportive. It is so easy to start belittling the stay-at-home spouse, making him/her feel second-best, or to take for granted the hundreds of tasks one quietly completes day after day after day.
Every family has its issues (家家有本難念的經). Sometimes it's money, sometimes it's health, relationships, etc. As a couple we struggled with our issues and did what -- at that point -- we thought was best for the whole family.
So, let us not judge. Some stay-at-home mothers (and fathers) DO have the toughest job -- in relation to what they cannot do or what they prefer to do, or what they are gifted to do. If we merely adopt our own experience as the default and correct position, we will never agree with anyone else who has/had to live life from a different position.
Be ye kind, one to another.
This weekend, be kind especially to your mum.
Saturday, 28 December 2013
Poverty in Britain
There is poverty and there is poverty.
A couple of days ago my husband told me about this new story:
Meet the unemployed mother-of-two who borrowed £1,700 from EIGHT payday loan companies to buy 'hundreds' of Christmas presents... and now she says she can't pay any of them back
Today a commentator made her point here:
PLATELL'S PEOPLE: A self-indulgent mother and the myth of 'starving' Britain
I used to get people like this at my surgeries. Because they do not work for wages, they spent time organizing, or thinking of organizing, parties for their children.
It was important for some mothers to ensure that their children have every material comfort they have. Never mind who ultimately pays for it.
They know that with young children they would be classed as 'vulnerable' which means that the council will not throw them out of their accommodation.
This is a downside to a comprehensive welfare state.
A couple of days ago my husband told me about this new story:
Meet the unemployed mother-of-two who borrowed £1,700 from EIGHT payday loan companies to buy 'hundreds' of Christmas presents... and now she says she can't pay any of them back
Today a commentator made her point here:
PLATELL'S PEOPLE: A self-indulgent mother and the myth of 'starving' Britain
I used to get people like this at my surgeries. Because they do not work for wages, they spent time organizing, or thinking of organizing, parties for their children.
It was important for some mothers to ensure that their children have every material comfort they have. Never mind who ultimately pays for it.
They know that with young children they would be classed as 'vulnerable' which means that the council will not throw them out of their accommodation.
This is a downside to a comprehensive welfare state.
Monday, 11 November 2013
Straits Times edit: Marriage and manners
In view of the storm kicked up by a certain 'infidelity' website that wanted to set up in Singapore, I sent the following piece, exhorting the benefits of pre-marriage counselling (marriage preparation courses) to Straits Times which published a very watered-down version.
The original letter here, followed by the Straits Times version:
=========
Yet good manners in word and deed (ie no physical or mental abuse) exhibited by husbands towards their wives (and vice-versa), and to their children and neighbours, will naturally become the behaviour that children will model when they step out of their family.
Marriage is hard work, try good manners
MY NEPHEW is getting married soon and I gave him and his fiancee some advice that I had found useful.
Too many couples spend a lot of effort preparing for their wedding day and not enough for a lifetime of marriage. More time should be spent working on the marriage.
Older Chinese women used to say: "If you marry a chicken, follow a chicken. If you marry a dog, follow a dog."
At the heart of this saying is the very important concept of commitment.
Keeping a relationship of whatever nature going is hard work. Marriage is hard work. There will be times when we feel that we are not "in love" any more. That is when we have to make an even bigger effort to love.
Fidelity comes from remembering that we have not married a "Mr or Miss Right".
Instead, we are marrying a "Mr or Miss Left" - one who has left all others to stick with just one person, and this person will never be perfect.
An old adage states that "manners maketh man". Indeed, good manners in word and deed exhibited by spouses towards each other and to their children and neighbours will naturally become the behaviour that children will model after when they step out of their family.
From this perspective, good manners is not merely about giving up one's seat on public transport. It goes to the very heart of our relationship with our spouse, our children, the wider family and everyone we encounter in our lifetime.
===========
Moral of the story: Straits Times Forum letters are often so edited that it totally loses the objective of the letter writer. Reader, beware.
The original letter here, followed by the Straits Times version:
=========
Marriage
and manners
I am excited to be home soon to attend my nephew’s wedding.
I gave him and his fiancée the same advice I had found
useful: Too many couples spend more effort preparing for their wedding day, and not enough for a lifetime of marriage. So, spend more
time working on their marriage rather than on their wedding.
Older Chinese women used to say, “If you marry a chicken,
follow a chicken. If you marry a dog, follow a dog.” Today this can be seen as
belittling the position of women.
But at the heart of this saying is the very important
concept of commitment. Commitment (along with family honour) was important. Parents
ensured that children married someone who was well-matched to give their
marriage a fighting chance.
The fatalistic chicken-and-dog saying is equivalent to the
Christian marriage (not just wedding)
vow to “to have and to
hold, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health,
until death do us part”.
Keeping a relationship of whatever nature going is hard
work. Marriage is hard work. There will be times when we feel that we are not
‘in love’ any more. That is when we have to make an even bigger effort to love.
Marriage preparation courses help us to anticipate and
identify potential crisis points (illness, unemployment, money and children
problems, temptation, etc). Fidelity comes from remembering that we have not
married a ‘Mr/Miss Right’.
We are marrying a ‘Mr/Miss Left’: one who has left all others to stick with just one
person. And this person – you and I – will never be perfect, never ‘always
right’.
“Manners maketh man” sounds like an old English saying.
Yet good manners in word and deed (ie no physical or mental abuse) exhibited by husbands towards their wives (and vice-versa), and to their children and neighbours, will naturally become the behaviour that children will model when they step out of their family.
The Chinese call this jia
jiao (family education), a derivative of the Confucian concept of li.
From this perspective, good manners is not merely about
giving up one’s seat on public transport. It goes to the very heart of our
relationship with our spouse, our children, the wider family, rippling out to
the nameless thousands that we encounter in our lifetime.
=========
I thought, "Not bad, in under 400 words I was able to tackle a current issue 'marrying' my Christian understanding, the 'manners maketh man' adage which I had been contemplating, and good old Confucian ethics. So I was disappointed to read this version (reduced to 254 words) on Straits Times Online, leaving out the most crucial point about marriage preparation courses:
=========
Marriage is hard work, try good manners
MY NEPHEW is getting married soon and I gave him and his fiancee some advice that I had found useful.
Too many couples spend a lot of effort preparing for their wedding day and not enough for a lifetime of marriage. More time should be spent working on the marriage.
Older Chinese women used to say: "If you marry a chicken, follow a chicken. If you marry a dog, follow a dog."
At the heart of this saying is the very important concept of commitment.
Keeping a relationship of whatever nature going is hard work. Marriage is hard work. There will be times when we feel that we are not "in love" any more. That is when we have to make an even bigger effort to love.
Fidelity comes from remembering that we have not married a "Mr or Miss Right".
Instead, we are marrying a "Mr or Miss Left" - one who has left all others to stick with just one person, and this person will never be perfect.
An old adage states that "manners maketh man". Indeed, good manners in word and deed exhibited by spouses towards each other and to their children and neighbours will naturally become the behaviour that children will model after when they step out of their family.
From this perspective, good manners is not merely about giving up one's seat on public transport. It goes to the very heart of our relationship with our spouse, our children, the wider family and everyone we encounter in our lifetime.
===========
Moral of the story: Straits Times Forum letters are often so edited that it totally loses the objective of the letter writer. Reader, beware.
Sunday, 15 September 2013
Inspiration for Servant Leaders
The notion of servant leadership is not new to Christians. Jesus came to serve and not to be served. So there he was, washing his disciples' feet.
While attending a very private ceremony, attended by a very small number of people, I was overwhelmed not only by the sense of history but also a deep sense of gratitude to God. I was possibly the oldest mother there.
Given that so few would have experienced this event I wrote 'Servant Leaders' to share with fellow Singaporeans. Straits Times Forum ran it as 'Respect those who serve us' (13th September 2013). It is unusual to have two words edited into five words.
As expected, the brickbats came from 'forummers' who imputed a less-than-honourable motive to my writing.
First of all, there is nothing wrong in being proud of one's offspring. I will not apologise for expressing my pride in his achievement.
To pretend that I was not proud of his achievement would be dishonesty and gross injustice to a young man who had worked very hard to overcome his physical, intellectual and emotional obstacles -- painstakingly, one by one -- over several years, and also the part played by his school teachers, special educational needs co-ordinator, music tutors, pastoral workers, etc. etc. who had implicit faith in him.
More importantly, if forummers cannot see what I am actually trying to say to, and about, the people that matter, then I am -- slowly but surely -- losing hope in the future of Singapore.
===
Respect those who serve us
ON SUNDAY, my husband and I were very proud parents as our only child was "admitted" to the roll of scholars at the oldest independent school in Britain.
What caught my eye was the place of the head porter in this ceremony - he led the party in and out of the venue.
During tea, I observed how polite the head boy and officers were to the catering staff.
These school leavers are likely to go on to become the movers and shakers of society, yet treated the servants with utmost respect.
What would the world be like if all leaders - political, commercial and intellectual - behaved in the same manner?
Contrast this to my frequent observations of how our domestic helpers are treated as "invisible" beings.
If we want the world to be a better place, then we must teach our children to respect those who serve us. If we need to bring in people to take up the jobs Singaporeans shun, is it because we have become too difficult to serve?
Respect, like charity, begins at home.
===
In anthropological literature we read of 'rituals of status reversal'. For example:
Some might say that these are merely symbolic and only entrench hierarchy. Be that as it may, this does not detract from the fact that my husband and I were suitably impressed by the good manners displayed by senior staff and pupils towards those who are usually considered of lower social standing. Eat your heart out, Max Weber.
To be fair, the editor kindly sent me a draft of his edit. But I was away at conference and was not able to respond to him before it was published. The original letter, for what it's worth here:
Servant leaders
Last Sunday my husband and I were very proud parents as our only child, a special blessing considering our age at marriage, was ‘admitted’ to the roll of scholars at the oldest independent school in Britain. We were witnesses to a ceremony that has taken place for more than 600 years!
What caught my eye was not so much that the old school boy, a renowned banker, who laid hands on my son proclaimed words of authority in Latin, but the place of the Head Porter in this ceremony.
He led the party in and he led the party out.
During tea I also observed how polite the head boy and officers were to the catering staff.
I was hobnobbing with the elite of a very elitist school and leavers are likely to be the movers and shakers of society, and yet the lowest servants are treated with utter respect, and at times, ceremony. How marvellous is that?
What would our world be like if all leaders – political, commercial and intellectual – are all prepared to cross the road to help someone who had fallen into a muddy ditch? Metaphorically.
Contrast this to my frequent observations of the invisibility of some of our nameless home helpers.
If we want our world to be a better place, then we must teach our children to respect those who serve us. If we need to import people to run our services because Singaporeans are refusing to take on these jobs, is it because we as paying customers have become too difficult to serve?
Respect, like charity, begins at home.
While attending a very private ceremony, attended by a very small number of people, I was overwhelmed not only by the sense of history but also a deep sense of gratitude to God. I was possibly the oldest mother there.
Given that so few would have experienced this event I wrote 'Servant Leaders' to share with fellow Singaporeans. Straits Times Forum ran it as 'Respect those who serve us' (13th September 2013). It is unusual to have two words edited into five words.
As expected, the brickbats came from 'forummers' who imputed a less-than-honourable motive to my writing.
First of all, there is nothing wrong in being proud of one's offspring. I will not apologise for expressing my pride in his achievement.
To pretend that I was not proud of his achievement would be dishonesty and gross injustice to a young man who had worked very hard to overcome his physical, intellectual and emotional obstacles -- painstakingly, one by one -- over several years, and also the part played by his school teachers, special educational needs co-ordinator, music tutors, pastoral workers, etc. etc. who had implicit faith in him.
More importantly, if forummers cannot see what I am actually trying to say to, and about, the people that matter, then I am -- slowly but surely -- losing hope in the future of Singapore.
===
Respect those who serve us
ON SUNDAY, my husband and I were very proud parents as our only child was "admitted" to the roll of scholars at the oldest independent school in Britain.
What caught my eye was the place of the head porter in this ceremony - he led the party in and out of the venue.
During tea, I observed how polite the head boy and officers were to the catering staff.
These school leavers are likely to go on to become the movers and shakers of society, yet treated the servants with utmost respect.
What would the world be like if all leaders - political, commercial and intellectual - behaved in the same manner?
Contrast this to my frequent observations of how our domestic helpers are treated as "invisible" beings.
If we want the world to be a better place, then we must teach our children to respect those who serve us. If we need to bring in people to take up the jobs Singaporeans shun, is it because we have become too difficult to serve?
Respect, like charity, begins at home.
===
In anthropological literature we read of 'rituals of status reversal'. For example:
"Men use the authority vested in their office to misuse and abuse the incumbents of lower positions and confuse position with its incumbent. Rituals of status reversal ... are thought of as bringing social structure and communitas into right mutual relations once again." (Victor Turner 1969:178)These rituals might involve leader-designates being humiliated by the people over whom they are about to rule, or when there has been dissension so that the 'unity that has been sundered by selfish strife and concealed ill-feeling is restored by those who are normally thought of as beneath the battle for jural and political status' (Turner, 1969:184).
Some might say that these are merely symbolic and only entrench hierarchy. Be that as it may, this does not detract from the fact that my husband and I were suitably impressed by the good manners displayed by senior staff and pupils towards those who are usually considered of lower social standing. Eat your heart out, Max Weber.
To be fair, the editor kindly sent me a draft of his edit. But I was away at conference and was not able to respond to him before it was published. The original letter, for what it's worth here:
Servant leaders
Last Sunday my husband and I were very proud parents as our only child, a special blessing considering our age at marriage, was ‘admitted’ to the roll of scholars at the oldest independent school in Britain. We were witnesses to a ceremony that has taken place for more than 600 years!
What caught my eye was not so much that the old school boy, a renowned banker, who laid hands on my son proclaimed words of authority in Latin, but the place of the Head Porter in this ceremony.
He led the party in and he led the party out.
During tea I also observed how polite the head boy and officers were to the catering staff.
I was hobnobbing with the elite of a very elitist school and leavers are likely to be the movers and shakers of society, and yet the lowest servants are treated with utter respect, and at times, ceremony. How marvellous is that?
What would our world be like if all leaders – political, commercial and intellectual – are all prepared to cross the road to help someone who had fallen into a muddy ditch? Metaphorically.
Contrast this to my frequent observations of the invisibility of some of our nameless home helpers.
If we want our world to be a better place, then we must teach our children to respect those who serve us. If we need to import people to run our services because Singaporeans are refusing to take on these jobs, is it because we as paying customers have become too difficult to serve?
Respect, like charity, begins at home.
Sunday, 11 August 2013
'Central area weighting' for low-wage workers?
After an international anthropology conference I came home from Manchester in a train full of tourists who were taking home expensive Man Utd merchandise and found one of my letters has been published:
'Central area weighting' for low-wage workers? [not sure how long ST would keep this online]
After the last letter which I had complained sounded anaemic after editing, the editor had kindly (bless his heart, and many thanks if you are reading this) shown me an edit of the letter before it was published. I was even able to add in a further sentence towards the end.
The published version here (just in case ST takes down the original link above):
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DURING my recent three-week visit to Singapore, I could not help but notice the many posters seeking staff at retail and food and beverage outlets.
A staff member told me it was almost impossible to hire anyone to work in the "central" area as job-seekers consider it too expensive to travel and eat there.
Employers do not like hiring students because they tend to quit soon after being trained, while older workers look down on the $5.50 an hour offered to them.
I pondered over whether it is possible to live in Singapore on a monthly wage of $1,500 for a year. After deducting the Central Provident Fund (CPF) contribution, that would mean having a take-home pay of $1,200.
The cheapest room I could find for rent was one in Bukit Merah, going for $800 a month.
If I were to live on $1,500, would I be able to travel to the "central" area and eat with my remaining $400? Remember, there is often a "no cooking" rule when renting units.
I decided that on $1,500 a month, a worker could do two of these - rent, travel or eat - but not all three.
Then, there is the cost of leisure activities (for good mental health), clothes, toiletries, tax, training (for a better job) and putting aside something for a rainy day.
Of course, there are the periodic Workfare payouts for some. But what other help do workers get at the end of every month?
Are Singapore employers allowed to give workers a "central area weighting" or other kinds of subsidies not subject to tax or CPF deductions, just as some employees get a "London weighting" to ameliorate the costs of working in London? This should be restricted to low-wage earners so that the privilege is not abused.
More importantly, are consumers willing to pay more for their goods and services, so that workers can afford to work?
===
The original had a mention of 'minimum wage':
===
I am not a fan of the ‘minimum wage’ either. It is a heartless policy.
Oral history accounts tell of how employers took into account the personal circumstances of their trusted employees and often raised their wages when employees got married or had a new baby.
Minimum wage in the UK means employers think that meeting the legal requirement should be the full extent of their generosity. Taxpayers now make up the shortfall with ‘Working Tax Credit’ while employers (unfairly) keep all their profits.
===
My husband was furious when he read some of the online comments on the Forum page. (Let's just say we are very protective of each other.)
I cannot understand why every time I write something in the press in support of the downtrodden and disadvantaged in Singapore, I get slammed for being 'elitist' and told to 'go home'. So I am particularly grateful to those who write in support.
Clearly Singapore is my home -- I have a passport to prove this when I could have become British many years ago -- and I write and critique what goes on because I feel passionately about and for the people who call themselves 'Singaporeans'.
Incidentally I think working adults should be entitled to having their own rooms and not have to share. Particularly where people might work on shifts, for good mental and physical health, it is not ideal to share a room with someone who's not a spouse.
So, what have I done wrong this time to warrant such negative comments from some readers??
Wednesday, 31 July 2013
What's so 'maju' about this 'Majulah Singapura'?
Just back from three weeks in Singapore where Google refused to let me log in because I refused to give them my (brother's) mobile phone number.
Putting the new National Day song aside, I sent this to Straits Times, but they were not interested:
=======
Dear Editor
As soon as I heard the first words of ‘Majulah Singapura’ I instinctively stood to attention, as I was taught to do in school.
Funny, I thought, I missed hearing the distinctive drum roll and the fanfare introduction.
I had stumbled upon what appeared to be technical run-through of the NDP while on the roof of the Esplanade Theatres on the Bay.
Less than half-way through, I could take it no longer and started ranting at my companions.
I was appalled by this dirge-like rendition of ‘Majulah Singapura’ which was aspiring to be ‘God Save the Queen’.
Mr Zubir Said wrote a rousing national anthem that expresses vigour, vision and vitality.
It admonishes singers and listeners to move forward, aspire, reach for new collective goals.
If the original ‘Majulah Singapura’ represents a purposeful march towards a prosperous future, the rendition I heard was a slow, aimless amble, much like the young Singaporeans around me who drag their feet as they propel their flip-flops forward*.
I thought lowering the key of the original composition to make the high note more reachable – thus showing a poverty of aspiration – was bad enough.
The plea from this proud Singaporean: Would the NDP organizers please, please revert to the original tempo?
National Day is the time to rally Singaporeans together. We need an anthem that helps drive a vision, not a folk tune to slow-dance to.
*Is it the heat or just a lack of general purpose? But we were struck by the way many people, particularly the younger ones, appear to amble about, oblivious to other pedestrians who need to be somewhere else fast.
Putting the new National Day song aside, I sent this to Straits Times, but they were not interested:
=======
Dear Editor
As soon as I heard the first words of ‘Majulah Singapura’ I instinctively stood to attention, as I was taught to do in school.
Funny, I thought, I missed hearing the distinctive drum roll and the fanfare introduction.
I had stumbled upon what appeared to be technical run-through of the NDP while on the roof of the Esplanade Theatres on the Bay.
Less than half-way through, I could take it no longer and started ranting at my companions.
I was appalled by this dirge-like rendition of ‘Majulah Singapura’ which was aspiring to be ‘God Save the Queen’.
Mr Zubir Said wrote a rousing national anthem that expresses vigour, vision and vitality.
It admonishes singers and listeners to move forward, aspire, reach for new collective goals.
If the original ‘Majulah Singapura’ represents a purposeful march towards a prosperous future, the rendition I heard was a slow, aimless amble, much like the young Singaporeans around me who drag their feet as they propel their flip-flops forward*.
I thought lowering the key of the original composition to make the high note more reachable – thus showing a poverty of aspiration – was bad enough.
The plea from this proud Singaporean: Would the NDP organizers please, please revert to the original tempo?
National Day is the time to rally Singaporeans together. We need an anthem that helps drive a vision, not a folk tune to slow-dance to.
============
I wonder if the rendition I heard was merely an accident. Do you know of anyone who attended rehearsals and might be able to tell you about the slow-burn Majulah Singapura?
*Is it the heat or just a lack of general purpose? But we were struck by the way many people, particularly the younger ones, appear to amble about, oblivious to other pedestrians who need to be somewhere else fast.
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