Raising Six Kids sans TV or gaming

Would you live in a house where there is no television set that can show commercial programmes?

At our home, there are three Apple computers and four PCs, but they are not installed with computer games.

How would you feel if Internet access was available only in the living room? Would you protest if you had to share a room with four other siblings ranging from five to 16 years old?

Welcome to the Ess household. We have six children — the youngest at 11 months and the oldest in the first year of study at the polytechnic.

Until this year, our three teenagers have had to share one mobile phone. This may seem an unconventional way to raise our children, but we actively choose to create the conditions for them to live in.

Our friends and relatives either support us or justify allowing their children to watch television on the grounds that it gives them access to news and documentaries.

We prefer that our children learn to appreciate the ancient art of reading first before they are given the opportunity to vegetate in front of the TV. Similarly, while we are eager to promote the use of information technology in our family, we do not allow any gaming activity.

So, what do we do as a family if we cannot sit in front of the television and watch Survivor or Singapore Idol?

Since the conversation killer (TV, that is) does not reign supreme in the living room, we practise another ancient and dying art: Talking to each other. We hope that our children will become more articulate and confident as diverse topics — from sex to religion and politics — are discussed over meals.

Their opinions are based on the reading materials they are given access to, including newspapers and books by authors such as Jane Austen, George Orwell, C S Lewis and J R R Tolkien.

Another ancient art we practise is play, not with expensive items from Toys 'R' Us but with objects available around the house. A broomstick becomes a sword, a blanket becomes a Hobbit's robe and a set of sofa cushions can be the building blocks for a house.

As we do not have a car, going out with six children resembles a military manoeuvre. We have to take two taxis. Apart from working out the permutations of dividing six kids and an occasional maid between two cabs, we live with the constant fear that we might accidentally leave one child behind.

With six children to bring up, our expenses are high and our children are accustomed to having to share resources like the room, the clothes and the food.

We have tried our best to provide what they need, but we do not give them everything they want. Thus, from an early age, our kids have never demanded that we buy anything for them as they are confident that if it is a need, we would see to it. Since the influence of TV commercials is absent from their lives, our kids do not become slaves to trends.

Yes, they do argue and fight, and we have to deal with the usual problems that arise when our teenagers try to establish their independence.

We do not recommend that other readers follow our example. After all, TV and the Internet are vital parts of life today, and they can be an easy and cheap babysitting service.

However, as parents, we must ensure that all these electronic gadgets do not take over our primary role of forming a loving relationship with our children and establishing the proper values to guide them through life.

This article first appeared in TODAY on 24th July 2006

Reduse,reuse,rejoice

REDUCE,REUSE,REJOICE

LET'S get one thing straight — the Happy Planet Index (HPI) that ranked Singapore 131st out of 178 countries does not actually measure happiness as we know it.

It is an innovative measure of how efficiently a nation converts the planet's natural resources into long and happy lives for its citizens. The word "happy", by which many have been seduced, is just one component of the index.

So it is wrong to assume that nations that score low in this index are the unhappiest places in the world. A low score says quite something else. To properly understand this, we must look at the three basic components of the index.

These are life satisfaction, life expectancy and ecological footprint. The HPI is arrived at by multiplying life satisfaction and life expectancy (the result being an indicator of a happy and long life), and dividing that by the ecological footprint (that is, how much planetary resources are consumed).

In short, the HPI represents the efficiency with which a nation converts the earth's finite resources into well-being for its citizens. Singapore scored 6.9 for life satisfaction, 78.7 for life expectancy, and 6.2 for ecological footprint. The first indicates that Singaporeans are generally satisfied with their lives — not a bad score, considering the highest was 8.2, achieved by Switzerland and Denmark.

In life expectancy, we outperformed the United States (77.4 years) and just tail Australia (80.3 years) and Japan (82 years). Since life expectancy reflects a country's medical conditions, that's something to cheer about.

So why did we score so badly overall in the HPI?

This happened because we had a very high ecological footprint measure. This indicator measures how much of the planet's environmental resources are used up to sustain a nation at its present levels of consumption, technological development and resource efficiency.

The higher a country's ecological footprint score, the more that country uses up the earth's resources, and the bigger its global environmental impact.

The beauty of the ecological footprint indicator is that it takes into account the fact that, in a global economy, people consume resources and ecological services from all over the world.

So, a coffee plantation in Brazil, for example, will count towards the ecological footprints of all the countries where Brazilian coffee is consumed.

Now, since Singapore apparently leaves such a big ecological footprint, we should consider why we consume so much of our planet's resources.

Some will suggest that this is an inevitable by-product of our economic development; others, that our high standard of life makes it psychologically far easier for us to donate money to save an endangered elephant, than to give up a car, switch off the air conditioner or reduce the use of plastic products.

Ultimately, we have to face this uncomfortable question: Can we live long and satisfied lives without using up so much of the earth's resources? Top-ranked Vanuatu proves it is possible. But we are not Vanuatu.

Can Singapore find a way to outperform Vanuatu? It will be a challenge to each and every one of us.


This article was first published in Today on 21.7.2006

Help my child's a gaming junkie

My sister phoned me one day and shared her fear that her Secondary 1 son, Mathew (not his real name), was not performing well in English. In addition, his teachers had observed that he lacked social skills with his classmates.

Like many teenagers with working parents, he was given unlimited access to the computer to play games on the Internet. They are rarely around to monitor his use of the Internet for such purposes. This has produced two undesirable results in Mathew.

Firstly, he has become addicted to the games and cannot focus on his studies. His attention span is short. He finds it difficult to follow class instructions. He cannot write a coherent essay.

Often, the quality of work that he produces is incomplete, poorly planned and unstructured as all he wants is to finish his work quickly so that he can have more time to play his games.

Most importantly, his brain becomes tired and he finds it hard to concentrate and pay attention in school. He has been conditioned to expect instant gratification.

When playing computer games, the push of a button changes a game's character. The press of a keypad will fire an unlimited amount of firepower. He feels an instant but false sense of achievement. Thus, he finds it difficult to handle activities that call for delayed gratification — such as solving physics or chemistry problems.

Secondly, because he spends most of his time in front of the computer, his social skills are not given a chance to develop. Unlike spending time in the playground, he does not have the opportunity to learn about negotiating skills, about give and take, and most importantly, how to treat others with respect.

He is not the exception to the rule. In my course of work as a teacher, I have come across many underachievers like him. They have the potential to produce excellent results, and yet are unable to because of their addictions.

Often, it is too late by the time the parents discover that their child has a problem as it is too near to the O level examinations.

Luckily for Mathew, he is only in Sec 1 and thus this habit can be modified. While it is impossible and impractical to cocoon him from the Internet and gaming facilities, the following steps can be taken to help him establish good habits:

Firstly, a reasonable time limit must be set for Mathew so that he can learn to work within boundaries. Thirty to 45 minutes per day is sufficient. He has to understand that if he oversteps this limit, the privilege to play his computer games would be withdrawn.

Secondly, his parents must insist that good quality work must be produced before he is allowed to play. As Mathew's parents are working, his work could be checked in the evening when they return home. Of course, this means the computer would have to be locked when they are working during the day.

Thirdly, with the time freed up from playing computer games, he can be encouraged to do other meaningful activities. A trip to the library could be a surprising experience for many: It is no longer a place to borrow books only, but where one can take in story-telling, book reviews, talks and courses regularly.

He could also take up interesting courses organised at the nearby community club, and along the way, get the chance to hone his stunted social skills.

Playing computer games is not a crime. Allowing our children to play excessively without control, however, is. As parents, we would be depriving our children of their right to be developed to their full potential.

This article first appeared in TODAY on 6th July 2006

CAREER AND THE BABY BONUS

WOULD you kill this child?

I nearly did. In 1999,I discovered that I was pregnant with my fifth child, Ariel.

There were many good, rational and legitimate reasons for me to abort her.

First, I had just given birth to my fourth son, Atticus, and five weeks later I discovered that I had conceived again. Second, I had just had a caesarean and I was worried that my womb was not ready to have this child. Third, during the 1990s,before the baby bonus package was revised, I could not use my Medisave to pay the cost of my delivery and had to take no-pay leave for my fourth child. It had already cost my family about $15,000 for my fourth child in terms of the hospitalisation charges and loss of income.

I even had a Catholic priest ’s blessing to abort the child for medical and social reasons.
However, we chose not to.

We accepted her arrival with the same happiness and enthusiasm with which we had welcomed our other children. We were worried about the additional expenses: We had to save more to pay for the delivery and to cover the loss of income. We were also worried about the time we would be able to spend with this child and the other children.

I am a university graduate. I am a department head at a local school. I work 12 hours a day. I am the first to leave the house at 6am and I return at 7pm. I travel abroad regularly on field trips and conferences. After the birth of Ariel, I completed a postgraduate diploma in department management. My husband and I conduct courses and workshops two or three evenings a week as a community service.

Were we irresponsible to maintain demanding careers while choosing to have so many children? Did we allow our hearts to rule our heads? Were we fair to our other children? Did we deprive them of love and time because we also had to care for their siblings? Should we have aborted our youngest child?

Often, when a woman discovers that she is pregnant, she will experience a wide range of emotions depending on her circumstances. Does her husband support her? What about her boss? What about her career? What about her holidays? The projects that she is overseeing?

Does she have enough time, love and money to see to the child? Is she ready to be a mother and wife at the same time? Is she prepared?

Last December, I discovered that I was pregnant with my sixth child. I had similar doubts and worries. I was so worried that I chose to inform my mother about this child only on the first day of Chinese New Year, so that she could not scold me.

Each woman will have her reasons for keeping or aborting a child. Most of the reasons are sane and rational. Having a child, whether it is the first or the sixth, is a major decision.

A child brings about major changes in a marriage and family. Many women choose not to have children because they fear the changes that they cannot control.

Handling a project in the workplace or running a department is easier than having a baby, as we cannot take a diploma in diaper-changing or a degree in breastfeeding.

However, my personal belief and experience is that if we can manage the stress and demands of a university education and the pressures of the work environment, we should be able to handle this bundle of joy

This article first appeared in TODAY on 28th May 2005.

LET MOTHER NATURE SELECT

In the early 1980s when I took my Eurasian boyfriend home to meet my parents and grandparents, they were civil to him.

Over the months when he was courting me, my family made it known that he was not a suitable life partner as he was from a different race. My maternal grandmother was especially worried, as she was afraid that her potential great-grandchild would not be fair like her, a Chinese. After seven years of courtship, we managed to change the views of our families and we married.

When my grandmother found out that I was pregnant, she took on the task of feeding me with soya bean milk, white nuts, tofu and anything white to ensure that her first great-grandchild was fair.

When my child was born, the first thought that came to mind for my husband and I was: “Is this our child?” He had neither the colour of his mother who is a Chinese, nor that of his father who is a Eurasian. He looked like a fair European. A check with my husband ’s family tree revealed that he has Dutch, Portuguese, Indian and French blood.

Perhaps, that was the reason why my son ’s skin colour was like that of a European. Needless to say, my grandmother was thrilled that her scheme to produce a fair great-grandson worked.

My four subsequent children were each born with a different skin colour.

With the impending arrival of our sixth child, a boy, in August, we ’ve even made a joke: Would he be fair, dark or striped like a zebra?

What would my grandmother do if she were alive, since we have the technology to test the genetic makeup of an embryo before it is implanted in the womb?

With pre-implantation genetic diagnosis, parents now have the potential and opportunity to select not only the child’s sex, but also the colour of the child ’s eyes, skin and even hair.

Would we be pressured to produce a particular type of child that fits the genetic makeup of a particular race?

This problem is not that obvious if the parents are of the same race, but would be potentially explosive if they are from different races.

I think that genetic testing should not focus on non-essential aspects of a human being such as gender and skin colour, although some would argue that it makes a world of difference whether you are a male or a female.

Gender and race issues are best handled by changing people ’s perceptions.

For example, my family now has accepted all my children as part of their family and treats all of them with love and respect irrespective of their complexion.

We can draw an important lesson from the genetics experience of the 1960s, when cross breeding of the rice plant had produced the Miracle Rice to maximize production.

Farmers were motivated to plant large tracts of the same rice plant. One result of this was that pests and diseases wiped out an entire crop much faster, because the plants were genetically similar.

Scientists recognise the need to promote biodiversity, which enriches our lives. As the only species on this planet with the knowledge and ability to explore genetic makeups, we have the responsibility to treat biodiversity with the respect that it deserves.
Let Mother Nature make her selection with regards to the genetic makeup of a human, and she will ensure the survival of the species

This article first appeared in TODAY on 1st June 2005.

YOU’RE MY FAMILY

MY father was born in Malang, Indonesia, and my mother, a Chinese, in Singapore. My husband is a Portuguese/Dutch Eurasian. His mother is Anglo-Indian while his father came from a long line of Eurasians.

How do I classify my children? Are they considered Eurasian, since in Singapore children follow their father ’s race? In our family, we believe we belong to one race — the human race. We embrace the Singapore culture. We are equally comfortable eating curry out of banana
leaves and eating rice with chopsticks.

We celebrate Chinese New Year and Christmas with equal passion. Our children receive hong baos during Chinese New Year from their maternal grandparents and presents on Christmas from their paternal grandparents. During Qing Ming,we visit the Bright Hill Temple where the children ’s great-grandparents’ ashes are kept — and yet we consider ourselves Christian, praying in a church every Sunday.

Since 1998, Racial Harmony Day is celebrated in schools every year on July 21. Students are encouraged to explore and understand various cultural practices, heritage tours are conducted and traditional games like “five stones ” are played.

In 2002,the Ministry of Education (MOE)set up a Committee on Strengthening Racial Harmony in Schools to provide guidance to schools and help them share effective practices.

Yet in 2003,a National Institute of Education (NIE) survey found very little inter-racial mixing in schools. The survey found that most primary school children do not socialise across racial lines and tend to pick friends of their own race.

Why did this situation occur, since MOE and the schools have put in so much effort to promote racial harmony?

To find the answer, we need to look at another perspective. Our actions are influenced by how we think. And the home is the best place to foster the attitudes that we hold towards Singaporeans of other races.

When our children see their parents having friends from different religious backgrounds and races and when they see us willing to help fellow Singaporeans regardless of their race, language or
religion, it sends a powerful message.

When I was growing up in the 1970s, my family lived in Kampong Glam, one of the heartlands of the Malay community. Although we look upon ourselves as a Chinese family, we looked forward to celebrating Hari Raya Puasa. During the fasting month, I would run to Bussorah Street every afternoon to savour the delicious tidbits sold there. On the first day of Hari Raya, my father would give gifts to his Malay neighbour and visit their home. Our neighbour would reciprocate during Chinese New Year.

Sometimes, my grandfather would take our Malay neighbour ’s children to school when the parents were not free, and our neighbour in turn would babysit me when the need arose.

We were considered part of the community. While we were rooted in our own cultural practices, we were willing to participate in the activities of our non- Chinese friends. In this way, our attitudes and beliefs were moulded to accept Singaporeans of other races as part of our shared community.

Racial harmony cannot be promoted just one day a year during Racial Harmony Day. Participating in organized activity is only the beginning. Racial harmony needs to be fertilized constantly through open and honest communication. Any weeds of discontent must be pulled out immediately.

Will such a consistent and conscious effort guarantee that when Singapore is faced with a crisis we will stand by our compatriots? Only time will tell.

This article first appeared in TODAY on

FOR PATIENT'S SAKE,BE OPEN

STUDYING at St Anthony’s Convent in the 1970s was an enriching experience for me. There was no compulsory Community Involvement Project (CIP) and there was an Extra Curricular Activities (ECA) club, the St Vincent de Paul Society, whose members did not get ECA
points for entry to pre-university education.I remember how the nuns and students of the society toiled to pack biscuits, rice and other food and once a month, old men and women from Chinatown would troop by for these packages.

Once, we asked a nun, Sister Janet, why we did not give them money to buy their own provisions. She explained that they were so concerned with saving money for their coffins that they would rather starve than use the money.

To the nuns, a charity was never a business organisation and the head of a religious congregation would never think of himself or herself as a CEO who earned a 10-month bonus and travelled first-class.In fact, the nun’s teaching salaries were returned to the convent. I once saw a nun agonise over buying a pair of shoes as she felt she was being ostentatious.

As a teenager, I was awed by these beautiful women who had the courage to take the vow of poverty and to serve the poor and disadvantaged.

We were inspired to do charity work out of a sense of duty and a desire to help, not to fulfil the CIP requirement or earn ECA points.

Over the years, I have become concerned
with the way charities raise funds. Viewers are often asked to SMS in to win a car or a condo.
The sense that they are contributing to charity is absent. Teenagers sometimes ask me to donate to charities not under the umbrella of the Community Chest, and after looking into the matter, I have discovered that up to two-thirds of the funds I give go to operating or administrative
costs.

It has become fashionable and even profitable to run a charity as a business. My first reaction, when I heard how much the CEO of the National Kidney Foundation (NKF) was earning, was to stop donating to the NKF. I was angry that the spirit of charity seemed to have been debased to
fit a business model. I asked myself, why the performance bonus? Is there a link between the amount of funds raised and the bonuses paid to the CEO and staff?

But on deeper reflection, I worried that this would be everyone’s reaction. I began to worry about kidney patients, who can now extend their lives by 20 years or more through kidney dialysis.

In April last year, TODAY reported that the NKF projected a need for $624 million to care for its existing 2,000 patients over the next 10 years — not taking into account the estimated 400 new kidney patients each year.

The NKF must manage this public reaction for the sake of those patients they have worked so hard to serve. More information should be forthcoming, so that the public can make an informed judgment. In the same report, Mr Alwyn Lim, NKF executive committee vice-chairman and finance committee chairman, outlined the breakdown of each dollar donated using information collated in 2002.

He said 56 cents went to the NKF’s beneficiaries and to the administration of its programmes, 29 cents was added to the reserves and 15 cents was used to cover fund-raising expenses. However, he
did not explain how the 56 cents broke down: Did it include staff salaries, performance bonuses and travel expenses?

The NKF must be transparent and address the public’s concerns.

A court battle is simple compared to winning back the hearts and minds of Singaporeans.
For the sake of kidney patients, this other battle must be won.

This article first appeared in TODAY on 14th July 2005

What Hitler Can Teach Our Young

In June, a group of students inappropriately chose Adolf Hitler — Germany’s wartime leader who started World War II and killed six million Jews in Europe — as their group name and idol for a band camp.

Education Minister Tharman Shanmugaratnam felt that the students “were clearly not thinking very hard” and were “clearly unaware of the basic facts of history”. But he also stressed the importance of being open and turning the mistake into a learning experience.

This incident generated interest among my students taking Combined Humanities (History Elective). They are taught that History is not just a collection of facts, dates and places. They are constantly reminded to learn from the past, examine the present and prepare for the future.

After one interesting discussion of Hitler’s role in history, a student emailed me with a “burning question”.

She wrote: “Why doesn’t anyone give Hitler any credit for his determination to fight for Germany? Hitler was a vegetarian, only drank an odd beer or two and never associated himself with venal politicians; but then again, he was without doubt sadistic.” She found it “really interesting just to think about … how driven he was towards his goals. He was a very remarkable speaker and had he been on the right track, wouldn’t he have been able to bring Germany back to power?” She was “dying to know why Hitler resented the Jews so much”. Was there “something more significant” than simple jealousy? Did “some traumatic happening” have a deep impact on him. “I tried reading up. Can’t seem to find any info. Got any idea?” she asked.

There are two possible responses to such comments. Were I interested only in teaching the basic facts of World War II, I would have assigned her more reading material, made her do a research project on Hitler, or sent her to the embassies of Israel or Germany where they are willing to discuss the implications of Hitler’s rule.

By overwhelming her with historical information, I might have hoped she would see the implications and impact of Hitler’s rule.On the other hand, I could also have scolded her for having the audacity to ask such questions, in light of the recent public uproar.

Instead, I praised her — as she had demonstrated that she could think independently, was able to question with reason, and had kept an open mind.
I did, however, also explain to her that we have to examine Hitler’s role in totality: What were the results of his policies and his philosophy? Did
the ends justify the means?

There has been a tectonic shift in the way history
is taught in secondary schools. Students are now trained to question historical fact, examine the sources of historical content for reliability and evaluate the role that historical players like Chairman Mao or Hitler played in history.

One impact of this method of teaching is that students are empowered to question basic historical facts. No longer do they accept history books as the custodians of truth; instead, they will want to seek out the truth for themselves.

If teachers and society do not accept this process of engagement with our youth, if every time students ask uncomfortable questions we shut them up — then they will stop thinking and engaging us.We must allow them to ask searching questions, to challenge conventional ideas; help them discover the difference between truth and propaganda; and guide them gently to the truth through a process of discovery. We have started on the right track to producing a new generation of critical thinkers. Now, what is left is for the older generation to engage the young in
dialogue — and to keep an open mind to the possibility they may just have the answers to the questions we raise.

This article first appeared in TODAY on 16/8/2005

GIVING MUMS A SECOND CHANCE

MY THREE-month-old baby, Anicius, was recently warded at KK Women ’s and Children ’s Hospital, where we came into contact with many student nurses on practical attachment.

One particular nurse caught my attention. She seemed to have more experience, more desire to learn, and was always looking out for patients’ needs. We became acquainted. Jamilah Beelim, 41, had graduated in 1987 with a sociology and economics degree and worked as an administrator.

Later, like many highly educated women, she chose to stay at home to bring up her children. Last year, when her daughters were aged 9 and 14,she decided to embark on a second career as a nurse and was sponsored by the Institute of Mental Health Hospital for a two-year diploma. Several of her classmates, too, one of them with a masters in education, are returning to work after a homebound spell.

As more women become highly educated and enter the workforce, they are faced with this dilemma when they have children: Should they give up their career for the sake of their children?
What about their own needs and dreams? Wouldn’t a maid, childcare centre or grandparents be sufficient? What if they choose to stay at home and miss the boat? Would any employer be willing to employ them when they try to re-enter the work force?

With a host of incentives offered to get more women to give birth, society and employers need to send a positive signal to women – that it is all right to take a few years off to bring their children up.

They should not propagate the view that it is a waste of money and education if a woman stays at home to look after her children. Or that a woman over the age of 40 is “over the hill ” or past her prime for a second chance to re-start her career.

Carrying a child for nine months is the easy part. The real work starts when you bring the child home. A child needs to grow up in an environment where essential values like love, honesty, and self-discipline can be cultured. A maid, no matter how efficient, can never replace the role of a mother.

As the number of working mothers rise, there seem to be more children who are growing up self-centred, demanding instant gratification.

While many factors can contribute to this, I would say one possible reason is that children are brought up by maids who are always at their beck and call. And so children are used to giving orders from a very young age.

I can only wonder about this effect on a whole generation of children. As more Singaporeans become “weekend parents ” (when the weekend is their only interaction time with their children), we should pause and think carefully about the quality of parenting care our children are getting.

Jamilah has no regrets about the choice she made — being there for her children. And she was fortunate enough to be given the chance to re-enter the job market.

Perhaps now would be a good time for Singaporean women to reflect on their roles as the primary care giver in the family.

Would bringing up happy, well adjusted children be their priority in life, or would they be more satisfied with juggling a demanding career, a husband and children?

Can the Singaporean woman be content with being a highly educated housewife for a short period of time?

Or is it time for society to accept the possibility of having a highly educated house-husband bring up children while his wife works?

This article first appeared in TODAY on 12/12/2005

BRIDE FOR A DAY OR WIFE FOR A LIFETIME?

RECENTLY, a friend called and asked me to speak to her grandchild who had run away. She had dropped out of school and was spending most of her time at the arcade. Her divorced parents were at their wits' end.

Another child from a single parent's home is now living in a girl's home because she was caught shoplifting.

While we cannot generalise that all children from broken homes will end up as delinquents, the risk is a serious consideration whenever couples contemplate divorce or separation.

While there are legitimate reasons for divorce — such as if one spouse is abusive or unfaithful — there is also rising concern that more people are getting married and divorced on a moment's whim.

If someone wants to be a taxi driver, he has to undergo training before he is given a licence. He has to know the basic tourist attractions and road names, how to handle passengers and to keep the taxi clean. Similarly, a tour guide is trained before he is licensed.

Upgrading courses are also conducted regularly.

Why is it, then, so simple for one to get a licence to marry? And if an employee is required to go for continuous upgrading throughout his professional life, why is it that a married couple is not required to revitalise and rejuvenate their marriage once they pass a certain number of years?

A friend of mine married her boyfriend at the age of 19 because she found out that she was pregnant with his child. One year later, she divorced him and left the child to be brought up by her parents while she went in search of a new boyfriend.

While in the past, it was expected that a man marry his pregnant girlfriend, the marriage usually worked because there was the network of an extended family to provide the emotional and social support this young couple needed.

Now, because of the predominance of the nuclear family and the stigma of divorce being not what it was in the past, perhaps it's time for society to re-examine the role of a single mother or father.

Two wrongs do not make a right, and forcing someone to marry because of the unborn child is cruel to both the parents and the child. The child could be offered for adoption or the father or mother should bring up the child alone.

Another friend did not do the irresponsible thing — he did not marry his estranged pregnant girlfriend. Instead, he continued to play his role as a father and waited patiently for the right partner to turn up. Six years later, he married someone he felt could provide a secure and safe environment for the child.

While it is impossible to mandate that all couples go for compulsory counselling before a marriage licence is issued, perhaps it would be good for couples to consider why they should take that uncharted step.

There are many reasons why couples choose to walk down the aisle.

It could be that their HDB flat has been built, so they need to get married in a hurry. It could be that the girl is dying to be a bride and so considers the bridegroom as optional extra.

It could also be that both had given in to societal pressure or lack the courage to break up a relationship because everyone was expecting them to tie the knot.

But there is only one reason that will see a marriage through for the long haul — and that is to make the other person happy.

So, let those women who fantasise about being a bride pause and ask: Why must I get married? Do I need to in order to be happy? What is the difference between being a bride for a day and a wife for a lifetime?

If all you can think about is the wedding gown, the flowers and the photo shoots, perhaps you should consider being a bridal model instead — it is less painful to break a professional contract than a marriage contract.

This article first appeared in TODAY on 1st July 2006.

A RITE TYPE OF LOVE

MY husband and I have been married for 18 years as of last Saturday.

I remember that when we were preparing for the wedding, there were many rites and rituals we chose not to follow. Of course, there were a few that we did, to please our parents, such as the wedding dinner and the church ceremony.

But we did not go to the studio to have our wedding portraits taken; neither did I have make-up done a by professional. My wedding gown was hand-sewn by my students and I arranged a simple bunch of yellow lilies tied with a pink ribbon.

For our honeymoon, we backpacked all the way to Bangkok on a shoe-string budget.

Over the years, I have observed that many of my friends have followed many rites and rituals with regard to weddings, the birth of a child, or funerals.

As a family begins to form, family routines usually form, such as going to church on Sunday or going overseas for holidays during June or December.

Sometimes these rituals cost an arm and a leg. But have we ever stopped to think why we spend so much money on them?

While it is important to follow them in order to establish and reaffirm our cultural roots, these rites do not guarantee that the relationships between the participants are functioning or even healthy.

A great wedding does not automatically imply or even assure a great marriage. Yet each year, more brides focus on being a great bride for that one day, instead of being a faithful wife for life.

One of my friends does not have a functional marriage with his wife anymore, yet he dutifully follows the rites and rituals for celebrating the birth of his two daughters.

In the 1940s, Abraham Maslow the psychologist postulated that the most basic of human needs are those of safety and physiological well-being. The next level is the social need. People need to form relationships, to give and receive love, to feel a link with others and to feel a sense of belonging.

If these social needs are met, people can thrive at their optimal level and live life to their full potential.

So what happens when you no longer have a functional relationship between husband and wife, parent and child, or brother and sister?

Many will choose to hide behind these rituals and rites to avoid confronting the truth that they need to work on the relationship. Observing these gives one a false sense of achievement.

It is so much easier to give hongbaos and presents to someone you do not like, than to ask for forgiveness from each other.

Similarly, it is easier to take the wedding photograph than to iron out the nascent problems with your future spouse.

Routines, rites and rituals can never replace the relationships we have with each other. It takes a lot of hard work, to work on a relationship. It requires us to listen to each other and suspend judgment and bias. It demands that we forget ourselves and focus on the other.

Instead of just wanting to have and to hold, we have to learn to give and to serve.


This article first appeared in TODAY on 24th June 2006