Wednesday, August 30, 2006
Monday, August 21, 2006
RICHER BY THE HALF DOZEN
WHEN my mother discovered that I was going to give birth to my sixth child, she started a campaign of convincing me to give up my child for adoption as she judged that our financial resources would not be able to handle another child.
Immediately after I woke up from my Caesarean operation, my mother and two relatives spoke to me in jest about giving my baby to one of the relatives, as the baby would retain the same surname.
It was with utmost difficulty that I maintained my sense of humour.
The other day, as I was out having supper with my husband, I witnessed a pregnant woman feel her baby kicking in her womb. I must be crazy to desire another child, but I miss having an unborn child growing inside me.
In my third trimester, the baby would begin to communicate his needs to me. For example, if I sat in a particular way that made him uncomfortable, he would kick and move until I was in a better position.
Yes, many of my friends are taking bets on when our No 7 will be conceived — or when we will be able to transform our basketball team into a seven-a-side soccer team.
Mother Teresa of Calcutta once said that "it is poverty to decide that a child must die so that you may live as you wish".
Yes, once a child is born, it is difficult to live as I wish. I have always enjoyed travelling and, before I got married, would visit a different country each year. Now, with so many children, I cannot remember the last time I took a holiday.
I had planned to do my Masters 15 years ago when I had just two children. Four more kids later, that hankering after my intellectual dream is still strong.
One day, my eldest child commented that his parents would be very rich if we had just had him as an only child.
Yet, deep down, I know that I would be that much poorer if I were forced to give up any one of my children.
From my teenagers, I learn that there is nothing more important in life than to establish a relationship with another person.
From the baby, I learn that to do something well, I need to focus on a single aim. Watching my baby practise everyday at taking that first step fills me with energy anew to focus on a project at work.
By the baby too, I am reminded that there are still a lot more things in life that I have to discover, and that the joy of discovery is irreplaceable.
From my children, I learn that it is best to teach them only when they are ready to learn. Many parents have robbed their children the joy of learning because they force-feed their kids with all the enrichment courses they themselves wanted when they were young.
At the end of a hard day's work, nothing can replace the sound of small feet crawling with single-mindedness towards you. Except, of course, for the yelp of joy when your own baby recognises you in a sea of strangers.
Will we go for No 7? Yes and No. Yes, because we feel that the age gap between our sixth child and the rest is very wide and a seventh child would be a good playmate and soulmate for him.
No, because I am feeling my age and at this point in time, we feel that another child would stretch our financial resources even further.
Yet we do not use any form of artificial contraceptives like the pill, for health reasons. Neither have we taken up my mum's advice to sterilise ourselves, as we are still open to the gift of another child.
Irresponsible? Irrational? Or just fulfilling a human's highest calling to bring life to the world?
Monday, August 14, 2006
REAL GIFTS OF A ROAD WARRIOR PARENTS
This year's theme for the National Day Parade, "Our Global City, Our Home," forces me to reflect on one aspect of globalisation that often has a silent but salient impact on our future: Our children.
As a result of our effort to embrace globalisation, many of us have to travel overseas often as road warriors. When I travel, I often feel guilty leaving my children behind. I am frequently tempted to buy their permission to go overseas with promises of bringing exotic gifts back.
I know of one road warrior who habitually returns with expensive gifts for his son to make up for his absence from home.
Bringing back gifts per se isn't the problem — it is when we replace or substitute ourselves with gifts that will have an impact on our children. They will end up looking at us as nothing more than a perpetual Santa Claus, and soon they will look forward to our gifts instead of us coming back.
Encouraged to be materialists, they will end up demanding more expensive presents each time we leave. And some of us will find it a convenient and small price to pay to occupy our children's time leaving us — when we get home — alone to rest and recuperate.
How do we get back to focusing on developing our relationships with our children and our spouse, instead of treating them as an optional extra in our life?
I remember once, my husband left 40 handwritten post-it notes with the words "I love you" all over the house for me to discover. Why 40? That was the number of days he was away from home.
When he goes to places where the postal service is not that regular, he would leave letters pre-written before his trip for me to read to the children before they go to sleep.
My husband and I try to take turns to go overseas so that at least one parent is at home with the children. The one who stays at home will have the fun of keeping the memory of the travelling parent alive for them. We'd write letters, make postcards, draw pictures or create gifts for the returning parent.
With Internet messenger, SMS and email, we find it easier to maintain an open channel of communication with our children. Only recently did I learn to use Internet messaging with some difficulty and I discovered a different but instantaneous way of keeping in touch with my children.
Establishing family culture helps our children to stay rooted to the family. Like many in Singapore, my husband and I are working and thus, find it difficult to be with them regularly.
We have often heard that it is not the quantity of time that we spend that is important, but the quality time that we have with them.
But what is quality time?
Spending time at the shopping centre buying more presents, or eating at fancy and expensive restaurants? Yes, these can be instances of quality time as long as our children have our undivided attention.
For us, we prefer alternative rituals like ice cream parties at home, midnight supper walks, or a regular visit to Chinatown where we eat the famous fish porridge.
Whether we are stay-at-home or auto-roaming parents, we have to remember that if we do not act as our children's confidantes, companions and confessors, they will find others to take our place — and we will lose any influence over their behaviour.
But being there for them, in the real sense of the term, is not something one can just suddenly do overnight. It is the little actions we do over a long period of time that add up.
In my course of work as a teacher, I often meet lonely students who long and pine for their parents who are often too busy to spend time with them. Some students end up being withdrawn, some end up finding support and companionship with gangs, while others end up using gifts and money to buy friendship.
As road warrior parents, perhaps it is time to reflect on the type of relationship that we have with our children.
Are we just satisfied with being their ATM? The choice is ours.
The writer has recently taken a tentative step to blog (fohl.blogspot.com) in the hope that it will make her look hip with her teenager children.
As a result of our effort to embrace globalisation, many of us have to travel overseas often as road warriors. When I travel, I often feel guilty leaving my children behind. I am frequently tempted to buy their permission to go overseas with promises of bringing exotic gifts back.
I know of one road warrior who habitually returns with expensive gifts for his son to make up for his absence from home.
Bringing back gifts per se isn't the problem — it is when we replace or substitute ourselves with gifts that will have an impact on our children. They will end up looking at us as nothing more than a perpetual Santa Claus, and soon they will look forward to our gifts instead of us coming back.
Encouraged to be materialists, they will end up demanding more expensive presents each time we leave. And some of us will find it a convenient and small price to pay to occupy our children's time leaving us — when we get home — alone to rest and recuperate.
How do we get back to focusing on developing our relationships with our children and our spouse, instead of treating them as an optional extra in our life?
I remember once, my husband left 40 handwritten post-it notes with the words "I love you" all over the house for me to discover. Why 40? That was the number of days he was away from home.
When he goes to places where the postal service is not that regular, he would leave letters pre-written before his trip for me to read to the children before they go to sleep.
My husband and I try to take turns to go overseas so that at least one parent is at home with the children. The one who stays at home will have the fun of keeping the memory of the travelling parent alive for them. We'd write letters, make postcards, draw pictures or create gifts for the returning parent.
With Internet messenger, SMS and email, we find it easier to maintain an open channel of communication with our children. Only recently did I learn to use Internet messaging with some difficulty and I discovered a different but instantaneous way of keeping in touch with my children.
Establishing family culture helps our children to stay rooted to the family. Like many in Singapore, my husband and I are working and thus, find it difficult to be with them regularly.
We have often heard that it is not the quantity of time that we spend that is important, but the quality time that we have with them.
But what is quality time?
Spending time at the shopping centre buying more presents, or eating at fancy and expensive restaurants? Yes, these can be instances of quality time as long as our children have our undivided attention.
For us, we prefer alternative rituals like ice cream parties at home, midnight supper walks, or a regular visit to Chinatown where we eat the famous fish porridge.
Whether we are stay-at-home or auto-roaming parents, we have to remember that if we do not act as our children's confidantes, companions and confessors, they will find others to take our place — and we will lose any influence over their behaviour.
But being there for them, in the real sense of the term, is not something one can just suddenly do overnight. It is the little actions we do over a long period of time that add up.
In my course of work as a teacher, I often meet lonely students who long and pine for their parents who are often too busy to spend time with them. Some students end up being withdrawn, some end up finding support and companionship with gangs, while others end up using gifts and money to buy friendship.
As road warrior parents, perhaps it is time to reflect on the type of relationship that we have with our children.
Are we just satisfied with being their ATM? The choice is ours.
The writer has recently taken a tentative step to blog (fohl.blogspot.com) in the hope that it will make her look hip with her teenager children.
Monday, July 24, 2006
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
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
Saturday, July 22, 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
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
Thursday, July 13, 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
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
Friday, July 7, 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.
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
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
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
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