I heard something really scary today and suddenly I didn't want to think. My mind darted to and fro, back and forth, refusing to linger for more than a moment, and then suddenly it stopped. Void. Bewildered.
Lord, make no bad happen. And so I proclaim in Jesus' name.
Amen.
Friday, January 06, 2012
Saturday, December 17, 2011
One year on
Hey Eggy, guess what? HUGE things happened on Thursday. The lifeblood of the MRT went down. Marina Bay to Braddell in both directions. It was all over the news, every one talked and ranted about it. Only people denying the severity is SMRT.
Then of course, there I was, feverish the whole day, trying to find an opportunity to slip home earlier. But everything had to fall in line nicely right in front of me. When I finally had the go ahead to tap my access card out, our first world country's public transport system crashed.
One year on, both events I had first person encounter in made front page headlines. What a way to remember you.
Just to let you know, which you already do, everyone here at home misses you.
Then of course, there I was, feverish the whole day, trying to find an opportunity to slip home earlier. But everything had to fall in line nicely right in front of me. When I finally had the go ahead to tap my access card out, our first world country's public transport system crashed.
One year on, both events I had first person encounter in made front page headlines. What a way to remember you.
Just to let you know, which you already do, everyone here at home misses you.
Saturday, December 03, 2011
What makes a teacher
I remember ever telling this MP how important it was for secondary school students to like their teacher, and very literally, I saw my words fall flat off her.
It might seem like it's pandering to the immaturity of adolescence, but how many actually realise that secondary school students liking their teacher has nothing to do with superficial popularity. It's simply about being a good teacher.
By the nature of the job, a person is institutionalised as a teacher when he or she is certified to be better versed in the syllabus than the receivers of the education. But it does not mean that the students are innately dependent on you because of that. I myself had deliberately slept through every biology lesson in secondary four, and did the learning independently at home. (But I started the self-studying late and only managed an A2. Bleah.)
Teaching is not just about delivering the syllabus, it is also about being a mentor to the students who have been entrusted to you. It's really not about calling their parents when they didn't do their homework (seriously, this is secondary school), neither is it about yelling and thinking they are hopeless at the slightest issue, nor is it about talking down and expecting to be accorded respect because of your position. Also, it is not about becoming one of them.
It's about being that guiding light they can turn to.
If we were to just pause and reflect on our school days, I think it wouldn't be difficult for us to point out what about that teacher makes us naturally want to sit up and listen.
It's the teacher's genuine heart to nurture you.
Knowing the syllabus is a given; that is what you are trained and paid to do. Being a mentor, is what so many in the teaching profession have neglected.
Sixteen turning seventeen is a chaotic age of curiosity and uncertainty. Students are very quickly moving into a different phase in life, and everything to them is simultaneously possible and unreachable. Can you imagine how much the teacher who sees them more often than their parents can influence! Even more so when you are with at-risk children, how pivotal you can be to stop problems before they take root.
It is true that a lot of this is contingent on the student's own attitude. But even the best student with the most commendable attitude would not choose a mentor who cares only about the textbook. Elitist, authoritarian and downright naive teachers are, needless to say, out of the question.
Conversely, it is also true that there are too many students out there who gave up on their studies because their teachers first gave up on them.
Granted, there are many teachers who wholeheartedly want to groom the students in their care, and I give them my most heartfelt salute. And for the few I have had the great fortune to have met, thank you for teaching me what I really need in life.
But having been taught for 18 years, and having accessed the staff room for 3 months, and increasingly knowing more who teach, I am finding myself meeting a majority who misinterpret the teaching vocation. And I really shudder when I look at them and wonder "Will this by the teacher of my kids?"
Perhaps we all need to stop and ask ourselves, are you who you want to teach your children?
It might seem like it's pandering to the immaturity of adolescence, but how many actually realise that secondary school students liking their teacher has nothing to do with superficial popularity. It's simply about being a good teacher.
By the nature of the job, a person is institutionalised as a teacher when he or she is certified to be better versed in the syllabus than the receivers of the education. But it does not mean that the students are innately dependent on you because of that. I myself had deliberately slept through every biology lesson in secondary four, and did the learning independently at home. (But I started the self-studying late and only managed an A2. Bleah.)
Teaching is not just about delivering the syllabus, it is also about being a mentor to the students who have been entrusted to you. It's really not about calling their parents when they didn't do their homework (seriously, this is secondary school), neither is it about yelling and thinking they are hopeless at the slightest issue, nor is it about talking down and expecting to be accorded respect because of your position. Also, it is not about becoming one of them.
It's about being that guiding light they can turn to.
If we were to just pause and reflect on our school days, I think it wouldn't be difficult for us to point out what about that teacher makes us naturally want to sit up and listen.
It's the teacher's genuine heart to nurture you.
Knowing the syllabus is a given; that is what you are trained and paid to do. Being a mentor, is what so many in the teaching profession have neglected.
Sixteen turning seventeen is a chaotic age of curiosity and uncertainty. Students are very quickly moving into a different phase in life, and everything to them is simultaneously possible and unreachable. Can you imagine how much the teacher who sees them more often than their parents can influence! Even more so when you are with at-risk children, how pivotal you can be to stop problems before they take root.
It is true that a lot of this is contingent on the student's own attitude. But even the best student with the most commendable attitude would not choose a mentor who cares only about the textbook. Elitist, authoritarian and downright naive teachers are, needless to say, out of the question.
Conversely, it is also true that there are too many students out there who gave up on their studies because their teachers first gave up on them.
Granted, there are many teachers who wholeheartedly want to groom the students in their care, and I give them my most heartfelt salute. And for the few I have had the great fortune to have met, thank you for teaching me what I really need in life.
But having been taught for 18 years, and having accessed the staff room for 3 months, and increasingly knowing more who teach, I am finding myself meeting a majority who misinterpret the teaching vocation. And I really shudder when I look at them and wonder "Will this by the teacher of my kids?"
Perhaps we all need to stop and ask ourselves, are you who you want to teach your children?
Sunday, November 27, 2011
What makes the city different?
How is it that if you were to be plucked from where you were and placed somewhere in Singapore, you would instantly know if you were in the city or in the heartlands?
Is it because of the people, the buildings, or the roads?
What makes the city so instantly distinguishable from the suburban heartlands?
Is it the people who are more often dressed in smart collars and shoes? Is it the fast walking pace down the busy streets?
Or maybe it is the buildings that are taller than your eyes can see? Or the glass and steel that make every building shine through the skies?
Could it be the roads that wind into every conceivable space? Or the cars that flow through in an endless stream?
But, do not the people rushing in the city first come from the heartlands? Are not the buildings all climbing higher and higher? Do not the roads grow even thinner, longer and denser as we stretch out into the heartlands?
How could it be that we can immediately identify?
How is it that we just know?
Maybe, it's not any of those.
Maybe, it's us.
Maybe, because we are home.
Thursday, October 13, 2011
Self-Help Groups in Singapore
I was trying to finish up "The Fortune at the Bottom of the Pyramid" the past two days, when I came across, again, the story on ICICI Bank's efforts in granting Indian villagers access to micro finance and credit.
Out of the many, well, superfluous, cases the book presented, and the idealistic tone the pages were soaked in, this case stood out to me as something practical and, now that I know the word, sustainable.
I used to think that any efforts in alleviating poverty necessitated donations and compassion. And while I found it a noble calling, I often had a nagging sense that charitable efforts were an end in itself, and from all perspectives, uncertain.
Forgive my naivety, for I was not more than a teenager when those thoughts first took root.
ICICI's story was what made me stop and reflect.
Central to their outreach efforts was this concept of Self-Help Groups (SHG). It is somewhat similar to the neighbourhood tontines Singapore used to have in the 80s, but with the additional backing and oversight of a bank. In these groups of 20, women were pooled together by the bank to contribute regular amounts to a group savings account. They had their own internal systems which pressured members' attendance at their monthly meetings, timely contribution to the savings account, and collectively decided on issues such as the allocation of funds to a certain member for pre-specified emergency needs.
Of course, the process carries much more complexity than the quick summary I have given. The amount of local knowledge needed to select suitable candidates for one is an aspect that cannot be easily captured in quick writing.
What sprung out to me in this endeavor is the bank's initiative to build a culture of saving in rural India. ICICI outlined this in 3 steps:
1. Learn to save.
2. Learn to lend what you have saved (referring to the SHG as a whole).
3. Learn to borrow responsibly.
That, is banking on the right foot.
And I could not help but wonder if I were to bring the SHG idea into Singapore, what would it be?
In our context, I feel that the government's commitment would be key to the success of this idea. So instead of having a bank as the main organiser, it would be a government body supervising the project, with the partnership of a local bank.
Similar to India, the SHGs will be formed based on proximity, that is, an SHG is made up of people from the same neighbourhood, and filled with people who have similar experience in poverty.
Granted, I think most Singaporeans know how to save. But what I like from the SHG is the use of "social collateral" to push for savings, and this social collateral is what I think many of the poor in Singapore could have. With the way it is structured, the SHG becomes somewhat of a support-cum-pressure group, acting as a constant reminder they are not alone and that there are people walking the same road as them.
And I will take this further, and have an insurance company cover these SHGs with Group Health and Group Life Insurance. My aim here, is such that any one member's sudden medical emergency will not adversely affect the group as a whole, and to lower the premiums so that it is cheaper than any individual who buys it alone. Because we are talking about the poorest of the poor here in Singapore, government subsidies must also kick in quickly and efficiently when health emergencies arrive (which is why the state plays a big role in this adaptation).
The book also mentioned how the women took out uncollaterized loans from ICICI after they have proved their mettle to save to make improvements to their village. Since HDB estates are well-charted for development, there is no much need for such community projects. In that case, my idea for any surplus (meaning any amount left over after adequately covering for all emergencies) would be for small treats to every member's household, such as a top-up to their water and electricity supplies, another fan for each house, or bread and Milo for every family.
The cost of living and cost of business has made the government paramount to any effort to help the poorest group of people in Singapore. We don't have a vast market of untapped bottom of pyramid consumers that allows for an exponential growth of SHGs, something that ICICI has also stated is necessary for profits to be made. And we don't have goods or space that are cheap enough so that a small bank loan is enough to help someone start a small business and thereafter increase his income.
Singapore, has become too rich to afford that.
But now that we know the government's importance in helping the low-income people, can we be sure that the wards that did not vote for white-on-white would get the necessary assistance as well?
(Think: lift upgrading, communal space rental, People's Association, grassroots advisers)
Out of the many, well, superfluous, cases the book presented, and the idealistic tone the pages were soaked in, this case stood out to me as something practical and, now that I know the word, sustainable.
I used to think that any efforts in alleviating poverty necessitated donations and compassion. And while I found it a noble calling, I often had a nagging sense that charitable efforts were an end in itself, and from all perspectives, uncertain.
Forgive my naivety, for I was not more than a teenager when those thoughts first took root.
ICICI's story was what made me stop and reflect.
Central to their outreach efforts was this concept of Self-Help Groups (SHG). It is somewhat similar to the neighbourhood tontines Singapore used to have in the 80s, but with the additional backing and oversight of a bank. In these groups of 20, women were pooled together by the bank to contribute regular amounts to a group savings account. They had their own internal systems which pressured members' attendance at their monthly meetings, timely contribution to the savings account, and collectively decided on issues such as the allocation of funds to a certain member for pre-specified emergency needs.
Of course, the process carries much more complexity than the quick summary I have given. The amount of local knowledge needed to select suitable candidates for one is an aspect that cannot be easily captured in quick writing.
What sprung out to me in this endeavor is the bank's initiative to build a culture of saving in rural India. ICICI outlined this in 3 steps:
1. Learn to save.
2. Learn to lend what you have saved (referring to the SHG as a whole).
3. Learn to borrow responsibly.
That, is banking on the right foot.
And I could not help but wonder if I were to bring the SHG idea into Singapore, what would it be?
In our context, I feel that the government's commitment would be key to the success of this idea. So instead of having a bank as the main organiser, it would be a government body supervising the project, with the partnership of a local bank.
Similar to India, the SHGs will be formed based on proximity, that is, an SHG is made up of people from the same neighbourhood, and filled with people who have similar experience in poverty.
Granted, I think most Singaporeans know how to save. But what I like from the SHG is the use of "social collateral" to push for savings, and this social collateral is what I think many of the poor in Singapore could have. With the way it is structured, the SHG becomes somewhat of a support-cum-pressure group, acting as a constant reminder they are not alone and that there are people walking the same road as them.
And I will take this further, and have an insurance company cover these SHGs with Group Health and Group Life Insurance. My aim here, is such that any one member's sudden medical emergency will not adversely affect the group as a whole, and to lower the premiums so that it is cheaper than any individual who buys it alone. Because we are talking about the poorest of the poor here in Singapore, government subsidies must also kick in quickly and efficiently when health emergencies arrive (which is why the state plays a big role in this adaptation).
The book also mentioned how the women took out uncollaterized loans from ICICI after they have proved their mettle to save to make improvements to their village. Since HDB estates are well-charted for development, there is no much need for such community projects. In that case, my idea for any surplus (meaning any amount left over after adequately covering for all emergencies) would be for small treats to every member's household, such as a top-up to their water and electricity supplies, another fan for each house, or bread and Milo for every family.
The cost of living and cost of business has made the government paramount to any effort to help the poorest group of people in Singapore. We don't have a vast market of untapped bottom of pyramid consumers that allows for an exponential growth of SHGs, something that ICICI has also stated is necessary for profits to be made. And we don't have goods or space that are cheap enough so that a small bank loan is enough to help someone start a small business and thereafter increase his income.
Singapore, has become too rich to afford that.
But now that we know the government's importance in helping the low-income people, can we be sure that the wards that did not vote for white-on-white would get the necessary assistance as well?
(Think: lift upgrading, communal space rental, People's Association, grassroots advisers)
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