This is what orientation should be! A series of lecture-style briefings on everything you need to know about being a student in that particular institution.
Not a bunch of silly games and mindless cheering which achieve nothing except make everyone fall sick from excessive laryngeal utilisation, physical exertion, and prolonged close contact with a large number of people.
There will always be those who enjoy such "fun" orientation camps but I definitely am not one of them. That's why I didn't sign myself up for any.
Instead, I derived great satisfaction from the two days of orientation talks that were held on 26 and 27 July.
The topics covered ran the gamut, from bidding for modules to graduation requirements, library resources and even fire safety.
Did you know that a standard American living room needs only 48 seconds to get completely engulfed in flames due to a small spark in the lighting on a Christmas tree? I didn't either, until the presenter for the fire safety talk showed this video.
I don't have the faintest idea what the point was in telling us that. Maybe to demonstrate the awesome destructive power of fire so that we'll pay more heed to the danger?
Anyway, between the sessions, there was time for me to check out the nearest canteen, called The Deck. I had my first taste of sustenance from it as an official NUS student: a cup of fresh pure apple juice ($1.50). Delicious and reasonably priced!
I really liked the orientation talks. Much of the information can easily be found online but there's nothing like hearing it directly from the people in charge themselves.
Now I just have to anxiously await the results of my Qualifying English Test (QET) and hope I don't get forced into taking extra remedial modules... Then the excitement begins when the bidding exercise opens!
What would life be without the rose-coloured tint of nostalgia?
I may not even be 20 yet, but I'm certainly old enough to have experienced lots of things that are now consigned to the history books.
And being the glutton that I am, I thought I'd compile a listicle of foodie memories that I particularly treasure from my early years.
Let's get into it, shall we?
#1 KFC @ Kallang had free flow of soft drinks
I used to have horse-riding therapy at the Riding for the Disabled Association (Singapore), and after the sessions my parents and I would often go to the KFC branch near the National Stadium for dinner. That outlet was unique because it was housed in a standalone building of its own, with an attached open-air carpark and drive-through counter. But the best part was it had free flow soft drinks! It doesn't have that anymore though. Nowadays, finding a food joint offering free flow soft drinks makes me want to dance a little jig because it's so rare!
#2 Hans @ Pickering Street
Although I didn't eat at the recently defunct flagship store of the Hans Cafe franchise very much, it still holds good memories for me. Their Hainanese pork chop and curry chicken were the stuff of dreams, and strolling around the area and seeing how conservation shophouses and modern glass structures meshed together into a harmonious explosion of aesthetic wonder provided such a great complement to the whole ambiance.
#3 Mussel Guys @ VivoCity
When I was in primary and secondary school, which by the way was an extremely long time ago, VivoCity was my favourite post-exam hangout spot. On a couple of occasions, my father took me to eat at this small casual-dining restaurant called The Mussel Guys. The food there was comforting and I remember they had a killer rendang dish, as well as a lip-smacking lobster bisque. Sitting in front of the full-height glass windows, enjoying the view of Sentosa without having to go outside into the afternoon sun... That's my definition of a perfectly relaxing day out.
#4 Farms
Going even further back, to my time in kindergarten, I recall going on a field trip to the local farms around the vicinity of Lim Chu Kang. We visited the quail farm and Hay Dairies goat farm. At the quail farm, I sampled some quails' eggs and a herbal quail soup that was so delicious I went back for seconds (there was more than enough because my classmates all recoiled at the taste of the soup). And at Hay Dairies I began my love affair with goats' milk that continues until today (I benefited again from the squeamishness of my peers as I got to claim all their unwanted milk). Unfortunately, the quail farm was closed to the public after the emergence of bird flu, and I will soon no longer be able to buy local goats' milk, due to the government's utterly heinous, loathsome and despicable plan to bulldoze all the farms to make way for more housing to accommodate foreigners we don't actually need, and more training grounds for their beloved white-elephant excuse for an armed forces. (drops mic, steps off soapbox)
#5 Buffets had fewer strings attached
It seems very common now for buffet restaurants to impose all sorts of terms and conditions such as time limits. I even saw an advertisement on Facebook the other day in which a Japanese buffet restaurant touted its special offer for our 52nd National Day, boasting free flow alcoholic and non-alcoholic beverages... for the first 52 minutes of your meal. How corny is that! Back when I was a kid, a buffet was a buffet. Pay one price, sit there and stuff your face until nothing else can go in. Why do you have to go and make things so complicated? (Avril Lavigne, 2002)
The sad truth of the F&B scene in Singapore is that small operators come and go and even the big companies have to tighten their belts every now and then in response to high rentals and labour costs. So uncovering a little gem of a foodie paradise in your neighbourhood can sometimes prove to be a dangerous game. Who knows whether the place will survive a few months down the road? It's quite likely that it'll close down after a short while, leaving you tearfully distraught and questioning the meaning of your existence in this world.
On the flip side, there's always ample opportunity for new entrants to the market, or even for old friends to make their triumphant returns. I'm too young to have eaten at A&W before they left Singapore, but now they're coming back I'll get to try it!
As some of my regular readers may know, I have an interest in the field of communications and intend to further my studies in that area. I plan to get a job in the industry too, after graduating from university.
So I thought in this post I would talk a bit about online etiquette. This is something that I think is quite lacking, not only in Singapore but all over the internet in general.
As we all know, technology has made radical changes in the way we live our lives, and will continue to do so. Of importance to the communications practitioner is how it has transformed the way we transfer information, interact with one another, and air our opinions in the public sphere.
Social media platforms like Facebook and Twitter are no doubt blessings in many ways. For example, in the context of Singapore politics, alternative points of view which may have previously been easily censored by the establishment can now be quickly and widely distributed through Facebook sharing. This has resulted in an unprecedented pushing of the "OB markers", such that freedom of expression and room for debate do exist to a certain degree today. In order to avoid being left behind, or worse, labelled as blatant state-controlled propaganda mouthpieces, mainstream media outlets like The Straits Times have taken care to present both sides when discussing issues of national importance such as the Little India riot (Kaur, Tan, & Dutta, 2016). This demonstrates the power of social media. Besides breaking down barriers and opening up taboo topics, it takes the lead over traditional media sources in charting the future direction of discourse and the exchange of ideas.
However, there is a dark side to this unfettered ability to speak one's mind for the world to see. The convenience of typing out messages on the go, coupled with the anonymity afforded by the virtual space, has made it more tempting than ever to be abusive towards others. Unfortunately, this causes levels of antisocial behaviour that are unacceptably high.
Flaming is a word that has taken on a completely different meaning in the modern times. It used to conjure images of things burning, such as a house on fire or a juicy beef patty on the grill. But now it connotes hate and anger directed at another person, brought to life as a stream of vitriol, typically delivered by a set of fingertips dancing across a keyboard in a dreadful rhythm.
Very often, it is easy to forget that on the other end of the connection lies a living, breathing human being just like us. As a participant in Mishna, Saini, and Solomon (2009) said: "... it might be easier to (say more hurtful comments) because you do not see how much they are hurt by it.”
The problem is even worse for service providers, companies and organisations that have a presence on social media. Because of their "non-human" appearance, frustrated customers and members of the public do not hesitate to hurl torrents of frightful language at them. What everyone fails to realise is that behind every Page is an administrator or group of administrators. Yes! People, as in actual humans, do go through those messages, and feel the pain from them.
I wish people would be more civilised on the internet. The golden rule
"Treat others as you want to be treated" applies to our dealings online
as well. Before pressing Send on anything, put yourself in the shoes of your counterparty. If you were them, would the message bring about negative emotions? If so, think about how you can phrase your message in a more constructive manner. Robust arguments are always welcome as long as they are conducted in an orderly fashion. That means no personal attacks, swearing, or irrelevant statements.
And please, have a little sympathy for administrators of organisational social media accounts. I have seen first-hand how that job wears people down mentally so bad that it starts to cause their physical health to deteriorate too. They have to be on alert 24/7 thanks to the omnipresence of social media, and constantly walk on eggshells as one wrong move could result in a massive public relations disaster. Hate-filled messages just add insult to injury and are totally unnecessary.
Of course you can give negative feedback about an organisation, but do it with tactful diplomacy. Instead of saying "Your staff's attitude sucks. You are a useless piece of sh*t organisation! Just close down already.", say something like "I was disappointed with the level of service your staff provided. Their dour faces were unpleasant to look at and ruined the ambiance. Perhaps you could consider sending them for some customer service training." Notice how the latter feedback pointed out the problem specifically, and suggested steps for improvement. The former was just insulting.
Given my career aspirations, I take pains to be nice when corresponding with organisations online, as I know that one day, I might be the one on the opposite side of the conversation. So when I am finished talking to a particular organisation for the time being, I always make it a point to thank the person behind the account. Like I said earlier, the work is not easy, so if I can bring a smile to that person's face with a few extra words of appreciation and encouragement, why not? I would certainly love receiving such a message if our roles were reversed.
Our actions online have a very real impact in the offline world. We may not see it and its effects may not be immediate, but believe me when I say it is there. People have lost their lives because of events that happened on the internet. Social media has so much potential for good... But it can also be used for evil.
Which side will you stand on?
References:
Kaur, S., Tan, N., &
Dutta, M. J. (2016). Media, migration and politics: The coverage of the
Little India Riot in The Straits Times in Singapore. Journal of Creative Communications, 11(1), 27-43.
Mishna, F., Saini, M., & Solomon, S. (2009). Ongoing and online: Children and youth's perceptions of cyber bullying. Children and Youth Services Review, 31(12), 1222-1228.
Over the years, various people have told me that my life is very interesting and inspirational, and encouraged me to write a book about myself.
But don't hold your breath, because I have no plans to do so anytime soon.
I'd rather stick to blogging like this. There's less pressure to produce content fast enough to meet deadlines while maintaining quality, because the way I blog now is quite casual. I write whenever I want to write and I write about whatever I want to write.
Getting a book published is a whole different ball game. The first challenge would be finding a publisher willing to give me a chance. Then I'll have to contend with numerous editors and sub-editors breathing down my neck constantly. And once the book has crept through to the finishing line, it'll need to stand up for itself in the open market.
Why put myself through the stress?
Quite frankly, the thought of writing an entire book about myself both bores and scares me in turn. I don't think my life is THAT exciting, that people will actually pay money to read about it. I certainly wouldn't pay a virus to buy a biography of someone like me. An ex-soldier who fought in Afghanistan, a famous footballer or singer, yes. But not just any-old-body whose only claim to uniqueness is the fact that he has some exotic disease.
The beauty of writing blog posts is that they are short and each revolve around a different topic. It never gets stale for me because I'm always writing about something new. A book, on the other hand, is a very long piece of writing about the same thing. How painful is that!
I've read biographies by other disabled people and boy were they excellent home remedies for insomnia. The trouble is that disabled people are often held up as figures of inspiration. So when disabled people write their life stories, they play up the element of inspiring-ness, because that's what the public wants to see, and that's what sells more copies.
Hey, don't get me wrong. I love money as much as the next guy. But I'm
not going to fleece people out of their hard-earned money to line my own
pockets by selling them some cock-and-bull story that's 10% truth and
90% drama.
I'm not about to pander to anyone's fancies. Maybe people do derive inspiration from observing the goings-on in my life. That's cool and they are perfectly welcome to continue. I draw the line at the point where I actually start inducing people to be inspired through my writing.
My writing in this blog aims to entertain. Above all, I want people to read my blog and have a good time. Maybe they'll laugh, maybe they'll cry, maybe they'll learn something new. But most importantly, I hope they will be intrigued and enjoy their experience with my blog.
Preaching has never been on the agenda, and it never will be.
It's official: Wayne Rooney has gone back to his boyhood club Everton, leaving Manchester United after a hugely successful 13-year spell.
Over the past few months it was looking more and more inevitable that Rooney would leave United. He was frozen out of the first team and his lack of playing time at club level was causing him to be left out of the England squad too. To make matters worse, he was supposedly the captain of both England and United, but often found himself on the bench or at home on matchdays. What a blow that must've been to his confidence, and his reputation.
It was said that Rooney's footballing powers were on the Wayne (wane), but I think he just wasn't being given the chance to prove otherwise. Granted, as he aged, he lost his pace and sharpness in front of goal, but maturity and experience brought him the gift of intelligence and an eye for a pass. During Moyes' tenure when Rooney sometimes played in a deeper midfield position, numerous defences fell prey to his 50-yard cross-field diagonal high balls. He was reinventing himself as a string-puller, teaching himself to unlock backlines by spraying killer passes out wide and behind the fullbacks.
Then he wasn't allowed to play anymore.
I don't know why van Gaal and Mourinho gradually relegated Rooney to the sidelines but I feel he was hard done by. He has a lot left to give. That's my opinion anyway. Admittedly, I am a Rooney fan.
When the transfer was confirmed, I got a bit distressed. All my football-watching life, Rooney has been a Manchester United player. He's scored loads of goals, setting records and contributing to the club winning league title after league title. I've adorned my bedroom walls with his pictures as adoring little boys do the world over, and named a pet hamster after him. I cheered my voice hoarse as the ball left his boot and hit the net, game in and game out. And I felt the pain in my heart when he seemingly broke his metatarsal again in 2010, relief flooding in when it was revealed to be a less serious ankle ligament injury instead.
Now that's he's gone, I'm torn. When Everton play against United next season, I'll probably abstain from supporting either team out of deference to my childhood idol.
It's the least he deserves. Since United won't show him any respect, I shall do it on my own.
I logged in to my blog just now and my eyes almost boggled out of my head.
My view numbers were through the roof!
Leading the charge was my post on 7 July about why you should not join the early childhood industry. As of the time of this writing, it has accumulated almost 50 views. To real bloggers, those are rookie statistics, but to me they are amazing. I'm more accustomed to seeing single-digit counts.
My other posts benefited from the popularity of the early childhood article too. My Independence Day post breached the 10-view mark, and all the rest had a couple of views more than before.
From my back-end side, I can access some data on where the views are coming from. I was delighted to see that people from as far afield as Australia, India, Germany, France, Sri Lanka, and the Philippines had visited my blog. But it was in the section detailing the referring URLs that I found the key to my blog's sudden success.
I recently started a Twitter account. Regular readers of this blog will know that I'll be entering the university soon and intend to study Communications and New Media. My decision to get onto Twitter was born out of the realisation that it would be horribly ironic if I were to ostensibly be a student and perhaps even an eventual practitioner of new media technology while not being adept at using such a major new media platform. Previously I had avoided Twitter as I didn't believe that anything useful could come out of 140 characters. However, I now realise that 140 characters is enough for effective communication as long as messages are crafted to be concise. Indeed, using Twitter is great for developing good writing habits as it forces you to think long and hard while trying to get your point across within the limit. Do you really need that word? When in doubt, cut it out.
The other day while scrolling through my Twitter feed, I came across a picture of a funny typo error that a preschool staff had made in a letter meant for parents. I retweeted the picture with a comment that the teacher must've been tired and fed up with her life, and a link to my blog post about the dark side of the early childhood industry.
Most of the recent traffic to my blog came from Twitter and I believe this Tweet was responsible. Unlike my Facebook account, my Twitter and Instagram are not tightly secured as they don't have flexible privacy settings and locking them up defeats the purpose of having them in the first place. So everyone can see my Tweets. I think somehow people did, and clicked through to my blog.
There was also a secondary effect from Facebook. My Tweets are set to automatically publish to my Facebook too, so the link to my early childhood post appeared on my Facebook as well. My mother reshared the link to her own Facebook and it was seen by her network of friends. This further boosted the reach of the post to a wider audience, including some of her schoolmates who have since moved overseas.
It was certainly a pleasant surprise getting those numbers but I'm keeping both feet planted firmly on the ground. Realistically speaking, unless I repeatedly pull the same stunt of putting links on Twitter, I'm not going to be able to sustain such high viewership statistics for long. Things will simply go back to the way they were before, with each post getting the baseline of around 3 to 4 views.
And that's okay with me. This blog is just an outlet for my itch to write. I don't earn money from it so there's no urgency to increase my site visits. Of course it's always better when people read what I write, and the relative "fame" was nice while it lasted. But I'll keep writing regardless, because it brings me a sense of satisfaction and fulfilment, never mind the numbers.
For me it is. But not in the way most people expect.
You see, generally speaking, when people think of money and happiness, there are two main philosophies. The first is a blanket NO. Money can't buy happiness. End of story.
The second belief feels that money buys material items which in turn bring about happiness. For example, I can buy an iPhone and that makes me happy.
A few more enlightened people realise that spending money on experiences rather than objects brings about more happiness. For instance, a nice dinner at a restaurant makes me more happy than if I had used the same money to buy a branded handbag. This is because experiences create positive memories, which you can look back on and derive satisfaction from. In contrast, coveted objects do produce a burst of joy when first attained, but the effect is temporary and wears off quickly, leaving you to chase after the next coveted item on your wanted list. It's a vicious circle which sucks away huge amounts of money and energy with little reward.
But I find greatest happiness in spending my money on others. I'm not the only one too, because I remember reading some research articles back during my poly days that found this to be true. (It wasn't really my area of interest so there'll be no long-winded explanations here, unlike some of my previous posts where I elaborated on concepts like stereotypes and heuristics.)
My family has a very poor attitude towards gift-giving. If you've ever received a gift from us, I'm sorry to have to break this news to you but it was probably a re-gift. Basically, we got a present from someone else, stored it in a musty corner of the house for a few years, then palmed it off on you.
That is, of course, unless the gift is from me specifically. In that case, it's sincere. It is new and I bought it just for you. There are times when I give away things that I don't want for myself, but I always declare it up front. I will NEVER pass off a piece of old junk as a gift.
I believe in the "gift of giving". During the Christmas season last year, I wrote a Facebook post about it. I've reproduced the post verbatim below:
This
post will probably draw flak from many people, including the ones
closest to me. But I want to express my opinion on a hot-button topic of
the day: gifting. Christmas is a wonderful time of the year
indeed, when lights and decorations adorn the streets, cheerful carols
serenade shoppers, and we look forward to catching up with friends and
family. Unfortunately, it also comes with another "obligation" (note my
use of double quotation marks) - gift-giving. This is an issue
which seems to divide people. Some loathe it and view it as a waste of
money and time, and may resort to tactics such as regifting, which is
recycling gifts they received earlier as gifts for others. Or they may
even excuse themselves from gifting altogether. The two main
justifications these people have are that: 1) Christmas should be about
the relationships we share with our loved ones and not about material
things, or 2) Christmas marks the (supposed) birth of Jesus and we
should respect this original reason for the season instead of being
influenced by the modern "commercialised" version of Christmas.
Others perceive Christmas a different way. They buy new items as
presents, and distribute them without a hint of reluctance. Shopping for
gifts is not seen as a chore... it might even be a delight. These
people are by no means shopaholics or spendthrifts. They lavish generous
amounts of money but only on items that they have considered very
carefully and are reasonably confident that the recipient will like.
Of course, there is a third group of people. This small minority
consists of the "misfits" who cannot be slotted nicely into the two
groups above. An obvious example is those who run up a huge debt on
presents at the end of every year, but the things they buy are
completely random in nature. It is evident that no effort was put into
choosing the gifts, and when the counter-parties open the wrappers, they
are not excited by whatever they see. I will not attempt an
argumentative essay on the benefits and drawbacks of each approach, but
my personal stand is that gifting is not the monster that some make it
out to be. Have you heard of the "gift of giving"? It is defined in many
ways, but I explain it as the joy you feel when you give someone
something they really like, and see their faces light up. This is
something truly special, and I love receiving this gift of giving. Which
is why, whenever I can afford it, I buy things for other people.
Friends, colleagues, close family members. Recently, my auntie gave me
$50 in cash. I could have bought myself a lot of potato chips and Pepsi
with that amount of money, but instead I spent all of it on presents for
my close friends in the office. The excitement of going online,
thinking about what each of them like and searching for the relevant
products, the experience of going shopping for the presents, the
anticipation of wrapping them and bringing them to work, the
satisfaction of hearing the "I like this! It is so cute!" can all be
encapsulated in that one short phrase: the gift of giving. The
great thing about the gift of giving is that once you start to see it
this way, Christmas gifting stops becoming a compulsory ritual to be
dreaded, and becomes a fun occasion to look forward to. But the gift of
giving is a finicky creature. Certain conditions must be met before it
will come out. For one, the gift must be sincere and given
wholeheartedly. This means that if so much as an ounce of grudging is in
your heart, the gift of giving will remain in hiding. Furthermore, some
prior effort must have gone into the gift. This does not mean that you
have to wrap the presents in an elaborate way. Rather, it refers to the
thought processes you went through when selecting the gifts. Did you
palm off this item onto the other person because it was there in your
storeroom gathering dust, or will the person actually derive pleasure
from the item? What the gift of giving is not? It is not a
replacement for relationships. In fact, it is a tool to show how much
you care about the other person, thereby enhancing the bond between the
two of you. It effectively communicates: "Look, I remembered you like
Pokemon. Here, I went to a specialty store just to find you this rare
Snorlax gold-plated wristwatch." Gifting should never be used to
completely substitute for personal interaction. Indeed, remember that
for the gift of giving to emerge, you have to be sure that the present
will be liked. This means that you have to first get to know the person
you are gifting to, to find out what he/she likes and dislikes. The gift
of giving is also not a guise for unabashed and irresponsible spending.
The numerical value of the present does not really matter. Buy
something you can afford and the gift of giving will still appear - it
is reasonable like that. In fact, if you empty your bank account doing
Christmas shopping, how will you be able to enjoy the gift of giving?
You will be too preoccupied worrying about next month's bills.
The gift of giving is one of the greatest feelings in the world to
experience, not only during Christmas but also at birthdays, parties,
spur-of-the-moment get-togethers, or even out of the blue to say "I was
thinking of you." I hope that with my sharing, more people can get to
know this warm, glowing sensation... The gift of giving!
In short, when you give someone a gift that you know will make them happy, you get back the same amount of happiness that they experience getting the actual gift. It's a win-win situation.
I don't have a lot of expendable cash. Because of my disability, I can't work part-time as a waiter or barista like my peers. The little cash I do get are themselves gifts from relatives or Chinese New Year red packets. My bank account has a healthy balance because it's locked away like CPF and I have no way to withdraw money from it. Probably for the best too, otherwise I would have single-digit sums in there due to excessive spending. I don't have the best self-control...
When I do manage to obtain cash, though, I typically make it disappear pretty damn quick by buying gifts. Oftentimes I use up the entire amount I have on hand, like the $50 I mentioned in the Facebook post. If I have a lot of money at once, I can buy more lavish gifts. If not, I'll buy cheaper alternatives. Obviously I also take into account the cost per recipient. The $50 I talked about had to buy gifts for four people, so I went shopping at NTUC FairPrice.
In the weeks bracketing the time of this post's publication I'll be burning another batch of my money. For a change, some of it will be on myself. There are a few things I need. But the destination of the rest?
The Singapore government is on a big push to ramp up the number of places available in childcare centres and kindergartens islandwide. They also need more people to become preschool teachers to meet this demand.
In their quest to attract workers to join the early childhood industry, they have rolled out many initiatives such as generous training allowances and public relations campaigns.
But nobody tells impressionable newbies the other side of the story. The dirty, ugly side of working in the early childhood sector.
Until now.
My mother has worked in early childhood (hereafter referred to as ECCE, short for early childhood care and education) for more than 15 years, so I have seen for myself what life on the inside actually looks like. However, do note that everything I have written here contain my own views, not hers. She loves it in that field and I respect that, but there are still some truths that I feel need to be revealed.
So without further ado, the "listicle" (how trendy I am)!
#1 You never stop working.
ECCE is by no means a 9-to-5 job. If you work in childcare, you will work all day and even Saturdays. Those who are lucky enough to work in kindergarten have it a little easier, but be prepared to still have plenty of late days staying in school to redecorate your classroom, attend meetings, and clean endlessly as hygiene is of paramount importance! And forget about enjoying your weekends. Those will be spent planning lessons, marking children's work, shopping for stupid-looking colourful stickers and other assorted kiddy supplies, and staving off hungry sharks. I mean, parents. Which brings me to...
#2 You can never win.
Something about becoming a parent turns even the best of us into fire-breathing monsters. As an ECCE professional, you will learn this the hard way. Parents will complain to you for a myriad of dumb reasons, and if you misjudge your response, they will not hesitate to go straight up to your principal, who will promptly throw you under the bus. Get it into your head now before it is too late: You are always in the wrong, even when you are right.
#3 The pay sucks.
Yes, yes, I know. There are lots of people without jobs so be thankful to have one. But hear me out. In ECCE, salaries for teaching positions begin at just over a thousand dollars per month for fresh diploma holders, and go up to just above $3000. Beyond that, good luck. No matter how many years of experience you have, your pay is stuck at that level. Total greenhorns in other fields earn more than preschool veterans. Let that sink in for a moment...
#4 The job is a thankless one.
In the course of a typical day, you will change diapers, mop up vomit, wipe urine and faeces, get spat on, suffer bites and scratches from angry children, and possibly require a quick trip to the emergency room to receive treatment for hernia. And all that before lunch break. Does anyone ever express their appreciation for your sacrifice for the greater good of society? Hell will freeze over first.
#5 It takes a toll on your health.
Notice how children never seem to stop sniffling and coughing? After a couple of years in ECCE, you will be the same: trapped in an endless nightmare of not being healthy yet not exactly sick either. Forget about your doctor: he will not be able to help you at all. Because that thing inside you is not a virus. It is the curse of being an ECCE professional. And it is chronic and untreatable, unless you quit the sector completely.
Here it is. Five reasons why you should not join the early childhood industry. Again I wish to emphasise that the views expressed in this post are completely my own. There are many people I know like my mother who work in ECCE and love every minute of it, and I take my hat off to them. My aim with this entry was simply to provide a counterbalanced picture to the unrealistically dandy one painted by the government recruitment efforts, so that those who are considering whether or not to become ECCE professionals can make a more informed decision before putting in the time and money to pursue the relevant training. Hopefully this serves to warn off those who would otherwise have been fooled into thinking that ECCE is a bed of roses.
Today is the special day which celebrates the birth of arguably the greatest nation on Planet Earth. Sure, the United States has its flaws, but there's a good reason why people from all over the world dream of living in America.
I'm happy enough where I am right now, but am nonetheless a big fan of Western culture. American companies have given us so many of the things we can no longer live without: smartphones, personal computers, fast food, canned soft drinks, just to name a few.
Thanks to the internet and websites like YouTube, both of which are also American in origin, people like me can now experience life in other countries from the comfort of our homes. I love watching YouTube videos very much and spend around an hour on the activity before sleeping each night.
Cooking Videos
I am an unabashed cooking-video addict. Pictures of food and drink excite me, and I'm always curious to learn how a big bunch of diverse ingredients can be brought together to form a dish which looks and tastes good.
Pasta is my favourite type of food so I watch lots of videos about Italian cuisine. However, I do enjoy variety so I'll watch any other kind of cooking video I may encounter too. This has made me a bit of an "armchair general" when it comes to food. I can talk about it as if I'm an expert when I have in fact not touched a single stovetop in my entire life.
Anyway, I wanted to share this wonderful channel on YouTube that I like very much. Okay, I don't like it very much. I absolutely adore it! It's my favourite channel on YouTube.
Its name is Mobile Home Gourmet. The creator is an old man who lives in a trailer van in California. He is retired so he made this channel to give himself something to occupy the time.
I like his videos because he explains things very clearly and shows every single step including basic stuff like chopping an onion. He teaches how to do those simple tasks safely and efficiently. Measurements are given in both imperial and metric units too, so don't worry about reaching for your calculator.
He even makes most of his food from scratch. When he says he's making pasta, he whips out flour, semolina, eggs and salt, and proceeds to mix up and knead a dough before rolling it through his hand-cranked pasta machine (see video below). The pesto he uses refers to the one he made by beating up some basil leaves, toasted nuts and garlic in a ziploc bag and then running it through a food processor with some extra virgin olive oil and grated cheese. His chicken stock is boiled from the leftovers after he has manually filleted off all the meat from a whole chicken.
The concept of TV dinners is also given a makeover. He has what he calls "minute meals". Basically, he spends a day or two working really hard in the kitchen, cooking up massive amounts of meat, soups and vegetables, and then packing them away in small vacuum-sealed plastic bags for storage in the freezer. He doesn't need to cook for months afterward. All he has to do is take out some of the frozen food and reheat it in the microwave. Not only does this do-it-yourself method save money, it also allows you to control exactly what goes into the food. Health nuts rejoice!
Here's a primer on Minute Meals. It's the first in a ten-part series of video lessons to show you how to assemble your own Minute Meals.
Mobile Home Gourmet covers cuisines from all over the world and a wide range of culinary techniques. I credit this channel for making me hugely knowledgeable about cooking. Do check it out! There's also a free cookbook that you can download from the website: http://www.white-trash-cooking.com/.
Marlon Bundo
Some people love him, some people loathe him.
His name is Donald Trump.
But this isn't a political commentary, and neither is it about the man himself.
It's about Mike Pence, his vice-president. Or rather, Mike Pence's pet rabbit Marlon Bundo.
My family has two rabbits and I have a bit of an embarrassing story to tell. When we got our first rabbit last year, some unsavoury thoughts polluted my mind. They revolved around the topic of eating the little guy. I'd heard that people do eat rabbits so I was wondering how rabbits are cooked. A quick Google and YouTube search later and my obsession with Mobile Home Gourmet was blossoming.
I'm over that phase now. It would hardly be worthy of me to be on one hand lobbying for animal rights while on the other plotting to put my own pets on the dinner table would it?
Nowadays I find that I'm quite the keyboard warrior. I get into online spats with people who in my opinion are idiots. There was once I was even accused of being a member of the fabled Internet Brigade (people who are paid to spread pro-establishment views and attack anti-establishment ones on social media). This happened after I corrected a misconception that the government had declared us to be self-sufficient in water supply. This is not true. We are aiming to achieve self-sufficiency by 2060, just before the treaty with Malaysia expires.
Recently, I fought with some Americans in the comments section of an Instagram post by the official @marlonbundo account. The Pence family acquired a new dog and cat and stuck the poor rabbit into a tiny cage while getting the animals familiarised with one another. When I say tiny, I mean hamster-sized tiny, and with no access to hay, which is essential for a rabbit to remain healthy.
Here in land-scarce Singapore, we live in high-rise apartments, each no bigger than a shoebox. Yet as responsible pet owners, we give each of our rabbits a dedicated one square metre fenced area to live in, festooned with hideouts and piles of Timothy hay imported from... you guessed it... America. This is the commonly accepted best practice according to animal welfare groups like Bunny Wonderland.
It's inexcusable for the Pences, who have a big suite in the United States Naval Observatory all to themselves, not to provide such basic care for Marlon Bundo. When I saw a few kind souls pointing out the bad living conditions the rabbit was being subjected to, I joined in to lend my support. Unfortunately, a large majority of the other followers of the Instagram page refused to acknowledge that the rabbit was not being treated well.
The standard of rabbit care in America seems to be quite low overall, compared with what we're used to here. They are quite ignorant, and often let their rabbits live out in the garden, don't give them hay, bring them to generalist veterinarians instead of exotic pet specialists, etc. And when they're faced with the facts, they get defensive and say things like, "I never gave my bunny hay but he lived to a ripe old age."
That argument demonstrates the small sample size fallacy. Have you ever heard someone say stuff like "My grandfather smoked 100 cigarettes a day and never had a day off work due to ill health!" (Tan, 2015) when debating that smoking isn't as harmful as it's made out to be? The problem with such a claim is that though it might be true for that particular person, the effect can't be generalised across the population. In other words, "Your grandfather is commendable for having lungs made of iron, but if everyone were to behave the way he did, people would start dropping like flies."
I suppose, as with everything else in life, there's the good and the bad. But hey, the good, Mobile Home Gourmet, is so damn good it outweighs everything bad!
Spinraza is the first drug for the treatment of Spinal Muscular Atrophy (SMA), the medical condition I have.
When it was released to the market and approved by the United States Food and Drug Administration (FDA) at the end of 2016, there was much fanfare and parents of SMA kids had hope that their children would be able to lead a better life with the help of the new medication.
Recently, Spinraza was also cleared for use in the European Union.
We haven't got Spinraza here in Singapore yet, but some parents I know are actively lobbying for the Ministry of Health and local hospitals to quickly bring it in.
My parents and I are not part of the movement. And here's why.
The most serious drawback of Spinraza is its prohibitively exorbitant price tag. It is really really really really really expensive. The cost of a single dose can buy three luxury cars with Certificate of Entitlement (COE). It can buy a small flat. It can buy enough chicken rice to feed three people for their entire lives if they eat chicken rice for breakfast, lunch and dinner every day.
One shot of Spinraza is estimated to cost up to $750,000. Three quarters of a million dollars. Oh, by the way, that's in US currency.
Parents in the US have managed to pressure the insurance companies to foot a portion of the bill, but I doubt our insurers in this part of the world will agree to do the same. They can be very annoying.
When I fell ill with swine flu (also known as H1N1) during the 2009 global outbreak, my father tried to claim insurance to cover some of the hospital fees, but they said they won't approve a payout because I have a "pre-existing condition" (referring to SMA). Hello? I got swine flu because I was unlucky! It has nothing to do with SMA! You mean other people without SMA didn't get swine flu? How then did it turn into an epidemic?
Okay, back to the topic. The hefty cost may be less of a problem if not for the fact that Spinraza needs regular booster shots in order to sustain the benefits. It's just like when normal people have a fever and take Panadol. After a while, the effect wears off and you have to pop another pill. Same here.
Imagine that. Every year, hundreds of thousands of dollars essentially disappearing into thin air. If everyone were a Bill Gates or Warren Buffett that wouldn't be an issue. But in reality, how are ordinary people supposed to afford it?
Another problem I have with Spinraza is that it needs to be delivered by injection directly into the spinal cord. That gives me the creeps! No way I'm going to allow anyone to stick foreign objects into my spinal cord!
Spinraza is also an unproven drug. Yes, it went through clinical trials and showed promising results. It significantly reduced impairment and improved motor function in the test subjects without killing any of them. But it hasn't been in general circulation for that long. Who knows? Maybe after a while some heinous side effects will rear up. Or perhaps those undergoing the treatment will develop resistance to the drug and all their SMA symptoms will come rushing back.
Wouldn't that be terrible? To have finally had the chance to experience a relatively normal life, only to have it snatched away and being consigned back to the wretched existence from before? What a massive psychological blow that would be.
I'm not wishing bad things on anybody but I'm just pointing out that negative consequences could still occur. That's the trouble with new treatments like this. Nobody knows what's going to happen.
A few years ago, a random two-bit small-time physician in China claimed to have developed a cure for SMA. The parents of an SMA kid I knew got very excited and shelled out a huge sum of money relocating to China so their child could receive the treatment. Just like Spinraza, it was injected in multiple doses at intervals.
The family eventually moved back to Singapore. Their child wasn't cured. A little bit later, the poor kid died. I don't have any solid scientific evidence that the so-called cure hastened the kid's untimely demise, but my gut tells me it played a role. The kid was actually healthier and stronger than me, but passed away at a much earlier age. Coincidence or something more sinister? Whatever it is, it serves as a cautionary tale against chasing after pipe dreams.
I'm glad my parents don't go haring off at every whiff of a possible hypothetical cure. I've lived all my life not knowing anything different. It doesn't mean I don't mind being disabled. Sure, it sucks and I'd gladly get rid of it if I had a genie in a bottle. But over the years, I've come to accept it as something I can't change. I just have to deal with it and live one day at a time. When it comes to a cure, it's too late for me anyway. No point getting all excited about something which may not work properly, or at worst might even rob me of the most precious gift of all: my life.
