"If I have to choose one profession in which you give the most for the least it is probably teaching - if you take it seriously. You have to have the temperament for it to coax, to stimulate, to cajole, to discipline a young mind into good habits. You must have an aptitude."
~ LKY 1966
Sunday 29 March 2015 marks a sad day for Singaporeans as we bid farewell to an iconic leader ,Mr Lee Kuan Yew. I watched the proceedings via live streaming and despite being half a world away with no personal relation to the man, like many other Singaporeans I was moved enough to shed tears for his passing.
I was mindful enough of the tone of the media play for the entire week of mourning. Being in the UK , there was some discussion of his virtues and flaws . The criticism and exaltations on the internet provoked debate which though healthy was misplaced considering the circumstances. Everyone is entitled to an opinion( given their interpretation of history) but in my rudimentary understanding of social etiquette, , there is a level of decent behaviour and appropriate respect that any human being deserves in death .
As I sat listening to the eulogies, my head raced back to something I mentioned to a fellow student a few weeks ago. When asked about the competitiveness of the Singapore education system, my answer was clear and deliberate ' If you can survive the Singapore education system, you can make it anywhere'.
I was a beneficiary of that system and I have lost count of the number of times I have been told ' You speak English very well'... to which I often reply ' Yes I am a NATIVE speaker'... right to the face of an unwitting Englishman. We do not have a perfect system that fits everyone , that is true, but conversations with my husband on his grim English public school experience leads me to believe that the Singapore standard of 'being smart is cool' is not such a bad thing.
I also asked myself, what is the relevance of this historical event to me? Then as I heard the former Senior Minister Sidek Saniff's tear-filled eulogy on education, it brought it home. You see, my father and mother are both educators. My dad in particular came from a very humble background and made his way to Raffles Institution which was a big deal for a kampung boy. I still laugh when he tells me the story of how he had to adjust from a Malay stream school to an English medium school and made the indelible mistake of saying' Koo-Koom-ber' for the word cucumber ! My father grew up to be effectively bilingual and became an educator because teaching was regarded as an esteemed profession among the Malays. In fact, Malay educators were considered intellectual elites of his time.
So what does this have to do with LKY? Well, my father used to tell me, Mr Sidek believed that in order to improve the progress of the Malay community, Malay teachers needed to ensure that at least one child in the family should attend university. Education was seen as the key to address the community's challenges. However, in my case, the two is enough policy also meant that stakes were high in my family of two children and it rested on me to keep that commitment. So, you can imagine the relief on my dad's face when I received the offer letter from NUS. Education was not just a personal goal it was a mission of the community and change for the next generation.
Now, as I embark on my doctoral studies in education I cannot help but think, what if 'orang besar' did not give this emphasis to education? Studying policy to practice is the very core of my research now and I can understand how difficult it is for ideas to manifest itself into real action. What if (having done badly at my first 'A' level attempt) I gave up the will to study? Of course , my immediate motivation then was not to disappoint my parents but realising the source of that pressure.... THEIR pressure,,, I cannot help but be cognizant that the push was top down and I am grateful for that.
My husband always says ' We are very lucky to be born in the time and the location that we were born in. It could have turned out a lot worse'.
I am also inclined to believe that perhaps a few key individuals in my life history made that luck for me too, however far the degree of separation.
May you rest in peace Sir.
~ LKY 1966
Sunday 29 March 2015 marks a sad day for Singaporeans as we bid farewell to an iconic leader ,Mr Lee Kuan Yew. I watched the proceedings via live streaming and despite being half a world away with no personal relation to the man, like many other Singaporeans I was moved enough to shed tears for his passing.
I was mindful enough of the tone of the media play for the entire week of mourning. Being in the UK , there was some discussion of his virtues and flaws . The criticism and exaltations on the internet provoked debate which though healthy was misplaced considering the circumstances. Everyone is entitled to an opinion( given their interpretation of history) but in my rudimentary understanding of social etiquette, , there is a level of decent behaviour and appropriate respect that any human being deserves in death .
As I sat listening to the eulogies, my head raced back to something I mentioned to a fellow student a few weeks ago. When asked about the competitiveness of the Singapore education system, my answer was clear and deliberate ' If you can survive the Singapore education system, you can make it anywhere'.
I was a beneficiary of that system and I have lost count of the number of times I have been told ' You speak English very well'... to which I often reply ' Yes I am a NATIVE speaker'... right to the face of an unwitting Englishman. We do not have a perfect system that fits everyone , that is true, but conversations with my husband on his grim English public school experience leads me to believe that the Singapore standard of 'being smart is cool' is not such a bad thing.
I also asked myself, what is the relevance of this historical event to me? Then as I heard the former Senior Minister Sidek Saniff's tear-filled eulogy on education, it brought it home. You see, my father and mother are both educators. My dad in particular came from a very humble background and made his way to Raffles Institution which was a big deal for a kampung boy. I still laugh when he tells me the story of how he had to adjust from a Malay stream school to an English medium school and made the indelible mistake of saying' Koo-Koom-ber' for the word cucumber ! My father grew up to be effectively bilingual and became an educator because teaching was regarded as an esteemed profession among the Malays. In fact, Malay educators were considered intellectual elites of his time.
So what does this have to do with LKY? Well, my father used to tell me, Mr Sidek believed that in order to improve the progress of the Malay community, Malay teachers needed to ensure that at least one child in the family should attend university. Education was seen as the key to address the community's challenges. However, in my case, the two is enough policy also meant that stakes were high in my family of two children and it rested on me to keep that commitment. So, you can imagine the relief on my dad's face when I received the offer letter from NUS. Education was not just a personal goal it was a mission of the community and change for the next generation.
Now, as I embark on my doctoral studies in education I cannot help but think, what if 'orang besar' did not give this emphasis to education? Studying policy to practice is the very core of my research now and I can understand how difficult it is for ideas to manifest itself into real action. What if (having done badly at my first 'A' level attempt) I gave up the will to study? Of course , my immediate motivation then was not to disappoint my parents but realising the source of that pressure.... THEIR pressure,,, I cannot help but be cognizant that the push was top down and I am grateful for that.
My husband always says ' We are very lucky to be born in the time and the location that we were born in. It could have turned out a lot worse'.
I am also inclined to believe that perhaps a few key individuals in my life history made that luck for me too, however far the degree of separation.
May you rest in peace Sir.