What's My Line?

Often, my kids will bring home forms to be filled in, asking for personal particulars and other information. This is usually a trivial task albeit mundane. But inadvertently, I will come to one question which stumps me: Mother's Occupation.

I never know what to write. 'Director' is printed on my namecards but appears too pompous on a school form. 'Writer' makes me sound like someone who pens Mr Midnight books. 'Editor'? Nah, I don't work for a newspaper. 'Entrepreneur'? Macam like I'm Sim Wong Hoo or that Bengawan Solo lady. 'Business woman'? Blecch. Don't even think about it.

Have you noticed that it's harder to pinpoint our occupation these days? When I was at school, we never had this problem. The occupations of my friends' parents could usually be summed up in one word - lawyer, engineer, hairdresser, housewife, businessman, hawker, doctor, teacher. Back in those days, my father was simply 'accountant'. In today's context, that would never do. He'd be a 'Financial Controller'. Or maybe 'Senior Financial Controller'. Or if you want to go really grand, 'Group Deputy Director, Finance'.

Over the years, titles have become longer and fancier. I don't know when it started but I think people and organisations just got so caught up with making themselves sound important that they have lost perspective. A title has come to define who you are and somehow, an upmarket title is supposed to enhance one's value. I acknowledge that words are powerful and 'Corporate Service Officer', for example, sounds better than just 'Clerk'. But it is still an artificial change, especially if it comes without accompanying salary or job adjustments. Worst still, companies sometimes believe their own propaganda - "by the way, since you're no longer a clerk, we have to increase your workload."

Nowadays, you can't tell what a person does by looking at his title which is rather ironic. Isn't that the whole point of a title? You would have thought that with longer titles, it'll be clearer what people actually did. On the contrary, the longer the title, the more vague it is.

Here are some real examples: 'Senior Executive, Resource Development Services'. 'Research and Evaluation Principal Officer'. And I am not making this up but I actually came across one 'Acting Senior Assistant Director'. Seriously! I wonder if there is a 'Senior Assistant Director' who isn't 'Acting' and another 'Acting Assistant Director' who is maybe not so senior. And by the way, Deputy Director is one up from Assistant Director.

It's quite clever really, you can create entirely new hierarchies of rungs to be extended on the corporate ladder so people can keep climbing for longer. This proverbial ladder, I assume is headed by the 'Very Senior Chief Executive Officer'. Well, if you're the Chief Executive Officer, then you probably don't need a long title. Unless you feel slightly intimidated by the 'Even More Senior Chairman of the Board'.

I've come to the conclusion that if you're really important, you don't need a lengthy title to prove that you're somebody. Hmmm... the most important person in the universe? God.

So back to school forms. I'm pretty sure I've used every one of those titles listed above interchangeably at some point or other (except 'Business woman'), depending on my mood at the time. If some administrator were to compile all the forms I've filled in over the years, he'd think that I am either some multi-tasking superhero or a schizophrenic.

I thought it didn't matter what I filled, it's just another administrative task, nobody cares right? But alas, one innocent form with 'writer' on it got me invited to speak at a career talk at my kids' school. And I detest public speaking so I might just scratch 'writer' from my list of choices. Maybe from now on, I'll just write 'mum'. Afterall, that's a full-time job.