Birthday wishes for the newly minted adult

Lesley-Anne celebrated her birthday last week. This wasn't just any other birthday - it was her 21st. She didn't want a big fuss, so she just planned a small birthday party at home with a dozen of her closest friends from Yale-NUS. For the sake of their privacy, I'm not showing the pics of her friends here.

 
There's something very surreal about your child turning 21. I know every birthday is a reminder that your kid is growing up fast, but 21...what this means is that your baby is now legally an adult. You will still worry about her, nag at her like she's 12, but the fact is that she no longer needs your permission to do anything and in the eyes of the law, is now fully responsible for her own actions.

I was reflecting on this and it came to me that while this is a major milestone, the journey towards adulthood is not a sudden occurrence the day one turns 21. I sometimes hear parents scold their kids, "You have to listen to me now! When you're an adult, you can do what you want." And I've also observed that the more controlling the parent, the higher the chance the child is going to choose to do the exact opposite of what the parents want the minute he or she can.

The truth is that 21 is just a number. Your child doesn't automatically become mature or responsible on this magical day. The kind of person you child has become on this day is an accumulation of all the years, experiences and events leading up to it.

Too often, parents are so caught up in the academic rat race that we lose sight of the fact that we  have a hold on our kids for only a very short time. I take the view that our kids are not ours to possess, but entrusted to us. How do we fulfill our duties as parents? Do we strive to bring up trophies to glorify our own needs? Or do we raise good human beings able and willing to bless others and make the world a better place? Do they give more to society than take from it? Do people around them give thanks for their existence? In short, are they valued as human beings? I can safely say that in life, few people give a damn about your grades or your achievements. What matters more is whether you're a good friend and person.

I know that many consider Lesley-Anne to be very accomplished for her age. However, her family and friends who love her appreciate her not because of her accomplishments, but because she is a simple, compassionate, sensible and intelligent girl with an admirable work ethic. I don't want to take all the credit for it - as I've always maintained, there's such a thing as free will. People are not robots and two people raised the same way can turn out every differently. But if we have in any way, been an influence in the kind of values she embodies today, that makes us glad that we have played our part as parents.

Happy 21st birthday, dear Lesley-Anne and may your light continue to shine for all to see. 😘😘

"Train up a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not depart from it." - Proverbs 22:6

Minding my own business

I recently read this post on how Ellen Pompeo fought to be paid what she deserved in tv show Grey's Anatomy and I went, you go girl! It's always uplifting to read about women who hold their own, especially in industries which are typically male-dominated at the top.

As most of you know by now, I've been running my own copywriting agency since 2002. That's coming up to 16 years. Do you know how many women run their own agencies in Singapore? Ok, I don't either, because 1) I don't know where to get the figures and 2) I'm too lazy to find out. But I work with other creative agencies on a regular basis - design agencies, advertising agencies, web agencies, PR agencies - and while a few are helmed by women, the vast majority are run by men. If there are female owners, more often that not, they have male partners.

I think this is true of businesses in general but it's something that struck me only recently. It was when I started thinking about grooming a second-in-command that I realised how difficult it was to find a right-hand woman. From talking to other women, these reasons keeping coming up as to why they don't want to run a business: Dunno how. Too risk-averse. No business mind. Can't commit to the time needed. Can't manage clients. Can't deal with the stress.

It's not that these reasons are invalid. It's just that underlying all these reasons, I feel that a major stumbling block is the lack of confidence. Women constantly doubt and underestimate their abilities, including their ability to learn and adapt. Men, on the other hand, tend to be more gung-ho. Even if they don't have all the information or knowledge, they are more assured of their abilities to be willing to give it a go. Read this BBC post on the confidence gap between genders.

So why did I, a woman, decide to go into business? The entrepreneurial streak doesn't run in my family. Neither my parents nor theirs ever went into business. While I told everyone it was because I wanted to spend more time with my kids, truth be told, a huge push factor was that I was thoroughly sick of the warring factions and politics happening in my last workplace. Sometimes, decisions are simply made out of reaching the limit of your patience (plus I probably didn't know what I was getting myself into).

So I launched myself into the big, scary world of business. For the most part, my gender didn't come into play, but the few times that it did, it left an indelible mark on my memory. People in Singapore don't think much about gender inequality because unequal pay or outright discrimination is not condoned. But gender stereotyping and coloured perceptions of people simply based on their gender still exist and are therefore insidious, because there's less awareness of their impact.

Most of my clients are very decent in this respect. They usually accord me with respect and don't treat me any differently because of my gender. In some particular industries however (I won't say which ones), male chauvinism is alive and well. On a few occasions, within five minutes of meeting the client (always a middle-aged or elderly man), I'd know that I was being judged at first sight and not in a positive way. Despite my long-standing track record and portfolio, the client would dismiss me as too ditzy or dumb to understand his very complicated business. Full of technical stuff, you know, beyond the comprehension of a young female. He would adopt a patronising tone and proceed to treat me with great condescension.

I once walked out on an interview because the client decided to deride me even before the interview started. I was furious and called the PR agency contact who had appointed me to tell him he could find himself another writer. He was very sympathetic and said with all the concern in the world, "I hope he didn't make you cry. I think it's so ungentlemanly when men make women cry." OMG. THAT made me feel like weeping. His statement encapsulated all the stereotypes about women being weak and emotional.

I guess it doesn't help that I'm small in stature and hence, look younger than I really am. While I appreciate this now, it was a handicap when I was in my 20s and early 30s. It was a handicap when I was heading departments in the workplace and a handicap when I was meeting clients (some people are both sexist and ageist). To make my presence felt, I found myself projecting an extroverted personality when meeting clients, to sound as chirpy, charming and authoritative as possible. It has become a habit and I still do this today (when I'm actually very much an introvert).

Because I was fortunate enough to have had two fantastically empowering female bosses, and my own conviction that women need to be empowered, I deliberately scouted out mums as potential writers. I won't go into it since that has been covered in detail in this post. Out of my 13 writers, 9 are mums and one is a mum-to-be. (In case you're wondering, I have male writers too. I don't discriminate. I take on whoever can do the job well).

When it comes to managing my writers, I consciously never wanted to be one of THOSE female bosses - you know, the temperamental and irrational ones who make decisions based on their mood-of-the-moment. The ones who give female bosses a bad reputation. I was going to go the rational route, much like how I approach all other business matters. Problems are to be solved one at a time, using logic and reason.

And yet, despite my awareness and intention not to let emotions run the field...

I let personal feelings get in the way of decisions sometimes. I feel bad making tough decisions even though they're right. And then I berate myself for it because it's illogical. Too often, I use "I think..." when I really mean "I know...", just to soften the blow. I still care too much what people think of me and I constantly need emotional support, especially when going through rough patches. In other words, almost unwittingly, my "female" side still reveals itself, in spite of everything.

However, I've long accepted that's who I am, and it's not necessarily a bad thing to have a softer side in business, as long as it doesn't get in the way of things getting done, and done ethically. 

Sidenote: On the homefront, I raised Lesley-Anne to be a strong woman. I wanted her to see that women can run a business, write books, blog, raise kids. Or not. It's not about being a superwoman or trying to grab everything in sight, like at a buffet spread. It's recognising what your strengths are, what you want in life, and then going for it purposefully. It's about choice and about empowerment - two things that shouldn't be dictated by societal expectations about gender. 

And guess what, Lesley-Anne is even more petite than I am but boy, she has perfected her death glare. It can shrivel you down to the size of an ant. She has no qualms about voicing her opinions, especially when boys with big egos and little substance try to talk over her (that really sets her off). Don't get me wrong - I didn't teach her to be rude. You don't have to shout or put others down. (Being kind should be a universal trait, regardless of gender). It's about being confident.

Mothers sometimes forget that we're role models not just for our daughters but also our sons. I love that having grown up in this family, Andre values women for their brains and heart. In fact, he is annoyed by girls in his school who "act cute", are bitchy, or focus only on their looks or material things. "Why can't they be more like you two?" he laments. (I'm glad because it means I'm less likely to get a bimbotic daughter-in-law 😆). And of course, kudos to the hubs for being secure enough to appreciate the strong women in his household.

Back to running a business: I didn't set out to be a flag bearer for women at the workplace. The women-friendly initiatives I took in my business journey were truly in response to each need that came along, that had to be resolved. But maybe that's how it is - the little incremental steps that are done to offer women a work outlet, flexible hours, even just a supportive community - maybe it all matters in the bigger scheme of things. I'd like to think so anyway. 

To end this very long and rambly post, I know many mums follow this blog. If you (and especially my female writers) are reading this, I just want to say: claim your confidence. You're stronger than you think. You're also capable of so much more than you know. You go, girl.

A question of integrity

Yesterday, there was an article on Channel News Asia about how you can easily pay someone to write your essays for you. One service provider claimed to have a “team of Rafflesians ready to help”, while another said their writers were graduates of “elite junior colleges with placements in top universities.” Essentially, you pay a few hundred dollars for someone else to write your assignment, some even with a guaranteed pass grade.

I found it extremely depressing. Not so much regarding the practice - I know this has existed for years. What I found discouraging was the angle of the article. You see, even though the article painted the practice negatively, it was only because the journalist found one of the bought essays to earn a failing grade. A seller interviewed boasted about the quality of his essays while a buyer talked only about the risk of getting caught. University spokespersons warned about both. 

In fact, a long section was dedicated to the marker slamming the quality of the essay. Yet another long section was devoted to the harsh penalties meted out to students who were caught outsourcing their essays. NOWHERE in the article does the journalist or any of the interviewees mention that this practice should be condemned simply because it is wrong.

This is one of those cases where there is no grey area. To me, it's not about how good the bought essay was, or whether it passed any plagiarism checker. The point is that getting someone else to write your essay and then passing it as your own is cheating. Plain and simple. It's the same as going into an exam and copying from your neighbour. It makes a mockery of the education system where one is supposed to learn and be evaluated on that learning.

I find that people have become increasingly creative when it comes to justifying their own actions. Everything is acceptable as long as you can argue it so. But I believe that when you strip down all the justifications and rationalisations, you'll find that the intent of the individual is often wrapped around one main value - integrity or the lack of it. Integrity is something you have or you don't, and is the value that drives your very core. For example "I can pay my maid late since I give her food" or "It's ok to under-declare my taxes since the government doesn't need it anyway" or "I will pretend I didn't know my son stole his classmate's toy since that classmate is very rich".

Unfortunately, integrity is not a value that can be concretised or assessed in a neat package so it's often undervalued and under-measured, whether in school or at the workplace. People of integrity are seldom recognised simply for being upright. In fact, they're usually scoffed at for being "old-fashioned" or "naive". In many instances, people adopt honesty only when it suits them or when something hurts them personally. Often, people with questionable integrity are the quickest to point a finger at others' honesty (cough*Trump*cough). In other words, society has evolved such that even the boundaries of honesty have been redrawn. That in itself, ironically, is a lack of integrity.

Coming back to the practice of buying essays, the fundamental problem is a lack of integrity, both on the part of the buyers AND the sellers. The sellers are equivalent to scalpers who buy concert tickets and resell them at exorbitant prices. Sure, they're not committing a crime but they're engaging in ethically abhorrent behaviour). And the fact that the article didn't call them out on this, reflects pretty much the values of society today - one that values only results. How the results are achieved is secondary. If you have to get someone to do the work for you, so be it. Just don't get caught. (And if you do get caught, find some creative excuse to justify it).

In case you're wondering, I don't have a solution to offer. Penalties will only go so far and rewards can have a backlash where people do something only for its returns. Encouraging people to adopt a value for its own sake is an enormously difficult task. All I can say is that people with no moral compass are the ones who potentially cost the system and society a lot, especially when they are revealed in cheating or fraud cases.

Perhaps what we can do to uphold the value of integrity, is to speak up against immoral practices, while supporting and encouraging the upright among us, so that they might not weary in doing good. And as parents, we have an enormous influence on our kids, by setting good examples and living lives of integrity. In a world where everything seems to be negotiable for a price, may we have the conviction to say that our values are not for sale.

The DSA vs kiasu parents

The latest news on the education front is the changes to Direct School Admissions (DSA). A reader asked me what I thought about the changes and I told her that after all these years, having witnessed cohort after cohort of students and parents undergo the system, I've become quite pessimistic about the possibility of a real transformation in education.

Two reasons: one, the mindset of parents in this country HAS NOT CHANGED. If anything, parents have become more kiasu than ever. This is not to say that all parents are kiasu, but as long as the majority of parents believe in chiong-ing to ridiculous extremes to chase the "best" school, the top grades etc, change cannot take place, no matter what tweaks are done to the education system.

The second reason is related to the first: the changes that MOE have made do not address the root problem of parents' mindsets. Removing DSA via academic ability will simply shift the focus onto sports and other abilities. If your attitude is that the DSA is a fast ticket to the school of your choice, then you will work backwards to calculate what it takes to get the DSA. This accounts for the horrifying number of pre-schoolers being pushed into swimming, golf, theatre and what have you, with the aim of hot-housing them for the sole purpose of DSA.

Honestly, how do you, as a parent, know that your 5-year-old has or will have a real passion or talent in competitive badminton? Or violin? Or hip hop? The short answer: you don't. These misplaced efforts have the potential to do real damage by forcing a child into an activity which serves only a pragmatic purpose, with almost no consideration for his or her real interest. I personally know of parents who pour thousands of dollars into singing or acting lessons with the hope that their kids can get DSA into SOTA, without even thinking whether their children have any interest in pursuing the arts as a career.

Education Minister Ng Chee Meng was quoted as saying, "With this expansion, students can better access schools with suitable programmes via DSA to nurture their strengths, talents and interests."

That may be MOE's intention, but the way that parents are trying to game the system, I argue that the DSA currently does not nurture strengths, talents or interests. If you have been training for a sport for 7 years by the time you're 12, chances are you will be very good at it, simply due to the amount of time invested. It does not mean that you have the natural strength or talent in it, let alone interest. In addition, the DSA nurtures nothing. Let's not kid ourselves - students don't have their abilities honed upon being successful in DSA. The DSA rewards students who ALREADY display ability.

The only way that the expanded DSA relieves stress is simply by increasing the number of spaces allocated. So instead of being able to take in only 2 basketballers, maybe a school can now take in 5. In other words, the child now doesn't have to be the top 2 trying out, just the top 5. Whoop dee doo!

Another problem is the schools themselves have a pragmatic agenda. Schools who offer DSAs via sports and arts see these kids as potential medal grabbers for school glory. Don't believe me? When was the last time a school offered DSA for a sport or CCA that wasn't competitive?

In fact, this clumping of DSA students into niche schools for specific activities creates other problems at the secondary school level. The same old schools tend to dominate all the medals in specific sports, which is not surprising because they already took in all the top players to begin with. It makes a mockery of competitive sports and the arts, leaving very little room and recognition for schools who don't take in DSA kids and actually DO nurture students with no prior experience. Forget about sportsmanship, growth and effort. Those take a backseat.

The DSA, therefore, has become an avenue for schools to become "elite" in certain sports and the arts, in the same way that branded schools like to trumpet their academic achievements, when the chances of success are already skewed in their favour. Ironically, instead of closing gaps, the DSA has inadvertently created an unlevel playing field in a whole different arena.

Andre's experience

I was initially reluctant to post about this topic because I felt that nothing I said would make a difference. It's like using a fly swatter to pit myself against the kiasu parents wielding Thor hammers. Plus, I'm perfectly aware that the parents who follow my blog tend to share my views, so I'm only preaching to the converted.

But in the spirit of giving encouragement, I thought I should share Andre's case, so for those of you who are despairing, you might take heart.

When Andre was in p6, he tried out for DSA for badminton to a few schools. He was rejected by every single one of them. There was one particular school that his badminton coach recommended him to, that she was quite confident he would be successful in. Then just three months before the badminton trials, the school changed the coach. The new coach took a different approach and didn't select Andre.

At a badminton competition

Back then, we were bitterly disappointed and so was he. We couldn't understand why God seemed to close all the doors to Andre, even though he realistically should have stood a chance. It was only years later that we realised we should have just trusted God from the beginning. The school where he eventually enrolled in, via an unlikely appeal, became such a blessing for Andre. It amply recognised and rewarded him for his badminton achievements and efforts, as I've blogged about before. He even became the CCA's captain and vice-captain for four years, an opportunity he would have been unlikely to receive in the other schools with DSA candidates.

In addition, many of the schools which offer badminton DSA are SAP schools, meaning Andre would have had to take Higher Chinese. With his horrendous Chinese standards, this would have been an unequivocal Disaster with a capital D, and maybe caused Andre to be retained. As a poetic ending, Andre's school badminton team, with no DSA students, beat out that earlier school he had missed out on the DSA for, in this year's school badminton tournament. It's a lesson in sportsmanship, humility and character-building.

I'm sharing this from the vantage point of a parent who has been there and done that. For Christian parents, have faith that God really knows what's best for your kid. You may not see it now, but it's my experience that every time we try to arm twist God into giving us what we want, it usually turns out to be disastrous. No need to chiong and stress - just trust that He will provide. Remember, God knows the future, we don't.

For non-Christian parents, I know it can be nerve-wrecking to trust that you're making the right decision in not chiong-ing with the crowd. But from the many parents I've spoken to and know about, I found that a significant number of children who took up DSA sports or arts eventually regretted doing so and dropped their speciality. I'm not saying that DSA, or even preparation for DSA, is bad. I'm saying that if you want to take this route, do make sure that your child is truly passionate about the chosen sport/art form, and it's not just because you're trying to bypass the PSLE or chope a place in a desired school at all costs.

As I'd also observed from the paths Lesley-Anne and Andre's friends took, the vast majority of them ended up in a similar route in higher education. At Yale-NUS where Lesley-Anne is now, the students come from a wide spectrum of schools and had amassed an equally wide range of grades, which makes me believe even more fervently that all the panicking and stress are so needless. The Big Bad PSLE is REALLY just one exam and it doesn't make as great an impact on your child's future as you might think.

It all boils down to perspective. At the end of the day, if what you want are happy and fulfilled children with values and character (and I hope you do), then understand that it doesn't start with killing their childhood with work, drills and more work (both academic and non-academic). I see so many unhappy teenagers around who are stressed out, insecure and hate their parents, and I say this emphatically: it's not worth it.

"For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." - Jeremiah 29:11

What's the tradeoff?

Lesley-Anne will be starting university come end July, so naturally, the conversations over these past few months tended to include university selection and who's-going-where among her friends. Since Lesley-Anne attended one of the branded JCs, there might be some perception that most of her school mates would be studying overseas.

This turned out to be untrue. By far, most of the students I know are enrolling in local universities. In fact, some of Lesley-Anne's super bright friends, previously from GEP, top schools, etc, will be studying in exactly the same university and course as their peers who came from neighbourhood schools/JCs and didn't score as well as they did in the 'A' levels.

Why I bring this up is because I wanted to highlight how pointless this grade-chasing game is. Some parents are so hung up about their kids getting straight As that they have spent the last 12 or more years packing their kids to enrichment classes day and night, piling them with assessment books, etc, believing that the pie is so small that you have to do everything in your power to edge everyone else out. The truth is, many of these straight A students will end up in EXACTLY the same place (university-wise and at the workplace) as the less academically inclined students because, guess what - university applications and the workplace don't draw the line as myopically as these parents do in their heads.

Speaking to my friend who teaches at a JC confirmed my hypothesis. She says the kids in her mid-tier JC practically kill themselves volunteering for every possible community project and leadership opportunity, mugging till midnight, basically living their two years like a zombie, thinking all these extras will somehow matter in their university or scholarship application.

At the end of the day, for 95% of these kids, they won't. That's the kicker. The kids who get enrolled in the most sought after programmes are truly a minority and often, these are the kids who already have what it takes (I like to call it that extra spark). All the padding on your CCA is unlikely to make a difference. Even more so for those want a scholarship to study overseas - the success rates are miniscule and even straight A students with a fantastic portfolio often get rejected.

I'm not saying our kids shouldn't try and should just give up. It’s not a bad thing to try and do well in school and take on extra curricular stuff. The trouble is the lack of balance. It seems like the motto among some Singaporean parents (and students themselves) is: "If there's something worth doing, it's worth overdoing." Let's be honest - there's always an opportunity cost. What I see being sacrificed includes sleep, play, a social life, and important intangibles like curiosity, a love of learning, values, and time and the ability to think beyond what is given in a textbook. Do we even realise the enormity of the tradeoffs?

Some parents have the warped sense that the school years are a sacrifice and pre-payment for the reward they hope to eventually get. In the end, these formative years have become so detestable for our kids that they're exhausted and can't wait to be done with school. I find that very sad. The school years form an important part of the journey of life to be experienced (and ideally enjoyed). Our kids should be able to look back at them with fondness, not relief that they're over.

From my own experience and talking to others, I hope to reassure you that a lot of the chiong-ing is unnecessary and probably not have that much of an impact on the eventual result as you think. Work hard, but don't over-burden yourself to the point where you sacrifice physical, mental and emotional health. It's not worth it.

Today especially, on Youth Day, I hope we can remember that youth is a time when we should be celebrating vitality and discovery. Don't rob yourself (or your kids) of this very pivotal part of life. It's a time to experience and to be cherished. Happy Youth Day!

Mum's the word

My mother passed away when I was 18. I write this as a matter-of-fact, without any self-pity because the truth is that we never shared a close relationship. She was an authoritarian figure, who believed her word was law, whether or not she made sense. And there I was, this questioning teenager who wanted to know the reason and rationale behind each action. It was a clash in worldviews that could not be reconciled.

Her parenting style was typical of parents that generation. You obeyed or you got scolded (or caned). They showed their love by providing food on the table, a shelter and other necessities. Providing emotional support was not in their handbook. Neither was consultation. My mother would sometimes throw away my toys when I wasn't home, and I wasn't allowed to complain. Her love felt conditional, like it depended on me doing well in school. I guess that's how they were brought up themselves and they didn't know any other alternatives.

I'm not saying the fault was all hers. As my sister sometimes reminds me, I was a broody, grumpy teenager. I wasn't exactly a ray of sunshine to live with either. But I remember that each time I felt my parents did something completely unreasonable, I would tell myself, "if I ever become a parent, I would never do that to my kids!"

Of course now that we're parents ourselves, we often laugh at our childish promises. Some of my friends tell me they have completely turned into their mothers. "Do you think money grows on trees?" "Cry? I'll give you something to cry about!" or more likely in Singlish: "Hah? You got WHAT in maths? Want to die issit?!"

But one part of me never forgot the promise I made to myself that I would try to be the kind of parent I wished I had (the operative word being "try"). I was fortunate to have role models in the form of my late piano teacher and an aunt. From them, I understood the importance of unconditional love and care, and strove to do the same for my kids. There have been many instances of failure, of course. I've lost count of the number of times I've yelled "Just do what I say!" when challenged by my kids instead of offering a reason. When I'm frazzled, tired or lazy, it's easier to snap, "Go away!" than answer their questions.

Still, I know my bond with my kids is way stronger than the one I ever had with my parents. And when Mother's Day comes around, I'm reminded of how blessed I am in this respect. To be able to chat with my daughter like we're best friends, despite her strong will and stubborn streak, and even write books with her without us trying to kill each other. To have the sweetest teenage son who shares his thoughts with me as readily as he shares his hugs.

I've spoken to many mums and I'm aware that some feel very distant from their kids. Yet, despite our human failings and imperfections, we can build beautiful relationships, if the intent and the commitment is there. Don't give up. That's the encouragement I hope to share with all mothers out there who might be wishing they had better relationships with their kids. It might take some time, it may seem impossible now, but I truly believe anything is possible. Few things in life are stronger than a mother's love and will.

So this Mothers' Day, I wish you the blessings of a child that's close to you. Love fiercely, continuously and unconditionally, so that your children may share your heart and shine brightly for others. Happy Mothers' Day!

Breaking our kids out of the digital death grip

There's already plenty of research and literature out there showing that too much time on the Internet and electronic devices is detrimental to kids in a myriad of ways. This isn't news and I assume that most adults already know that. However, I recently read the findings of this child psychologist's research that brought the impact of the digital age a whole new level. A group of kids between the ages of 12-18 voluntarily spent 8 hours without electronic gadgets in an experiment and the result was startling. Only 3 out of the 68 kids completed the experiment.

Quote: "Three of the participants had suicidal thoughts. Five of them experienced intense panic attacks. Twenty-seven experienced symptoms such as nausea, sweating, dizziness, hot flushes and abdominal pain. Almost everyone who took part experienced feelings of fear and anxiety."

Suicidal thoughts and panic attacks? Wow.

Among the biggest complaints about kids I hear from my friends is that of Internet addiction so it's a hugely common problem. They complain that their kids spend too much time on the phone/computer/iPad and it affects everything from grades in school to interest in books to social skills.

Last week, Lesley-Anne and I conducted school talks at ISS International and we had a chat with the librarian. She lamented that kids these days don't read as much as they should because they have lost the ability to focus, due to exposure to digital gadgets. They expect everything to be quick and bite-sized. They lose interest in books that don't feature instant action and pictures. She was speaking anecdotally but I checked and the research backs her instincts. According to this article on Medical Daily, the digital age has decreased our attention span to just 8 seconds. That's less than a goldfish's attention span.

I don't claim to have all the answers - my kids are not immune to the lure of the Internet. However, I offer two observations based on my own experiences that hopefully can bring some insight into how parents can navigate this digital minefield.

1) Getting addicted is easy

This might sound like a "no shit, Sherlock!" observation but some parents behave like they're completely unaware of this. I've seen parents indulging their toddlers with iPads, gushing about how quickly their little ones figured out how to work the screens. I see 9-year-olds being given handphones with unrestricted and unsupervised airtime, with the flimsy excuse, "oh, everyone has one".

It takes almost no time at all to get from "here's a laptop" to "I've got a gaming monster on my hands". Like with any addiction, getting hooked is ridiculously easy. Just ask a smoker how simple it is to get from the first puff to the two-packs-a-day habit. If you understand this, wouldn't you think twice, thrice, about giving your kids unfettered access to electronic gadgets?

In our household, I had long imposed restrictions on electronic devices. When the iPad was all the rage and my mil wanted to get one for the kids, I put my foot down. I refused to buy laptops for my kids because I foresaw the dangers of them having a portable device where they could potentially spend hours on it, without my knowledge. For a long time, the kids' computer was a desktop located in my office, next to my desk. In other words, within my sight. Since it's not very fun to play games with your mum constantly peering over your shoulder and nagging at you, the computer wasn't used that often.

A few friends asked me, "but don't your kids need a laptop for school?" I suspect the "needing a laptop for school" argument is created by kids or parents who wish to justify their purchases. Unless it's the school that imposes such requirements (which I'm opposed to), I've found this to be false, right up to secondary school. My kids had not felt the need to bring a laptop to school. They did their homework on the home computer and on the few occasions that Lesley-Anne had to do some IT stuff in school, she used the computers in the school library. No biggie.

This carried on until Lesley-Anne entered JC, where she had to do her project work with her group in school every day. So we finally caved and bought her a cheap, practical Asus netbook. Nothing fancy and as a bonus, it's small, light and easy to carry around. It served its purpose but guess what - after Lesley-Anne got the netbook, she suddenly spent a lot more time in her room, surfing the Net and watching Youtube videos. Sigh. Repeat after me: getting addicted is easy.

Nevertheless, I would say Lesley-Anne is quite the untypical teenager in that she has a rather dispassionate attitude towards all things electronic. She doesn't use Twitter or Instagram, and her Facebook account is practically dead. I don't want to claim too much credit though cos she hardly watches TV as well, which was not something I restricted too much. She says it's boring and time-wasting.

2) Enforcement is hard

Many parents, when they finally realise that their kids are spending more time in front of the computer or phone than the other hours of the day put together (and usually when the latest exam results come back in brilliant hues of red), decide they have to Do Something. The most common is limiting time ("only one hour of computer time a day!") or confiscating the offending object ("no phone until you pass your Maths again!")

Like my ex-boss would say, "Very easy to give, very hard to take back."

Enforcement is very difficult once your kids have become addicted to digital devices. As with most addictions, it takes A LOT of willpower to quit. They may know all the logical reasons for quitting and may even be willing to stop, but they're unable to help themselves. So unless you're able to watch over your children 24/7 to ensure they abide by your new rules, chances are they're trying to find a way to satisfy that craving without your knowledge. It's not that they're bad, evil children. That's the way addiction works. Think alcoholics and smokers.

I faced a similar encounter with Andre. So as mentioned above, the kids' pc was next to mine and Andre would sometimes play games on it. It was mostly Minecraft and a few other games, and I had imposed a one-hour daily limit but it grew to become a problem when he was simply unable to stop. I would be yelling at him, "You've already played for more than an hour!" and he would beg, "10 more minutes!"

Sometime last year, I caught him breaking a rule or something (don't remember what the exact situation was) and as a punishment, I banned him from any computer time for a week. One night before the week was up, I caught him in the room, playing on the computer in the dark when he thought I'd gone to bed. I might have banned him from the computer for life that night. I don't remember because parts of my brain might have been blown to bits when I exploded.

In other words, do not underestimate the addictive powers of that electronic gadget when you freely give it to your kids. It's easier to start out not creating the environment that sets you up for failure, than to try and remedy the situation later. Expecting teenagers and kids to automatically be able to control their digital usage is like leaving a toddler in a candy store and expecting him to eat within reasonable limits. Steve Jobs, the late founder of Apple, limited the use of technology for his own children. When the creator of the iPad doesn't allow his own children to use it, that speaks volumes.


So back to the Andre vs the computer story. I'm happy to say that story had a happy ending. God must have taken pity on me and intervened because not too long after that episode, the offending computer inexplicably died. Since that occurred during Andre's exam period, I told Kenneth we would think about replacing it only after, so Andre wouldn't be tempted to play on it.

Then the exams came and went, and we never got around to discussing the replacement (partly because buying tech stuff to me is even less enjoyable and interesting than the tedium of marking assessment papers.) The day after his exams, Andre grumbled a little that he couldn't play his games, but astonishingly, after just a few days, he never mentioned it again. Before we knew it, a few months had passed.

We came to the realisation that the computer actually didn't serve much of a useful purpose and was more an instrument enabling Andre's gaming addiction. When the computer died, his addiction died a natural death too. When asked if he misses the games, he says sometimes. But it has become more of an occasional itch that can be quickly forgotten, rather than a full-blown obsession. This reinforces my belief that addicts really do want to quit but are just unable to. Sometimes, going cold turkey is the only way. When Andre needs to do some work now, he uses my computer. It was truly no big loss and a huge gain. Admittedly, he still spends too much time watching Youtube videos on his phone, but I'm sure God will get to that in time, heh.

Don't get me wrong - I don't believe in cutting off all exposure to the Internet (I don't think it's possible anyway) since there are obvious benefits to being connected digitally. But given the highly addictive nature of digital devices, I believe that as parents, we can and should set limits at home.

I know it can be challenging going down this route. Take away their computers and kids can still have access to the Internet via their phones. We can't supervise their cyber activities round the clock. Hence, to have a fighting chance of countering digital addiction, we've got to do more than simply restricting access. To me, this means increasing the arsenal of meaningful activities that we expose our kids to... and while we're at it, be a good role model. Put aside your own phone and laptop, and be an active participant along with your kids. Activities like reading, baking, playing board games, or outdoor activities like riding a bike, swimming, or simply spending time with them chatting. You get the drift.

It's not that these activities mean your kids won't get hooked on computer games. But instinctively, I think when a kid's time is filled with interesting stuff, it lays the ground for other passions and habits to take root, and they're less likely to try and fill their voids electronically. If their real world is meaningful enough, they won't feel the need to replace it with a virtual one.

When students in top schools don't make the grade

When the 'O' level results were released this year, there was some hoo-ha when the Middle Ground reported that only 1 out of 10 students in RI's pioneer 'O' level class scored well enough to make it to JC. Many people were in shock, including the students, it would seem - RI? How could this have happened?

My reaction is: this was no surprise at all.

I've always been baffled by the intrinsic belief of some parents that because a high percentage of top school students score well, you will automatically score well if you go to a top school. It doesn't work that way. That's like saying if you hang out with a whole bunch of rich people, you will also become rich. So much logic.

Whether you are likely to turn in good academic results depends on a few factors:

1) Your natural talent or aptitude, which is largely genetic
2) Your work ethic, ie how hard and how well you study
3) How much help you get, eg whether you have tuition, good teachers, father-mother help, etc.

Of course there are other factors like luck, performance during exams etc, but I won't get into those as I think they play a smaller part. In general, how well a student performs in school is largely dependent on those three factors. Students in the elite schools tend to have a good combination of all three. That's why they do well. It's that simple.

However, in every top school, you will have a handful of students who do not perform quite as well academically. The group who entered via sports or arts Direct School Admissions (DSAs), for instance. Many of these kids enter the school far below the cut-off-point (COP), sometimes 30 or 40 points below. While the PSLE t-score is not definitive, it does offer a pretty good indication of general ability. If a student is lacking in Factor 1) and his Factor 2) is compromised because he has to commit a lot of time to his CCA due to DSA, he is already at a huge disadvantage when it comes to performing academically. It's the brutal truth.

I don't know if all the kids who scored badly in the 'O' level class were from DSAs. There could also be students who entered RI due to very high PSLE scores but somehow along the way, slipped and were unable to catch up.

Being in a branded school doesn't automatically mean you get a leg up in grades. In fact, it's often the opposite. Based on my own experience with my two kids, branded schools actually teach less and test more. When they teach, they go very quickly and assume knowledge of basic concepts. Many teachers of branded schools are simply unaccustomed to dealing with less academically-inclined children and much less sympathetic to failing grades (when Lesley-Anne flunked sec 3 maths, her teacher just assumed she wasn't trying hard enough). If you struggle to understand the fundamentals, tuition is often the only recourse for these kids. In contrast, Andre's teachers in a neighbourhood school go through concepts more slowly and hold more extra classes for weaker students.

This whole saga with the 'O' level class at RI is due to the way the Integrated Programme (IP) has evolved. When IP was introduced some years ago, the assumption was that the top PSLE scorers would naturally be JC-bound, so the through-train system made sense - kids in schools like RI/RGS/HCI/NYGH would bypass the 'O' levels and go straight to JC, saving them the hassle of preparing for another national exam. After all, these schools attract the top 5% of kids. Shouldn't be a problem, right?

Except there was a problem. Kids are human beings. They don't always perform according to statistical projections. Plus these schools took in some kids way below the COPs, as mentioned above. The result was that some kids in these schools just couldn't keep up, for whatever reason. The schools then faced a huge dilemma - what to do with these students? They couldn't in good conscience promote a student who failed practically every subject, let alone allow him or her to enter JC. So in the past, these kids would either be retained, transfer to an overseas school or transfer to a secondary school which offered 'O' levels.

The worst case scenarios were the sec 4 kids who couldn't make the grade - it was too late to transfer schools and study a completely different syllabus for the 'O' levels. What route could they take then? Poly? Drop out and take 'O' levels as a private candidate? Graduate with just a PSLE certificate? It was an untenable situation. I say this with first-hand knowledge because Lesley-Anne was from a branded secondary school and during her time, it was pure IP, with no 'O' level classes. There were students who couldn't make the grade and quietly transferred out to different schools, whichever would take them. At the sec 4 graduation ceremony, some students went up on stage to receive a fake scroll, bitterly knowing there was a chance they might not graduate. It's sobering and horrible and nobody talks about it.

So these top schools which previously didn't have 'O' level classes, came to realise that they were not doing right by these students. They had no choice but to open up 'O' level classes for the kids who really couldn't cope. It was with good intentions. However, it's laughable to call schools like RI "dual-track" schools because they're not. A dual-track school is one like ACSI, Victoria/Cedar or SJI where there are two distinct tracks from the start - IP and 'O' levels - and students can move from one track to another at sec 3, depending on their performance.  In these schools, teachers are trained and curriculum designed specifically for these two very different tracks and there is a sizeable student enrolment in both.

In schools like RI however, the 'O' level track is not a real option but a last resort for the students whom the teachers feel are not equipped to continue with the IP. In fact, many kids may be borderline cases but the schools often try to keep everyone in the IP (it's that or admit that the IP is a sham). The 'O' level class is a no-choice situation to at least try and give the failing students a decent qualification. That's why there were only 10 RI students in this class, out of a cohort of maybe 400 or so (I don't know the exact numbers).

In other words, the 10 RI students were already struggling academically. That's why they were in the 'O' level class. I also wonder how familiar the teachers were with the 'O' level syllabus as they were all trained for the IP curriculum. Was it any surprise then that the students didn't do well in the 'O' levels? It's not fair to compare their performance with the ACSI or SJI 'O' level cohort because the circumstances are completely different.

So what's the lesson in this whole saga? I loathe to add to the very judgmental "oh, RI is falling from their pedestal!" sentiment. I feel sorry for the students. They probably feel badly enough, first at being downgraded to the 'O' level class, then having to deal with the results. They don't need to be known as "the RI kids who failed".

For me, if there's anything to be learnt, it's this: don't get starry-eyed by the brand name of a school. Schools only share their glory-makers, their top-scorers, their Ivy-league goers. They never tell you about the ones who don't make it. And there are ALWAYS those who don't. Every cohort, every school, not just RI. People don't hear about them, except in whispers, because the parents and students are likely too ashamed to advertise their situation. And it suits all parties involved - the students, the parents and the school, never to speak of them. 

Getting into a school is the starting point, not the destination. Otherwise, it's like thinking you've seen the Eiffel Tower in Paris when all you did was board the plane at Changi. If your child is not of that calibre or suited for a highly competitive environment, getting into a top school can have disastrous outcomes. It is not a guaranteed route to success.

Nobody thinks it will happen to them but guess what, it always happens to someone. Know your children and ask yourself if they will truly thrive in that sort of environment. Don't let them be victims of your own ambitions.

Junior college or polytechnic - factors to consider

The 'O' level results will be released today, so I thought it would be timely to write a JC vs poly post. This topic is something that has been discussed in our household over the past couple of years, since Andre will have to make the decision soon.

 As I'd blogged about previously, Andre is certain that he will be pursuing the poly route, unlike his sister. This decision was reinforced when we visited a couple of poly open houses last weekend. He was instantly drawn to the vibe and energy there. There's just something about polys - probably partly due to the large open campuses and the fact that the students don't need to wear school uniforms, but you can practically inhale the vibrant atmosphere.

We spoke to a few lecturers and students. Andre was very impressed by the practical curriculum offered, with the myriad of opportunities for internships and overseas attachments. The facilities are, of course, fantastic. So he's now more motivated than ever to work for his O levels and aim for the course he wants.

Sometimes, I despair when I hear parents' views like, "you should go to a JC if you can because it's better." Better? What constitutes "better"? Often, the very myopic consideration is simply based on cut-off-point (COP). It seems like in Singapore, people monitor COPs the way stock brokers do with share prices. From the time of PSLE, parents scrutinise COPs like they hold the answer to the secret of their children's success. That's like believing a weighing scale is all you need to tell you how healthy you are.

JCs and polys couldn't be more different in terms of the curriculum, teaching style, grading system and overall environment. There is no one "better" path for everyone. Ultimately, the most important consideration is fit. I just can't imagine Andre in a JC - that would be like trying to pound a square peg into a round hole - with great difficulty and unlikely to generate satisfactory results. Whereas when I saw him at the poly, I could see how easily he would fit into the culture, with a real chance of thriving. It was a no-brainer, no matter what his eventual results will be. 

I'd previously worked at a polytechnic and with Lesley-Anne having undergone two years of JC, I feel I have garnered sufficient knowledge on both options. So here are my views on the JC vs Poly debate and how you can determine which is a better fit for your child. Note: Lesley-Anne sat for the 'A' levels so I'm referring to JC only from the 'A' level point of view, not IB, as I don't know enough about the latter. 

Academic vs Applied Education

JC is basically an enhanced version of secondary school. Most of the subjects are familiar, just taught in greater depth and detail. However, one point I would like to make to parents is that the leap in difficulty from secondary school to JC is exponential. Not only is the subject content enlarged significantly, at JC level, application skills are essential. You can't simply memorise content and regurgitate in the exams, and expect to do well, unlike at the 'O' levels, especially for the arts subjects. There are many students who scored A grades in secondary school, in Chemistry for example, and find themselves failing 'A' level Chemistry. So do understand your child's abilities when making the decision. You hear about the straight A students from the media so often that you might think it's almost a cinch to do well. It's not. Many students struggle and more than a few end up repeating a year or two, even in the top JCs. You don't read reports about these cases.

The course selection for 'A' levels is also much more limited. Out of the four core subjects, one has to be a contrasting subject. For Arts students, this subject is often required to be Maths, unless they take Knowledge Inquiry (KI) which takes the place of General Paper (GP) and can be counted as a contrasting subject. There are also many more restrictions on subject choice. In Lesley-Anne's JC, for instance, you can't take Chemistry without taking Maths, and you can't take Biology or Physics without taking Chemistry. (In other words, Maths and Chemistry are practically compulsory if you're in the Science stream). For the Arts subjects, you can't take both Geography and History. You also can't take two special or niche subjects, like KI and English Language and Linguistics (ELL).

Poly education is applied - meaning it's designed to groom graduates towards certain industries or vocations. The modules tend to be very practical and poly students are trained to be work-ready upon graduation. As such, poly education is also very much more specialised. As of now, there are 234 courses offered by the 5 polytechnics. It's enough to make your head spin. There are often electives in years 2 and 3 where you can specialise even further. Since most courses carve out a specific niche, you need to be very sure what you want to do as a career. It would be disastrous to enroll in Early Childhood Education, for instance, then later realise that you don't really like teaching or kids all that much.

From talking to poly lecturers, one of the biggest problems they face is students who enroll in courses and later realise that the courses are not what they expect or not suitable for them. Then they find themselves having to ask for transfers to a different course mid-way, thus wasting time and funds, or sticking to a pathway that they are unhappy with. So if your children, at age 16, aren't sure what they would like to do with their lives, it's probably a safer bet to study general academic courses at a JC.

Course Structure

The JC course structure is similar to that of secondary school. You sit for various common tests and exams throughout the year, culminating in the main one at the end of the year (promos for J1 and the big 'A' levels for J2). I find the JC journey very short. Since you enter in February and graduate before the 'A' levels in October, the teachers have to squeeze a heck of a lot of curriculum within 1¾ years. As a result, it feels like the students spend the entire period just mugging for exam after exam, especially in J2. 

The added stress comes about because the 'A' levels is a national exam where you're pit against the nation's other 18-year-olds and race towards accumulating as many A grades as you can possibly muster. The pressure is on both students and teachers alike. Also, the grades in this one exam are all that matter, for university admissions. You could be an excellent all-rounder throughout your JC life but choke at the 'A's and find that your previous stellar record didn't matter in the least. Terribly unfair and unhealthy, in my opinion. 

Polys run on the modular system, which gives you more flexibility. There is less focus on exams and more on assignments and project work. Your grading is based on Grade Point Average (GPA), taking into account your work throughout the three years. While this means that your grade is not dependent on one major exam, it also means that you can only do well if you put in consistent work. You can't slack off throughout the year and chiong only at the last minute - that's a recipe for disaster. Once your GPA drops, you might find it difficult to pull it back up on track.

Higher Education

The traditional thinking is that you go to a JC if you're university-bound whereas you go to a poly if you're not, since they train you for the workplace. These days however, many poly graduates want to further their education to improve their career prospects and progression. What are their chances then? If you look at the stats, you will see that the odds are stacked against poly graduates: about 70% of JC students and 20% of poly students enter local universities.

Statistically speaking, your chances of a local university education are much lower if you're a poly grad, even though the government now acknowledges the dreams of poly students for higher qualifications and are trying to widen avenues for them, such as the expansion of the Singapore Institute of Technology, which offers applied degree programmes for poly students. Many poly grads thus choose to go overseas for their degrees which is definitely pricier. Sometimes though, overseas is more appropriate if you prefer specialised programmes which are not offered by local universities anyway, such as Human Resources or Interactive Media.

In terms of time investment, you may be surprised to learn that there can be no difference between the JC-university and the poly-university route. Even though JC takes 2 years and poly takes 3 years, poly students, if taking up a related university programme overseas, are often granted exemptions on certain courses, as much as 1.5 years in a three-year programme! This is, of course, assuming you go on to a related course, eg. Mass Comm in poly moving on to a Mass Comm degree. If you move on to an unrelated course, you will not get any exemptions and have to complete the full programme. Local universities too, tend not to offer exemptions.

English Proficiency

I added this last point because I think it's an important one often overlooked. I'd written before how I'm baffled by the 'O' level point system which grants two additional points to students who pass Higher Mother Tongue. Two points for 'O' levels is a LOT. In addition, you can choose to count either English or Higher Mother Tongue as your L1 in L1R5 for admission into JC. Why? This implies that Mother Tongue is more important that English, our official language.

What can potentially happens then is this: a kid who is very proficient in Chinese and attains A1 for Higher Chinese can use it as L1 AND shave off 2 additional points from his total L1R5, thereby giving him or her a very good L1R5 score, while scoring poorly in English.

This is a loophole that I feel MOE should close, not only because it's a farce but because a student who is weak in English will struggle in JC. At JC, writing essays is a must. Even if you choose to go to the Science stream, you'll need to take a contrasting Arts subject, which would definitely require essay-writing. A friend of mine, who's an Econs teacher at a JC, recounted to me her frustration in trying to teach students who lack the English proficiency to express themselves clearly. In addition, GP requires a good command of the English language. Incidentally, if you fail GP, you would have deemed to have failed your entire 'A' levels. Gulp. It explains why so many students have tuition in GP.

In short, a student who is weak in English might want to reconsider going to JC as the language skills required are substantial. Not that you don't need English in poly education but because the modules are applied in nature, language use tends to be more practice-oriented. Polys also have communications skills modules to help students brush up on their English.


At the end of the day, I stress again that fit is the most important consideration when choosing between JC and poly. Visiting open houses is a great way to get a feel of the environment, and do speak to students and teachers. The poly open houses were last weekend but I believe many JCs have open houses this week. Go take a look with your child if you can.

Stress test - how not to go bananas

So the 'A' levels is in full swing and everyone in our family is already heartily sick of it. Lesley-Anne is so stressed out that her eczema has blossomed like summer sunflowers. As for the rest of us, we're playing the supportive role. Andre has wised up to the fact that his spontaneous and persistent: "Jie jie, jie jie, jie jie, whatcha doing, jie jie, jie jie, did you hear me?" is NOT a good idea at this point in time and likely to trigger fits of rage.

Some mothers write inspirational notes to their tortured exam kids. Me, I paste Grumpy Cat printouts on Lesley-Anne's door:

I'm not being mean, honest. Just trying to make her laugh (although when she came home from a particularly disastrous paper, her death glare was so potent I didn't dare put up a new one. At times like these, the only correct course of action is to stay far, far away until the coast is clear).

On a more serious note, I do believe that the art of managing your kids during stressful periods is to know your kids well. Lesley-Anne already puts a lot of pressure on herself and can suffer from anxiety, so we try to alleviate that (or at least not add to it). During revision, she uses her wardrobe as a white board, which I think is pretty ingenious.

Apart from her 'A' level preps, she's also in the midst of university applications now and sometimes worries over whether she can get into this university or that. We constantly remind her that God knows where's best for her and if He doesn't want her to go to a particular university, she can speak like Christiane Amanpour at the interviews, write like Sylvia Plath in the admissions tests, and still be rejected.

When she's in a bad mood, she wants to be left alone, so we give her the space.

When she's in the mood to chat or just need a venting outlet, I try to be there for her and we sometimes share stupid jokes and silly stories, which go a long way towards lightening the atmosphere. Take the cue from your kids (and pray for them) - that's the best formula to help them through stressful times.

And of course, we know that all this is temporary. Only two more weeks before we're home free!

xxxx

On a separate note, my heart goes out to Paris and all families of the victims of the horrific event that happened on Friday. Even as I write this sentence, it sounds so pitifully inadequate. When the news first broke, I couldn't find the words to describe how I felt, beyond the very inarticulate and uncharitable, "I hope all the perpetrators burn in hell." Other people have tried to put words to their thoughts - those who blame Muslims, those who defend Muslims, those who blame refugees, those who blame the Western world, those who cry foul at the disproportionate media attention vs the blasts in Beirut, etc etc. Everyone had an opinion or an explanation.

I read some of them and then I stopped reading. Perhaps it's because I was so sickened by the wanton disregard for the sanctity of human life that all the words and analyses in the world seemed meaningless and pompous. What did they matter? At times like these, when our faith in humanity is shaken to the core, the only thing that can bring hope is kindness to others. The accounts of strangers offering help and opening up their homes to those who were injured bring a glimmer of light to the dark. It is my heartfelt wish that the victims and families of the victims encounter much kindness and love from those around them.

May we always be kind to one another.

"If we have no peace, it is because we have forgotten that we belong to each other." - Mother Teresa

What's in a name?

Growing up, I was intrigued by names. As a teenager, I had a Baby Names book (even though having a baby was the furthest thing from my mind). The vast variety of names with their corresponding meanings fascinated me. Hilary means "cheerful"! Nigel means "champion"! Cilla means "blind"? Oh dear.

Some names I instantly liked (Heather), some I disliked (Cybil). Some grew on me (Sophie). I didn't mind my own name but back then, if I had to pick one out of the sea of names, Monica probably wouldn't have made the top ten list.

Piece of trivia: My parents named me after the room I was born in at Mount Alvernia hospital - St Monica. When I first heard that my name was decided on in such a cavalier fashion, I shuddered. Imagine if I were born in the St Bernadette room! I'm so not a Bernadette.

So when I was expecting Lesley-Anne, one of the first things I did after discovering it was a girl, was mull over the name. It was definitely more fun than and a distraction from the heartburn, morning sickness and prospect of a crying infant.

I didn't want too common a name (I've lost count of how many Rachels and Ryans there have been in my kids' classes) but at the same time, I was careful not to choose anything too outlandish because I know how much anguish it can cause kids in school when teachers and students butcher any name remotely exotic. The romantically Irish moniker Siobhan (pronounced "Sher-von) in Andre's kindy class was reduced to a terribly unglamorous "Sio-bahn".

In primary school, my best friend was a girl prone to daydreams called Angele (pronounced "On-jel"). She was called anything from Angela to Angel to An-jelly by confused teachers (till today, her Sunday School kids call her Aunty Jelly). She was so traumatised that when she eventually had kids of her own, she named them no-nonsense John and James.

The problem is that in Singapore, the bar for "exotic" can be set pretty low, especially when it comes to Chinese educated teachers or those more accustomed to local names. Even the innocuous Sean (pronouned "Shawn") can cause problems. A friend with a son Sean laments that he has been called "Sian". Lesley-Anne has two Maths classmates named Sean and her teacher persisted in calling both of them "Seah". They quickly figured that she wouldn't remember even if they corrected her so they ended up answering to Seah Heng and Seah Koh. For a long time, Lesley-Anne actually thought those were their names! Until she heard them called outside of class. ROFL!

So back to my child: I'd decided on Lesley very early on in my pregnancy. In my fickle and ever-changing world of favourite names, it was the name that stuck. In fact, Lesley was often the starring protagonist in my school compositions. But as I shared the name with curious friends and family members, I encountered so many "Lesley? Isn't that a boy's name?" A female colleague of mine back told me that growing up with a name that everyone thought was male (her name was San) was a pain. So in an effort to spare my would-be daughter the ambiguity, I added "Anne" to Lesley.

Little did I know that it would create other problems. Lesley-Anne is constantly being asked, "So is your surname Anne?" which then leads to the next question, "Are you Chinese?"

When it came to Andre, the decision was harder. There were so few boys' names I liked compared to girls'. A couple of names that were tossed around were Elliot and Timothy. In fact, Andre was Timothy (which I was never too convinced was right) up to the eighth month in my pregnancy. Then one night, I dreamed that I had a son named Andre and the next morning, I declared, "this boy shall be called Andre!" I don't think Kenneth and my in-laws were too keen because they had already gotten used to an impending Timothy, but by then, I was extremely grouchy and bloated (from too many McDonald's chocolate milkshakes) and they knew they would be protesting at their own peril. So Andre it was.

The first Andre I ever met was actually my friend Angele's older brother and I'd loved the name from the day I heard it. Till today, I still love the name and I'm so glad I chose it. I don't think it's too unusual a name but Andre tells me his teachers have a tendency to call him "An-dree" (it should be "On-drey") or Andrew or change his gender to Andrea. One even called him Audrey. Needless to say, not his favourite teacher.

Pronunciation is a pain but with exotic names, spelling is also an issue. For some reason, people can't seem to spell Lesley-Anne's name correctly. I've seen Leslie-Ann, Leslie-Anne, Lesley-Ann, Lesly-Anne and so on. I can understand why if you've only heard the name but sometimes, people writing her name next to where it is clearly featured IN BOLD (like on her book) can still get it wrong! Even extended family members persist in spelling her name incorrectly. Maybe they think we're the ones who've gotten it wrong. Grrrr.

And finally, even if your name is easy to pronounce or spell, you can still get lots of unwanted attention. I read a Facebook post where a girl named Vanna said she's constantly being asked, "Can I buy a vowel?" and another called Isis who's tired of being asked why she's associated with a terrorist group.

Choosing a name has consequences. So choose wisely!

If you have a unique name, you will totally identify with this buzzfeed post. I would check it out for the hilarious gifs but if you're too lazy to click on it, here's the text:

16 Things Only People With Unique Names Will Understand

1. You have a mild panic attack when a restaurant hostess asks for your name. 
2. You immediately raise your hand as soon as there is a pause in roll call. 
3. You still get birthday cards from your extended family with your name spelled wrong. 
4. People on Facebook continuously spell your name wrong even when it is listed mere inches from the comment box. 
5. People actually ask you if you are a foreigner. 
6. When giving your name, you just automatically spell it out of habit. 
7. You repeatedly get asked why your parents gave you “that name.” 
8. Literally 95% of your mail is spelled wrong. 
9. You’ve had to redo, reapply or resubmit official documents because your name is spelled wrong. 
10. You take extra care to spell people’s names right and take it personally when others do not. 
11. It actually makes your day when a stranger pronounces your name correctly. 
12. People actually question if you have misspelled your own name. 
13. Name tags give you nightmares. 
14. When wearing said nametag people still call you “hey you!” 
15. You have given up correcting people, but you keep a running list and misspell their name at the next opportunity. 
16. You will never name your children, dogs, fish or stuffed animals anything weird.

Helping kids overcome the fear of failure

Recently, a mother wrote to me after reading my book, The Good, the Bad and the PSLE, to say that her daughter has the same fear of failure as April in the book. She asked me how she could help her child overcome this. In case you didn't know, that reference in the book was based on Lesley-Anne and an incident I wrote about way back in 2008.

The fear of failure is very common, especially among high achieving kids. Some people feel this is so because high achieving kids have never tasted failure. It's probably true but that's only part of the picture. High achieving kids don't just seldom taste failure, many of them systematically go out of their way to AVOID failure. In other words, for this group of kids, not failing may have started as the cause of the fear but it also became a calculated outcome.

When Lesley-Anne was much younger, she would shy away from trying anything new. It took us a while to realise that anything new was frightening because she didn't know if she would be good at it and somehow, being good at whatever she did was so important to her (even if it was something as inconsequential as trying a new piece of equipment at the playground).

We constantly told her it was fine not to be good at something (who cares if you can't work the monkey bars??) Just try lah. But she wouldn't. She felt she would be judged for failing and the impending shame (which to us was imaginary) was too overwhelming. Contrast this with Andre who would give everything a go with gusto, and if he fell down or failed, he would just cry and blame the obstacle for being "too haaaaaaarrrd". Lesley-Anne internalised the failure whereas Andre attributed it to external circumstances.

According to this article, the fear of failure is one of the biggest fears in modern society among children. I'm no psychologist but I believe that this fear has to do with self-identity. In today's modern society where a person's self-worth seems to be wrapped around how smart/popular/beautiful/sporty/arty we are or how many trophies we can chalk up, failure is like a bad word.

Compounding this problem is our ridiculously narrow definition of success. In Singapore's context, it usually just means good academic scores. Kids here are almost always singularly judged by their academic achievements, which is so limiting for personal growth. Children who have consistently done well in school and regularly told how smart they are, run the danger of accepting this label thrust on them. They tend to fear bad grades like the plague because that threatens their self-identity.

Lesley-Anne, who is in a "branded" school, tells me she sees this around her all the time. After the release of exam results, there will always be students found crying, sometimes for a B grade. Like it's the end of the world. Whereas in Andre's neighbourhood school, it's a less common occurrence.

I can picture parents blaming the schools and education system for this. While I don't deny that our system plays a part in reinforcing the kiasu competitive spirit, I want parents to face the brutal truth: we are complicit in entrenching the fear of failure in our children.

I often hear of parents setting ridiculous standards for their children, like "you have to score 95/100 for Maths!" If the kid slogs enormously hard and amazingly manages to achieve this feat, the parent starts to think, "There, see? It's achievable!" And that then becomes the standard the kid has to thereafter live up to (or even improve on - "if you can get 95, you can get 100!") or forever be considered under-performing. We not only set them up to be afraid of failure, we set the bar for failure at such an unrealistically high level so anything less than perfection is considered failure. Any wonder our kids turn out this way?

Incidentally, once we set goals this way, we are undermining our teaching of other values like honesty and compassion. If we define the measure of success as a finite grade, then we're sending the message that this is the goal to be reached at any cost. Even if it means cheating in an exam. Or even more incomprehensible, if the benchmark for success is based on someone else's: "You have to beat Aaron in Science!" I've seen kids hate their smarter classmates or view them as rivals because their parents have unwittingly painted them as the obstacles to their own kids' success. It's terribly sad.

So if you're the parent of a child who's afraid of failure and want to break the cycle, what do you do? First, do understand that the fear of failure is largely internalised. You can't simply tell your child that failure is part of life and he needs to get over it. (Just like you can't tell me to get over my fear of lizards and expect it to magically happen. I'll smack you.) You need to create the environment that de-stigmatises failure and reinforce this through everyday lessons. Like I wrote previously in my article on affluent parenting, instilling values is a long-drawn process. It will take time.

Here are some suggestions based on my own experiences and articles I've read:

1. Praise the effort, not the outcome. Eg. if your kid worked hard for an exam, praise that, regardless of the result. That's right, see the second part of that sentence underlined. For my kids, when we see that they have worked hard, we praise them before the results are released. Even if the results turn out to be less than satisfactory, we want to reinforce the lesson that it was the hard work that mattered. After all, one could also do well in an exam without studying, just due to luck. That's not something to reward.

2. Praise your child for the values he demonstrates, like diligence and perseverance, not for his smarts. A kid who's constantly told how smart he is tends to internalise the "smart" label and feel the pressure to live up to it. There's a lot to lose and his self worth can come crashing down if the results don't reflect that label (hence fear of failure). Also, don't overpraise for every little thing. Kids know when the compliments are fake and these don't give them a sense of accomplishment. In fact, they do the opposite.

3. When your kids fail at something, resist the scolding and the nagging. Scolding reinforces the message that failure is BAD and something to be avoided. By all means, help them see where they went wrong but instead of harping on the failure, help them get back up on their feet and encourage them try again. And if they fail again, help them try AGAIN. Seriously. No matter how many times it takes. In this interview with the South China Morning Post, I talked about how I responded when Lesley-Anne failed maths in school. I know not scolding is hard. We're human (and Asian parents!) Even if we don't scold, our kids can still sense our disappointment. So I know it can be a struggle, but do try.

4. Encourage your child to try new things. Like a new sport. For young kids, this could be as simple as trying out a new contraption on the playground. If they resist, don't force or criticise. Just try again next time. If they do make an attempt, remember Point 1 - praise the effort. Then go back to point 3 - if they fail, resist the scolding. Even better, try it with them. Some articles I've read say to use encouraging phrases like "you can do it!" but I would proceed with caution because it depends on the kid. For Lesley-Anne, saying "you can do it!" didn't encourage her one bit, it only added more pressure and increased her fear of failure. So know your child and adjust accordingly.


Over the years, Lesley-Anne has definitely made lots of progress and she's a lot more self-assured now. When she was in sec1, she loved dance but refused to try out for the school dance CCA despite my prodding because she was convinced she wasn't good enough. High chance of failure = don't try. But by the time she entered JC1, she was prepared to give the dance CCA a go, even though she knew her chances were slim (because she wasn't in a dance CCA in secondary school). That gave me great comfort as I saw how she had matured in this area. The fact that she made it to the CCA was a bonus but I would have been proud of her even if she hadn't.

I wouldn't say her fear of failure is entirely resolved because even to this day, issues occasionally crop up. Lesley-Anne tends to downplay her achievements so as not to raise expectations. Whenever I express delight over her performance in some exam, she would dismiss it with something like "oh, I just got lucky" which I have to admit, sometimes annoys me. But I understand it's her way of not putting pressure on herself because she already tends to do that. It's her coping mechanism and her way of distancing achievements from her self-identity, something I've grown to understand.

The fear of failure has implications not just in school but on life itself. Kids who fear failure will almost never take risks. In school, they will choose the "safe" subjects. Their singular goal is to pursue good grades and enter prestigious universities, studying prestigious courses because that is the definition of success. Read this article about how to some kids, not getting into the top university is considered a total failure. Upon graduation, they will go for the prestigious or "safe" occupations.

Which is such a pity. For these people, life isn't a journey of discovery but an obstacle race fraught with hurdles to safely cross. They miss out on life's adventures because they are afraid to try new things (which is instrumental to discovering one's passions or interests). And they will be terrified of making mistakes at work. At the end of the day, how fulfilling is this life? I've met many adults who told me they regretted not being more adventurous in their youth and that they wished they had found their life's passion earlier. How can you find your life's passion if you are too busy staying on the tried and tested path? The fear of failure is incredibly limiting.

Many entrepreneurs didn't get good grades in school. While it is also because they tend to have a very different mindset that doesn't fit in with structured curriculum, I believe part of the reason could be that entrepreneurship is too far too risky for high achievers who fear failure. There's just too much to lose.

Bill Gates famously said, “I failed in some subjects in exam, but my friend passed in all. Now he is an engineer in Microsoft and I am the owner of Microsoft.” Something to think about.