When I Was Young

From TODAY, Voices
Wednesday, 25-March-2009

Letter from Koh Wee Keng

There are certain things that need to be protected, such as individual freedom and the freedom not to be bullied. There is no such thing as the freedom to bully.

Caning is by far the most proven form of prevention of problems such as violence.

Schools seeking the parents’ endorsement before meting out such a punishment is the mark of a civil society. After the pain is gone, caning as a lesson has a high retention value, even for those who merely witnessed it.

From TODAY, Voices
Wednesday, 25-March-2009

Letter from Duncan Edwards

Having witnessed the increased lack of discipline in British schools, lack of respect for authority and the increasing number of teenage knife attacks, then far from the use of the cane deterring foreign talent, I think Singapore’s school discipline may actually attract parents.

When Dr Rachel Kraut asked “What sort of repercussions will the witnessing of this event have on other students?”

Quite simply, they will think, “I’m not going to do that, else I will get caned!”

It’s called discipline. Carry on, schools. Singapore has a respectful, decent, honest society that we should be proud of.

From TODAY, Voices
Wednesday, 25-March-2009

Letter from Tan Chong Seng

Discipline begins at home, and if one has brought up children well, one does not have to worry about one’s children being inflicted by corporal punishment.

If what the author says is true, why do criminals still go to jail for crimes they have committed? Will counselling still help at this juncture?

I believe the law serves as a reminder of the consequences which would apply to others who wish to commit the same crime. This helps to bring order to society.

It has worked well for Singapore thus far, and this is the direction in which we will continue.

The Government can consider giving parents the choice to send their kids to schools that give teachers authority to use the cane.

Alternatively, there should be schools that do not have corporal punishment.

From TODAY, Voices
Wednesday, 25-March-2009

Yes, caning can teach children the right values, but reasons must be explained

Letter from Dr Anthony Thian

Caning has its place in instilling certain values into children, but should only be used when the offence is serious and not as a form of punishment for offences such as having long hair or long nails, being late for school or not handing in homework.

In this case, the child has exhibited violent behaviour (chasing down another child and kicking him) over a small matter — the rightful owner of the online game refused to tell him his password.

Violent behaviour cannot be tolerated. However, before the discipline master effected the punishment, he should have explained to the assembled students why the offence was serious and why it should never be repeated. It would also have been a good opportunity for the discipline master to give students some tips on anger management.

As a medical doctor, I come across many parents who now lament that they should have meted out stronger punishment when their children were younger. They regret their inaction, as some of their children have joined street gangs, others have gotten into serious fights and others have taken up drugs. The parents now wish that schools had been more strict with their children too.

Let us not get carried away with the notion that public caning would always have a negative effect. It certainly does not dampen any creative spirit. There is nothing creative in violent behaviour.

I SAY
From TODAY, Voices
Tuesday, 24-March-2009

Dr Rachel S Kraut

ONE night, over dinner, my 11-year-old daughter whispered something in my ear: One of her Primary 6 classmates had been publicly caned that day, in the classroom, in front of all the other students.

His offence was apparently computer-game related — he had chased down and kicked another child after that child had refused to tell him his password for the online game Maple Story.

I am not much consoled by the knowledge that the child’s parents were first consulted, and gave the school permission to cane their child.

As someone who didn’t grow up in the Singapore system, this is horrifying. Not only because of the public display of barbarity, but because of several messages that were delivered by the school’s discipline master presiding over the event. He compared this caning to the punishment meted out in Jakarta jails, telling the class: “The cane they use is four times as thick!”

Are we supposed to be reassured by the comparison of our children’s school to an Indonesian jail? Before and during the caning, the students sat silently, terrified, dreading the moment. My daughter told me what she thought: “I don’t want to watch this. No one should be caned, especially in public.” She turned away and didn’t look.

One wonders: Will public caning lead to better behaviour? Was caning the right course of action in this case? Wouldn’t psychological counselling have been both more humane and more effective, as well as less damaging to the collective morale? What sort of repercussions will the witnessing of this event have on other students?

I’m sure the discipline master is confident he’s doing the right thing by caning children. The adage “Spare the rod and spoil the child” may have some validity, but as an educational philosophy, it certainly doesn’t contribute to creating a self-confident, free-thinking, creative populace.

The Singaporean school system acts according to its own rules, beliefs, and cultural norms. This is fine, as long as the system is homogeneous. However, one of the stated goals of Singapore as a nation is to attract “foreign talent” and to nurture and integrate other cultures, as a mechanism of achieving technological advancement. This is sensible, and admirable.

But before the scientific establishment in Singapore recommends to Western scientists that they should immigrate and try to integrate their families into the local system, the system should either be relooked, or parents and children should prepare themselves for a shock.

The writer is an Associate Professor at the School of Biological Sciences, Nanyang Technological University. She is a Singapore PR who has lived here for four years. She is writing in her personal capacity.

Email your views to voices@mediacorp.com.sg

From TODAY, Voices
Monday, 23-March-2009

Letter from Li Juexun

I REFER to Trevor Tan’s Tech Comment, “Violence and video games” (March 13), debating the link between the two.

Perhaps some readers may be too young to remember this, but not too long ago, people blamed movies for violence, blamed television for violence, blamed music for violence. Heavy metal music, they said, surely was the cause of so much violent crime the world over.

The truth is this: People always try to find something to blame when something tragic happens. What they are unwilling to do is to look into a mirror.

Whatever violence has taken place would have happened even without the video games. The video game market is one of the largest of the various entertainment industries. If violent games did beget violence, we would have millions of murderers on the streets.

I am no expert on child psychology, I am no expert on video games. But what I do know is this: If my child spends 20 hours a day at his computer shooting zombies with an assault rifle, maybe it is time I started spending more time with my child and maybe doing some sports together, instead of just reprimanding him harshly and walking away without doing anything.

THE RECESSION
- Foreclosure is painful, but it isn’t the end of the world

From WEEKEND TODAY, Voices
21-22 March 2009

ESTHER FUNG
esther@mediacorp.com.sg


AS A reporter covering the business beat amid Singapore’s worst recession in memory, I often have a sense of deja vu whenever the issue of home foreclosures crops up.

My family and I have been down that road before.

Back in 2000, my parents, whose business had yet to recover from the 1997/98 Asian Financial Crisis, managed to stave off bankruptcy. But our family had to move out of the semi-detached bungalow that we had called home for five years because the bank was breathing down our necks.

I watched as my parents, who were in their late 40s, overcame feelings of inadequacy, anxiety and angst when they were forced to sell our home.

I remembered how sad I was when my parents told the six of us — we were then between five and 18 — that the red-roofed home, along with the sushi dinner parties and garden barbecues, had to make way for something simpler.

As a 16-year-old caught in this unexpected setback in life, I had to make some mental adjustments quickly. The house that I had imagined I would live in until my wedding day had to go.

My parents also had to swallow their pride when relatives, friends and business partners asked about our downgrading.

But later on, I realised that children could be pretty resilient in times of adversity. Rather than wallow in self-pity, my siblings and I kept our chins up and learnt to be more accommodating towards each other.

The spacious Volvo was sold and the whole family adapted to squeezing ourselves into the more economical Hyundai Elantra.

This reduction in personal space soon became a regular fixture in our lives.

Moving into a rented, smaller terrace home packed with unopened cardboard boxes subsequently made me a wee bit more responsible da jie, or eldest sister.

There were many nights when I would sit and chat with my younger sisters on the mattress to help them feel more comfortable in our new home. I shared with them my personal stuff when they could not get theirs from the still-sealed boxes.

We were definitely not miserable and managed to get by staying in a house that I suppose could constitute a fire hazard.

We had to share our rooms with two other siblings — it used to be two to a room — and throw away a significant amount of our possessions that were deemed of little monetary value.

As I watched my father’s apparel machinery business teeter on the brink of failure, along with its attendant ramifications, I developed a sense of humility that was, in some ways, liberating.

My siblings and I learnt to accept that certain luxuries that we had long taken for granted would no longer be there.

I didn’t know much about business then, but I did remember reminding my sisters — frequently — to be thrifty. I didn’t want our parents to worry more than they already had to.

Looking back, those days weren’t really so awful, after all. While at times we argued because it was really easy to step on toes, literally or otherwise, we gradually adapted to living in a smaller and less attractive house.

It helped that we were never hungry at home, as my mother made sure we remained adequately “prosperous” at the waistline.

We enjoyed our new surroundings enough to make them the backdrop of many a family photo. Pictures of my sisters posing with an orchid plant still grace the walls of our current home.

My parents eventually got over their colossal loss of “face” as they realised that they still had many things to be thankful for. If nothing else, all their six kids were still healthy and adequately well-behaved during this trying period.

Then guess what?

A year later, we had to downgrade again because the much-hoped for business recovery took much longer than expected. This time, we moved into an even smaller, four-room HDB apartment, permanently.

But having been through it once, we became more numb to yet another humbling experience. It was really not such a painful experience any more: We already knew what it was like not getting our first, second or eighth choice.

Soon, we got over the fact that we were unlikely to live in a big home with a fancy address for a long time to come.

Downgrading — not once but twice — was a difficult transition. But it toughened my family up and gave us the confidence that we could cope with whatever hand life might deal us. WEEKEND XTRA