so i rode my first motorbike today.
whoohoo! And it was cool!
post Urban Infest meeting, FundraiserMan sees me trying to flag down taxi and coasts towards me on his Yamaha, saying "ay, wanna lift?" I did not know recognise him so for a split second I thought he was some cheekopeh being funny.
After split second, 2 thoughts stood up in my little brain:
1) yay! get a free ride home!
2) crap! it's on a motorbike!
I have NEVER ridden a motorbike before and I have walked past MANY motorbike accidents. But through a mix of spur of the moment curiosity, politeness and cheapo-ness, i said, "yeah, that will be great!" I completely outed myself as a motorbike newbie by asking stupid things like how to strap on the helmet and how to get on the motorbike and whether it was easier if i held onto his shoulders or his waist.
I think I must have been pretty nervous during the ride because FundraiserMan told me a couple of times, "ay just relax and enjoy the ride. Don't worry." So, gripping his shoulder one iota less tensely, I did. And it was kinda great just feeling the wind rush by and looking at the people in cars and realising how contained and safe they looked in their air-com boxes. So THAT'S what motorbikers think of people in cars... talk about new perspectives.
top 3 thoughts in my head as we whizzed by nicoll highway:
1) "man this is cool"
2) "if there is an accident, hope my laptop does not get smashed into bits."
(ya thought of laptop came before thoughts of own life. go figure)
3) "God just checking: you will keep me safe right? Not my time to die yet right? my life is in your hands ya?"
:) when i finally set my feet again on terra firma, FundraiserMan very amusedly asked if i was ok. I must have left dents on his shoulder or something. I answered lamely, "oh yeah, i'm fine. That was really interesting!"
But yeah, motorbikes are cool.
That's another first to chalk up in 2005. FIrst time I got on a motorbike. whee!
Thursday, April 28, 2005
Tuesday, April 26, 2005
the toughest call in the world
I think Jesus really knew how to lay the smackdown when he declared the greatest commandment was to Love Our God with all our heart and mind and strength, and then to try and follow that up with loving our neighbour.
Am finding that second command difficult. When it comes down to certain archetypes of people, i have little patience and am fully tempted to spit out what I really think about them. I always think it's funny when some of my friends think I am patient. It's more like I am patient with the archetypes that do not bug me. But put me with anyone who I think is consciously stupid or a big phony wannabe or belligerent and obnoxious, and watch me cave into anger.
The true test of love is whether you are capable of loving your enemies.
Jesus really kicks ass in that department. Me much less so.
Oh for the grace of God to guard my tongue and for the Holy Spirit to quiet my soul! :(
Am finding that second command difficult. When it comes down to certain archetypes of people, i have little patience and am fully tempted to spit out what I really think about them. I always think it's funny when some of my friends think I am patient. It's more like I am patient with the archetypes that do not bug me. But put me with anyone who I think is consciously stupid or a big phony wannabe or belligerent and obnoxious, and watch me cave into anger.
The true test of love is whether you are capable of loving your enemies.
Jesus really kicks ass in that department. Me much less so.
Oh for the grace of God to guard my tongue and for the Holy Spirit to quiet my soul! :(
Sunday, April 24, 2005
a random slice of oddball
Next week on my world of multiple realities:
(a message brought to you by 2 cups of coffee)
1) finish filing taxestaxestaxes! SOB. April 30 deadline. thou shalt not panic. :)
2) Plan trip to Italy. ah Escapism....Roma, la dolce vita, la buffalo mozzarella, la bamba, la lala :)
3) Finish up the LAST 2 PAGES OF frickin' business plan - the cockroach that never wants to die is meeting its end at last. mwa haha.
4) Steal back magic dagger from nasty daggerspell mage - escapism via DND!
5) Submit proposal for workshop to teach 800 kids how to dress and behave with style. heehee. fun or what
6) Urban INfest meeting - update publicity plans for URBAN INFEST. cross fingers that collaboration with artists actually happens.
7) Last lesson with poetry writing neighbourhood kids. Should be nice...they actually managed to churn out some funny little gems.
(a message brought to you by 2 cups of coffee)
1) finish filing taxestaxestaxes! SOB. April 30 deadline. thou shalt not panic. :)
2) Plan trip to Italy. ah Escapism....Roma, la dolce vita, la buffalo mozzarella, la bamba, la lala :)
3) Finish up the LAST 2 PAGES OF frickin' business plan - the cockroach that never wants to die is meeting its end at last. mwa haha.
4) Steal back magic dagger from nasty daggerspell mage - escapism via DND!
5) Submit proposal for workshop to teach 800 kids how to dress and behave with style. heehee. fun or what
6) Urban INfest meeting - update publicity plans for URBAN INFEST. cross fingers that collaboration with artists actually happens.
7) Last lesson with poetry writing neighbourhood kids. Should be nice...they actually managed to churn out some funny little gems.
Thursday, April 21, 2005
Imagine Singapore / Imagine Church
I AM SO EXCITED! The stuff that this big global movement is going towards is exactly in line with what I am imagining for SOT's future youth initiatives!
better yet, I wanna take the methodologies and run it in church youth ministries as well. cool stuff cool stuff. Wow, incredibly simple but you need someone to put it in words and action to see how much possibility is out there for the taking
From the woman Bliss Browne, the ex-banker / Anglican pastor who founded it:
"Hope is a choice not a feeling. We must tune ourselves into the frequency of hope and listen each other into hope by the questions we ask and the questions we live.
What dreams or whispers are at the heart of your own life that may be seeking your commitment? What do you want to learn? What impresses your heart right now? What small change could you make that might make a big difference? How could you make solidarity with the stranger a daily practice? Who might stand with you?
Hope, the willingness to celebrate what can be, brings with it remarkable resources for creative connections. I draw courage from being in the company of others who are committed to transforming institutions and communities through learning and who are working to create a future worthy of our hope. Take the risk of living into your questions and commitments without needing all the answers. Actively seek the company of others willing to learn and to hold you accountable to your highest hopes.
Live from the inside out. And you will discover blessing coming alive in you."
better yet, I wanna take the methodologies and run it in church youth ministries as well. cool stuff cool stuff. Wow, incredibly simple but you need someone to put it in words and action to see how much possibility is out there for the taking
From the woman Bliss Browne, the ex-banker / Anglican pastor who founded it:
"Hope is a choice not a feeling. We must tune ourselves into the frequency of hope and listen each other into hope by the questions we ask and the questions we live.
What dreams or whispers are at the heart of your own life that may be seeking your commitment? What do you want to learn? What impresses your heart right now? What small change could you make that might make a big difference? How could you make solidarity with the stranger a daily practice? Who might stand with you?
Hope, the willingness to celebrate what can be, brings with it remarkable resources for creative connections. I draw courage from being in the company of others who are committed to transforming institutions and communities through learning and who are working to create a future worthy of our hope. Take the risk of living into your questions and commitments without needing all the answers. Actively seek the company of others willing to learn and to hold you accountable to your highest hopes.
Live from the inside out. And you will discover blessing coming alive in you."
Wednesday, April 20, 2005
oddest online quiz title ever. :)
just had to take it because it's such an odd quiz title
You are 'Gregg shorthand'. Originally designed to
enable people to write faster, it is also very
useful for writing things which one does not
want other people to read, inasmuch as almost
no one knows shorthand any more.
You know how important it is to do things
efficiently and on time. You also value your
privacy, and (unlike some people) you do not
pretend to be friends with just everyone; that
would be ridiculous. When you do make friends,
you take them seriously, and faithfully keep
what they confide in you to yourself.
Unfortunately, the work which you do (which is
very important, of course) sometimes keeps you
away from social activities, and you are often
lonely. Your problem is that Gregg shorthand
has been obsolete for a long time.
What obsolete skill are you?
brought to you by Quizilla
You are 'Gregg shorthand'. Originally designed to
enable people to write faster, it is also very
useful for writing things which one does not
want other people to read, inasmuch as almost
no one knows shorthand any more.
You know how important it is to do things
efficiently and on time. You also value your
privacy, and (unlike some people) you do not
pretend to be friends with just everyone; that
would be ridiculous. When you do make friends,
you take them seriously, and faithfully keep
what they confide in you to yourself.
Unfortunately, the work which you do (which is
very important, of course) sometimes keeps you
away from social activities, and you are often
lonely. Your problem is that Gregg shorthand
has been obsolete for a long time.
What obsolete skill are you?
brought to you by Quizilla
Sunday, April 17, 2005
sober sunday
Pastor Chris' sermon was really powerful today - he testified about how God was working constantly behind the scenes, moving things and people in place for his plans. It was very moving when he talked about how his mother prayed for him recently to bring the gospel well to the English. This was the same woman whom he had prayed for 25 years to come to know God - and she did in a powerful wonderful way.
This small but poignant reminder of God's providence really moved me. I felt reenergised for the week ahead to do whatever God called me to do...knowing full well that the success of whatever that it was, already was held tightly in His hands.
This was kind of challenged just a few minutes ago.
My sister called me from Barcelona to tell me she and her friends had just been robbed at knife-point. The two robbers were apparently very violent and when bystanders tried to help, they got punched and robbed by fellow syndicaters in the vicinity,
My sister was throughly shaken and I felt it too. She was bawling about how she just wanted to come home to Singapore and how much she missed me. For the first time, we both ended the phone conversation telling each other "I love you, I will see you soon". I wished I could be there for her and her friends. I wanted to look after them and be a friendly face in a foreign land to them. Thank God, they were safe. Thank God, she will be making a stop in New York to stay with my brother and his wife. At least there is a second home some where in the world for her to rest before she comes back Singapore.
Hearing how violent the guys were, it really hit home how I could have lost her. It made me think how I try to escape from the fact that I could lose anyone of my family and friends at any time. And yet knowing that reality, I do not take seriously the need to pray for them - their salvation, their saftey, their health. Though I profess diffferently, this instance showed me that I still live, thinking and hoping troubles will coast me by. I don't take my family seriously enough. I have to start living with the fact that I must pray for them and must remember anytime, without warning I might lose them and whatever chance I have to love them, care for them and speak of God's Truth to them.
sigh. All this heavy stuff and I still have not done my taxes yet. God help me! :(
This small but poignant reminder of God's providence really moved me. I felt reenergised for the week ahead to do whatever God called me to do...knowing full well that the success of whatever that it was, already was held tightly in His hands.
This was kind of challenged just a few minutes ago.
My sister called me from Barcelona to tell me she and her friends had just been robbed at knife-point. The two robbers were apparently very violent and when bystanders tried to help, they got punched and robbed by fellow syndicaters in the vicinity,
My sister was throughly shaken and I felt it too. She was bawling about how she just wanted to come home to Singapore and how much she missed me. For the first time, we both ended the phone conversation telling each other "I love you, I will see you soon". I wished I could be there for her and her friends. I wanted to look after them and be a friendly face in a foreign land to them. Thank God, they were safe. Thank God, she will be making a stop in New York to stay with my brother and his wife. At least there is a second home some where in the world for her to rest before she comes back Singapore.
Hearing how violent the guys were, it really hit home how I could have lost her. It made me think how I try to escape from the fact that I could lose anyone of my family and friends at any time. And yet knowing that reality, I do not take seriously the need to pray for them - their salvation, their saftey, their health. Though I profess diffferently, this instance showed me that I still live, thinking and hoping troubles will coast me by. I don't take my family seriously enough. I have to start living with the fact that I must pray for them and must remember anytime, without warning I might lose them and whatever chance I have to love them, care for them and speak of God's Truth to them.
sigh. All this heavy stuff and I still have not done my taxes yet. God help me! :(
Friday, April 15, 2005
friday thoughts - postscript
FRIDAY NIGHT
On my way to see the Best of Asian art,
loud shrill chirps made me look under a bush
i saw a small, young mynah without a head.
Correction: it was a mynah whose neck had been twisted cruelly
twisted, so far to one side that he looked headless.
His posture vulture-like, his head held in place by plastic string and a little splinter
Knotted so ingeniously that you wondered
at the cruel inventiveness of the hands that tied it.
Freeing the bird, it hobbled clumsily to my foot, like a drunken chick.
Forced to permanently view the world askew, it no longer had a sense of balance.
So I sat outside the art museum, bird in hand, clueless as to how to help
the bird lay its bizarrely cocked head on a hill on my palm
as it it was exhausted and needful of a place to rest.
As I petted its tiny head and smoothed its delicately feathered wings
it amazed me that I had never seen a bird so up close before
It was an amazing creation of God - fragile, light, intelligent
Now horribly twisted by some arrogant, human fool, too blind to see its beauty.
In the galleries, painting after painting echoed the same theme
No matter what the style, what the medium, who the artist, what the artist believed
Every one of the works was stark in its observation of the dark heart of humanity
I carried the bird back to my school, put it in a box and knew whatever i did,
it was going to die - twisted, a parody, a joke, forced to view the world askew,
Without God, there can be no sense of balance
How much we need Him to save us and illuminate our dark world with Truth and Love!
On my way to see the Best of Asian art,
loud shrill chirps made me look under a bush
i saw a small, young mynah without a head.
Correction: it was a mynah whose neck had been twisted cruelly
twisted, so far to one side that he looked headless.
His posture vulture-like, his head held in place by plastic string and a little splinter
Knotted so ingeniously that you wondered
at the cruel inventiveness of the hands that tied it.
Freeing the bird, it hobbled clumsily to my foot, like a drunken chick.
Forced to permanently view the world askew, it no longer had a sense of balance.
So I sat outside the art museum, bird in hand, clueless as to how to help
the bird lay its bizarrely cocked head on a hill on my palm
as it it was exhausted and needful of a place to rest.
As I petted its tiny head and smoothed its delicately feathered wings
it amazed me that I had never seen a bird so up close before
It was an amazing creation of God - fragile, light, intelligent
Now horribly twisted by some arrogant, human fool, too blind to see its beauty.
In the galleries, painting after painting echoed the same theme
No matter what the style, what the medium, who the artist, what the artist believed
Every one of the works was stark in its observation of the dark heart of humanity
I carried the bird back to my school, put it in a box and knew whatever i did,
it was going to die - twisted, a parody, a joke, forced to view the world askew,
Without God, there can be no sense of balance
How much we need Him to save us and illuminate our dark world with Truth and Love!
friday thoughts -winter in singapore
FRIDAY MORN
they say seasons never change in singapore
but that morning, it was winter in my neighbourhood.
above me, the sky snowed yellow petals.
the grass, the drains, the roads were buttered liberally with raintree buds.
yellow as taxis, as crayons, as the doubled lines that snaked down the street.
the wind sent down drift after drift of gold
a road-sweeper paused to look at the sight,
the swash and backswash of her bamboo broom stopping momentarily.
she smiled at me and i returned the gracious gesture.
they say seasons never change in singapore
but just for that morning, we both knew better.
they say seasons never change in singapore
but that morning, it was winter in my neighbourhood.
above me, the sky snowed yellow petals.
the grass, the drains, the roads were buttered liberally with raintree buds.
yellow as taxis, as crayons, as the doubled lines that snaked down the street.
the wind sent down drift after drift of gold
a road-sweeper paused to look at the sight,
the swash and backswash of her bamboo broom stopping momentarily.
she smiled at me and i returned the gracious gesture.
they say seasons never change in singapore
but just for that morning, we both knew better.
Thursday, April 14, 2005
In the face of Age, soar like an eagle
i wish i could lay claim to writing this rather nifty little piece but i can't. It is a forwarded email from (of ALL people) my father, the happy agnostic.
recycling the pic of me in my childhood...thought it was a nice reminder of how many years God has brought me through. From silly 3 year old kid to slightly less silly adult of 27. Transformed, renewed, strengthened and scaling new heights every year.
"Eagles are the most long-lived bird in the world. By the time they reach
40 years old, their claws will start to age, losing their effectiveness and
making it hard for them to catch preys.
The lifespan of an eagle is up to 70 years old. But in order to live this long, it must make the toughest
decision at 40. At 40, its beak is too long and curvy that it reaches its
chest. Its wings, full of long, thickened feathers, are too heavy for easy flying.
The eagle is left with 2 choices
- do nothing and await its death
or go through a painful period of transformation and renewal.
For 150 days, it first trains itself to fly beyond the high mountains,build and live in its nest and cease all flying activities. It then begins to knock its beak against granite rocks till the beak is completely removed. When a new beak is grown, the eagle will use it to remove all its old claws and await quietly for new ones to be fully grown.
When the new claws are fully grown, the eagle will use them to remove all
its feathers,one by one. Five months later, when its new feathers are fully
grown, it will soar in the sky again with renewed strength and is able to
live for the next 30 years.
In life, as an individual, in a ministry, even in an organization,sometimes, we have to learn to make difficult decisions so as to make room for changes. Changes bring about renewal. And the only way
for us to soar again is to let go old ways, old habits, old lives. For as
long as we are prepared to put aside our old baggage - past glory or
shame, past success or failure - be willing to become zero, with an empty
cup mentality, we will be able to discover our potential and head towards a renewed perspective in any aspect of our lives.
I am also reminded of Isaiah 40:31 but they that wait upon the LORD shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint.
I used to wonder why the Lord would associate those who wait upon him
with the eagle and not other birds like peacocks, chickens or turkeys. It
is only when I read this that I know - God has intended that we should
soar on wings like eagles, run and not be weary, walk and not faint. But
this could only be possible when we hope and wait in Him to renew our
strength and be prepared to be moulded all over again - be zero again, be still again, be quiet again. And the journey of renewal will be painful and it requires an attitude of 5 words - I WANT, I AM WILLING.
Finally, be bold, be strong and soar like an eagle - for the Lord Thy God
is with You."
recycling the pic of me in my childhood...thought it was a nice reminder of how many years God has brought me through. From silly 3 year old kid to slightly less silly adult of 27. Transformed, renewed, strengthened and scaling new heights every year.
"Eagles are the most long-lived bird in the world. By the time they reach
40 years old, their claws will start to age, losing their effectiveness and
making it hard for them to catch preys.
The lifespan of an eagle is up to 70 years old. But in order to live this long, it must make the toughest
decision at 40. At 40, its beak is too long and curvy that it reaches its
chest. Its wings, full of long, thickened feathers, are too heavy for easy flying.
The eagle is left with 2 choices
- do nothing and await its death
or go through a painful period of transformation and renewal.
For 150 days, it first trains itself to fly beyond the high mountains,build and live in its nest and cease all flying activities. It then begins to knock its beak against granite rocks till the beak is completely removed. When a new beak is grown, the eagle will use it to remove all its old claws and await quietly for new ones to be fully grown.
When the new claws are fully grown, the eagle will use them to remove all
its feathers,one by one. Five months later, when its new feathers are fully
grown, it will soar in the sky again with renewed strength and is able to
live for the next 30 years.
In life, as an individual, in a ministry, even in an organization,sometimes, we have to learn to make difficult decisions so as to make room for changes. Changes bring about renewal. And the only way
for us to soar again is to let go old ways, old habits, old lives. For as
long as we are prepared to put aside our old baggage - past glory or
shame, past success or failure - be willing to become zero, with an empty
cup mentality, we will be able to discover our potential and head towards a renewed perspective in any aspect of our lives.
I am also reminded of Isaiah 40:31 but they that wait upon the LORD shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint.
I used to wonder why the Lord would associate those who wait upon him
with the eagle and not other birds like peacocks, chickens or turkeys. It
is only when I read this that I know - God has intended that we should
soar on wings like eagles, run and not be weary, walk and not faint. But
this could only be possible when we hope and wait in Him to renew our
strength and be prepared to be moulded all over again - be zero again, be still again, be quiet again. And the journey of renewal will be painful and it requires an attitude of 5 words - I WANT, I AM WILLING.
Finally, be bold, be strong and soar like an eagle - for the Lord Thy God
is with You."
100% Presbyterian
just took this interesting little 'what is your denominational belief system?' test and here are my results.
i have been fully brainwashed by ARPC haha.
gosh. 100% presbyterian or what. Just as well, I switched membership over the weekend. :)
1: Presbyterian/Reformed (100%)
2: Congregational/United Church of Christ (89%)
3: Baptist (Reformed/Particular/Calvinistic) (79%)
4: Anglican/Episcopal/Church of England (76%)
5: Eastern Orthodox (74%)
6: Roman Catholic (66%)
7: Seventh-Day Adventist (61%)
8: Lutheran (56%)
9: Anabaptist (Mennonite/Quaker etc.) (53%)
10: Methodist/Wesleyan/Nazarene (51%)
11: Baptist (non-Calvinistic)/Plymouth Brethren/Fundamentalist (38%)
12: Church of Christ/Campbellite (38%)
13: Pentecostal/Charismatic/Assemblies of God (28%)
i have been fully brainwashed by ARPC haha.
gosh. 100% presbyterian or what. Just as well, I switched membership over the weekend. :)
1: Presbyterian/Reformed (100%)
2: Congregational/United Church of Christ (89%)
3: Baptist (Reformed/Particular/Calvinistic) (79%)
4: Anglican/Episcopal/Church of England (76%)
5: Eastern Orthodox (74%)
6: Roman Catholic (66%)
7: Seventh-Day Adventist (61%)
8: Lutheran (56%)
9: Anabaptist (Mennonite/Quaker etc.) (53%)
10: Methodist/Wesleyan/Nazarene (51%)
11: Baptist (non-Calvinistic)/Plymouth Brethren/Fundamentalist (38%)
12: Church of Christ/Campbellite (38%)
13: Pentecostal/Charismatic/Assemblies of God (28%)
Wednesday, April 13, 2005
sober teacher thoughts for the day
class at neighbourhood school was acting up again. EM3 + Poetry + hot afternoon = madness.
Instead of running through my intended lesson plan about "how to present your poems", I ended up talking to them about why it was very important for them to know how to do simple things like stand properly, speak well, look people in the eye etc. in context of future job interviews, bursary / scholarship interviews etc. I was really laying it on to them how they better make sure they can at least conduct a proper introduction of themselves.
Some of the kids got my drift and were solemn and obviously paying attention. Some tried shutting up the rest of their nonsense-spouting classmates. But more than enough rabble-rousers still persisted in disrupting class with inane antics.
I had stopped a class game halfway to lecture them and the rabble rousers proceeded to ask, "ay cher, play games leh. have fun lah. boring lah cher"
I was not angry with them anymore and just felt really sad. I told them, "There's no point in me playing games with you if you don't learn anything from them. You laugh laugh have fun, so what? I walk out of here after one hour and leave you with nothing. Tell me, who loses? If every teacher just haha with you and not teach, you will spend 4 years in school and learn nothing. Your teachers walk out of the school, with pay in their pocket and all the skills and content still inside them. Isn't that terrible?"
The brighter ones shut up and realised what i was getting at. Some even chirped, "Ay cher don't be sad lah"
The poor, silly, out of control, playful ones were still fixated on the game and said, 'Cher, cher, so who won the game? You never say who won the game yet."
How do you tell them that if they never started to see what their brighter classmates had already perceived, they might never win the game?
sigh : _(
Poor kids.
Regarding that whole recent flurry of self-righteous letters to the press about teachers who quit too easily on their students, I have only one comment: I teach in neighbourhood schools only 4 hours a week and already I can feel an iota of what these teachers are up against day in day out.
It really is not easy at all and perhaps it would help if all education policy makers and armchair critics taught one day in one of these classrooms for a massive reality check. I don't think neighbourhood school teachers should quit easily but I do think they deserve a lot of our respect and sympathy for the onslaught of apathy they have to face everyday.
Instead of running through my intended lesson plan about "how to present your poems", I ended up talking to them about why it was very important for them to know how to do simple things like stand properly, speak well, look people in the eye etc. in context of future job interviews, bursary / scholarship interviews etc. I was really laying it on to them how they better make sure they can at least conduct a proper introduction of themselves.
Some of the kids got my drift and were solemn and obviously paying attention. Some tried shutting up the rest of their nonsense-spouting classmates. But more than enough rabble-rousers still persisted in disrupting class with inane antics.
I had stopped a class game halfway to lecture them and the rabble rousers proceeded to ask, "ay cher, play games leh. have fun lah. boring lah cher"
I was not angry with them anymore and just felt really sad. I told them, "There's no point in me playing games with you if you don't learn anything from them. You laugh laugh have fun, so what? I walk out of here after one hour and leave you with nothing. Tell me, who loses? If every teacher just haha with you and not teach, you will spend 4 years in school and learn nothing. Your teachers walk out of the school, with pay in their pocket and all the skills and content still inside them. Isn't that terrible?"
The brighter ones shut up and realised what i was getting at. Some even chirped, "Ay cher don't be sad lah"
The poor, silly, out of control, playful ones were still fixated on the game and said, 'Cher, cher, so who won the game? You never say who won the game yet."
How do you tell them that if they never started to see what their brighter classmates had already perceived, they might never win the game?
sigh : _(
Poor kids.
Regarding that whole recent flurry of self-righteous letters to the press about teachers who quit too easily on their students, I have only one comment: I teach in neighbourhood schools only 4 hours a week and already I can feel an iota of what these teachers are up against day in day out.
It really is not easy at all and perhaps it would help if all education policy makers and armchair critics taught one day in one of these classrooms for a massive reality check. I don't think neighbourhood school teachers should quit easily but I do think they deserve a lot of our respect and sympathy for the onslaught of apathy they have to face everyday.
Monday, April 11, 2005
Claim to Fame ST-4apr05
was in the Straits Times on 4 April concerning the whole "let's change National Education" hoo ha I am in.
my one claim to fame and the reporter spells my name wrong. :)
Kiuk? Now I am Hawaiian?
this is how God keeps people humble. :P
that's my good looker of a ex-student PseudoElf behind me btw. i had dragged him into class to be my designated "Pro Art Representative" for the day in our class discussion about "Art and Obscenity",
His mother went into paroxysms of delight upon seeing her son in the papers - cut it out and is going to laminate it to preserve forever. His brother paraded the photo to all the girls at his office.
Needless to say, me and PseudoElf were much amused.
my one claim to fame and the reporter spells my name wrong. :)
Kiuk? Now I am Hawaiian?
this is how God keeps people humble. :P
that's my good looker of a ex-student PseudoElf behind me btw. i had dragged him into class to be my designated "Pro Art Representative" for the day in our class discussion about "Art and Obscenity",
His mother went into paroxysms of delight upon seeing her son in the papers - cut it out and is going to laminate it to preserve forever. His brother paraded the photo to all the girls at his office.
Needless to say, me and PseudoElf were much amused.
for those who never saw it
just to update those who never saw the infamous secret files of the Commie Party. hee
when chromedome leaves for the states, we are gonna need another theme party. if we all self-sacrificing enough , we can all go as famous bald people. haha
when chromedome leaves for the states, we are gonna need another theme party. if we all self-sacrificing enough , we can all go as famous bald people. haha
Thursday, April 07, 2005
literary moment
i was in the same year as this brilliant guy, Alfian, in RJC who wrote amazing plays and poetry. People used to point him out to me back then and tell me he was an amazing writer. He's quite the high profile artsy guy now in the scene and i came across his blog. Loved reading it because it was always so full of fire-y comments and poetic little slice of life observations.
To my sadness, his blog has been down for a long time due to some server errors.....I only have one piece of his blog saved on a stray Sticky.
So here it is:
quite poignant stuff...amazingly sensitive eye and ear for detail
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
2001-05-24 - 10:39 p.m.
The Writer's Family, Abridged
-----------------------------
My father is a fierce man. My mother is not so fierce. My father has a way with words such that sometimes when he wants to ask a question it ends up like an accusation. For example, 'Did you bring your wallet?' becomes 'You didn't bring your wallet,' and 'Are you going to school?' becomes 'You're not going to school.' It often makes me angry but I tell myself far worse than being hurt by bad words is to be hurt by bad grammar.
My mother also has a way with words. But her problem is not with grammar. Since I was young, she has been developing a repertoire of phrases designed to make me feel small, to make me desire smallness, such that I can climb back into her womb and lie still and sinless. Certain words and phrases recur: 'you don't love', 'you don't pity', 'knife in heart'. Far worse than being hurt by bad words is to be hurt by words which aren't.
My father works through symbols. When I come home late, I will find the things in my room damaged by his invisible rage. The phone line for my modem like a sliced vein, my favourite shirt a dissected tangram, theatre flyers wrung into paper croissants. But these metaphors are mine. The symbols my father uses are straightforward: 'If you come home late, you make people angry. If they are angry, their anger leaves a wake.'
There was a time when I bought a pair of do-it-yourself-hobbycraft insects, convinced I could pinfocus my restless energies into something constructive. I punched stencilled shapes out of flat wooden boards and eased edges into slots. A few nights later, coming home way past midnight, I noticed that having finished with my phone cable, my shirts and my theatre flyers, my father had chosen to vent his paternal anguish on my 3-day-old invertebrates.
The next morning I found them pieced together with glue. It was my mother's handiwork, but since I had thrown away the instruction manual, she had created a pair of mutants: the cricket with rickets, the praying mantis gone heretic.
My father is a fierce man, meaning, obvious. My mother is not so fierce; she is subtler. My father taught me how to write fiction: 'A boy comes home late. A father wrecks his room. This is a story. A boy comes home late. A father wrecks his room out of fury. This is a plot.' But my mother concentrates on the details. The disfigured insects now buzz to me: 'Do not break my heart, because even after I mend it I cannot restore it as it was before.' In this manner my mother taught me poetry.
To my sadness, his blog has been down for a long time due to some server errors.....I only have one piece of his blog saved on a stray Sticky.
So here it is:
quite poignant stuff...amazingly sensitive eye and ear for detail
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
2001-05-24 - 10:39 p.m.
The Writer's Family, Abridged
-----------------------------
My father is a fierce man. My mother is not so fierce. My father has a way with words such that sometimes when he wants to ask a question it ends up like an accusation. For example, 'Did you bring your wallet?' becomes 'You didn't bring your wallet,' and 'Are you going to school?' becomes 'You're not going to school.' It often makes me angry but I tell myself far worse than being hurt by bad words is to be hurt by bad grammar.
My mother also has a way with words. But her problem is not with grammar. Since I was young, she has been developing a repertoire of phrases designed to make me feel small, to make me desire smallness, such that I can climb back into her womb and lie still and sinless. Certain words and phrases recur: 'you don't love', 'you don't pity', 'knife in heart'. Far worse than being hurt by bad words is to be hurt by words which aren't.
My father works through symbols. When I come home late, I will find the things in my room damaged by his invisible rage. The phone line for my modem like a sliced vein, my favourite shirt a dissected tangram, theatre flyers wrung into paper croissants. But these metaphors are mine. The symbols my father uses are straightforward: 'If you come home late, you make people angry. If they are angry, their anger leaves a wake.'
There was a time when I bought a pair of do-it-yourself-hobbycraft insects, convinced I could pinfocus my restless energies into something constructive. I punched stencilled shapes out of flat wooden boards and eased edges into slots. A few nights later, coming home way past midnight, I noticed that having finished with my phone cable, my shirts and my theatre flyers, my father had chosen to vent his paternal anguish on my 3-day-old invertebrates.
The next morning I found them pieced together with glue. It was my mother's handiwork, but since I had thrown away the instruction manual, she had created a pair of mutants: the cricket with rickets, the praying mantis gone heretic.
My father is a fierce man, meaning, obvious. My mother is not so fierce; she is subtler. My father taught me how to write fiction: 'A boy comes home late. A father wrecks his room. This is a story. A boy comes home late. A father wrecks his room out of fury. This is a plot.' But my mother concentrates on the details. The disfigured insects now buzz to me: 'Do not break my heart, because even after I mend it I cannot restore it as it was before.' In this manner my mother taught me poetry.
blogger going mad
blogger has been eating up my most recent posts so this is a test to see if this is going the way of the dodo as well... :(
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