A successful child's party: the signs.

I should have posted this last week, but now is better than not at all.

How does a parent know if their children really enjoyed a party? A child doesn't communicate in the ways that adults do. They may not tell you outright how much they enjoyed themselves or how great it was to have their friends around. Thus, we have to find other ways to evaluate whether or not they enjoyed a particular party.

Last Sunday, I had such a sign. You see, on the Saturday, we had celebrated my wife's birthday party by inviting a number of international and local friends - and their children. Two parties had, therefore, been conducted at once: the adult's party and the children's party. We rather enjoyed our party - but did the children enjoy theirs?

Well, I should tell you that Fintan is normally an early riser. He is often up before me and will be downstairs with a cartoon channel on, often before the rest of the house stirs.

Last Sunday, however, was different. In the morning, there was no sign of Fintan - or Tiarnan, who is also an early riser, though not as early. At lunchtime, there was no sign of Fintan - nor Tiarnan. So then I went looking for them. I found them both asleep in the boys' room. Neither stirred, so deep asleep were they. They were absolutely worn out. It was sweet, to see them sleeping there, so late, for it told me, more powerfully than words ever could have done, how much they had both enjoyed the party of the day before. So much energy had they expended running around with their friends, that they were unable to rise at their accustomed early hours.

I let them sleep and grew ever more amused as the time passed. It was not until past two-thirty that Fintan finally rose, over seven hours past his usual waking time. Tiarnan was even later.

I didn't need to ask them if they had enjoyed the party, therefore. They gave me their answer without even a word being said.

It is funny how sweetness may be found in the most ordinary of parenting events. I found it in an unusually enduring sleep: may you, too, one day.

(If you would like to learn more of Ainan Celeste Cawley, a scientific child prodigy, aged seven years and eleven months, or his gifted brothers, Fintan, four years and four months, and Tiarnan, twenty-one months, please go to: http://scientific-child-prodigy.blogspot.com/2006/10/scientific-child-prodigy-guide.html I also write of gifted education, IQ, intelligence, the Irish, the Malays, College, University, Chemistry, Science, genetics, left-handedness, precocity, child prodigy, child genius, baby genius, adult genius, savant, gifted adults and gifted children in general. Thanks.)

Lost Property in Singapore: Ainan style.

Finding lost property is ever a difficult matter, especially if no-one knows what it is, and so is never likely to know to whom to hand it in.

Yesterday, Ainan lost something unusual on a bus. It was a container filled with silver nanoparticles which he had made. The question is: would anyone ever know what they had found, if they found it? It is extremely doubtful.

At least, we think he lost it on the bus. We went in search of his lost property, early yesterday evening, retracing his path from the bus-stop to our home. As a family, we walked, heads down, scanning left to right, seeking a very strange object. It was of aluminium foil, in a cup shape, containing silver nanoparticles trapped in a polymer. To the untrained eye it would, of course, look like a glistening mess in a cup. Despite the attention of ten eyes, trained together on the ground, we couldn't find it. At the bus-stop, I checked the bins, like some hungry vagrant. Onlookers must have thought I was a very odd expat indeed. (Expats have a reputation for being rich - and so it must have puzzled them why I was looking in the bins, so intently.)

It was nowhere to be seen. So we concluded that, somewhere in Singapore, sitting on a bus was a vessel filled with silver nanoparticles, just waiting for some incomprehending soul to find it, and throw it away.

I imagined trying to claim Ainan's lost property from the bus service. I envisaged myself calling up and saying: "I would like to report some lost silver nanoparticles." Just imagining it was enough to ensure that I didn't do it. It would be utterly pointless. Understanding "Hello" is about the limit of most customer service employees - so grasping exactly what it was I was seeking would be quite beyond my capacity to communicate.

So, perhaps this makes Ainan the first seven year old to lose his own vessel of silver nanoparticles. In the annals of lost property, this must be a matter of some distinction.

(If you would like to learn more of Ainan Celeste Cawley, a scientific child prodigy, aged seven years and eleven months, or his gifted brothers, Fintan, four years and four months, and Tiarnan, twenty-one months, please go to: http://scientific-child-prodigy.blogspot.com/2006/10/scientific-child-prodigy-guide.html I also write of gifted education, IQ, intelligence, the Irish, the Malays, College, University, Chemistry, Science, genetics, left-handedness, precocity, child prodigy, child genius, baby genius, adult genius, savant, gifted adults and gifted children in general. Thanks.)

The best students in Singapore.

Who are the best students in Singapore? Are they bright, young, privileged things? Are they teenagers with shining eyes and fertile minds? Are they, in fact, Singaporean?

The answer to all of these questions is a surprising no.

Today, I had an interesting conversation with a member of the management of a Singaporean private school specializing in IT and other technical subjects. She told me something which, for me, was utterly surprising. She confided: "Our best students are maids."

Maids are the best students, in Singapore, according to this one senior staff member of a Singaporean school. That is quite a surprise.

These maids come from other countries in South-East Asia that are less developed, such as the Philippines, and Indonesia. These maids are really not paid very well - in fact, you would be shocked if I told you how little they are paid. They receive about a $193 US dollar a month salary. That is for a twenty-four a day, seven day a week job, with perhaps as little as one day off a month (it depends on the employer, some are more generous, giving a day off a week).

They therefore work hard for very little. Yet, compared to what they would earn in their home countries, they are paid handsomely - and so there is no shortage of volunteers for these positions. They save up, many of them, and go back to a much better life. Most of them are supporting families back home by wiring money.

Now, Singaporeans don't really think highly of their maids. Most of them look on the maids as some kind of lower lifeform. Perhaps this arises from their low social status and their differences in customs and behaviour.

So, I was rather surprised to learn that the maids at the school were the best students. The school manager told me that they are very serious about their studies, they pay attention, they work hard - and they outperform the Singaporean teenagers working alongside them. That would be a real culture shock, if widely known by Singaporeans. It would be difficult for them to comprehend how the maids, who many look down upon, could do so much better than locals. It is, in a way, really telling. Quite a few of the local teenagers were, according to the school manager, demotivated. They didn't make an effort. The maids, on the other hand, were highly focussed and dedicated students.

Ultimately, it was the maids who did well in their studies and went home better qualified than when they arrived. Most of them chose to study computing skills. They would then return to an office job, of some kind, in their home countries: certainly a step-up from domestic work.

The secret of their success may lie in one sad fact: many of the maids paid for the courses themselves out of their own meagre wages. That would mean setting aside months of earnings, to pay for a course for themselves. That is dedication for you. (Though some were lucky enough to have kindly employers who paid for the course for them).

Having made the financial sacrifice themselves, the maids are determined to do well - and ultimately they do.

I am glad I had that conversation today. It has altogether put the common view of maids into perspective. All is not as it seems - and neither are they. I wish them well on their return to a gentler life than the one that they led, here.

(If you would like to learn more of Ainan Celeste Cawley, a scientific child prodigy, aged seven years and eleven months, or his gifted brothers, Fintan, four years and four months, and Tiarnan, twenty-one months, please go to: http://scientific-child-prodigy.blogspot.com/2006/10/scientific-child-prodigy-guide.html I also write of gifted education, IQ, intelligence, the Irish, the Malays, College, University, Chemistry, Science, genetics, left-handedness, precocity, child prodigy, child genius, baby genius, adult genius, savant, gifted adults and gifted children in general. Thanks.)

Happy Halloween, everyone!

Some things only gain meaning through parenthood. Halloween is one of them. What would Halloween mean for a person, were they not parents and able to see the dressing up and tricking and treating through their children's eyes? Little, I feel...but with children it becomes a magical night.

This evening, our neighbourhood, in Singapore, celebrated Halloween. The evening began at the home of the Reverend Jim Blumenstock and his wife, Karen, whose daughter Ella is a friend of Fintan's. They had made a wonderful effort to theme the party. Spooky spiders clung to walls and littered the path to their home. Ainan actually jumped at the sight of them as he came out of the lift and saw them. Bats, too, flew across the walls.

The party even had themed food. There were cupcakes made in the shape of black spiders - and boy did they look ugly. I said as much to Jim and he remarked: "That's a compliment." Indeed, it was. They had succeeded in making them look thoroughly unpalatable. I offered one to Tiarnan (twenty-one months) and he looked somewhat uncomfortably at it, staring as if not quite believing what I was offering and spoke, emphatically: "No...no...no!" It was funny. Apparently, he is not going to be eating too many spiders, then.

The party had parents and children, from babies to about seven or so. There was that camaraderie that comes from having a shared experience - parenthood - that made the atmosphere a convivial one. Indeed, so comfortable am I with being a parent and so used to others being parents, too, that I have somewhat forgotten what it was like to be otherwise. That time is long gone - and not really missed.

In the spirit of the evening, Karen had put together a squeamish task for the kids: finding a spider in a bag of goo. The "goo" was actually overdone pasta - and the children had to put the hands into the bag and hunt around in the mess to find the spiders. They really got into it, though a few declined out of fear.

Karen and Jim were very generous with the kids - and everyone got a box of chocolates to take away and some sweets. They also laid on some monster pizzas for the adults (apparently they were "New York style" - which seemed to mean that they came in pieces larger than the average house.) In the Singapore tradition, they rather overcatered, having enough pizza to last each adult a week. However, their generosity is appreciated.

Then we left the Blumenstocks for the trick or treating. In Singapore, the kids are usually rather mild and no real "tricking" seems to occur. It is all a case of treating. The kids traipse from house to house and receive sweets from the occupants. What I find interesting is how much effort the occupants of the homes made to engage the children. I am not sure whether this is common elsewhere. The houses that were treating were, in Singaporean fashion, pre-designated - meaning a list had been made of which houses wanted to be visited. These houses were each dressed up in a themed fashion. Cobwebs would hang across entrance ways, spiders and ghoulish heads would adorn walls and hang from above. One house in particular had boldly posted warnings of the dangers of entering and had ethereally lit witches sitting at its entranceway - which really spooked Tiarnan who looked most appraisingly at one, lest it prove dangerous. I only think he had the confidence to do so because he was clutched in my arms.

The winner for the evening of Most Spooky House, however, went to a Korean lady who did something most effective, yet understated.

Unlike all the other homes, no spiders adorned her walls or hung from the ceiling. No cobwebs gathered above. No apparitions beset one on the way to the door. There was nothing to indicate that she had made an effort at all. There was just a simple sign on the door. It read: "Knock hard!"

Tiarnan knocked, but not hard.

The door opened and there stood before us the most strange looking of women. She had long flowing black hair which had been combed forward to hide her face. Her features could not be seen apart from her mouth. Over this she had placed mirrored sunglasses. She addressed us in a long, drawn out ghoulish voice - the kind of voice one imagines dead people might use if they had a mind to speak. She also moved rather slowly, which only emphasized the spookiness of her presence.

Tiarnan grew tense in my arms.

She had a bowl of sweets in her arms. She offered it.

He reached out, slowly, carefully and picked one up.

She continued to speak spookily.

He held the sweet up to her, as if to say: "I have taken the sweet, I have done my part...now don't be so spooky anymore."

She didn't relent. She reached out to him with a clawed hand. "Are you scaaaarrrreed?" She asked, in her oddly Japanese sounding voice.

He didn't answer, he just looked, unable to tear his eyes away.

He sure was.

We left, after thanking her.

Shortly afterwards, we bumped into Syahidah who had become separated from us with the other boys. She went to the house we had just come from to show Fintan and Ainan...Tiarnan, however, hung back, his hand across his chest in the local symbol for "scared". "Tacot" (I will have to check the spelling) he said, which is Malay for "I am scared." He said it several times and wouldn't approach her home again.

So, both Tiarnan and Ainan got a scare that night...the only one not to was Fintan, who is of the more robust variety, in many ways.

The funniest house, by contrast, was one in which the residents had dressed their dogs up: one as a vampire, one as a devil, with flashing red horns. Hilarious.

Oh, did I mention that I was the only adult in costume? I went as a vampire, dressed in black with a red cape. Syahidah had powdered my face for that authentic undead look. It was toned, down, however, compared to the year before - because then it had been rather too authentic. Children had blubbed on seeing me, so "undead" did I look! (Thanks to Syahidah's make up skills). This year I went for a milder look and not a one child seemed to mind. They rather enjoyed it, in fact: a better result, then.

Apparently, the adults never dress up, here - but I was never one for paying too much heed to what others do. I thought it more fun to join in with the children. Ainan and Tiarnan were rather comic looking moustachioed dandies, that could have been vampires with very little trying, but it wasn't specified. Fintan was a pirate, in full regalia.

At one moment, as I walked with Tiarnan, he turned to me and said, most endearingly, while tapping my caped shoulder: "Vampire!" He seemed quite proud of his daddy. His expression made me smile. Perhaps he would remember me as vampire, that night. It was a good evening.

Happy Halloween, everyone, everywhere.

(If you would like to learn more of Ainan Celeste Cawley, a scientific child prodigy, aged seven years and eleven months, or his gifted brothers, Fintan, four years and four months, and Tiarnan, twenty-one months, please go to: http://scientific-child-prodigy.blogspot.com/2006/10/scientific-child-prodigy-guide.html I also write of gifted education, IQ, intelligence, the Irish, the Malays, College, University, Chemistry, Science, genetics, left-handedness, precocity, child prodigy, child genius, baby genius, adult genius, savant, gifted adults and gifted children in general. Thanks.)

The Author's Purpose in Writing

One of my readers has observed that not all of my posts are on giftedness. This is how I intend it to be. Yet, their comment led me to think I should explain why I write what I do.

My first purpose in writing is to communicate my understanding of giftedness and what I learn and observe from my children (and from my own life), as examples of this phenomenon. I think this helps young parents faced with their first gifted child get to grips with some of the issues they will face. So, in that sense, my writing fulfils a social objective of supporting others in a similar or somehow analogous situation. All giftedness leads to varying degrees of the issues discussed on my blog pages and so any parent of a gifted child can better prepare themselves for what lies ahead by coming to know what one parent of gifted children has had to go through.

That is clear and probably understood without stating it - but I thought it better to make it explicit. There are, however, other purposes in writing. I wish to record my children as they grow up, so that I might enjoy their childhood many years from now, when, perhaps the details would otherwise have been lost to my, then, aging mind. It is, therefore, an investment in my future contentment at the parenting life I have led.

A further purpose is to explore and record the personality of my children - so not just looking at their giftedness, but recording anecdotes which show them as they are, which reveal something of their personality aside and apart from their giftedness. This was not understood by the reader who mailed me. He expected all posts to illustrate giftedness - but this is not so - and why should it be? There are more aspects to a gifted child than simple giftedness: there is their developing personality, funny moments, sweet acts, thoughtful deeds, developmental milestones, their interests and hobbies, their outlook and viewpoints, their friends, their loves and their lives (all later on, one would think).

A gifted child is so much more than a gift - and so a blog about gifted children - as mine is, should also be so much more than just about giftedness - and so it is. In some posts, a broader view of my children is evident. Glimpses of their personality and individuality are to be seen. It is these, in some ways, which are more important to capture. It is these aspects of them which make them unique.

I also wish to write in a more scholarly fashion, at times, looking at the literature on giftedness, genius, prodigy, intelligence, creativity, left-handedness, child development and the like. My purpose is to distill the essence of this work to make it readily digestible to all, so that my readers might be better informed of the scientific understanding of all things gifted.

On other occasions, I write of issues that seem to have some social importance, not just to gifted people, but to society in general. This is an important function which allows me to express my views on wider matters in the world. Elements of myself are to be found in such posts.

I also write of countries that I know personally - these include Singapore, the UK, Ireland, and the USA - the four countries with which I am most familiar. My view on all such matters, is that I would always like to see improvements in each society - so if I discuss one, it would usually be to address something which could be done better.

I take no political views, in this blog, but that doesn't mean I can't comment on something a politician does or says. There is no intent to take a political stand in doing so.

I hope that goes some way to explaining what I write and why.

Happy reading all.

(If you would like to learn more of Ainan Celeste Cawley, a scientific child prodigy, aged seven years and eleven months, or his gifted brothers, Fintan, four years and four months, and Tiarnan, twenty-one months, please go to: http://scientific-child-prodigy.blogspot.com/2006/10/scientific-child-prodigy-guide.html I also write of gifted education, IQ, intelligence, the Irish, the Malays, College, University, Chemistry, Science, genetics, left-handedness, precocity, child prodigy, child genius, baby genius, adult genius, savant, gifted adults and gifted children in general. Thanks.)

The Diamond Hope, a VLCC, Supertanker.

Never, in my life, did I think I would ever see a supertanker up close. Why would I have reason to? They are behemoths of the sea, ever seen on TV, but never seen in person, by the ordinary man.

Yesterday, however, Syahidah, myself, Fintan and Tiarnan, got to see the Diamond Hope, a Very Large Crude Oil Container ship, a VLCC, commonly known as a supertanker, at rather close quarters.

Superintendent Ashish Washti and his wife Priyanka, friends of ours, were kind enough to invite us to the shipyard in Tuas, in Singapore. As a Superintendent, Ashish is responsible for the ships that come into the dry docks for repair and maintenance: the Diamond Hope was one such.

We had to bring our passports and id, for overview at the checkpoint. There we were issued with passes - and the ubiquitous safety helmets.

We also underwent a safety talk on how we should conduct ourselves in the shipyards. The children didn't get helmets - mainly because there were none to fit them. That made me uncomfortable, but I knew why there wouldn't be any for them: why would there be, when only adults work there?

We walked past the checkpoint, with Superintendent Ashish and his wife, Priyanka, onto the shipyard proper.

I looked ahead and saw giant structures looming in the shipyards: huge, cavernous warehouses, towering cranes and the bulk of ships the like of which I have never seen. They were like floating cities.

We approached the nearest such giant: the Diamond Hope. Now, I cannot find the words to relay to you the impact of seeing just how large that ship is. It towered above us, to a height that would at home in the centre of any city...but that is not what gave it the sense of dwarfing us, by its gargantuan frame. It was its length, too, that defied belief. It stretched up above us, to a truly unexpected height...but it also stretched off into the distance, so far that one could not determine exactly where it ended, in the encroaching gloom - for it was evening.

Superintendent Ashish came out with some statistics, as he brought us down below to the floor of the dry dock - which was actually quite wet. This only emphasized the height of the ship, which we were now able to see from its base to its summit (the language of mountains appears appropriate).

"It is 330 metres long...and at sea it would sit 18 metres deep in the water." A ship a third of a kilometre long.

Fintan and Tiarnan were relatively quiet, perhaps awed by what they saw, their necks ever craning upwards to see the giant "mega structure" above them.

Ashish led us under the ship...something I was reluctant to do at first. You see the full weight of this ship (which Ashish said was about 100,000 tons, when empty, with an extra 300,000 tons when full), was resting on concrete pillars on the floor of the dry dock. These burdened pillars carried the full weight of the ship perhaps five foot eight inches off the ground.

I bent, therefore, to go under, questioning, even as I did so, how long it would take me to run to the side, should anything suddenly sound like it was beginning to give.

The underside of the ship was of cool steel (at least it was cool to the touch) and its paint was much worn, over the years. Ashish explained that the whole outside of the supertanker had just been cleaned with water jets at 3,000 psi. That explained the absence of barnacles.

There was a crunch beneath my feet and a smell of the sea. Ashish said something about "singapore worms" which are only found in Singapore and which had accumulated on the ship.

We took a picture there, crouching beneath a supertanker, a full 100,000 tons of steel above our heads. It was a relief when we got out from under it.

Then we walked the entire length of the ship - a third of a kilometre, across the wet floor of the "dry" dock. As we neared the end, we could see the propeller and the several stories high rudder. The size of this machine is something that cannot be imagined, but must be experienced.

It should also be remembered that we were in a dry dock - an area from which the sea had been pumped out, so we saw the full size of the ship - not just the bit that shows above the water. I felt humbled before it and really quite impressed by what engineers have achieved. To be able to build something that large is simply astonishing. If that ship had been stood on one end, so that it was vertical, it would be among the world's tallest buildings - that is how large it is.

We saw then, the sea wall. It was a little unnerving to stand before it, knowing that just beyond it lay the sea. I remarked that if anything went wrong we would be in trouble, with a nod to the wall. Ashish reassured us by pointing out that there was a double wall beyond. That, however, didn't stop water leaking through it in various places. It made one feel quite vulnerable to know that I was perhaps 20 or 25 metres beneath sea level at that point.

We left then and went up to the surface again, via a darkened staircase that climbed up along the side of the dry dock, near the ship's propeller.

Our final sight was a view of the ship from alongside it, from the vantage of a steel staircase that gives access to the ships, across what looks like a precarious gangway suspended many stories up in the air.

We climbed our particular staircase, which had open sides at each floor to allow gangway access, and became ever more insecure as we rose. In my left arm, I held Tiarnan, who quietly watched everything with great interest. He was much more comfortable than I was. It just didn't feel safe to be so high up and so unenclosed. Finally we were somewhat above the level of the ship and I could see the vast, complex, industrial machine stretched out before me. Then I looked down to the floor far below. Suddenly, I didn't want to be walking across any gangways, over such an abyss. Luckily, we were on the wrong staircase: this one didn't have a gangway. That decided me: I wasn't going onto the ship today - it was too dark, too tall and too atmospheric of some science fiction film in which a robot from the future could be expected to turn up at any minute. It just had an eerie feel to it.

I think the sheer scale of the vessel has a psychological effect on any who near it. People just feel so small and insignificant when set alongside it. It also didn't feel very safe. Though this was largely a product of the unfamiliarity of this most industrial of settings.

We climbed down. Solid ground felt very good beneath my feet.

When we came to the correct staircase, I had already decided against going up and we called it a day: that part of the visit would take place on another occasion.

Both Fintan and Tiarnan came away with a deep impression of the supertanker and the shipyard in general. It was the most unusual of lessons they could have had.

We relaxed later in the ambience of the Raffles Marina, which seemed an appropriate place to dine, among the yachts.

It was there that Tiarnan brought home to me how much he observes what goes on around him. You see, as I showed him the yachts in the harbour, he said: "Yacht!" I remembered, then, what he had said as we stood beneath the VLCC (supertanker): "Ship!" He knows the difference between a ship and a yacht.

It was a good night - and one that I doubt my children will ever forget. The Diamond Hope is quite simply the biggest man-made mega structure they have ever seen.

Now, I really know what "supertanker" means.

On a whim, I asked Ashish what was the value of the Diamond Hope: "250 million US Dollars".

I will have to upload a picture of the Diamond Hope, sometime, to give you some idea of what it was like.

Thank you Ashish and Priyanka for a most unusual experience.

(If you would like to learn more of Ainan Celeste Cawley, a scientific child prodigy, aged seven years and eleven months, or his gifted brothers, Fintan, four years and four months, and Tiarnan, twenty-one months, please go to: http://scientific-child-prodigy.blogspot.com/2006/10/scientific-child-prodigy-guide.html I also write of gifted education, IQ, intelligence, the Irish, the Malays, College, University, Chemistry, Science, genetics, left-handedness, precocity, child prodigy, child genius, baby genius, adult genius, savant, gifted adults and gifted children in general. Thanks.)

Happy Birthday, Syahidah!

Yesterday, was Syahidah's birthday: which one is, of course, a state secret.

We celebrated at home with scores of friends throughout the day from morning until night. There were friends from all over the world, there: Germany, India, Argentina, Guatemala, UK, Australia, New Zealand, Singapore, Malaysia, among others. It was a congenial day, for me, in particular, as I got to meet many of my wife's friends that I had not encountered before - as well as some I was familiar with.

Quite funny to note: among my wife's friends, all the husbands were universally good looking and intelligent - some of them very good looking indeed. It was enough to make an insecure man worried. It seems that all my wife's female friends were very good at picking their hubbies. They, too, were all intelligent and well presented.

Most of the guests brought their children so that two parties took place at the same time: the party for little people scurrying around at high speed, beneath our feet - and the party for big people, taking place more sedately, above them.

Conversation was varied an interesting, given the range of people present, varying from the nature of different cultures, education, biology, genetics, economics, banking, the state of society and many others. My wife and I both found it refreshing.

Happy Birthday, Syahidah!

(If you would like to learn more of Ainan Celeste Cawley, a scientific child prodigy, aged seven years and eleven months, or his gifted brothers, Fintan, four years and four months, and Tiarnan, twenty-one months, please go to: http://scientific-child-prodigy.blogspot.com/2006/10/scientific-child-prodigy-guide.html I also write of gifted education, IQ, intelligence, the Irish, the Malays, College, University, Chemistry, Science, genetics, left-handedness, precocity, child prodigy, child genius, baby genius, adult genius, savant, gifted adults and gifted children in general. Thanks.)

Does Anyone Read Anymore?

I live in Singapore, where English is the supposed first tongue, of all. Yet, at times, it doesn't seem so.

A couple of months ago, there was a long running promotion for a new TV series. The description of the series had the word "precious" in it.

The ads seemed to run for weeks, and weeks, and never did they change. That, I thought, was odd. You see, the word "precious" which was key to describing the series, and which appeared in relatively big letters on the TV ads, had been mispelt. It said: "Percious", that is right: "P-E-R-C-I-O-U-S". This ad was shown many times a day, for weeks - yet no-one in Mediacorp TV noticed this error - and no-one in the public called in about the matter. Or if they did, they were ignored.

Why did I not then call in? Well, because I have called in, in the past and either been ignored, or dismissed. So, of course, I stopped calling in and stopped trying to help them correct mistakes. Thus, instead of correcting their mistakes, I just watch them, note them and shake my head in amazement that still they persist in such things.

Of course, had they listened to me the first time around and perhaps hired me to check their output for errors, the quality of their work would have risen dramatically. Yet, that was not the response I received. None of my phonecalls regarding even more obvious errors were ever returned.

It is my belief that if standards of English are to be improved and maintained in a society that it should begin with the media, of all kinds. If there is a problem with a particular media outlet, they should be mature enough to take advice on board, and improve. Failing to do so, can only allow the situation to persist or worsen, to the detriment of all.

So, the lesson to be learnt from this is: if someone calls you to point out an error, listen to them - for they are trying to help. Such a person should never just be ignored, as I was, so many times.

(If you would like to learn more of Ainan Celeste Cawley, a scientific child prodigy, aged seven years and eleven months, or his gifted brothers, Fintan, four years and four months, and Tiarnan, twenty-one months, please go to: http://scientific-child-prodigy.blogspot.com/2006/10/scientific-child-prodigy-guide.html I also write of gifted education, IQ, intelligence, the Irish, the Malays, College, University, Chemistry, Science, genetics, left-handedness, precocity, child prodigy, child genius, baby genius, adult genius, savant, gifted adults and gifted children in general. Thanks.)