Age limits and educational frustration

Ainan learns his most significant lessons at home. His scientific education has proceeded, from the beginning, at home, without any notable aid from the school system. His only teacher has been me.

Yet, at times I feel that he should have some variety. On seeing an advertisement by the ITE (Institute of Technical Education) offering maths courses for "Under 40 year olds", I duly applied on Ainan's behalf, being fairly sure that, as I am just 40 myself, that my son was assuredly under 40 himself. It was my thinking that he would benefit from having another place at which to learn, other than at home with me and a book.

After a couple of days, I received the reply. It stated that they would be unable to accept Ainan owing to the fact that he was under 16 years of age. As if by magic, a new age limit had been invented specifically to exclude Ainan, it seemed. They had advertised "under 40"...not "over 16".

I was disappointed, but not surprised. The sign of a nation with a future is the ability to make exceptions. We are still waiting for them to make an exception around here.

It looks like most of Ainan's real education will come from himself, myself and a lot of choice books. The institutions that are reputed to be responsible for educating him, don't seem too motivated to do so - at least not according to his needs.

The ITE adminstrator did offer one suggestion: that we seek private tuition. Well, Ainan has never had a private tutor - and the reason is the same reason most children don't have one: the one hundred dollars an hour that is typically charged by such tutors. When I see fees like that I just think of all the books that could be bought instead. Then I can tutor him myself, with a well-stocked library, to boot.

There should be no age limits where education is concerned: only ability limits. If you have the ability, you should have the access. Otherwise, the system is just hampering the development of its most able students. Is that of benefit to the nation?

(If you would like to learn more of Ainan Celeste Cawley, a scientific child prodigy, aged eight years and one month, or his gifted brothers, Fintan, four years and seven months, and Tiarnan, two years exactly, 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, Singapore, 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.)

Why does no-one speak out?

Today, I went to the post office and learnt something more of the nature of the Singaporean people.



The post office is just like Singaporean banks: prone to long queues and slow service. Today, however, the post office staff excelled themselves. They seemed to be competing with each other to do as little as possible to while away the hours - and get paid for their time. I only wish they were actually paid for what they do.



When I arrived at Killiney post office this afternoon at 4.40 pm, there were five post office staff present. That seems a reasonable number. Oddly, however, only one of them seemed to be attending to customers. The others had adopted various postures of idleness. There were two people sat behind the counter - one serving, the other hiding behind a sign that said their position was closed.



The queue wasn't a long one but it was a very, very slow one. There were only about four people ahead of me in the queue - but it was a full twenty to twenty five minutes before I got to the front of the queue. That is far too slow, for so few people waiting.



As I waited, gradually more stations were opened. First two, then finally three. (That still left two staff doing apparently nothing, of course).



However, this did not seem to speed matters up particularly. I waited at the front of the queue for a good five minutes before something both bizarre and unwelcome occurred.



A very large woman (larger than me) wearing bright yellow, one or two places from the back of the queue, gestured to one of the post office staff with two objects in her hands. He was the man at the "Speedpost" counter. (I know it is a funny name for such a slow postal service!) He had been serving general customers as well as "Speedpost" customers. He looked at what was in her hands and gestured that she should come over to him.



I was shocked. I had been waiting in the queue for far too long - and so had everyone else - yet this woman from the back of the queue was being gestured to come forward to be served immediately.



He attended to the objects she held. Then she presented him with a huge pile of bills that I had not previously seen. (Bills can be paid at Singaporean post offices). She proceeded to pay each bill, one at a time.



I looked at this scene in amazement. Others too had seen her jump the queue and get served without having to wait like everyone else. However, I was particularly irked since she had taken what should have been my place.



What I was more amazed by was everyone else's reaction. Though what this large, yellow lady had done was unjust to all who had waited for perhaps 20 to 30 minutes in the queue, no-one, absolutely no-one said anything. They all accepted this injustice in silence.



I saw in their silence a more general tendency not to speak out. A nation of people who won't speak out on the little things, won't speak out on the big things, either. Here was a nation of people that anyone, absolutely anyone, with a bit of nerve, could treat unjustly - and no-one would say a word. They would accept the unjust circumstance, rather like they accept the rain - as if it is something about which they can do nothing.



As I watched their communal silence, and their evident communal awareness that someone wasn't playing fair, I grew ever more perturbed. There was something unnatural in the way they accepted her selfish action, without comment. The natural response of most people would be to complain to the woman or the staff member who had served her. Such a response would be prompted by emotions innate to all humans, everywhere. Yet, those emotional responses were either absent from, or not expressed by, these Singaporeans. I wondered, then, what had been done to these people to make them so suppress their natural response to injustice. It seemed as if they had deeply imbibed the lesson that silence must be maintained in the face of all that is wrong with the world. It was most odd.

Finally a counter became free and I was served. It took no more than 45 seconds to attend to my simple task - though I had waited at least half an hour to be attended to.

As I was leaving, I approached the staff member who was still busily serving the queue jumper.

"Why did you let her jump the queue?" I asked him, in a voice loud enough to be heard by all in the room, but not so loud as to be unrestrained.

He stared up at me in silence.

"Don't you know it is bad manners?", I continued.

His silence remained unbroken.

"It shouldn't be allowed. It is unfair on everyone else."

His grey hair framed his uncommunicative face, but he refrained from speech.

Interestingly, the woman who had queue jumped said nothing either. Surely, she knew that what she had done was wrong.

Somewhat depressingly, the whole queue of customers looked on, in silence. Not one person took the chance to join in, in support. Not one person joined me in voicing a complaint. What is the point of standing up for a people who will not stand up for themselves? It is a thankless task. These people didn't even speak up for themselves when someone else had stepped forward to do so (providing them an example) - not even that could prompt them to speak.

The funny thing is, from the way they maintained their silence when I spoke out, it was almost as if I, too, was breaking a social rule when I complained - the one that said: "Don't speak out, no matter what!"

I left Killiney post office with a much lower opinion of its staff - and a better understanding of the Singaporean people.

It is clear that something in the culture here denies the natural responses of all humans to react to injustice - on both an emotional and intellectual level. The natural emotional expressiveness common to all humans, is stifled here.

In the western countries I have lived in, I would have expected the customers in the queue to berate the woman for jumping the queue, at the very least. It is likely that an arguement would have ensued. In some countries, it is even possible that that arguement may have become physical. I would also have thought that the staff member would have scolded her and sent her back to the queue. This would have been a typical outcome for her attempt to jump a half hour queue, at the expense of everyone else. However, nothing happened apart from a sullen silence from all who were present.

I would welcome comments from Singaporeans themselves as to what urges them to silence in situations when people from virtually everywhere else in the world, would speak out. I am sure a lot of people would be interested to know.

(If you would like to learn more of Ainan Celeste Cawley, a scientific child prodigy, aged eight years and one month, or his gifted brothers, Fintan, four years and seven months, and Tiarnan, two years exactly, 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, Singapore, 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 Land of Pink Elephants

My father has his own ways of engaging with children. These were cultivated in my own childhood, many years ago.

While we were being driven in a taxi, through Singapore, the kids, particularly Tiarnan, twenty-four months, would become restless, at times. My father had a solution. He would point out of the window and go: "Look, there is a pink elephant!". Tiarnan and Fintan would duly look out of the window in search of this fabled creature. They would strain and peer closely at each and every cloud in the sky.

"Oh, it just went behind that cloud!", my father would further explain.

They would duly examine the cloud, for a hint of this pink elephant.

At one point, Fintan even said: "I see it! I see it!"

We turned to him.

"It is a white elephant.", he clarified. "There." He pointed up at a white cloud.

"A white elephant on a white cloud...very good, Fintan." I said.

Throughout his time here, my father would send the children on a hunt for a pink elephant whenever they seemed restless in the car.

When we got to Bintan, in Western Indonesia, we boarded a bus for the resort. The bus drove through an empty land, without any sign of housing or habitation - it was just a forest of small trees and tangled jungle.

While we drove across this green vista, the kids looked out of the window. Alongside the road were a series of electricity pylons (which Tiarnan pointed out to us, as something unusual, for he noted that he had never seen one before. In fact, he was the first to notice them. Singapore doesn't have them.)

Pylon after pylon sprinted past us.

Suddenly, Syahidah burst out laughing. "I saw an elephant, a pink elephant!"

I thought she was joking or had misperceived.

I looked but could not see a pink elephant. How odd it was that even I, now, was searching for a pink elephant.

"It was on the pylon: a pink elephant."

Ah. Now I understood. Some of the pylons had animals attached to them.

I joined her in laughter. After days of my father pointing out the window at mythical pink elephants flying through the sky, we had finally seen a flying pink elephant, suspended high up on an electricity pylon. How bizarre. It reminded me of the time I had promised Fintan a dinosaur mere minutes before stumbling across a large wild lizard. How funny is life: we make a joke with our children and it duly comes true. Hilarious.

So, the kids did get to see a pink elephant after all. My father is wiser than I could ever know. There are pink elephants in this world - and they do fly. At least, they do in that unheralded land of the pink elephant: Bintan.

(If you would like to learn more of Ainan Celeste Cawley, a scientific child prodigy, aged eight years and one month, or his gifted brothers, Fintan, four years and seven months, and Tiarnan, two years exactly, 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, Singapore, 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.)

Record Breakers Singapore TV Show

Yesterday, we had an unusual surprise for my father.

We were staying at the Bintan Lagoon Resort - which is a rather pleasant beach side resort on the Indonesian Island of Bintan. All was fine with it - barring the fact that they seem to have acquired an excessive love of money.

We sat my father in front of the TV at lunchtime on the day of our departure, having arranged a late checkout to do so.

Onto the screen came a show of no apparent relevance. It was the Record Breakers - Singapore Edition, TV show - a sort of localized Guiness Book of World Records TV programme. On the screen were two teams from different schools competing against each other, against a themed backdrop of Singaporean or World Records. The skills of the students were matched against known record breakers.

The first record was the "First 360 degree water ski facility in Singapore" - not much of a record, but fun. The children had to use the ski facility, to the best of their ability. The second record was for the most frog jumps in a minute. Again, the children had to test their ability against this, by doing frog jumps for a minute (though they didn't do real ones).

My father sat through this, perhaps a little disinterested. But then something strange happened. Our son, Ainan, appeared on the TV screen. He was there as the record breaker for the youngest O level holder (they incidentally mentioned him to be the youngest science teacher known, too - starting at six).

Ainan had designed a challenge for the children. It was a chemical structural design. It was very elegant - but required a lot of spatial perception from the competitors, for them to divine what it actually was. The task was simple: they had to view the structure for a limited time, then reconstruct it, using polystyrene balls and satay sticks. It seems like a simple enough task - but it was far from being so. Though the show only covered the segment in a few minutes, the actual contestants took perhaps half an hour or more, to finish. The difficulty arose in being able to understand what they were seeing. Ainan's structure was inherently beautiful, but also a bit mystifying, since, if you did not truly understand the inherent form, you could misperceive it as something else - which is what they did. They built what they saw, and not what was actually there.

To help them along, Ainan commented on their work, telling them exactly where they were going wrong. To do so, he had to analzye their structure, and note its disparities from the original, and tell them where the flaws were and what they were. This was not an easy task since many balls and many sticks were involved and the structures they built were not only wrong, but quite complex. Yet, Ainan was able to see through their work and relate it to where they should be.

Ainan's guidance did the trick - and though they had floundered for perhaps half an hour, after his feedback, one team began to home in on the true design. They were the Malay team.

The teams were to ask Ainan to judge their structures when they thought they had succeeded. The Malay team was the first to do so and called him over. After a brief glance at their work, he announced that their design had won. The Malay team were the winners. The other team was from the Australian International School. They tried hard - but the true nature of the structure eluded them, for too long.

It was an odd experience to see Ainan on television. He was softly spoken throughout and looked a little heavier on screen, than he does in reality. (He is really very slim - so it was unsettling to note that his face looked more rounded on tv: how much fatter would a fat person look, then, if this is what tv did to Ainan's face?!)

I think Ainan did well on his tv appearance. He was composed, and not nervous. He spoke clearly, and succinctly - and was patient throughout the filming (he sat quietly to himself between takes, attracting the puzzled question from a production team member of: "Is he always this quiet?").

Most interesting of all, however, was my father's reaction. I think he was rather proud to see his grandson acknowledged in this way.

I am happy that the timing of the broadcast coincided with my father's visit so that he got to see it - and that Western Indonesia carries Singaporean television.

Our thanks to Thum and the entire production team of Record Breakers - Singapore Edition, for thinking to include Ainan as one of their record breakers. He really enjoyed the experience - and I think learnt something new from it. After all, working on camera is a whole new set of skills in itself - and Ainan got a chance to experience that.

It also allowed us, of course, to surprise my father in a very unusual way.

(If you would like to learn more of Ainan Celeste Cawley, a scientific child prodigy, aged eight years and one month, or his gifted brothers, Fintan, four years and seven months, and Tiarnan, two years exactly, 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, Singapore, 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.)