Portrait of the writer, in the eyes of others.

Have you ever wondered how others see you? Well, the other day, I thought I would ask.

I was having a discussion with two Koreans and a Chinese mainlander. They have all known me for some time, so they have had enough to exposure to form sufficient impressions worth expressing. I set them a collective task: to describe my personality.

They responded with some enthusiasm. They each had something to say, something to note. Gradually, a coherent portrait emerged, one that I found myself agreeing with, even finding myself surprised by their astuteness, in some respects.

The first thing that was observed came from a Korean girl: "You look pure, when you smile."

Then the Chinese woman: "You have very expressive body language."

The second Korean girl: "You are jovial: always laughing."

Other observations soon followed: "Gentle and calm...but always moving"; "Polite with careful speech."; "Knowledgeable, shown by the use of less common words, in speech"; "Calm and thoughtful, you evoke speech in others, then listen, quietly."; "Cool in manner."; "You are mysterious - difficult to know. Your facial expressions cannot be read, easily." and, finally, "You are not too concerned about what other people think about you."

It was interesting to hear what they had come to understand of me. It was also interesting to learn what aspects of myself were visible to others and to realize what they could not see.

Their portrait is by no means complete. It is, though, a glimpse, of what I appear to be from the outside, as witnessed by people who actually know very little about my life story (I haven't told them anything much about myself: I rarely do). Perhaps it might give you, too, an idea of what I might be like to meet, at least, from an Oriental perspective.

I see, though, that most of my interior life is not visible to them. There is so much that they have not observed. I suppose that all of that would be hidden in the "mysterious" part of me that they could not see through. I think they are right: much of me cannot be seen, readily - it takes too much time and too much exposure to become known. Then, again, many people do not have eyes readily equipped to see such things, or recognize them for what they are.

The portrait, though, has value for it is how others see me. It is not how I see myself. I realize that they have a partial impression. They are not wrong, in their view...just incomplete. They are not to be faulted, for this, however, for the things they cannot see, are not so visible. Then, again, there is no need for all things to be visible. I am satisfied with the way they see me. As for that which they could not see: let that remain "mysterious"!

(If you would like to learn more of Ainan Celeste Cawley, a scientific child prodigy, aged eight years and seven months, or his gifted brothers, Fintan, five years exactly, and Tiarnan, twenty-eight 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, Singapore, College, University, Chemistry, Science, genetics, left-handedness, precocity, child prodigy, child genius, baby genius, adult genius, savant, wunderkind, wonderkind, genio, гений ребенок prodigy, genie, μεγαλοφυία θαύμα παιδιών, bambino, kind.

We are the founders of Genghis Can, a copywriting, editing and proofreading agency, that handles all kinds of work, including technical and scientific material. If you need such services, or know someone who does, please go to: http://www.genghiscan.com/ Thanks.

This blog is copyright Valentine Cawley. Unauthorized duplication prohibited. Use Only with Permission. Thank you.)

The madness of the kiasu.

Kiasu is a Singaporean attitude that means "an extreme fear of losing out". It manifests as extreme competitiveness and desire to "beat" others in all things. It also leads to some astonishingly ugly behaviour.

Today, I encountered one of the most kiasu people I think I have ever had the misfortune to meet. She got on my bus, with her son, after school. Another boy, from the same school, followed them on. As soon as they had sat down - mother and son together on one seat - the other boy diagonally opposite, across the passageway, on his own - the mother was overcome with the strangest emotion: she seemed possessed.

She leant across the passage towards the other boy, bent almost double in her effort to get close to him. She bore down upon him like a truck upon a rabbit crossing the road and there was such fierceness in her. Her body was stiff with tension.

"What's your name?", she began with a strident, demanding tone, as if she was trying to shake him with her voice.

"Why?", he asked, quietly, aware that he was being threatened somehow.

"What's your name?" She continued, ignoring his question, raising her voice a little more, as if annoyed that he should dare to question her.

"W...w...wayne.", he stuttered, her aggressiveness making him nervous.

"How do you spell that?" She almost shouted at him, her words gouging into him.

"Why?", he asked again, clearly not knowing why this mother of his fellow schoolmate should be questioning him so.

"How do you spell that?" She continued, once again, ignoring his question and, once again, raising her voice, further.

"W...a...y...n...e"

"Wangy?" She snapped, seeming to think he was putting one over on her.

"W...A...Y..N...E", he repeated, responding unwillingly, but automatically, as if to an angry teacher.

"What's your mother's telephone number?" Again, she seemed to pounce on him. There was something SO predatory in her manner, voice and approach.

"Why?", he asked, in some distress, but quiet with it.

"What's your mother's telephone number?" She continued, again, ignoring his question, again raising her voice.

He gave her his number and repeated it for her to finally grasp. She wasn't too good at listening, accurately - too busy raising her voice.

"Are you in the same class as David?". She didn't really speak. Her words were spoken as if in a stabbing motion, plunging into him, as she leant over him.

He nodded, silently.

"What mark did you get in the last maths exam?" She was so tense that I rather thought she would reach out and grab him, if he didn't give her the answer.

"66". He said, very quietly.

"What?", she said, needing to make doubly sure.

"66". He repeated, a little louder.

"The same as me.", said the clearly mad woman's son.

I understood, by now, that I was witnessing the worst of kiasu attitudes in action. Here was a mother seeking competitive intelligence for her son, in her lifelong combat with the rest of the world.

The mother ignored her son's statement. She didn't even look at him, nor shift from her raised position above the hapless other boy. It was like she was a bird of prey and the boy was a shivering mouse.

"And what did you get in the last maths test?" She seemed angry now, angry that this boy had the same mark as her son.

"93", he said, very quietly indeed.

"What?" She seemed truly pissed.

"The same as me!", her son repeated, "He got the same as me!"

Again, the mother ignored her son. It was as if he hadn't even spoken. Her gaze...her ever so fierce gaze...remained pinned on the eight or nine year old boy who seemed affixed by it, unable to move.

"Who is your maths tutor?" She asked, virtually spearing him with her intensity.

He didn't answer.

"Who is your maths tutor?", She repeated, to no answer from him. It was unclear whether he did not know the man's name...or did not want to answer.

"How did you do in science?"

He didn't answer.

"Who is your science tutor?"

He didn't answer, but just shifted in his seat, as if seeking an escape, but finding none.

"Does your mother work?" She demanded, bullyingly.

He didn't want to answer. "Why?", he asked, painfully.

"Does your mother work?" Again, she raised her voice.

"Yes.", he said.

"What time is she back from work? Seven?" She had not the patience to wait for an answer, so suggested her own.

"Yes. Seven.", he answered, finally, unable to resist her bullying any further.

The mother turned from the boy then, and sat back in her seat. She didn't look at him at all, again. She had got what she wanted. For the rest of the time that she was on the bus, she didn't engage the boy in conversation, nor acknowledge his existence. Interestingly, her son didn't speak to the boy either. They shut him out. Neither mother nor son spoke to one another.

I resolved then to speak with this crazy woman when I rose to get off the bus, for she was behind me. Unfortunately, when it came to leave, I noted that she had got off before me, while my back was turned.

I have never witnessed such an aggressive questioning of a child before, in all my life. It was quite the most astonishing thing I have ever heard.

The most perturbing thing about it was the fury this woman seemed to have in her throughout the entire bullying tirade. She could not have been more aggressive had she been beating him, the whole while.

The question all of this leaves me with is this: would not Singapore be a better place without such kiasu attitudes? Does this characteristically Singaporean behaviour pattern make any positive contribution to life?

It is incidents like this that make me think that Singaporean education is a toxic experience best avoided. Perhaps everyone should homeschool, then no-one would have to put up with this kind of bullying for kiasu aims.

I rather hope the mother of Wayne gets to read this and realizes that she should not cooperate with the mother of David (as I presume her son to be).

(If you would like to learn more of Ainan Celeste Cawley, a scientific child prodigy, aged eight years and seven months, or his gifted brothers, Fintan, five years exactly, and Tiarnan, twenty-eight 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, Singapore, College, University, Chemistry, Science, genetics, left-handedness, precocity, child prodigy, child genius, baby genius, adult genius, savant, wunderkind, wonderkind, genio, гений ребенок prodigy, genie, μεγαλοφυία θαύμα παιδιών, bambino, kind.

We are the founders of Genghis Can, a copywriting, editing and proofreading agency, that handles all kinds of work, including technical and scientific material. If you need such services, or know someone who does, please go to: http://www.genghiscan.com/ Thanks.

This blog is copyright Valentine Cawley. Unauthorized duplication prohibited. Use Only with Permission. Thank you.)

Phil Spector, Barack Obama supporter and murderer.

Today, I saw the oddest of photos. In it, Phil Spector, fabled music producer and now murderer, wore a very smart suit, a red tie and a badge that said: 'Barack Obama Rocks'. He had presumably been photographed recently, while dressed up for a court or other public appearance.

I was struck by the incongruity of it all: a man up on murder charges, expressing his support for Barack Obama. Now, that the verdict has come in, it is a man convicted of murder, expressing his support for Barack Obama. Sometimes, even politicians, could do without the support of some people. However, being supported by someone is not a voluntary act and President Obama can't choose who he is supported by and not supported by. Most politicians, in fact, choose to be supported by anyone with a pulse...but in the case of Phil Spector, I think this is a mistaken approach.

In case you haven't been reading the news, lately, Phil Spector, who pioneered the 'wall of sound', through working with the Ronettes and went on to work with the Beatles and the Ramones, has a nasty personal habit. Apparently, according to the prosecution, he has a liking for pointing loaded revolvers at women, which have some, but not all, chambers empty and pulling the trigger. He is on record for having done this six times. (Note that a revolver usually has a capacity of six rounds). On the first five occasions, he managed only to frighten the women concerned, for the chamber was empty. On the sixth occasion, the prosecution contended, the chamber was full and Phil Spector, who had placed the gun in the mouth of Lana Clarkson (in the prosecution's view), killed the 40 year old nightclub hostess that he had met only hours before.

Now, on learning of this, I was struck by the madness of it all. Phil Spector is an immensely rich, successful and, until now, respected music producer. He had everything in the world one could wish for. Yet, there was in him a sadism so profound that he thought it reasonable to terrify young women with imminent death, on a regular basis. The contrast between his successful outer persona, and the demonic man within could not be greater.

Furthermore, I was struck by the stupidity of playing Russian roulette with the lives of so many women. It is stupid because the odds are not good. It was certain that he would kill someone if he continued playing this game, with woman after woman - which he did. Indeed, it is difficult to conceive of how anyone could be so demonstrably stupid as to play Russian roulette at all - yet still be mentally capable of running a successful career as a music producer. One could conclude that music producers don't need to be very bright, after all - or that he was either a deluded man, who thought that he would never be so 'unlucky' as to kill one of the women - or that he was, in fact, a murderous personality who rather hoped that he did kill one of the women. The choices aren't good.

One thing is for sure. After becoming a famous man, Phil Spector will be remembered not for his musical work, but for being one of the most callous murderers that has come to light in years. He shall now be remembered perhaps for much longer than he would have been - but whereas he once had fame, he now has infamy - and one that may endure far longer than he would hope.

(If you would like to learn more of Ainan Celeste Cawley, a scientific child prodigy, aged eight years and seven months, or his gifted brothers, Fintan, five years exactly, and Tiarnan, twenty-eight 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, Singapore, College, University, Chemistry, Science, genetics, left-handedness, precocity, child prodigy, child genius, baby genius, adult genius, savant, wunderkind, wonderkind, genio, гений ребенок prodigy, genie, μεγαλοφυία θαύμα παιδιών, bambino, kind.

We are the founders of Genghis Can, a copywriting, editing and proofreading agency, that handles all kinds of work, including technical and scientific material. If you need such services, or know someone who does, please go to: http://www.genghiscan.com/ Thanks.

This blog is copyright Valentine Cawley. Unauthorized duplication prohibited. Use Only with Permission. Thank you.)

Academic culture shock.

If you have ever taken the time to discuss academic systems with different people from all over the world, perhaps, you too, have encountered the academic culture shock, I met with recently.

When I was a pupil, at school, in England, I thought that school was long enough. It began at about 9 am and finished around 4 pm. Then we would have homework, which people did with various degrees of some attention: some putting in hours, others ignoring it and coming up with perennial excuses to explain its absence. This was what I came to think of as a normal, acceptable level of school demand.

Recently, however, I had the chance to talk with a group of Chinese mainlanders about their school experiences. Not expecting a very different answer to the one I had experienced in my childhood, I asked them when they started school in the morning. Various answers were given. "7.25 am"; "7.20 am" and "7 am".

"When did school finish?", I then asked.

"9.40 pm", "9.50 pm" and "10.30 pm", they gave, in the same order.

Therefore, the shortest school day, in this group of nine Chinese mainlanders turned out to be fourteen and a quarter hours. The longest school day was fifteen and a half hours long.

I was rather stunned to hear this as it sank in just what their school lives must have been like, to endure such hours, year in and year out, from childhood to adulthood.

"Our school day was shorter - but then we had homework to do after that." I pointed out, trying to bring these disparate school lives together in some way.

"We had homework, too." One said, in an emotionless voice, that spoke more of what it must have been like, than any histrionics could have done. "We would go home and do our homework and get to bed at 1 or 2 am. Then we would have to wake up at 6 am for school."

Silence was my only reply. I found myself slowly shaking my head, quite unable to take in what such a schooling must have been like.

They found my reaction amusing, and laughed a little, perhaps recognizing in my stunned silence the truth of their own experiences.

"That is why we came to Singapore to study.", one confessed.

Yes. Here, in Singapore, a nation of famously hardworking students, they would find comparative ease, for although Singapore's students worked hard compared to those in the West, schools here were much more relaxed than in China. Singaporean schools actually had relatively brief hours.

Upon further enquiry, it turned out that their breaks during the day amounted to one and a half hours. Half an hour was for lunch. One hour was for sleeping. At least, that is how one student apportioned the time.

I think it is true to say that no nation on Earth has harder working students, than China. Were it so that hard work alone could conquer the world, then the future is undoubtedly Chinese. Yet, I think it is not so. These students told me how unhappy many of them were at this regime. They also told me how boring lessons were. I rather felt that many of them didn't get much out of the experience. One of them even said: "It was torture."

Hard work has value. Yet, I feel that when it is pushed to a pathological extreme - as it is in China - it becomes a kind of national illness. China's students lead the most circumscribed, controlled lives imaginable. They do not have what most people would regard as a childhood. They have what could be called a "bookhood". Their entire childhoods are consumed by a mountain of books; boring books, books they don't want to read - but have to.

For them, it is such a relief to be in Singapore. Here the demands, though significant by world standards, are at least not inhumane. Here the workload is manageable and not insane: at least, from their exhausted perspectives.

Tellingly, each of the nine PRCs I spoke to in that group felt that China's education system was wrong. They all felt that it should be changed, that what it was doing to students was terrible. They felt free to speak out, because they were not in China and I was not Chinese. Indeed, each of them had the same tale to tell of leaving their country, to escape the education system. Their motivation, therefore, was a negative one: it was not a positive decision to seek out Singapore, but a need to avoid the negative experience that was Chinese education. All of them were happier here, despite missing their families.

It is a long time since I have been shocked by something someone said. Yet, I found myself genuinely shocked to learn of the academic demands of the Chinese education system. I had known that they worked hard...but I had no idea just how hard. It is quite cruel.

For the rest of the world, there is a lesson here, about China. It is a nation whose students are pushed to the human limit. Every waking hour is consumed by schooling. I doubt there has ever been another nation so driven in this way. That is what the rest of the world is competing with. It will be interesting to see how this plays out. Does this excessive hard work in school give the Chinese an edge? Or does it create exhausted resentful children, who will rebel at the first opportunity? Is China building greatness or destroying itself, with this manic educational regime? The next few decades will be revealing.

(If you would like to learn more of Ainan Celeste Cawley, a scientific child prodigy, aged eight years and seven months, or his gifted brothers, Fintan, five years exactly, and Tiarnan, twenty-eight 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, Singapore, College, University, Chemistry, Science, genetics, left-handedness, precocity, child prodigy, child genius, baby genius, adult genius, savant, wunderkind, wonderkind, genio, гений ребенок prodigy, genie, μεγαλοφυία θαύμα παιδιών, bambino, kind.

We are the founders of Genghis Can, a copywriting, editing and proofreading agency, that handles all kinds of work, including technical and scientific material. If you need such services, or know someone who does, please go to: http://www.genghiscan.com/ Thanks.

This blog is copyright Valentine Cawley. Unauthorized duplication prohibited. Use Only with Permission. Thank you.)

The Super Secret PAP Kindergarten.

Openness and transparency are much spoken of in Singapore. Many a time, the national newspapers of Singapore have reassured me that Singapore's government is one of the most transparent around.

This most transparent of all governments is called the PAP. (The People's Action Party, whose main "action", for the entire history of Singapore, is to have remained in power.) The PAP maintains a series of low-cost kindergartens throughout the length and breadth of Singapore. Since the kindergartens are affiliated to the PAP, I rather expected them to embody the values of their sponsoring government.

Today, my wife called quite a few kindergartens seeking a place for one of our sons. He is not happy where he is, presently, so we thought to find somewhere else for him. Being open of mind and prepared to give anywhere a chance, we thought to place a call to a local PAP kindergarten, among the other selections we had made, just to see what they had to say for themselves and to find out more about what kind of education they actually offered young children. It was a most instructive phone call.

Firstly, no-one wanted to take the phonecall. Teacher after teacher came to the phone, heard what Syahidah wanted, put the phone down and wandered off. Others picked up the phone in due course and did the same. She began to ask to speak to a supervisor. After the phone had passed through many unwilling, uninterested and unhelpful hands, she finally got to speak to the "supervisor". It wasn't much of an improvement.

Syahidah explained that she was looking for a school for her son.

"Could I come and see the school?", Syahidah asked, then, quite reasonably.

"That's not the policy.", said the PAP supervisor, firmly.

"Oh, I would just like to look around.", continued Syahidah, even more reasonably.

"What do you mean "look around"...if you REGISTER then you can look around.", said the PAP supervisor, as if nothing could be more obvious.

Ah. So, you can't see this school, until you agree to join it. That is like a shop where you can't see what you can buy, until you have already bought it.

"I want to look around before I register.", said Syahidah even more reasonably than before.

"Cannot.", said the PAP supervisor, even more firmly.

"Could I see a lesson conducted, then?", said Syahidah, with more patience than many could have managed.

"Cannot!", said the PAP supervisor, immovably.

Finally the PAP supervisor could take this enquiry no longer: "Why you want to see, ah?", she asked, as if truly puzzled why any parent would want to actually SEE the school their child was to go to.

Syahidah gave up. There was no way that our son was going to go to ANY PAP kindergarten, given that kind of approach to parents.

Though she had tried her best, Syahidah had gained only two pieces of information about the school: that none of the staff wanted to speak to a prospective parent - and that this particular PAP kindergarten was the most secretive organization she had ever encountered. So much for transparency and openness...even the kindergartens behave as if they are the secret service.

Usually, an organization reflects the values of its founders, organizers and sponsors. There is an interesting message, therefore, in the behaviour of this PAP kindergarten. We were left wondering just what it is that the PAP is doing to young children in its kindergartens that they just don't want prospective parents to see. We were left with no idea if the education received is good or bad. We were left with no idea if the children are well looked after or not. The only impression we were left with is a complete unwillingness to be forthcoming about what type of school it was and what exactly happened there. As you can imagine, in consequence, we don't feel secure in sending any of our children, to any such school.

This is our first encounter with a PAP kindergarten. It shall also be our last. It cannot be good when a school is super secretive with prospective parents. It does suggest that perhaps parents might not like what they would see, were they allowed to see anything at all. Either that, or it reflects a total contempt for the parents. Either one is unacceptable to us.

Luckily, one other conversation with a school turned out much better. They were warm, welcoming and forthcoming. They could also speak English properly. So, not every school in Singapore is like the "Super Secret PAP kindergarten" we called. That school is not affiliated to the PAP...and could not have been more open. I thought this an interesting lesson.

(If you would like to learn more of Ainan Celeste Cawley, a scientific child prodigy, aged eight years and seven months, or his gifted brothers, Fintan, five years exactly, and Tiarnan, twenty-eight 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, Singapore, College, University, Chemistry, Science, genetics, left-handedness, precocity, child prodigy, child genius, baby genius, adult genius, savant, wunderkind, wonderkind, genio, гений ребенок prodigy, genie, μεγαλοφυία θαύμα παιδιών, bambino, kind.

We are the founders of Genghis Can, a copywriting, editing and proofreading agency, that handles all kinds of work, including technical and scientific material. If you need such services, or know someone who does, please go to: http://www.genghiscan.com/ Thanks.

This blog is copyright Valentine Cawley. Unauthorized duplication prohibited. Use Only with Permission. Thank you.)

Happy Easter Sunday 2009

I still can't quite get used to the idea that it is already 2009. Now, in fact, it is Easter 2009. Someone, somewhere is making these years shorter.

Anyway, short year or not: Happy Easter All, wherever you may be.

(If you would like to learn more of Ainan Celeste Cawley, a scientific child prodigy, aged eight years and seven months, or his gifted brothers, Fintan, five years exactly, and Tiarnan, twenty-eight 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, Singapore, College, University, Chemistry, Science, genetics, left-handedness, precocity, child prodigy, child genius, baby genius, adult genius, savant, wunderkind, wonderkind, genio, гений ребенок prodigy, genie, μεγαλοφυία θαύμα παιδιών, bambino, kind.

We are the founders of Genghis Can, a copywriting, editing and proofreading agency, that handles all kinds of work, including technical and scientific material. If you need such services, or know someone who does, please go to: http://www.genghiscan.com/ Thanks.

This blog is copyright Valentine Cawley. Unauthorized duplication prohibited. Use Only with Permission. Thank you.)