The true nature of Singapore's bilingualism.

To truly see what a country is, you have to ask outsiders how they see it. Those who have been brought up in a country cannot truly see what it is they live in. So, how do overseas people see Singapore's self-professed bilingualism?

Well, not perhaps in the way you might expect. Today, I had a conversation with an expat teacher about this. He was telling me how his student, a native of Mainland China, had complained to him about the language use of Singaporeans. This student was very puzzled. He said: "Before I came to Singapore, I thought my English was good - but when I tried to speak to Singaporeans in English, I couldn't understand their replies. Then I thought I should speak to them in Chinese, so I did so. But then, I couldn't understand their replies in "Chinese", either."

I was not surprised to hear this. Yet, it does speak of the true nature of the linguistic situation in Singapore. The Singaporean system has failed to produce citizens able to converse, to an international standard, in ANY language. A Chinese boy who had learnt Standard English in China, was unable to understand Singlish, at all. He had also, obviously, acquired Standard Mandarin - but couldn't understand Singaporean efforts at that, either. In fact, he described the Singaporean Chinese as "really bad".

To me, it seems strange that Singapore tells itself that it is a bilingual nation - and has an education system that ostensibly instils bilingualism - when people from overseas don't even see it as being capable in any language, at all. There is something wrong, therefore. Would it not be better to aim to be competent in ONE language, than incompetent in TWO? I think competent monolingualism is far superior to incompetent bilingualism. If, for instance, Singaporeans were masters of English, or masters of Chinese, they would, at least, be on a par with the British/Americans/Canadians etc. or the Mainland Chinese, on their own territory. As it is, the language that most - and I say most, because there will be exceptions - Singaporeans speak is unrecognizable by native speakers of the languages that Singaporeans are told that they are able to speak.

A clear policy on language learning is necessary. One policy that would improve matters greatly would be if ONLY NATIVE TEACHERS of languages were allowed to teach in Singaporean schools. This means that ONLY British (or other native speaker) teachers should be allowed to teach English - and ONLY Mainland Chinese teachers should be allowed to teach Chinese - and only Indian natives should be allowed to teach Tamil - and so on. In this manner, the students would be assured of the opportunity to learn a language to a high standard instead of being cheated of the opportunity, by teachers who are essentially ignorant of what correct language usage is.

I don't imagine that this policy will ever be enacted (perhaps because Singapore is already "No. 1" in everything and does not need to improve etc. etc...), but I can at least suggest that it is done, to the betterment of the future of Singapore.

(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.

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The Tower of Babel.

I live on the top flour of an apartment block in Singapore. I could, therefore, be said to live in a tower. Today, that tower seemed like the Tower of Babel, for a moment.

You will recall the tale of Babel, and of how the people of the Earth were fated not to be able to speak in a common tongue. Well, today, Fintan came rushing back from the swimming pool, his hair all wet, his body not yet dry, with urgent words on his lips.

His mouth opened before me, as his eyes searched mine and out poured a string of alien sounds.

I looked at him in puzzlement, trying to make sense of what he had said.

He repeated the alien sounds, clearly puzzled by my lack of response to what were clearly urgent words.

Everyone else in the room began to laugh...to Fintan's evident incomprehension: first I wouldn't react, second, everyone else was laughing. He didn't know why.

Then I told him: "Speak to me in English, Fintan."

At last he understood.

"Daddy, Ainan won't get out of the swimming pool!"

My second born son had spoken to me in Malay, in his urgency to be understood, not recalling, for a moment, that I speak very few words of that tongue.

It was a strange moment - and a distancing one. It felt very uncomfortable to see him so close to me, but unable to communicate. An awful remembrance comes to me now, of a South American man I once knew who was divorced from his Japanese wife. He spoke English and Spanish...but after a while his children began to forget their little English - and he was no longer able to communicate with his own children, for he had little Japanese. How terrible that must be. He had lost them more completely than just the divorce achieved. Well, today, for a moment, I felt that unbridgeable distance between father and son that comes when neither speaks the other's tongue.

Yet, there is another lesson here, too. It is that Fintan is becoming comfortable with his second language - so that he sometimes finds himself speaking it, without even realizing that he is doing so. One day, no doubt, he will be fully bilingual. He won't be my only son to be so.

I just hope he remembers to speak to me in English!

(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.)

Language School, Singapore: Tiarnan style.

Sometimes, my house is like a language school: the air is filled with the sounds of different languages, all competing for the attention of a baffled ear.

Such was it yesterday, but in a most entertaining way.

Tiarnan and Fintan had developed a different perspective over what should be the right name for various objects.

Fintan, four, pointed at a picture of a horse and said: "Horse."

Tiarnan, eighteen months, took exception to this: "Cuda!", he insisted, most fiercely in Malay.

Fintan didn't give up: "Horse." he repeated, again.

"Cuda!", shouted Tiarnan, with even more vigour, peering up at his towering brother, most indignantly.

Fintan evaluated the situation and said: "Cuda."

Tiarnan was pleased. His little tense body relaxed, letting his ire flow away. He had won, Malay it was to be.

Syahidah, their mother, had watched this scene unfold and, rather mischievously turned to Tiarnan and said: "Sit down."

This got him going. He flared up at once and turned on her: "Dudok!", he snapped, shouting the Malay for "sit down".

I found this interchange as informative as it was entertaining. Tiarnan is growing up bilingual in Malay and English. In this conversation, and in many others, he has shown a tendency to translate from one language to another, indeed, at times he seems an automatic translator. Given a word in one language, he will immediately give you the corresponding word in the other language. He is right everytime in his matching. What is revealing here, is that he has clearly developed a preference for Malay - and insists on defending his favoured language from the incursion of English (which he also speaks and understands anyway).

It might come down to the fact that his mother is Malay Singaporean and spends more time with him, than I am able to. Maybe he is, therefore, standing up for his mother. Sweet boy.

(If you would like to read more of Tiarnan, eighteen months, or his gifted brothers, Ainan Celeste Cawley, seven years and eight months, or Tiarnan, eighteen 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, child prodigy, child genius, baby genius, adult genius, savant, the creatively gifted, gifted adults and gifted children in general. Thanks.)

Early bilingual speech: Tiarnan's translations

Two weeks ago, Tiarnan did something I have never heard of a baby doing.

He was then twelve months old. His mother, Syahidah, said to him: "kuching". He immediately said: "cat" - a translation of the Malay word into English. He is making explicit his awareness of the two languages - and stating that they share words with common meaning, though different sound.

He continued this new behaviour later in the day as I was putting him to sleep. I was carrying him up the stairs and I said "tido" to him. He immediately said: "bed". He said it in such a way that he seemed to be correcting me, for he knew that I didn't speak Malay, normally, so why was I using it on him now?

It was notable that the translation came immediately upon the utterance of the word: as if he were playing verbal ping pong - I say a word, he says the translation. It is clear that he is building two good representations of language, with hints at a third - but more of that another time.

(If you would like to read more of Tiarnan or his gifted brothers, Ainan Celeste Cawley, a scientific child prodigy, aged seven years and two months, or Fintan, three, please go to: http://scientific-child-prodigy.blogspot.com/scientific-child-prodigy-guide.html I also write of gifted education, intelligence, IQ, child prodigy, child genius, baby genius, adult genius, savant, the creatively gifted, gifted adults and gifted children, in general. Thanks.)

Tiarnan's training regime

Yesterday we were at an Indian restaurant, in Orchard Road. We were with Tiarnan, eleven months, who managed to ensure that we couldn't focus on our food, so intent was he on deconstructing his new environment.

To control him, we placed him in a high chair: he fought his way to get out, trying every twist and turn he could think of, to free himself. So we took him out, which made him much happier, but much harder to handle. Oddly, he then tried to climb back into his high chair, lifting his leg up onto the first rung, followed by the second - and did, indeed, manage to secure himself halfway up the chair, his head looking over the top into the seat. I took him down.

Then, as if not satisfied with this degree of exercise, he sat between us on the chair and, for no apparent reason, started counting in Malay: "Satu, dua, tiga..." At each count, he rocked forward in his seat, as if doing mini-sit ups. I don't know of any time he has seen someone exercise in that manner, (I certainly don't) so I can only assume that the whim to count his sit ups - and to do them in the first place - came over him, of his own accord. It was the first time I have heard him count in Malay (though he has probably done so when I am not around): several months ago he started to count in English, in his sleep - I have posted on it, before.

Tiarnan looks set to be an athletic boy, so much does he enjoy moving around, climbing and exploring. He even appears to move rhythmically to music, so something in him wants to dance. He must have got that latter desire from his mother.

(If you would like to read more about Tiarnan or his gifted brothers, including scientific child prodigy, Ainan Celeste Cawley, seven years and one month, please go to: http://scientific-child-prodigy.blogspot.com/2006/10/scientific-child-prodigy-guide.html I also write of child prodigy, child genius, adult genius, savant, the creatively gifted, gifted children and gifted adults in general. Please note that I am presently unable to update the guide owing to problems with the edit post function in my blogger interface. I am trying to resolve the situation. Until I do, however, for recent posts you will have to go to the main page and look in the sidebar to the left. Thanks.)

Tiarnan's concern for his grandmother

Tiarnan is eleven months old. Yet, at times, he shows a sophisticated social understanding.

Yesterday, he saw his mother and grandmother talking at length. His grandmother was standing up. Seeing this, he approached her and took her hand, and said: "Dudok" which is Malay for "Sit down."

Two things were evident from this incident. Firstly, Tiarnan understood that his grandmother might be tired standing up - and was concerned for her. Secondly, he chose to use his grandmother's first language (which is not his own first tongue), knowing that she is more familiar with that, than with English, although she does speak English, too. As an act of social judgement, it showed quite a lot of finesse to expect from such a little boy.

With luck Tiarnan will grow into a socially sensitive young man - for he is already showing good signs. Carry on Tiarnan!

A trilingual conversation with baby Tiarnan

Three days ago, we were watching television. Nothing surprising about that. However, it was one of those Hollywood movies of Good vs Evil. Evil has to be someone and in the era in question, it was usually Russia. So a man speaks Russian on the TV. Tiarnan Hasyl Cawley, nine months, looked surprised. Never had he heard anyone speak so. He at once tried to copy the sounds he had heard, and managed to evoke their general sense, if not their specifics.

My wife then asked me to say something in Russian. I protested that I could not, but then remembered that I could. I asked, in Russian, "What would you like to drink?"

Tiarnan focussed on me, curiously, at this sudden access of oddness by his father. I told my wife what it meant, she repeated the meaning in English and, as if understanding that the game was to use a different language, Tiarnan answered in Malay: "Water."

It was hilarious, but also a little spooky. For he had grasped what was happening. I spoke a Russian question. My wife translated it to English - and he answered in Malay. The implicit rule of use a different language had been understood by him.

Nothing in all the Universe is more wonderful than a baby.

(If you would like to read of Ainan Celeste Cawley, a scientific child prodigy, and his gifted brothers, please go to: http://scientific-child-prodigy.blogspot.com/2006/10/scientific-child-prodigy-guide.html I also write of child prodigy, child genius, savant, in particular mathematical savant, the creatively gifted, gifted children and gifted adults in general.)