A fission of givin'

A church raises $21 million within a 24-hour period. It's big news because of the recent public discussions over the amassed riches of organized religion, raising suspicion and alleging impropriety in the raising and disbursement of such monies by what are ostensibly non-profit organizations.

This story reminds me of the miracle of the five loaves and two fish recorded in the Gospels (Jn 6:5-6:15, etc.). The mystery of this miracle is in how limited quantities of matter (bread and fish) can be multiplied several times over to feed 5000 people, while leaving behind significant excess, without breaking the laws of Newtonain physics.

If that is the question, we are looking at the miracle in the wrong way. In a crowd of 5000, it is quite inconceivable that the only food resource among them is five loaves and two fish that only one boy had the presence of mind to take with him that day. If one boy could have packed a meal with him there'd be many others who'd have brought food along too. This boy, however, gets his place in canonical history because his offer to share his resources catalysed a mass movement of the "haves" to share their resources with the "have-nots". The miracle isn't about the violation of the laws of physics but in getting people to share what they have willingly with others, and that is no mean feat.

We can account for the excess gathered at the end of the feeding frenzy by the Principle of the Buffet Table. Because everyone has some they become polite and will settle for a little less just in case someone ends up with none. We can count this effect as either altruism or a sensitivity to "good form". Either way, the buffet table will always have left-overs. This effect is all the more likely to occur if the environment or event itself encourages civic consciousness or at least consideration for others.

Such an environment is palpable in CHC in which communal involvement is strongly emphasized among a very large and inclusive population base representing a wide range of mixed incomes. With the environment primed for placing others before self, it only takes a small catalyst to ignite a fission of givin'. $21 million in 24 hours? Is that all?

Celebrating us

In today's celebration of Education Professionals, the student body organized a concert tribute to us. All performances were dance items, including NYeDC's. Makes sense because in a large hall with poor acoustics the only things that will keep and hold our audience's attention are music, colour and movement. No one can follow a storyline under such conditions.

Our item was set to the Muppets' version of 'Bohemian Rhapsody' depicting various classroom interactions between students and different teacher personalities. Not strictly dance, more like mime and movement though we're still a bit rough at that.

The noobs who came on after us brought the house down, as I expected they would. They really showed that our staff aren't the stodgy no-lifers that we appear to be. They said they toned down some of the raunchiness from the staff dinner performance, but I don't remember seeing anything particularly tasteless then.

Spent the afternoon in good company. Lunch at Jones the Grocer where I finally found a place that offers pastrami sandwiches. Also ordered a cheese platter to share. The atmosphere here is very pleasant. Attentive wait staff always on hand with water refills and dish clearing. Expensive, though. Pastrami sandwich was more sandwich than pastrami. Though the bread was lovely and chunky and thick, I prefer the pastrami filling to be thicker than the bread slices holding the whole thing together. This is all Joey Tribbiani's fault for setting my expectations so unrealistically high!

In other madness, while Mel and Wendy A adjourned to parts unknown, the rest of us adjourned to Ben & Jerry's where we drank so much water Wayne had to justify the presence of so many shotglasses on our table. Here he attempts to build Dempsey Hill's tallest free-standing structure of dining crockery, setting the record at ten individual pieces in a stack. Amy's pix captures this historic moment (left). HP's wallet went missing; Josh displayed some dexterous sleight-of-hand in his vanishing act; To*ny displayed outstanding clumsiness in making said item reappear. Brilliant.

To all teachers working tomorrow on Teachers' Day... why?

The tiger in the tank

Some of the best teaching moments occur during individual consultation periods when the kids actually come with questions to discuss. I've learned my lesson about focusing my consults on content -- don't offer them any more than they themselves have offered already. Telling them what info they should have included here and there when they didn't have such info in the first place just demoralizes them and makes them feel like they're never going to catch up with the bar we keep raising.

More content isn't going to help, especially when it wasn't their content to begin with. My strategy from now is to focus on extending mileage on what information they already have, always with the caveat that in the interim between now and their finals there's still time to build up more content on their own.

I think that's the best strategy to take into the exam hall because that's exactly what they're expected to produce. The test is on maximizing what they have brought into the venue, that's it. There's nowhere else they can get more content from, not till they change the nature of the test anyway.

Some ground rules we established from today's discussion:

• Absolute #1 rule: Always tell the Truth -- don't know, don't write.
• Reasoning counts for more than content.
• Broad-based content produces more mileage than focused topical content.
• Content is flexible and the same content can be used to respond to many questions
• Good responses strongly link supporting content with question requirements.
• Argument always precedes balance, and not the other way around.
• Every question must be taken on its own merit. There is no "aren't I supposed to...?" If the question does not ask for it, don't.
• Time taken to analyse question requirements is better use of time than planning (or worse, committing to) a response without first knowing what the question wants.

No particular order of importance, though. It's not a process but guidelines to keep in mind. Yes, very common-sense, but a guided-analytical approach is far better than the panic-vomit approach.

It was particularly enlightening when a kid asked me to analyse an Economics question because she didn't understand why her interpretation was deemed wrong by both her own mates and the Econs tutor. I told her to use the GP method of analysing questions on this one. She was dubious at first, but a lightbulb went on as she proceeded. Now she could clearly see what the question wanted and why her answer was so far off base.

Arby always remarks how the kids don't seem to think when they approach questions in his subject. Perhaps they didn't have the right tools and the know-how to use them correctly in the first place. Ladies and gentlemen, today we might have made a breakthrough! Hope this time it has longer legs.

The Rambo and Friends Show

In 'The Expendables', Stallone rounds up the venerable action heroes of yesteryear and throws them all into his latest celluloid outing. Snipes is missing, though. Guess even they couldn't arrange a jailbreak for him.

The story is nonsense. Stallone's small group of mercenaries get hired to take out a Banana Republic Generalissimo for an offer of cash, but they find another reason to do the job for free like the true-blue all-American good guys they are. Even Li. The story, as we know, is just an excuse for pitting one action hero against another using fists and feet, blades, guns, vehicles and explosive ordnance, as far as the alliances between them can stretch the boundaries of credibility.

But there's the fun, isn't it? Who cares much about plot in a movie that promises action and delivers spectacle? On the cards: Lundgren vs Li; Stallone vs Austin; in a handicap match Statham vs a bunch of recreational b-ball players; Statham vs Rourke in knife throwing action; eh, and the other tough guys who are unfamiliar to me off-hand don't get all that much air time (maybe that's why they're called the Expendables?). Real big-time stars like Willis and Ah-nold show up too, though they get cameo roles in which they talk tough and leave.

In typical boy fashion, Stallone and Co take down an entire nation, ruining it's political infrastructure; internal security and air-defence forces; economic and industrial capabilities (main export appears to be cocaine); and it's primary imp-ex facility (a single docking pier). Why boy fashion? If Stallone had just asked nicely, I'll bet all this senseless destruction and mayhem and the occasional expendable (small 'e') disintegrating in a shower of gore and gibs could have been avoided. But then, with his mumble, even if he did ask nicely nobody would have understood him anyway. Out come the guns again.

Yeah, I needed to watch a mindless, testosterone-heavy, male-bonding action flick. It's marking season, don't you know? Let the blood-letting begin!


Via: Term Life Insurance

Sacrifice of dignity

Combined schools dinner time again. Every year our family of schools gather to congratulate each other over a formal Chinese dinner and sit through the evening's entertainment. This year, the Big Wee Man himself presided over the festivities and came over personally to offer a toast to each table. That's an honour we don't get every day.

Very proud of our newbies. Every year (apart from a couple of notable exceptions) it's the obligation of the new blood to offer an item for the showcase of performances. Consider this sacrifice of dignity as their initiation ceremony into their new place of occupation.

Our noobs delivered a double-bill, the first inspired by Stomp ('live' percussion performance group, not official Singaporean tattletale/complaints website) and the second a dance number to 'Bad Romance' which was a hoot-and-a-half. Coordinated zombie jerky movements choreographed to bad, loud music. Can't fail! Really looking forward to their encore performance in Tuesday's concert back on campus. The kids deserve to end their special day on a high.

Trapped for months

I'm not one to make light of a bad situation, but being trapped in a collapsed mine for four months waiting for rescue sounds like a great way to take a vacation off work. Especially when my rescuers are taking care of my nutrition, entertainment and potty needs -- i.e., everything they can to keep my morale up so that I wouldn't develop claustrophobic bonkers syndrome and kill all my fellow survivors around me. Books, video games and all the antidepressants I can eat for four months. Tempting.

Mom's green thumbs

The frangipani stem June and I brought back from Hawaii as a souvenir for Mom finally bloomed. We're talking about a trip that even pre-dates this blog, so yeah, it was worth a photo.

Pix taken by Mom and sent via Bluetooth in a cell phone to cell phone transfer. First time for Mom, and she's quite proud of herself about it.

In a sad coincidence Mom's minor celebrity neighbour sold his house recently, and the new owner chopped down the beautiful frangipani tree growing in the garden. It and a couple of other large plants were in pieces on the sidewalk waiting for the next garbage pick-up. Why can't the new owners just move in to the existing premises without uprooting the other residents who have just as much right to be there?

Mom picked up a promising couple of branches off the sidewalk, hoping to regrow them in her garden. If our twig transplanted from Hawaii could thrive till today, these have a fighting chance to live on. We're counting on Mom's green thumbs to work that miracle.

Shy beauty

In commemoration of today's special event, it had to be nothing less than a first class slab of beef done by people who understand the meaning of 'rare'.

This gorgeous hunk of fillet mignon was demure and fairly trembling with anticipation in my presence. As she opened up to my advances, a delightful blush of pink rose to meet my gaze; so warm and tender as she met my mouth again and again. Yes, a truly 'rare' carnal experience with such a pretty filly. She didn't come cheap either, but there was reason to celebrate tonight.

Location: Stuart Anderson's Black Angus Steakhouse, NUS Bukit Timah Campus. A touch of nostalgia too because this was my campus for  year when it was NIE, NTU, before NUS took it back. There's a smart casual dress code though we didn't see it strictly enforced.

Fire! Fire!

On the pretext that there were important papers to be signed in the staff lounge, dNYel had me charging straight in, wondering why there was so much fuss over such a minor issue. Once inside, they sprang a real fire for me to fight. The flames were huge and I couldn't even approach without first donning a protective fire-retardant suit and arming myself with a high-pressure hose.

Fortunately, my fire-fighting skills were as sharp as ever. When the flames finally died down, we celebrated with cake while keeping our tootsies warm in the dying embers of the sudden blaze. Toasted marshmallows would have been a nice touch to follow up.

Thanks for igniting the flames, my friends! The warmth will stay with us long after we've moseyed off into the sunset.

Service or slavery

Poor YOG volunteers. Such terrible working conditions, bad food, unappreciated servitude. I can almost feel for this forlorn complainant slogging it out at the Olympic Village. Almost.

Sorry. Whatever he may call himself, his heart and mind are not those of a volunteer. He sees himself as an indentured slave; and so he is, compelled to labour under his own sense of injustice at the drastic, if temporary, upheaval in his usual day-to-day routines.

But he is a slave with a great deal of miscarried authority. Mr Hall Supervisor is frustrated that his co-workers "are working WITH, not under" him (emphasis his), suggesting he wants to be the Big Man In-Charge. He lets this attitude carry over into his dealings with his guests! Like a tiny tinpot tyrant he tells his guests off for smoking and sitting on railings. In his sheltered world, he doesn't realise that in many countries there are far worse dangers to fear, and that the police are a source of ridicule and disrespect, or otherwise a source of terror and violence. Being a policeman to people from so many different political systems and social backgrounds is just asking to be derided at the very least. Fortunately, he hasn't been beaten up, though that may yet come in time.

Mr Hall Supervisor is more a martyr to his own cause than he is a volunteer to a cause greater than himself. He complains about unfulfilled compensation, as if compensation is a volunteer's due. Whomever plans the bigger picture can only see the bigger picture. Every specific need on the ground cannot be catered to every individual volunteer's convenience. So, yes, there will be snafus galore, but dealing with problems on the ground either shows class and personal initiative or there-I-fixed-it, happy now?

Every setback is an opportunity. Packed buses and long waits at the bus stop are really lonely when there is no one to talk to. Here the volunteers are literally rubbing shoulders with the cream of international athletics -- young, vibrant, exciting people (some might even be girls!) anxious to discover what they can about their host country -- and Mr Hall Supervisor just wants to sulk in his corner, bristling and prickling with leave-me-alone. Sigh. Such opportunities going a-begging.

We read a lot about how unnecessary the YOG was. How the money could have been better spent on ourselves instead of entertaining all these foreigners. Let's put this view in perspective. What is Singapore's core business? We'd like it to be shuffling paper in a predictable 9-to-5 air-conditioned office job, wouldn't we? That's what we exert so much energy studying to get into university for. But if Singapore is really going to survive, our place in the world is to be able to throw the biggest parties that keep international party-goers coming back for more! Realistically, there isn't much else we can offer. We have to learn to be hosts of the best hospitality and highest standards of professional, friendly service and here at the YOG , unfortunately we see some of our service staff just not being able to fit the bill. (BTW, it's his future core business as well, being a current student from **ATEC).

As a nameless events coordinator once said, 'we let you work with the stars for a WHOLE fortnight, and you still want money?!' I don't doubt that the volunteers are working hard. Long hours, blood, sweat and tears I understand. My problem is that Mr Hall Supervisor has no clue whom he is working for. Poor fellow is literally his own boss and is suffering for it.

Kid, in your own self-importance you are viewing the task as being more important than the experience. Turn it around! Time to climb out of your ostrich hole and cast you eyes towards a bigger horizon and a bigger world than you have ever imagined. Learn the difference between service attitude and servitude. And do try to get a life.

NYeDC goes Bohemian

A bad week with lots of deadlines to meet and the grading, oh, the grading! Training temporarily on the shelf.

Most exciting thing happening, though, is the Drama Club's concert item that we're currently auteuring. It would make more sense if the staff we hope will participate can make rehearsal time, but failing which the kids will have to play teacher characters on their behalf.

Basic blocking is done, enough anyway to get us past our audition... just barely. Today we work on character interactions, scene transitions, entrances and exits, and activity specific individual movement -- all for an item just under five minutes' duration. Already lost a couple of afternoons on it, expect to lose a few more.

Hope it'll be worth it!

Paternal instinct

Said too much at lunch. We were gossipping about new dNYel staff Elim's beau whom we had seen on campus on a previous occasion. As we updated Lucy on this juicy tidbit, I intimated that as a group we did not approve of him.

First impressions, right? Compared to Ellie's immaculate, professional, confident demeanour, beau looked like an unkempt neanderthal adorned in mismatching 'zebra and leopard prints'. Not impressive at all. Tut, tut. *shakes head in despair.

But if I were to look at the situation objectively, that's how most couples look. One makes a great first impression behind which the other tends to languish. It's the same with June and me, no prizes for guessing which is which.

What if we had seen beau appearing like a suave Prince Charming instead? Heck, I'd still disapprove on grounds that such a man is only out to impress, all facade and no substance, or worse, out to cheat an innocent of whatever he can get.

If I was ever a father to a daughter, any interested boy will have to get past my shotgun first before he gets in through my front door. Bah, it's stress I don't need, and I'm thankful I don't have.

From behind the counter

Some dNYel people plus family walked through McD's Open Doors to view the operation from behind the counter. The idea behind giving us this opportunity was to show that there are no conspiracies or hidden agenda, and that the food they serve is indeed as wholesome, clean and fresh as they claim. Considering I am one of McD's best customers, I didn't need a lot of convincing but it was worth a poke around backstage anyway.

To me, McD's is a symbol of independence. When they first opened here, I was already in my teens, mobile and in possession of  moderate teenager allowance. I could blow a week's worth on a Big Mac and Coke, but if I really wanted to, no one could say, 'no!' I'd starve the rest of the week, but that was MY decision to make, so there.

And so we toured a spotless kitchen -- spotless that is until HP dropped her milkshake and whipped cream on the floor of the freezer. Oops. We saw the process of putting together a sandwich from scratch, cooked to order on the spot. They emphasized their policy of only choosing suppliers with socially responsible and environmentally sustainable practices with no record of animal abuse, at least until the point when the animals become meat patties.

The guides fielded all kinds of questions from us quite openly. We asked about specific kitchen practices, crowd control, marketing procedures and employee issues. Above all other indicators, it is the employees themselves who are the best indicators of the worth of the company they work for. They know the ins and outs of the business and they know best when the company is trying to pull sh*t because they are the ones first impacted by it.

In this tour, the employees we met were fully committed to their employer. My last question was, 'who gets to play Ronald McD?' to which our guide instantly shot me a look of utter incomprehension and replied, 'Ronald McD is Ronald McD!' Now THAT is serious buy-in to the company's branding. If the employees believe in it, that's good enough for me.

Now, if only someone could tell me which part of the cow the beef patty comes from. They assured us that it didn't come from a sirloin, rib-eye or T-bone cut, but definitely somewhere much cheaper. But they didn't know exactly where. Oh well, as my advertising elective prof used to say, a cow is a cow is a cow. It's 100% beef, no gluten, no fillers. Any other questions?

Service with a smile

Times must be hard. These 'Friendly' people are busy distributing flyers advertising their services door-to-door around my block. Apart from approving loans, I'll bet Jason will kindly extend his services to home redecoration too.

Need a loan? Pick up the phone! :)

A 'see-you-soon' to Lucy

Time to kick back and focus on good eats with good folks. Here, we're bidding Lucy a great time in Vancouver where she'll be working on her Master's.

'Here' is Buono, Lichfield Road. It's Wednesday night and ladies eat for free (from the 'special' menu). Looking a our table, there seems to be lots of ladies.

Considering what we put away: 3 kinds of antipasti, a hefty serving of pasta for almost each of us and some desserts to share, we ended up paying about $30 a head, really, not bad at all!

National Day eve

Finally, all positive factors converge to give Q-tip the outing she's been waiting weeks for. We're at the Marina Barrage to take in the sights and sounds of the new happenin' place the URA's developing.

Kite flying's a big activity here. The breezes are strong enough to lift kites off easily, even big 'uns with long, trailing tails.

Have to say that despite the stated opening times on the official website, the Gallery Cafe actually opens at 1030 hrs. If you go at 0900, either have brekkie beforehand or bring your own sandwiches. As it turned out, we waited for the cafe to open. Breakfast menu wasn't very exciting, mostly heavier options and salads like for lunch.

Fortunately, there is also a selection of local foods on the board. Nasi lemak was ok, served with green rice, a wing, an egg over-easy and a sprinkling of ikan bilis and peanuts. Bit expensive at $5+ a serving.

Evening we met our old friend JH, back from his travels. Originally from S Korea, he's now got the opportunity to work here as a expat.

Dinner was at Por Kee. We always order the same thing: the tofu speciality, Thai-style steamed fish, champagne pork ribs and a veggie dish. Food was excellent as always.

The point was, we wanted to welcome him with some good local food, then we remembered we had brought him here before, the first time he came to visit us. Then he tells us Tiong Bahru is his usual lunchplace since his office is just around the corner.

We take him to dessert at Island Creameries -- and he gets his laundry done here since he lives in the neighbourhood. Guess he's no longer a stranger in our part of town.

Face the wall

Took Q-tip to the beach, given today's half-day. At some point, I chose a picnic table to sit at and watch the sea. As I sat there, I thought of MM's recent suggestion that we should do away with the retirement age. There I was, with time on my hands, doing something pleasurable, and if I were to retire when my time comes I could theoretically do this all day, every day for the rest of my life. Or do all the other things we wish we had time for but are unable to because of our work schedules.

I didn't find the prospect appealing, however. Maybe if I hated my job I'd feel different but I don't. Maybe if I had a job that I slaved away at for a pittance I'd feel different, by my job pays decently enough to live comfortably as long as I don't suddenly crave a luxurious, ostentatious lifestyle. Like MM, I also dread the time when I have to stop work after which "I'll just shrivel up, face the wall and just that".

Yes, MM's quite clearly presenting a false dilemma. But it's the social contact I will miss the most from the working environment. Work gives me a reason to be around people. Apart from work, I don't offer much reason for people to be around me.

Earned privilege

Interesting that in the general meeting with P, he mentioned how past college Principals ran their campuses with less emphasis on extrinsically enforced discipline so that the environment would be more akin to that of the university and away from the secondary school. These days we feel the need to lay down the law as the kids seem to be either lacking in direction or the ability to discipline themselves.

Times have changed. Comparing senior high students of the past with those of the present, the big difference was that "in my time (cough... cough... hack... hack...!)" my contemporaries were proud to be college students. When they wore their uniform, they wore it with dignity because so few others were privileged to wear the crest, those colours. They represented the best and brightest of their cohort, on the cusp of a very privileged level of education that would put them in a social strata above the general population. That meant living up to a higher calling, meeting standards of decorum and courtesy befitting of the upper-class they were destined for. Principals of the past didn't have to worry about behavioural micro-management because the intrinsic motivation to self-manage was already strong in their students.

What has changed since then is the loss of pride in being a college student. No longer a privilege to be studying in a JC, it's now a basic expectation for every secondary school student. The kids here feel that there is nothing special about being here. There is no sense of accomplishment or achievement but rather a perception that it's just a normal part of all the rights and privileges they feel are entitled to them. They're not really here because there is a burning desire in each one to be here; they're here because everyone else is here. A college education is nothing to aspire towards -- it's become common, average and taken for granted.

If junior colleges have discipline problems, the root cause is the loss of earned privilege. At the risk of sounding elitist, we've let the riff-raff invade our campuses and infect us with their common mediocrity. Be that as it may, since they're already here it's up to us to run our campuses not as survival boot camp which further reinforces the competitive dog-eat-dog slave mentality that our current kids have, but rather show them how to live up to the higher standards they are being called to. We teach them to raise their eyes, not drop their chins. We really don't want to become a secondary school. That would be a huge and probably irrevocable step backwards.

Cocktail party with parents

Back from a cocktail party with the kids' parents. The kind in which we're supposed to tell them that judging from their mid-year grades, their kids aren't doing well in this or that subject and with the finals in 90+ days we need to work together and help them do something about it.

But with the parents we're seeing tonight, this kind of kick-'em-in-the-a** advice applies only to a tiny minority of our young charges. These parents tell us that their kids are already working hard, they study, do their homework, revision, so why isn't it translating into better grades? Quite sad, and frustrating to be in that kind of situation for a student, isn't it? All that hard work not paying off?

For this bunch of kids we had to advise them on stress management. They need rest, exercise, and a good night's sleep. They need to learn how to handle their pressure and personal expectations. The parents we talked to were nice, agreeing with us that their kids were too anxious, lacking the confidence they need to handle their exams without panic. And at the same time, not slack off. It's a delicate balancing game: breathe, breathe...

Well, here's another hat we gotta learn to wear. This one's a little less straightforward than the old Drill Sergeant one. Guess we'll just have to keep the latter only for special occasions from now on.

Hair-raising tale

Over the past weekend, a number of us staff independently got haircuts. The two most severe crops belonged to Wayne and me. Upon questioning, Wayne -- in jest -- claimed his crop was to honour Hair for Hope; to which I replied in all seriousness that my cause was Hope for Hair. True story.