Calling the young to embrace the crucible of adversity.

Never say die. It’s not all gloom and doom. Group solidarity. Play our part. Don’t just rely on Government. And the best way to predict the future is to create it.

How about that? Minister Lawrence Wong has spoken. It was at the NTU’s student union forum. His theme? Embrace difficult times as crucibles that forge character. 

He borrowed the adage of “how one could deal with adversity by letting it define, destroy or strengthen one.” How do you argue with that? You know the good minister is right, right? Inspired? Well, you have to be there to soak in the esprit de corps. 

He also said: “The Goverment will do our part to support you, and partner you in this exciting journey ahead.” I think that has always been our nation’s philosophy, from independence to the 4G leadership. It’s about adversity, agency and autonomy. That is, you do your part, we do ours. 

Mind you, the gap is not bridged by one party at one extreme. It is bridged by two parties meeting somewhere in the middle, or center left/right. But still, you have to take that first step, and be consistent in spirit and mind about wanting to embrace adversity, making a positive change and making it count until you reach your goal.

And talking about agency and autonomy, I am reminded about the resource curse. Over the decades, stats have shown that those “blessed” with natural resources like oil and minerals are always struggling to stand on their own two feet as a society or nation. 

Their society is so pampered, they suffer the consequences of fragility and inflexibility. More insidious is complacency and the prevalence of internal strife, where what comes too easy from mother nature tends to corrupt what is inherent in our human nature.

So, adversity can define you. It can transform or destroy you. That is why it is only half truth when they say that you give a man a fish and you feed him a day. But you teach him how to fish, well, you feed him a lifetime. That much resonated with me, especially the second part. Yet, after you teach him (or her), the next step is to go out there to fish. Fish don’t come to you, or throw themselves onto dry ground for you. 

And when you do go out there, don’t expect calm waters all day long. At times, things are beyond your control; like storms, they can wreck your day or catch. What-chew gonna do then?

That is the greatest struggle for anyone, at any age, right? And to be consistent about it, pushing through it with grit and determination, well, that can’t exactly be taught. That was what Lawrence meant when he said: “the bottom line is that all Singaporeans have to play their part and not just rely on the government measures and policies.” Each doing their part. 

Yet, between giving someone a fish, teaching to catch fish and rowing out there to haul in the catch (you can see how the transition subtly makes the giver or tutor unnecessary over time), there are many seasonal gaps that the young have to bridge. And it can be a real struggle too.

Yes, those upper class families will have it easier, but not those languishing at the lower rungs of society. That is in fact the mother of all gaps, and for some societies, especially the developed ones, with very high wealth and social inequalities, it’s really never the twain shall meet. The struggle for them is even harder. 

That alone is a major factor contributing to our age of disillusionment, especially for the young.

Sometimes, when I do sit down at some of these conferences, when they do speak about positivity and encouraging pick-me-ups, I always feel something is missing. In other words, that gap between the speaker and the listeners is just visceral, raw and real. 

Well, I am not giving excuses for procrastination or not breaking the inertia when self-mastery and self-responsibility are called for, but the young today are facing very different existential challenges from the young of past generations before them.

In a timely article today, entitled “Young graduates: Could economic and political setbacks radicalise a generation?”, a group of writers came forward to spell out a very different zeitgeist our younger generation are living in (or confronting). 

Apart from the wealth gap, they are struggling with their disillusionment with politics, as in the division and often juvenile antics of various political parties and leaders. They essentially felt “abandoned” by politicians. And the jobless rate has changed too, not on the rosy side though. For those under-25s, it rose from 11.5% to 12.95% (between Feb last year and this June, according to OECD countries). 

“In Britain, people aged under 30 are now four times as likely to rent than they were two generations ago”. And a Cambridge University study in 2020 shows that “faith in the democratic system had already experienced its steepest fall even amongst those aged 18 to 34 in the eve of the pandemic”. 

In one of the litany of lamentations, a technical analyst Niharika Singh, who emigrated to the US from India at age two, said: “My parents have literally said that they don’t want me and my sister to settle down here with our families eventually. This country has not lived up to the expectations we had, which is so jarring.”

I know Niharika is talking about America, that is, the nation’s social safety net is too narrow, but in Singapore, there is some parallel when it comes to the high cost of living, the income and social gaps, the struggles of the poor, and the hidden merit-fueled society, which outwardly embraces those less credentialed, yet inwardly conveniently shifts one’s prejudices, but not jettison it all out of his/her system. 

Alas, discrimination still exists, whether it is by merit, by age and/or by class. I won’t be surprised if some Singaporean parents offer the same advice Niharika’s parents gave to her - “don’t settle down here”. 

Well, our ministers can sit in an air-conditioned hall to encourage, and that is no doubt necessary and timely. But, the reality for many can be too discouraging for a seasonal pat-on-the-back speech. Good intention aside, it is the bleak ground condition that drowns out the positive, celebratory cheers by the side. 

What’s more, with the decline in religious faith amongst the young, and the climate emergency and random flooding, akan datang to a flat land near you, well, you sometimes have to squint real hard to find the silver lining in the gathering storm. 

Let me nevertheless end with what one graduate of anthropology in London, Hannah Tasker, said. ““I’ve learnt that “political” doesn’t have to mean political parties”...It means whether there is justice, whether the country and economy and society are working for everyone.”” Hannah however said, “it is not.”

That’s true. It still leaves much to be desired. Imperfect, screwed-up, world right? And Hannah and the many voices of disillusionment have all got a point. 

But, after all’s said, and when the rubber of self-mastery meets the plain hard road, I can’t say Lawrence is wrong. 

For who can argue with saying that “it’s not all gloom and doom”? Or, who can dispute the adage that “one could deal with adversity by letting it define, destroy or strengthen one”? Isn’t it true that we have come so far because we have not allowed adversity to destroy us, but strengthen us? 

They say people who are experiencing sadness, see the world more realistically and clearly. I guess that is why it is said, “blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.” Truly, out of the ashes, one eventually rises. 

So, at every crossroad or intersection of one’s life, we have to challenge ourselves, and pick up the broken pieces to start all over. Every step counts, every step to our own recovery. 

And yes, the best way to predict the future is to create it. But you have to want to see or imagine it first. More importantly, there must be a future in the first place where all people of all races, classes and cultures can have a fair stake in it. No one wants to labour in vain, without hope. 

I guess, we will just have to work together, because what doesn’t kill us indeed makes us stronger. And we have to decide to persist to make it work for all, and for all our future generations, in one group solidarity, towards vision and hope.

 

Social Media and FOMO.

 

Three common causes of stress amongst S’pore students? 

Well, they are (1) Social Media and The Fear of Missing Out, (2) Stellar Grades And Parental Pressures, and (3) Self-Imposed Pressure to Excel (as per ST report by Ang Qing @ A13). 

This morning, I will just share my thoughts about the first cause...the social media and FOMO. 

It is relatively new. I suppose those born in the 1990s (or after) will bear the full brunt of it. They should be in their twenties by now, or younger. The affliction and addiction of technology especially social media catches on by lightning speed, and kids exposed to it will also be sucked into the FOMO vortex. I supposed some adults are not exempted from its vice-like grip too. 

Imagine with me a world without social media. It would be a world that is so much more smaller, right? It would also be a world that is less flat, where what we do is less visible to others. This includes our errors, mistakes and embarrassment. You can also forget about cancel culture? 

More importantly, our privacy would be protected, that is, the skeletons in our closets will be well kept and occasionally dusted (by us). Some will not see the light of day, for the entire lifetime.

But, the drawback of such a world without social media would be the dissemination of knowledge and the empowerment and freedom that comes with it. They will be seriously undermined. 

As a case in point, imagine again that Gutenberg did not invent the printing press in the 15th century. Or, for that matter, there was and will never be a Gutenberg-like Revolution worldwide. Arising from that, and as an example, you can be sure that there will not be any mass production of the Gutenberg Bible. 

All scripture would therefore be held in the ivory towers of the Catholic priesthood. Only they can read and interpret the word of God, and the people down below would just have to accept their words, or interpretation, as final, or as ex cathedra.

Without the mass dissemination in the printing word form, we will all be none the wiser. We will also suffer the bliss of ignorance, and with that, comes the disempowerment and the serious denial of personal and communal freedom to effect positive and sustainable changes for the benefit of the common good. 

For if absolute power corrupts absolutely, then this power also comes with the monopoly of essential knowledge, as the first major act of a tyrant, and that in itself is the means to support the perpetuation of such absolute corruption. 

Ok, so much for the real benefits of technology, and there are more of course. But, coming back home, from the Gutenberg press to social media, there is a dark side too. 

For in the same way that money is a medium of exchange, technology is a medium of learning. But at times, that medium is the message, and it can overpower and overlord the individual and society as a whole. 

When you take something like technology to the extreme, the change will, at some point, cross the threshold of benefit to the threshold of cost arising more from its unintended, and unwitting, consequences. 

Ultimately, the whole problem with humanity is surely not their ingenuity or inventions, but it is in their underestimation of what the byproduct of their collective intelligence can cost them over the long run. We are indeed people of the most intemperate minds and appetites. 

So, on more granular level, our kids will have to bear the brunt of our hubris, and unwitting-ness, when we constantly fail to balance the benefits and costs of technology, or in this case, social media. 

As the world becomes less flat, more transparent, with the help of social media, the world for the young minds finally becomes a stage, an open Shakespearean stage. Forget about privacy, when, by a touch of a button, you can become famous, traipsing on the social media stage, even for that 7 minutes. 

Suddenly, you can post whatever, and be “liked” by whomever, their identity is immaterial. And for that pedestal moment of fame, you feel like you are at the center of the universe. Cloud no. 9, right?

But, here comes the crossing of the rubicon threshold of unintended consequences for technology, and it is captured in this Yogi Berra’s observation: “Anyone who is popular is bound to be disliked”. 

And it is that torrents of dislikes on social media that most of our kids, even ourselves, cannot take. It eats into their soul, like acid drip, because, while our kids have the knowledge (and freedom) to compose and post, and also re-post, they do not have the maturity to compose themselves when their well-manicured image and self-esteem suffer a blow. And this blow adds up as our kids trip over on the social media stage, or when their privacy, shame and mistakes are exposed for all to remark, ridicule and remember. 

And how about envy? It’s real too, very real. Before social media, we only get to read about famous and successful people strutting their stuff on printed newspapers, and maybe in the tv news.

But nowadays, kids get to see their friends’ blow-by-blow account, on a daily-by-a-mere-touch-of-the-screen moment. Some exposure can deepen the comparison, and allow envy to kick in to dry and rot the bones from within.

And the addiction to fame, and the vicious cycle of envy only cause the intemperate young minds to dive deeper into the social media’s black-hole.

As an illustration, here’s a conversation by Zuckerberg before FB became a staple of our daily life. It is about how easy it is to get information, thrown at you. 

““Zuckerberg began the conversation with a boast, telling one friend that if he ever needed information on anyone at Harvard, he should just say the word:

ZUCK: i have over 4000 emails, pictures, addresses, sns 

FRIEND: what!? how’d you manage that one?

ZUCK: people just submitted it

ZUCK: i don’t know why

ZUCK: they “trust me”

ZUCK: dumb fucks””

(@pg 24, “An Ugly Truth: Inside Facebook’s Battle for Domination” by Sheera Frenkel and Cecilia Kang). 

Let me end by saying that, with social media, we have started another Gutenberg-like revolution, in all its excesses, and it can be reduced to the obsession to be right, liked and the light. That is, we can now broadcast our “rightness” to thousands, if not millions, of users, unfiltered. Our posts on the most mundane, or the most manicured part of our life, may just strike social media goldmine and elevate us to dizzying heights. We also become more superficial as a result. 

For in a postmodern world, truth is more about feelings of being right rather than one based on objectivity, established by tedious scientific facts. 

And with a critical mass of social media attention, we become a celebrity overnight with the harvest of likes. 

Overtime, we are transformed into a city on the hill, with tens of thousands of followers. We will then embody the “light” for the many who want to associate themselves with us for boasting rights. 

But it doesn’t stop there, because many young people will not want to miss out on such tidal wave of popularity, or such accessible, palpable successes as deceptively flashed on their small screens. 

Before long, the spirit of FOMO will be a constant indictment of how inadequate our kids are, as compared to the screen idols in their handphones, with such wealth/successes coming to them so easily. Alas, it’s envy to the bone all over again. 

Well, like it or not, that is what we as parents are up against. It is the monolithic of technology pushed to the extreme. It is a Gutenberg-like revolution that came in from the backdoor of our home, like little Trojan horses. And the addiction to it is very real. 

We therefore have a duty to protect them from its deleterious effects. This battle is for the long haul. And we must always remain vigilant.

 

President Halimah - help youth facing mental health issues.

 

She may be a shoo-in for president, but last Saturday, she came forward and made a lot of sense. Prompted by the tragic RVHS incident, President Halimah noted that the 16-year-old had attempted suicide 2 years ago. He was then referred to IMH for treatment. 

“Attempted suicides are a real cry for help. We don’t know the full details, particularly whether he had continued to receive psychiatric help or medication in order to deal with his mental health after that episode,” Mdm Halimah said. 

“We also don’t know whether it was due to school or...other factors affecting him as the causes of mental breakdowns are numerous and sometimes there is more than one factor at play.”

That made sense. I can think of a metaphor here: An avalanche starts with a flake of snow. And as it goes downhill, it adds to its weight, burden and size, until it comes to a stage where you can’t stop it anymore. To the young sufferer, it has become monolithic, having a mind of its own, and the only way forward for an avalanche is to continue its destined downward path, until it hits rock bottom. 

Indeed, many factors contribute to the fall, and they all add up, to give it the oppressive strength to overpower, to rob whatever sliver of hope the child may still desperately cling on to. 

However, Mdm Halimah confronted the issue head on. She singled out parents, teachers, school and society at large. She said we are “ill-equipped to deal with the situation.” 

“”For parents,” she said, “the great difficulty is in not knowing whether the child is perhaps going through a growth phase, as "all adolescents with growth hormones raging through their bodies sometimes act out", or whether it is because of something much deeper.””

For teachers, well, they are already overloaded with work, “it is not possible to delve deeply into the issues affecting one child, which will require close monitoring, observation and engagement.”

And lastly...school/society. She mentioned how society has imposed high expectations on the young. She said: “We expect to see a linear progression in their performance with no interruption whatsoever, like some well-oiled machinery.”

"Parents compare all the time. We often say that a well-developed, healthy child is better than a troubled child who seems to be shooting all As but is suffering, but we actually send different signals to them.”

Yes, I concur. The signals are frustratingly mixed. We are, in reality, how our society has wound us up to be. You wind it up anti-clockwise, for example, and you get a society that is, well, none the wiser. 

Our child is trying his/her darnest shooting all As, but is suffering, missing some academic marks, and disappointing us. They feel that they have to earn our affection, and even successfully jumping one academic hoop, with many more to go in their young life, they still harbour this crippling sense that they are just not good enough, because like Mdm Halimah said, “parents compare all the time.” 

In a race to one finishing line after another, they are surely many running behind and many running in front, because there is only on top spot, one silver medalist and one bronze consolation. 

In fact, in an intensely meritocratic and competitive society like ours, it is better for our child’s mental health to stand one step below the silver medalist, because to get 2nd place and then miss the mark by that much (or that little) is going to oppress the soul of the poor child, and his/her parents will be consumed or obsessed with the question, why can’t you come out tops?

Alas, the child is called by society’s many impersonal coaches to jump hoops so that at the end of one hoop is a hug and a smile waiting for them from the one they desperately seek approval from. But it never lasts, that is, the affection like milk and canned food, has an almost instant expiry date, before they are let go again to earn that same mechanical affection by jumping over another hoop and another and another. 

Mdm Halimah puts it well, even against the same society that was the handmaiden of her pathway to the presidential top spot: “we expect to see a linear progression in their performance with no interruption whatsoever, like some well-oiled machinery.”

As an well-oiled machinery, we are all its nuts and bolts, the cogs and wheels in its mechanical flow, chugging along, to ensure it doesn’t deviate from its one-track, linear pathway to superior economic growth and maintaining that first world status. No derailment should stop that flow, and for every derailment, we just have to power the speed up to compensate (if not overcompensate).

This is where Mdm Halimah also observes: “There is still so much ignorance, stereotyping and prejudice in our society against people with mental health issues that parents fear doing more harm than good to their children's future by seeking treatment, which they delay with disastrous consequences."

Well, that ignorance and prejudice flow from how the society is wound up. It still goes anti-clockwise and we are thus none the wiser, or we simply refuse to face up to the reality/truth that something has to give in our relentless one-track advancement.

Let me end with the presidential advice: "It takes a tragedy like this to start us thinking deeply again about the mental health of our young. Most of our children can cope, are resilient and will grow up well. But not all children are the same. Some do need more help and not just from the school, but from everyone."

Yes, in a race, when you fire the first shot, you expect to see winners and losers at the end of it. That finish-line red ribbon is made for only the winner’s chest, and all the others, well, they lost. And we will compare, even if we pretend it really doesn’t matter, because comparing, like the coronavirus, is just highly infectious, and it runs in our veins in a society that is fiercely competitive, always striving for that top spot. 

Indeed, we are a well-oiled machinery, and that is from the horse’s mouth, so to speak.

 

The Mighty Millennials.

When you are 19, at the prime of your youth, and you suffer a stroke, life can appear to be playing a cruel joke on you. 

Lee Yong Jie (now 22) came face to face with death at 19, when he suffered a massive stroke while ending his Poly internship at a bank ironically at the point when he was giving a farewell speech.

He said this: "the left side of my body had shut down. I collapsed into the chair behind me." Yong Jie thought that he was going to die at 19.

The real mortality challenge happened in the hospital when Yong Jie discovered he had a congenital condition (from birth) known medically as brain arteriovenous malformation.

The malformation is that "abnormal mesh of blood vessels" in Yong Jie's brain, and "when it rupture and bleed, it causes a stroke."

FYI, Theresa Tan was the journalist who interviewed Yong Jie in the article today entitled "Stroke at 19, laid off at 22, but pushing on." 

And Yong Jie did push on against all obstacles.

His first obstacle was to relearn everything we normally take for granted like sitting up, drinking, bowels control, speaking to people to save his ability to speak, swallowing and moving his body to scratch an itch. 

His second obstacle was to graduate and find a job. He did find it through the Transition To Employment Programme at the SPD (it's a charity that helps those with disabilities). 

But adversity is usually blind and cold, and in Jan this year, Yong Jie was retrenched as the IT company he worked for fell on bad times. 

His third obstacle was to go back to school. He is currently studying in NUS for a degree course in the Arts and Social Sciences faculty. Yong Jie said that his ambition is to be a social worker.

Theresa Tan wrote about Yong Jie's life because she firmly believes that the millennials (those born in the 1990s) are not the strawberry generation that we have so cavalierly labeled to make the older generation look more unique and special. 

Here, Theresa recalled the lyrics of the 1988 Mike and the Mechanics hit, "The Living Years," with this catchline, "Every generation blames the one before." 

The reality is that they are not soft or fragile like strawberry. Theresa had in fact met many who faced great obstacles like Yong Jie and fought on to take their life back. 

Most of them do not come from privileged background but yet, they lived with determination, honour and hope. 

Lesson? I have three, and all three rides on Yong Jie's inspiring words.

You see, a young man like him can teach this stubborn "old man" (47) many things he takes for granted. Crudely put, a "strawberry" can enlighten a thorny durian like me. 

Here are Yong Jie's own words as my lessons unfold.

1) "It was like finding out I had lived with a time bomb all my life and never knew it. I had never had any major health problems and I used to swim, play badminton and lift weights."

I am not going to cushion the impact here. Let me just say that the reality is that our mortality is never a guarantee. That's ironically one bankable fact of life. 

Some live to their ripe old age. Others die young. But like they say, the heaviest coffin is the smallest - especially when it is our sons and daughters that we have to send off before us.

My point is that there is indeed a "time bomb" in our life. It starts to tick the moment we are born. 

There is no euphemism for that because we only live once, and within that short mortal span on earth, we have to decide how we want to make the most of that one fragile, brief life. 

So, the greatest delusion in our life is to allow ourselves to be lulled into a belief that death or terminal illness or disabilities are other people's problem, not ours. 

You see, one day the inevitable will come knocking. It always starts with a gentle knock, like a ringing whisper in our busy, activity-flooded life. Most of us will ignore it, dismissing it as a killjoy. 

But the whisper of mortality is never there to end life. On the contrary, as the example of Yong Jie's life has shown, it is there to deepen life, to enrich life, to flourish life. We dismiss it at our own peril, and this brings me to my second lesson in Yong Jie's words.

2) "In the end, what kept me going was the unwavering support of my family, girlfriend and friends. I also met someone my age in hospital, who had brain cancer. He didn't get the second chance I did. So, I felt that I couldn't give up."

I earnestly believe that second chances and never-giving-up share a special affinity. It is when we confront our adversity and brave through it with tears and hope that we find our second chances in life. 

Birth gives us our first chance, and living in an autopilot, unreflective manner squanders our first chance away, but going through trials and persevering to the end, opens up a horizon of second chances. 

It is like coming to a crossroad in life and making the decision to live for what truly counts that transforms our second chances into life-affirming values that will endure with us to a fruitful, rewarding end. 

You see, life served on a silver platter will not find growth or meaning. It is when we bravely come out of our comfort zone and do something lasting, enduring with our life that we start a chain reaction of growth and maturity. 

Here, I recall the words of an oral historian Studs Terkel who once said: "Work is about the search for daily meaning as well as daily bread, for recognition as well as cash, for astonishment rather than torpor; in short, for a sort of life rather than a Monday through Friday sort of dying."

Alas, what "sort of life" are we searching for (all our life)? Are we waiting to die or are we dying to live? 

This brings me to my third and final lesson...

And,

3) "I grew up in a poor family. My dad is a school bus driver and my mother is a housewife. I always wanted to be the boss of a technology firm and make lots of money. But now, I feel it would be a waste of my second chance at life if I worked just for the sake of money."

Recently, I met a father who was working as a project manager, handling big projects for his company. But they fired him once he had secured the projects for them, and it came at the most painful time of his life. 

His wife just gave birth to their second child but the child was born premature. The child was placed under ICU and eventually lost the fight for life. The medical bills came up to more than $40k. 

The father needed the job to pay for the bills, and pleaded with the company to let him stay. But the company instead let him go. 

The father told me that the company often do this, that is, it has a high turnover rate because they can reset the salary of their employees at a lower figure by hiring new staff with the same vigor for work. 

The father's plight stunned me. Here is a man at his forties who have to grapple with the lost of his child, a mounting medical bill and the lost of his job. 

There is indeed a certain coldness in the way some people treat others, and money is the insatiable interlocutor that distances humanity from humanity. 

Materialism or money, whether we love it or not, sooner or later, turns us into creatures of apathy, arrogance and amorality. We lose our humanity when we pursue with blinded zeal the unending accumulation of wealth and power. 

Yong Jie's plight reminded me about this dark side of materialism. 

He said: "Before my stroke, I wanted different things. But now, I cherish my health, my friends and family more than I ever did before. And I want to make a difference to others."

Let me aptly end with Yong Jie's words. 

Immediately after he suffered the stroke, he recounted this: "Gripped by terror, I messaged my girlfriend to tell her I loved her. I asked her to tell my parents that I was sorry. I felt bad for them and guilty for dying so young."

Let me just say stoically that there shouldn't be any guilt for "dying so young." Death comes to all, young and old. 

The greatest guilt (one should feel) is however reserved for those who eventually die for nothing. In other words. they represent nothing in their life. They made no difference whatever. They fade away, forgotten, or best not remembered. 

And I believe the love of money and nothing else, and spending one's lifetime pursuing it at the expense of the many whom one has exploited is a life lived for nothing; however rich, powerful and famous that person can be. It is like a life chasing after the intemperate wind. 

Now, at some point and for a season, all of us are guilty of chasing the wind, pursuing things that will leave a bad taste to our legacy. 

But the difference is that those who once chased after the wind eventually wake up at their own crossroad, and they make a lasting choice to make a difference in the lives of others like Yong Jie did in his confrontation with mortality.

In other words, they channel the wind to lift their sail in the direction of hope, fulfilment and meaning. 

But there are others like the father's ex-boss who spend their lifetime chasing the wind and allowing it to throw them from one existential emptiness to another, thereby forsaking their humanity, abandoning relationships and selling out their character. 

In the end, they live a rudderless life, tormented by the tempest of the wind, and dying leaving a legacy of shame and regrets. As such, giving them second chances are like throwing pearls to swine. Cheerz.