Chan Chun Sing - RVHS Incident.

 

In Minister Chan’s recounting of the RVHS Incident yesterday, one thing stood out for me. This is his narration. 

“”Towards the end of lunch break, a group of students encounters a Sec 4 student outside a toilet. He is holding an axe and asks them to call the police. The Sec 4 student asks another group of students in the classroom next to the toilet to call the police.””

That was to me not just a call to alert the police, but a cry for help. It was a cry for help after the realisation that he had done a terrible act, one that has left someone whom he doesn’t know lying motionless on the toilet floor. 

Still holding the axe in his hand, the 16-year old pleaded twice to the students to call the police. One group were passers-by and the others were in another classroom. At that time, the boy just wanted help, help for the boy in the toilet and help for himself. And in that moment of clarity, the axe he held in his hand was turned to ploughshare. 

As I read the account, I realised that that fateful morning, there were two strangers in the 16-year old boy’s life; one was the boy lying in the toilet and the other was himself. For a moment, that person who committed the act was not the same person who asked for help. The former was someone the latter had been struggling with for many years. Most tragically, it was a fight that costs an innocent stranger his life. 

My heart truly goes out to that innocent life, a life who is dearly missed by many, his parents and friends. A life who was full of potential, of hope and of unsurpassed joy to his loved ones. 

Minister Chan also recounted what happened in the aftermath. He was approached by the 16-year-old boy’s classmates. They too were asking for help from the minister. “Amidst their pain and confusion as to what had happened...they just had one simple request: “Minister, please help our friend. Please take care of him.””

Minister Chan said: “I saw grace, I saw compassion, I saw solidarity among the students and the staff of River Valley High. The way they carried themselves, the way they responded to the incident, will be etched in my mind forever.”

I believe that that call for help was one made by his classmates because they know him. For 4 years, he was a student in the school, and a friend to them. I would also guess that they know him as someone who had his own demons to fight. And two years ago, he nearly gave his own life in that struggle for sanity to save himself. Alas, it was no less one tragedy compounded by another tragedy, yet Minister Chan saw grace and compassion, in the aftermath. 

Let me go out on a limb here to say that unlike the shootings in US and NZ, where people saw only hate and disunity, this incident however, I see what Minister Chan saw too...I see compassion, I see grace. And it was indeed a cry for help, community and unity. It was a solidarity or a bond, however broken and tragic, that has stood on both sides of the divide, one holding the axe and the other lying on the floor, yet this bond seeks to unite bleeding hearts, and heal broken souls. 

I therefore earnestly pray for the victim and the assailant, both too young, for our schools and for our community, and for RVHS. May we all grow wiser and stronger and never let go of the lesson learned from this tragic incident. 

And by the way, I just want to say that River Valley High is a name with an inspiring juxtaposition, a name that speaks about a river running through a valley. That river represents life, resilient life, amidst a valley that challenges us all to rise above to greater heights. It is also a reminder that we are stronger than this, and we will overcome. These are the ideals we hold on to, and they allow our feet to remain grounded. 

In another part of his speech, Minister Chan reminded us parents about how we ought to define success. It made a lot of sense to me too. You can read it up yourself. Maybe, I will leave that part for my post tomorrow morning.

For now, I wish to end with the lyrics of a song titled “Scars In Heaven” by Casting Crown. It is a song about grace. Journalist Grace Ho highlighted it in the papers this morning. And it is said (via online rumour) that this song was played by the boy’s father in his wake. Here is the chorus: -

“The only scars in heaven, they won’t belong to me and you;

There’ll be no such thing as broken, and all the old will be made new;

And the thought that makes me smile now, even as the tears fall down;

Is that the only scars in heaven are on the hands that hold you now.”

Indeed, that is grace, an amazing grace whose scarred hand has never let us go.

 

RVHS I

8 hours sleep. That’s what our kids need. And three leading authorities have come forward to lend their weight to call for it.

First, the experts: Two associate professors Joshua Gooley and June Lo from Duke-NUS Medical School and Yong Loo Lin School of Medicine, and one professor from Yong Loo Lin too, namely, Michael Chee. 

They are internationally recognised sleep scientists and have used their findings and objective data to transforms lives all over. Their advice therefore ought to be given a listening ear to. Mind you, they are not talking in their sleep. 

Second, the issue. It comes in this number - 6.5 hours. That’s about how much our students on average are sleeping. It is reported that “eight hours is enough, but fewer than 15 per cent of secondary school students achieve this.”

Third, the solution? Well, start school later. Start at 8:30 am. 

And if traffic is an issue, which coincides with peak hours, then stagger the timing, lessen the curriculum, make arrangements for transport with appropriate transport apps and car-pooling. Whatever is to be done, bend the solution to fit (or solve) the problem, that is, by hook or crook, grant our kids 8 hours sleep. But, why? Why 8 hours?

Fourth, the benefits. “In a top secondary school in Singapore, an increase of about 20 minutes of sleep on school nights was associated with fewer depression symptoms and lower daytime sleepiness...it improves alertness and improved mood.” Enough said? 

Fifth, the lesson. 

I know what you are thinking, or at least some of you parents. In terms of PISA and other academic scores, our kids are way up there. We excel so well in those assessments, attaining international recognition, is there really a need to change what is not only not broken, but it is working superbly? 

Well, what’s working may not be what’s best for our kids. The question is, at what cost are we achieving it? Or, what is the long term effect? And most pertinently, is there a better way to excel without burning our kids out, risking mood swings, depression and possibly suicide?

And we are not without precedent here. An experiment was carried out in Nanyang Girls’ High School (“NYGH”). Here is what is reported by Julian Lim and Lee Su Mei in a recent CNA article.

“NYGH spent half a year in preparing to shift their start time. They went through many rounds of revising the curriculum before rolling out one that would allow school to end at around the same time without comprising curriculum coverage.” 

“They were aware of the potential impact on transport, so they surveyed their students to understand their transport situation and concerns. The school also monitored local traffic conditions before the change to determine how much of a delay would be tolerable.”

“In short, NYGH spent significant effort to figure out how to delay school start time in the most optimal, least disruptive way. The results from the experiment were clear: Students were happier, more alert and more positive about going to school.”

So, where there is a will, there’s a way? 

At this point, I hear the naysayers: How about kids sleeping later then, if you tweak the time to 8:30 am? In other words, wouldn’t they just sleep later since they can wake up later?

Well, the professors have got this covered. Here is their findings: “Across longitudinal studies where delayed start times of more than 30 minutes are provisioned for, later wake-up times have consistently been observed. Bedtimes either do not change or are delayed by a smaller amount, resulting in real gains in sleep time.”

What is noteworthy is that bedtimes do not change. And if delayed, not by much, and they still wake up later. So in the end, if we parents, teachers, principals and ministers do the maths, our children get MORE sleep when school starts LATER.

And another unplanned experimental outcome is that during lockdown, “secondary school children in Singapore obtained about 40 minutes more sleep...as compared with their usual (short) amount of sleep.”

What is a bonus here (to start school later) is that “when sleep was extended to eight hours, performance resembled having nine hours of sleep. This suggests that every few minutes closer to the recommended sleep duration (of 8 hours) is worth reclaiming.”

Sixth, is it time to act? 

Well, MOE will tell you that they have decentralised the decision to individual schools. It is therefore not mandatory, but discretionary. It’s up to them. 

However, most schools are not acting on it. It is too much of an administrative disruption, and they rather sleepwalk through it or hold on to their more familiar security blanket, unless of course, as the three professors suggested, MOE makes it a law, similar to the laws requiring us to wear masks, keep a safe distance, and observe numbers at public places. 

Seventh, I always feel that as the population increases, we manage the masses by way of manicuring a culture via proper rules and regulations. How we organise society as a whole can affect its outcome, even the unintended effects arising from such structure or culture. 

For example, if you want policy holders to continue with their insurance policies, just tweak the option to renew section, and inform them that if they don’t do anything about it, the policy will renew itself automatically, thereby assuming that acquiescence is implied permission. 

By changing the option, you change the behaviour, en mass, for good or for bad. Likewise with schools and the long term health of our children. 

Inertia comes with its own resistance and also its own unintended consequences too. Before long, we become a byproduct of our enforced or entrenched culture. In schools, that entrenched, routinised culture is starting assembly at 7:30 am sharp, risking mental health issues in the long run, or forfeiting its benefits by default. 

If we know the benefits for our children are real, proven and enduring, and don’t worry, they will still continue to do well in PISA to maintain that international recognition, if not better, without sacrificing their mental well-being, then why are we not fighting the real enemy here, that is, inertia?

For all it takes is to push it back to 8:30 am (by order of parliament - if that’s what it takes) and everything over time will eventually adjust itself to it like cultural lemmings on a march, and then we can sit back and enjoy the better results, the happier kid, the less hectic schedule, the better absorption in class, the keener sense of learning, and most importantly, the better mood, for the most optimal social effect and benefits. What’s there to lose? 

Alas, there is no eighth lesson here. We don’t need any more, and one more would not make any difference. For enough has been said and done about it. Now, it’s time to act?

 

RVHS II

 

The RVHS news has left an indelible mark on the soul of the nation. Most are still reeling from it. 

Today’s news confirms that the 16-year-old had attempted suicide in 2019 when he was in secondary 2. He was admitted to IMH then for a psychiatric assessment. That was revealed in the preliminary hearings yesterday. 

The boy is currently held under remand at Complex Medical Centre in Changi Prison for psychiatric evaluation. Our Law Minister said: “Preliminary investigations suggest that he purchased (the axe) online. But we will know the full facts only after investigations are completed.”

I will leave it as that. I believe due process should take its own course. What however caught my attention is some comments made about the incident in ST today. 

One human resource practitioner said: “We are not equipped as students in this competitive society. We are very focused on the typical Singaporean path to success - to graduate and find a job. People aren’t interested in mental health matters.”

Another commentary from a project manager in her 40s said: “I’m worried for my nephews and nieces. It reminds me of what happens in Western countries.” 

She may have in mind the divisive society in US, resulting in numerous gun incidents in schools. I guess there is a potently dangerous mix between one’s mental state, which is largely genetic/hereditary, and the trigger points one faces over time, which is largely environmental. 

And I wonder, what is “the typical Singaporean path to success” anyway? To graduate and find a job? 

Is that our kid’s main preoccupation, with the other curriculum activities merely a form of diversionary means to getting extra points in order to meet the endgoal of getting good grades, finding good jobs, earning good pay, and snapping up good class bungalows?

Is that typical path to success no different from turning us into competitive race horses from the get-go as early as primary six with blinders tightly attached so that our kids’ focus is mainly one-dimensional? 

Now, I have to caveat (to some extent) that my musing above has nothing or little to do with the RVHS incident, because I still believe that it is a one-off event. 

But, having said that, and acknowledging that one sparrow does not a summer make, should we then play with chance and leave out seriously (and not superficially) reassessing the various trigger points in society en route to making sure that our kids excel academically first, beyond and before engaging in other soul-enriching pursuits that usually take a longer timeline to develop or mature? 

I guess, on an alarmist mindset, if we are on a collision course to creating an alienated, atomised and one-dimensional society, where we are still deeply biased towards meritocratic achievements for our kids, while paying lip service to other equally (if not more so) meaningful pursuits, then we cannot discount the grim reality that such one-off event may become a little more frequent over time. 

Yet, this is surely a case where “one-off” is one too many, and we cannot afford to put our innocent child (playing to our pre-canned script) to such heartbreaking future prospect. Because that child the next time round may just be our child. 

Alas, one sparrow may not a summer make, but it may just be that one canary in the coal mine to seriously warn us about a possible unfolding of a future we as parents would dread most should it ever come to pass. Mind you, every event, one-off or otherwise, has a beginning, however innocent, and every beginning has a lesson, however routine, and every lesson calls for our due diligence. Is our diligence to act due yet? 

I guess “continuity is a human right”, and it may also lead to a human wrong, and by that time, I hope it is not too late. 

Let me leave you with a father’s concerns for his son in a book I bought yesterday, entitled “The Unbroken Thread - Discovering the Wisdom of Tradition in an Age of Chaos” by author Sohrab Ahmari.

“Here, then, is the dilemma of a young father. How do I transmit to my son the value of permanent ideals against a culture that will tell him that whatever is newest is also best, that everything is negotiable and subject to contract and consent, that there is no purpose to our common life but to fulfill his desires? How do I reinforce that fragile thread linking my son to a life of human obligations and responsibility? To a life anchored in stable and unchangeable ideals? To a life, in other words, filled with the goods secured by tradition?”

Mm...existential food for thought for your mid-week.