Diary of a reformed elitist

I AM as Rafflesian/Raffles Girls’ School (RGS)/’elite’ as they come. My father was a Raffles Institution boy; I went through Raffles Girls’ Primary School (RGPS), RGS, then Raffles Junior College, then on to the National University of Singapore, boarding at Raffles Hall. My sisters went through much the same route. My little girls are in RGPS.

I recognise the syndrome Ms Sandra Leong talks about (’Scoring high in grades but not in values’, last Saturday). I live it, breathe it. Most of my friends are like me, graduates. Most of us live in landed property, condominiums or minimally, executive condos or five-room flats. None of us talks about making ends meet, or how we must turn down medical treatment for our aged parents because we cannot find the money.

But I will add to her essay: that those traits, that aura is not unique to RGS girls. It resonates within a social group, and its aspirants, the well educated or well endowed. I hang out with so many, I have stories by the barrel.

- My doctor friend, non-RGS and one would even say anti-RGS, was shocked when she found out how many As I got in my A levels, since I opted to do an arts degree. In her words, ‘I thought all arts people were dumb, that is why they go to arts’. Her own family boasts only doctors and lawyers – she said they would never contemplate any other profession – and by implication, all other professions are below those two.

- A church-mate who lived in a landed property in District 10 – definitely not an RGS girl, and I venture to guess, not even a graduate – once, in all sincerity and innocence, prayed for all those who had to take public transport and live in HDB flats, for God to give them strength to bear these trials.

- Another friend, also non-RGS and a non-graduate, shudders when she recounts the few months she lived in an HDB flat. And that was a five-room flat. Imagine the culture shock if she had lived in a three-room flat.

I continue to meet people who never visit hawker centres, who wonder why the poor people do not work harder to help themselves, who fret if their children do not get into the Gifted Education Programme (reserved for the top 1 per cent of nine-year-olds).

The pattern repeats itself in the next generation. When my 11-year-old had to go on a ‘race’ around Singapore, using only public transport, the teacher asked for a show of hands on how many had never taken public transport (bus and MRT) before. In a class of 30, five raised their hands. I think if the teacher had asked for those who had taken public transport fewer than 10 times in their young lives, the number would have more than doubled or tripled.

Many of us live in ivory towers. I know I did. I used to think Singapore was pretty much ‘it’ all – a fantastic meritocracy that allowed an ‘HDB child’ from a non-graduate family to make it. I boasted about our efficiency – ‘you can emerge from your plane and be out in 10 minutes’ – and so on.

It was not that I thought little of the rest of the world or other people; it was that I was so ensconced in my cocoon, I just thought little of anything outside my own zone. ‘Snow? Yes, nice.’ ‘Starvation in Ethiopia? Donate $50.’ The wonders of the world we lived in, the sufferings and joys of those who shared this earth were just academic knowledge to me, voraciously devoured for my essays or to hold intelligent conversations at dinner parties.

Then I lived in China for seven years. I looked on in amazement as the skinny tree trunk in front of my yard blossomed and bore pomegranates when spring thawed the ground. And marvelled at the lands that spread east, west, north and south of me as we drove and drove and drove, and never ended. I became friends and fans of colleagues and other Chinese nationals, whom so many Singapore friends had warned me to be wary of.

I realised it was not the world and other people who were limited in their intellect, in their determination, in their resourcefulness; it was me and my world views which were limited. I also know full well that if I had stayed in Singapore, in my cushy job, comfortable in my Bukit Timah home, I would have remained the same – self-sufficient. I had always believed that if I put my mind to it, I could achieve anything. For example, I used to look at sick people and root: ‘Fight with all your willpower, and you will recover.’ And when they did not, I’d think they had failed themselves. I, like Ms Leong, believed ‘mental dexterity equated strength of character and virtue’.

But those years in China taught me terrible lessons on loneliness. I learnt that money (an expatriate pay package) and brains (suitcases of books) did not make me happier than my maid who cycled home to her family every night in minus 20 deg C on icy roads to a dinner of rice and vegetables. The past few years, I have known devastating loss and grief so deep I woke up in the morning and wondered how the sun could still shine and people could go on with their lives.

And so perhaps I have learnt the humility I lacked. Humility about how small I am in the whole schema of things. About how helpless I truly stand, with my intellect in my hands, with my million-dollar roof over my head. To remember, in the darkest valleys of my journey, it was not Ayn Rand or other Booker list authors who lifted me, but the phone calls, the kindness of strangers, that made each day a little less bleak.

And perhaps finally, to really see other people, and understand – not deflect, nor reflect their anger and viewpoints, but see their shyness, pain, struggles, joys. Just because I was ‘fortunate enough’ to have trawled the bottom levels. And perhaps that is the antidote to the oft unwitting elitism so many of us carry with us.

“Hi Pastor Kenny,

Anyhow, yes I did go to NUS Business School. Here’s my personal & unbiased(as much as possible) opinion about both schools….My feel about NTU is that it offers a more technical(because they start specialising in the 2nd year) grounded type of approach toward business education, whilst NUS tends to offer a more generic strategic(because they only start specialising in the 3rd year) type of approach. The good thing about NTU is that it offers direct honours to those who qualify, i.e. they don’t have to spend an extra year just to get their honours, whilst NUS has its students(those that qualify) spend one year on academic research to come out with a thesis to be awarded honours. Qualification is based on attainment of a certain GPA(grade point average, maximum 4) or CAP(cumulative average points, maximum 5). NTU uses the former whilst NUS uses the latter. However, I’m not sure if there has been changes in the systems in either schools since I have left NUS for about 4 years coming already. (Whoa! I didn’t know it was THAT long ago!)

I do not think that employers in Singapore today favour NUS over NTU, or vice versa. I verified this with a couple of my HR colleagues as well. From personal experience, when I was hiring 2 graduate interns in my job 2 years ago, I did meet with some NUS and NTU business graduates. My opinion from the employer side of the table, based on those interviews, was that the NUS students were more able to handle themselves in a professional manner and their responses to my questions tended to be slanted more “big-picture”. The NTU students, on the other hand, tended to be more reserved and did not leave as strong an impression as the NUS students. I’d like to think that this is an unbiased opinion, because my manager agreed with my assessment as well, and she’s from NTU. (Hahaha….)

But having said that, I don’t think either school is stronger than the other….they just offer different approaches to business studies. Your son should go with his heart and he’ll be fine. But just out of curiosity, did your son also consider SMU? I understand they offer a very good business program as well and based on the few SMU graduates I know, I’ve been quite impressed and I also heard good feedback about the program being offered there, although they do tend to be slightly pricier than NUS/NTU.

As for becoming CFA, I don’t think going to either school would aid or hinder him from getting that qualification. It shouldn’t, since CFA is a professional qualification and it is strictly based on a seperate set of coursework to be done, and I believe either NUS or NTU would give him the appropriate grounding. I always think that its most important to enjoy yourself while studying because that’s when you won’t drag your feet to school and you’d avail yourself to be receive whatever your professor has to impart. So, go with the heart….that’s what I say….

Thanks for writing. Hear from you again and see you around soon…

Cheers,
Darryl

p.s. your son should do well in Uni….i have very high esteem for people who go from the poly into university because they’re very hardworking people yet humble and capable. I always enjoy working with them in my uni days.”

(Re-posted from old blogpastor file dated 9th May 2007 for the benefit of those applying for university entry next month)

There were three from ACS so I asked them with curiousity. What is the ACS spirit? None were able to give a definitive answer. “It cannot be defined”. “It is unity and loyalty.” “It is being passionate and proud of your school”. Does the school give a clear written definition of what “it” is in its publications or talks? “No”. So what is “it”. Most government and neighbourhood schools don’t have “it”. Does MGS have a “MGS spirit”?, I inquired. “Yes it has “it”. RI seem to have “it”. SJI, St Andrew’s and Victoria also. Is “it” a sense of tradition and pride since it seems to be present in very old schools. Then why doesn’t Gan Eng Seng Sec Sch have “it”?

When I was studying at Swiss Cottage Secondary School, which was among the three best schools from Rochor to Woodlands,    Rudy Mosbergen was the principal and he tried to inculcate a Swiss spirit. It didn’t work. After he left for RJC or RI, the spirit left with him.

This spirit inhabits ex-ACS students and sort of holds them in loving bondage for a long time, often over several generations. Very few get delivered!  I know this from experience. I was climbing Mt Batur in Bali with some trekkies a few years back and we were all just conversing in the hotel room’s front porch when suddenly two persons in their mid fifties sort of “found” each other and realized they were both ex-ACS, and they both broke off spontaneously into the ACS school anthem, and they knew the words by heart. I was stunned and looked curiously for there before me was the “it” in manifestation. The “spirit” had take control of the subjects’ vocal chords and sung. I can’t remember the lyrics, not even the tune of my school song. Even if I did, I wouldn’t be caught singing it as an adult in front of other adults. To me, it was so uncool to be doing that, but they were doing it. I really had a good laugh and rubbed it in and they took it sportingly.

I googled “ACS spirit” to see if there was a definition but there was none. Instead I was led to a forum where an ex-ACS was ranting at the whole ACS spirit thing. It was “snobbery”. The ACS spirit existed only among the doctors, accountants, entrepreneurs and successful exes who attended the alumni dinners held at expensive places. It was the old boys network patting each others back. He claimed the ACS spirit comprised overly enthusiastic persistent insensitive evangelism; constant intolerable appeals and pressure for donations for all kinds of projects; and taunts and pressures to conform that came from various groups or cliques who were loyalists and true blue ACSian of several generations, among whom were informants, plants, agents,etc. Well for sure this one ex-ACS boy had a bitter experience there. (The rest better keep quiet, you may need to work for Ong Beng Seng or under Mr Tharman Shanmugaratnam one day!)

I also asked the young adults, “Is the ACS spirit as strong in ACS Independent as it is in ACS Barker? What about ACJC, is “it” really present there?” Their answers are that “it” is present in ACS-i and Barker but less so in ACJC. The tougher question, which I didn’t ask them for obvious reasons, is:”Is the ACS spirit stronger in the older generation than in the present generation?” “Do they have it across the causeway?” Hmmm…this is one for the older to answer, and I think most will answer in negative, or with hesitation or doubt.

But it seems the “it” is present in the generation of Malcolm Loh, who wrote two posts in his blog which together with the ACJC birthday report got my juices going to write this post. This was what he said about the “it”:

“I realise that no matter how bald or fat some of us have become, there is a certain air of confidence that ACS boys have about them (others would call it arrogance). Even from a tender age of 7 at Primary 1, we were taught the school anthem (”ACS Forever”) and our motto (”The Best is Yet to Be”), and that is deeply ingrained in every single ACSian, so much so that this ACS-identity sticks with us through the rest of our lives. This is very evident to others, and that is why I know of many guys who, even though from other schools, have chosen to put their sons in ACS. I have yet to come across an ACSian who chooses to put his son in a school other than ACS.”

Another thing the ACS spirit exudes is this “cool” factor: that the ACS boy is not as nerdy and boring as the SJI or RI or St Andrew’s or other boys. They are happening and make nice dates. In fact, at a wedding dinner I heard the bride said one of her criteria for life partner is that he should be from ACS! She had said it tongue in cheek but I wonder if the bermudas, the BMWs and the bravado have created a brand that has become as desirable as Prada, among eligible females looking for a nesting partner?

(This was posted on 14 November 2008 and re-published because ACS was on my mind.)

We tell them to study hard so that they will enter the right schools, the right courses, and finally land the right jobs. We assume this is what makes for a comfortable and happy life. Watch this video and see if it stimulates deeper thought.

It was in Jason’s blog Your Will where I first saw this video.