Elizabeth Wong at Women’s Political Participation Summit in City University of Hong Kong

Posted on March 18, 2011 by admin

Who knew I’d hear about this thing from another mummy and mummy blog it?

Wise men say, “Better to remain quiet and seem stupid than to open your mouth and remove all doubt.” Obviously they haven’t met bloggers (like me). In fact, I hope I sound totally stupid – all you dirty tactics, harassing political crazies take note: I have no bloody clue regarding politics so you can just leave me alone to my cute pictures of my son.

Talk is cheap. And I am a Malaysian who, after a decade in Singapore (studied there 5 years, then was bonded min 3 years per the Singapore government tuition grant I accepted) and coming on 7 years in Hong Kong after the hot husband got a job offer here, thinks I don’t get to talk much even. (I then lost my Singapore PR because I didn’t work there anymore – last thing I was told is I’ll get it back if I go back there to work which I guess is fair – not working there want PR for what?)

Decisions are made by those who show up. By those who stayed behind.

Since I haven’t lived in Malaysia for almost 2 decades (but can’t quite bring myself to give up citizenship just yet), I feel obliged to strive for at least equal oblivious-ness regarding the politics in every other country. But it’s the least I can do to give up a Saturday to go hear Elizabeth Wong speak.

For the non-Malaysians reading my blog, Elizabeth Wong is a widely respected human rights and environment activist who, in the wake of the scandal of pictures her then boyfriend is alleged to have released of her (some of which are nude, some of which many people believe to also have been doctored) that was then politicized, resigned from all posts. Some of those posts were won with landslide margins and she was then reinstated after repeated demonstrations by her constituents and appeals by the NGOs.

Almost 2 decades living abroad, I’d barely heard of her (despite her huge popularity in Malaysia – yes I know, shame on me) until on one of my weekly calls home my mum told me about the pictures scandal.

That is the thing terrorists and the people who take cheap shots will never understand – that they serve the very cause of those they choose to stifle, in doing things like capitalizing on pictures. Because they come up so stinky from the bad behavior a lot more people don’t want to stand near them. So thank you, nude picture posting internet crazies – it’s your fault I will be giving up a Saturday to go to this place I have never been to in Kowloon just to hear her speak after finding out she has been invited to Hong Kong.

Because when you don’t succeed in stifling someone, you just piss them off with your bad behavior so much they get even more determined. And this time lots more people who weren’t paying attention in the first place suddenly realize damn, Ms Wong must really be something. (Hi there, have we met?)

If I knew just one thing about her, it is the strength and determination she demonstrated in choosing to carry on despite the horrible things people have tried to do to her. Please notice I said tried. She is like a poster child for Malaysians living abroad because she is one of those who chose to stay back and try to make it better. And she got hit by the truck we all fear and she’s still going. You betcha it’s the very least I can do to show up.

Wouldn’t her haters just die that she turned the crap they threw at her into fertilizer for the very causes they were trying to stifle her out of championing?

And I’d like to see the nude picture posting crazies keep at it if it happened to them. Oh wait, no one knows who they all are?

Well then how the hell can anyone expect to win “good people” over if they do cheap stuff? (Maybe there were a few people left who didn’t know they had taken cheap shots? Can’t be a lotta fun wondering when they’ll find out.)

Btw Ms Wong, I never looked at the pictures. (What for, already decided it’s a cheap shot, go and see for what?) I actually have no idea how bad (or not) they are. Bet I wasn’t the only one. Didn’t the villagers stay indoors when that lady rode naked on horseback through the streets of Coventry? And then the one guy who just had to take a peek was rendered blind? Or was it dead?

Shut up. So what if that was legend. I’m going to hear her speak, aren’t I?

Ps: Please tell me I dug deep to bring the stupid – because IQ is hereditary and I’m still a mummy.

The second Women’s Political Participation Summit – Challenges and Opportunities, co-organized by the Network for Women in Politics, The National Democratic Institute for International Affairs (NDI) and the Department of Asian and International Studies of the City University of Hong Kong will be held on March 26, 2011 Saturday at Lecture Theatre 14 Academic Building, City University of Hong Kong, Tat Chee Avenue, Kowloon – 1:30pm – 6pm.

Topics will include: “Pushing for women’s participation within a male dominated structure”, ‘A look at obstacles faced by women both within the legislature and executive’, ‘Hong Kong Media and the Gender Perspective’, ‘Women’s Participation in Public Affairs – A Cultural Perspective’ as well as a comparative look at the Cambodian and Malaysian experiences as well.

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CSI HK Island – The Green Pool In The Apartment

Posted on March 17, 2011 by admin

(Oh come on, muppets can do Humpty Dumpty newsreports, I can’t investigate murky pools of paint-water in the living room?)

Rockstars get breakfast in bed for good behavior

The Other Day:-

<weird CSI sound at beginning of episode>

“Mum. Look.”

From a late breakfast and vegging on the sofa in front of CNBC, I peer over the armrest and bookshelf.

Crime Scene: The Rockstar is sitting in a pool of muddy green water on a plastic sheet over the living room floor, medicine syringe in hand, a half doz mostly empty white bowls in front of him.

Medicine Syringe: After I came clean about putting medicine in his milk, Rockstar has been measuring out his own medicine (2.5ml Cosyr, 2ml Polaramine etc) as well as getting his own milk when he’s sick; except we’ve been fortunate enough not to need medicine recently* and he said he missed syringing something.

*Have been telling him that touching his face as little as possible with his hands when he’s in school during flu season will cut the chances of him getting sick and having to miss school… So he scratches his nose with the back of his hand or sleeve, something my mum in law complained about because she thinks it looks a bad habit but well it’s cutting down the likelihood of colds during flu alerts (and I would seriously be less freaked about flus here if you didn’t keep hearing about people dying from them).

Also drummed into him that medicines are for particular illnesses, and there are dosage labels he’s learning to read. At any rate self-medicating is forbidden and we keep the medicine high out of reach, but on the offchance we ever visit friends or relatives who don’t keep meds out of reach, I explain about medicine and such whenever I can.

White Bowls: They were filled with different colored water, Rockstar was mixing colors (dissolved a few drops of Rockstar’s paints in them, thought the white would make colors stand out more).

Plastic Sheet: Just something from an old game he pulled out of a drawer to jump on.

How It Happened: No Bloody Idea. Most of the water from all the bowls, not just one, was in his lap. Guess he syringed everything into the bowl in his lap. Then kept going even after it was full. And spilled it.

“Are you angry?”

“Uh, I won’t be if you make it easy for me to change you out of those clothes. Obviously you can’t wear those wet clothes to school now.”

Rockstar nods solemnly.

I glance at the crime scene – there’s not much water left in the bowl, he’s probably not going to be at it much longer. “You may as well carry on playing in that mess before I change you, when you’re done let me know.”

15 minutes later:

“Mum. I’m done.”

So I come over and –

Bloody hell. I didn’t say a word to him about cleaning up, I was just thinking to stay calm and get him into a fresh uniform without a fight (he hates being rushed and bossed) so I bit down on my reflex to freak at him about the mess.

School run was in a half hour from when I first arrived on the crime scene to find my school uniformed son sitting in a pool of paint water. But 10 minutes before time he’s stacked all the empty bowls and mopped the mess up with the old towel I set aside to clean it with.

“I cleaned up,” Rockstar looks pleased with himself but like it’s no big deal. His mother however, is flabbergasted.

“Uh, thank you. Ready to change now?” Still can’t believe it. Maybe aliens parked on the balcony and abducted my flesh and blood while I was in the next room getting the towel. But then the dog would have said something. Maybe they took her too. And then they performed their Weird Alien Experiments on behavior modification, returning child and dog in the blink of an eye. Alien Technology could also have mastered time travel.

Who can tell, it’s Alien Technology.

Maybe I was the experiment.

Aliens are watching me.

“You’re welcome.” Was it really my son that just said that?

As I get fresh clothes on – even his underwear is soaked through – I search his head for any traces of brain surgery. Strange marks at the base of his skull. Alien gadgets attached behind his ears.

Nothing. Just the bumps he’s had from birth (giant headed baby, pelvic bone in the way, you do the math). Maybe they put the gadgets up through his nose.

Amazing.

We were not late for school that day.

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Frying the Apple iPad 2 in Hong Kong

Posted on March 15, 2011 by admin

(Yes, I know Japanese nuclear reactors have gone off and there are families even in HK and Singapore who have been Bloomberg chatting about hopping a plane to Aussieland if it gets worse. But I personally know little about Japan beyond what everyone else can read off the newswires – so instead here’s a blog post on it that I liked)

<Guiltily back to mundane stuff> My dad wants an iPad 2, so I’m waiting for it to come out in Hong Kong and asked some local friends to let me know any news they picked up on when I could start queue-ing online to buy it. Then yesterday morning someone told me Apple Daily had reported a Hong Kong student who was studying abroad in the States brought home 12 iPads for resale here – making a cool profit (unclear gross or net) of HKD 150,000.

(No this is not a typo. And btw doing this is illegal in China, but not Hong Kong.) There were apparently also 50 pieces snapped up within 2 hours in Mong Kok, at giant premiums. Chinese nationals accounted for more than half the sales and PLEASE tell me if that’s not what the article says because I can’t read the Chinese, I’m just reproducing what my local friend tells me.

“Why go to college,” my friend sighed.

Anyway speaking of reproducing, someone sent this Apple Daily table to me, it  apparently shows the “fry” prices in HK, vs the original prices in the States (adjusted into HKD):

(Yes the 64 GB Wifi + 3G  white iPad2 is going for more than double its original price. Mr Jobs is creating jobs – in Hong Kong, that is.)

Mr Gadget’s unboxing video of sexy iPad 2 may give a clue to the crazy “fry” levels…

This is the most spectacular “fry” since the middle-aged auntie who spent her morning free time queueing for the now-really-hard-to-get-in-sold-out-Hongkieland iPhone 4 at various Fortresses around Hong Kong until she made more than HKD 20,000 profit from (I think it was) 10 phones in a month. Hong Kong aunties love Mr Jobs too <swoon>

Take that iPad 2!

Rockstar gets equal mileage from the cardboard box my boots came in. (I am embarking on finally learning how to wear higher heels with my very first pair of 100mms.) Bike helmets are necessary safety measures when flying cardboard boxes.

Does technology help or hurt our kids?

I’ve got friends in both corners. On the one hand, a Singaporean family with a 4-and-a-half year old girl and 1 year old boy; the girl has an iPad, her parents say this is the world their kids are going to live and grow up in – with technology. On the other hand, a Malaysian family (living here) with 2 boys roughly the same age as Singaporean family, who feel pretty strongly about not letting their kids have a lot of technology – their older boy gets a pen and paper and isn’t allowed to play with his mum’s phone. He can draw some fantastic pictures – houses, scenery… I’m not sure how much little girl in Singapore with iPad draws, but she received serious writing lessons, so her penmanship is pretty awesome too.

As for 38 month old Rockstar, he gets pen and paper and laptops and iPhones. Sometimes he wants pen and paper, sometimes he wants the technology – frankly sometimes it’s just whichever buys his mother more time when she needs a moment. At any given time it could as just as likely be the one or the other. (He doesn’t get much writing instruction btw, I wanted him to scribble all he wants and he likes doing that on fogged up mirrors and magna doodle.)

Once a week… the Rockstar also gets about a half hour of video games at the Bel Air Clubhouse (I always bring him about a half hour before the arcade closes and they kick everyone out for cleaning, so there’s no way the time can run over).

Shock! Horror!! But I didn’t want to completely restrict anything because I thought its forbidden status might make him want it more – I grew up with classmates who had terrible relationships with junk food and video games. Their parents (by strange coincidence many of whom were doctors) were very restrictive about the “bad stuff” and the kids would hide food or find incredibly creative ways to get into arcades.

I’d rather Rockstar find no added fascination in the bad stuff – he’s been known to leave the games room before his 30 minutes are up, or turn down a second piece of candy because he’s “had enough.” To me this is a lot more valuable than me being able to completely restrict him from games or candy – because I won’t always be there to do so.

I continue to be annoyed at Kings who told him “all kids like ice cream” because before he said that Rockstar would never even finish a scoop of ice cream.

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Rockstarism #108 & #109

Posted on March 14, 2011 by admin

#108:

Rockstar: Can I have another chocolate?

Me: No, darling, you had ice cream earlier, that’s enough chocolate for the day

15 mins later:

Rockstar: Can I have more fish?

Me (thinking oh no, who knew he was on such a binge today, are we under-feeding him?):

Sorry darling, remember you finished all your fish and extra helpings? (I told him earlier he’d completely cleaned us out of fish). Do you want some cheese instead?

Rockstar (grinning): No, some chocolate

 

#109:

Me (to Rockstar, about to KO on the sofa): Come put on your pyjamas, before you fall asleep and then get mad at mummy for waking you to change

Rockstar: No.

Me: Why no?

Rockstar: Because I said so.

Me: Oh for goodness’ sake if mummy said that to you you’d be totally mad about it not being a good enough reason.

Rockstar: Then because – because – because I get really angry sometimes when I say No! No! No! and you still take pictures of me on your phone! <fake huffiness>

Me: What’s that got to do with pyjamas?

Rockstar: <Silence>

Me: What’s –

Rockstar: <very huffily> SSHHHHH!!! I. Want. To. Sleep. Pray for monsters.

Me (getting his pyjamas on very casually): Dear Father, please protect us from monsters –

Rockstar: And Flamingos.

Me: What?

Rockstar: FLA-mingos. The birds.

Me: Why?

Rockstar: Because they’re BIG birds that peck.

Note: I corrected him on “peck” – he initially said “bite”

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The Real Reason For Teacher’s Day

Posted on March 12, 2011 by admin

Before he was awarded a strong First in Accounting and Finance at the London School of Economics, before he founded the Financial Markets Society (which became the largest club in LSE in its first year – it was really a mentoring program for investment banks to get an early pick of promising candidates), my husband began his education at primary level in the worst-performing class of a public school in a small town outside Seremban, Malaysia.

Kings developed a particular loathing for the English language early in school life, after encountering a teacher who threw his books out the windows and who constantly made unfavorable comparisons between him and an apparently “brighter” cousin of his. My husband cut school whenever he could.

I’m almost sure it’s why to this day my husband seemingly deliberately, defiantly makes basic grammatical mistakes in his English – despite tertiary education at LSE and stints on the derivatives desks of some major British investment banks in London. It is Kings-speak for “F- U English Teacher.”

By the time he was 12, Kings was in the worst class, the one meant for kids with no hope of academic success. That’s when Mr Chan came to teach Math.

As he scrawled on the blackboard, Mr Chan often made mistakes. He was, however, very appreciative when you pointed them out to him. Oh – right! WHY didn’t I see that! Of course! Thank you!

Class of Losers soon decided they were going to have to pay close attention to keep poor Mr Chan from embarrassing himself further. He was the teacher, after all. But it was everyone’s responsibility to ensure the class wasn’t a total shambles from the ridiculous sums scrawled on the board. Productivity in class was a shared responsibility.

By the time Kings sat for the SPM (roughly the equivalent of “O” levels in Malaysia) 5 years later, he had progressed to the “A” class, from the “K” class. But it was many more years before he paused long enough to look back and realize Mr Chan Math classes weren’t a potential shambles by accident. Decades later, Kings still wonders what his life would have been like without Mr Chan.

According to Stanford economist Eric Hanushek , your child is actually better off in a bad school with an excellent teacher, than in an excellent school with a bad teacher. “Teacher Effect” also greatly outweighs class-size effect (since class size was my only real concern about ESF because with the government subsidy from primary and up the government also sets the class size at 30, you can understand my motivation in digging this up).

The only problem is, especially to most grownups, a lousy teacher looks unsettlingly like a good one. (Since I believe in a good teacher’s ability to motivate, I tend to be biased toward teachers who sure, command respect, but more importantly are also liked by the kids.)

Back when I worked and spent a lot less time home with Rockstar, we briefly hired a (on paper) highly credentialed teacher (along with a bunch of neighbors’ kids etc – we just wanted more people speaking to baby Rockstar in proper English and Putonghua, rather than leaving him home for extended periods with just the helper, when I used to work).

We fired this teacher within weeks. She was arrogant, we had to buy a bunch of music instruments, some of them duplicates of what we already had in our home (but she insisted on stuff like us buying the full package off her chosen websites), before she would even agree to come in. And she was extremely calculative about her time slots. If she was 10-15 minutes late (fairly often), she still left unfailingly on the dot.

But the last straw was when, unbidden, she volunteered that she frequently stayed beyond her allocated time slot to “work on something” with baby Rockstar – when in fact she never stayed (we knew this from our stay-at-home mum Aussie neighbor with 2 teenaged kids who had our spare key and used to stop by to play with our dog in the next room). Frankly we are not that calculative about the occasional early dismissal or late start – it was this teacher’s attitude that I didn’t want around the Rockstar. Cv be damned.

(And no I didn’t replace her with another teacher – Rockstar was well, a baby. It wasn’t like we expected him to have formal lessons, we just advertised for people to come talk to and play with him because we were off working long hours, but then she contacted us with this super cv and so we were intrigued).

In contrast, I then took little interest in the credentials of Rockstar’s Putonghua Tutor (partly because I can’t communicate with her very well haha). She spent a session with Kings taking notes about Rockstar’s personality, his liking for Disney Cars stickers and bugs – and showed up on her first day armed with the same.

After her trial run, she named her price – 25% higher than Highly Credentialed (on paper) Teacher. We agreed without much thought because we didn’t know anyone else. It was only after the first few months we realized Putonghua Tutor more than made up for the additional expense by paying out of her own pocket (which she was not expected to do) to tailor make her sessions to Rockstar. Looking around our apartment one day, we realized we’d been billed for less than all the stuff lying about. It was uh, kind of obvious.

But it was the day I noticed Rockstar fairly often selected Putonghua lesson books (with Pinyin cheats) when asked what he would like for storytime, that I knew she was cool. She can come as late/ leave as early as she wants.

Anyway. If attitude (more than paper) be a huge deciding factor in determining a good from a bad teacher, it isn’t that easy to do at a glance. And isn’t that the same problem very expensive international schools potentially also have when picking their teachers?

It’s inconceivable that a Mr Chan should be paid roughly the same as a Ms FU. Investment banking bonuses should be made available to the Mr Chans of the world – otherwise more of ‘em will end up investment bankers rather than teachers. In the same way every Ms FU should be fired – they have no business playing a part in something as important as the shaping of young minds.

As for the people blessed with the fun job of selecting Mr Chans from Ms FUs, shouldn’t they be getting the same kinds of incentives as the managers who pick players for the NFL, NBA and what-not?

It’s a sick world we live in, people who manage our money or entertainment on ESPN get paid way more than the people who deal with our children. And yeah I realize the irony, this coming from two bankers <sheepish>.

The least we can do is not bitch about salaries in the education field.

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The Monster Prayer

Posted on March 11, 2011 by admin

“Dear Father, please keep the monsters away from our dreams, our thoughts, and our feelings. Please bless us with a peaceful sleep, that we may rest well and grow strong, and tall -“

(Rockstar cuts in) “No”.

What do you mean ‘No’?”

“Not tall. Only strong.”

“Why not tall?”

“Because I might hit my head on something.”


Rockstar recited the Lord’s Prayer by himself for the first time on 22 Dec last year while we were in San Francisco for the hols… But shortly after, he started whizzing thru it so quickly it was almost unintelligible. Then he learned he could pray for bad dreams to go away. I’m not completely sure that’s just for the kiddies – I want bad dreams to go away too. And not just the ones you get when you’re asleep…

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Walking The Talk

Posted on March 9, 2011 by admin

***Updated at bottom

Sitting in the waiting room before it’s time to go up for my volunteer slot during playtime at Rockstar’s school, I suddenly notice the parent library in the corner. How long has that been there? The school has a selection of books parents can sign out, many (if not all) of which look in mint condition. M-aybe I’m not the only parent whose child has been attending school for at least 3 or 4 months and didn’t know there was a corner of selected books we could sign out <clutching at straws of redemption even as loss of face sinks my boat as water seeps in thru too-thin skin y-eah I have no idea what I just said please ignore>

So this time I’m assigned an area I’ve pretty much never really stepped into, at a table with an alphabet lacing activity and a corner game where kids can throw a giant foam dice, count the spots, and stick Velcro-ed bears onto the corresponding numbers on a chart featuring a chutes and ladders-esque snake.

One of the staff I’m stationed with remarks Rockstar’s been getting excited shooting hoops out back. I… had no idea. We had a hoop long ago, he didn’t stay interested, I figured soccer was more his thing and got rid of the tattered little plastic hoop. But… Soccer is not Kings’ thing. He thinks it’s a dangerous sport and people die from it. Basketball is Kings’ thing. He-of-the-horrendous-triglyceride-level-inspired-street-basketball-games-despite-gruelling-work-and-travel-schedules shall now renew hopes of father-son bonding time. It’s valuable information since Kings doesn’t have that much time to spare and he’s got to make his basketball games or his doctor will make him feel bad.

Then some kids start on the dice game:

“We scored “1”s three times on the dice. That’s 3 bears to stick on the “1” square. So a “1” three times is …? That’s right, three! 1 times 3 is 3!” <feel so good about myself>

(My dad used to get mad at me when I couldn’t tell the difference between 1 X 3 and 3 X 1)

A little girl rolls two 2s.

“2 plus 2 is 4!” Uh, yes! Absolutely!

“2 times 2 is also 4!” <start to feel less good about myself>

Rockstar jumps in, “And 2 and 2 is twenty two!”

“Oh look, how many dots on the dice? That’s one row of 3 dots, and another row of 3 dots, 2 rows of 3. 3 times 2 is 6!”

“6 plus 6 is twelve”

What the hell? Do kids talk math like this to each other all day? I can’t even sound smart to a bunch of Kindergarten 1 kids? Tis a dark day indeed…

Rockstar remarks a couple times that I’m “boring” (well, d-uh ye-ah, how the hell was I supposed to know some of your friends are talking multiplication already?) and wanders off. Close to the end of class I get “Mum. It’s time to go,” (he means me – he wants me to leave and “circle time” to start). “I’ll see you later”.

But I can tell he’s happy I came in. Like the last time, I get a lot more cuddles after. Rockstar’s been questioning a lot of things I tell him again and we were having like, a fight a day. As in, “How come this time you weren’t as angry as last time I <insert minor infraction> ?**”

Rockstar accepts correction for being rude, but sometimes I get told off if I freak about say, him touching the toilet right after I washed his hands. (The difference being rude was deliberate, but touching the toilet was an accident – the Rockstar believes he should take more flak for deliberate naughtiness, less for accidents, and I have to admit it’s a fair point. But I’m a germ freak. I have asked for his forgiveness on this one. He has nodded solemnly.)

You could say with a child like that, I need a school volunteer program like this.

I once heard Christian author Gary Thomas in a Sacred Parenting seminar at church talk about the low success rate of getting a child to be the things you hoped he would be, if you were hypocritical about it. You have to be the things you want your child to be. Then I got the brainwave that since I wanted to motivate my strong-willed child about taking school and learning seriously, it would really help if I could show him how much I too enjoyed participating in school activities and how seriously I took the responsibilities I was given in school.

But the lurve and good behavior I seem to get each time right after my volunteer slot have been a real added bonus. “Take school seriously. Learning is fun!” carries more weight with my strong-willed son when mummy does the same. Little did I foresee after getting him to like school, showing him I was supportive of school would get him to like me.

<youtube video???>

(That last is a reference to “I love you mummy, but I don’t like you,” this increasingly famous Youtube clip of a little boy who doesn’t like his mummy probably for when she disciplines him and so only likes her when she gives him cookies.)

** My answer was “When I got angrier was when you had already done several other naughty things during the day, thereby making me more tired and impatient. If you are mostly well-behaved during the day, mummy is less tired and more tolerant of <insert minor infractions>. Good behavior pays off because your mother is also human. Everyone you deal with is human – you will get better reactions if you behave better.” And yes, I really say that because he asks me quite often why it’s important to treat people well.

*** I wasn’t able to reply in the comments section as the platform is under maintenance, I meant to express surprise if there was really math tuition available at this age, I hadn’t known… I actually thought they picked up some of that math from talking to each other in school or with older siblings at home…  for eg those with older siblings pick it up, get encouraged to talk at school playtime, other kids start picking it up (because what their friends say to sound smart always looks cooler) and coming home and impressing parents like yours truly (yeah yeah in a perfect world where your child eats all his greens and says no politely to marshmallows) 😀

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Toddlers & Tiaras

Posted on March 8, 2011 by admin

**With update at bottom

“On any given weekend, on stages across the country…..”

“……… parade around wearing makeup, false eyelashes, spray tans and fake hair to be judged on their beauty, personality and costumes.”

“…..preparation is intense as it gets down to the final week before the pageant”.

“…..From hair and nail appointments, to finishing touches on gowns and suits”

Guess what this is.

Miss Universe?

Miss Landmine (Everyone Has The Right To Be Beautiful)? => My favorite. Don’t you dare read irony in that. There is none.

Miss Plastic Surgery?

Miss Kawaii Gyaru?

Miss I Used To Be A Man, Now I’m A Much Better Looking Woman Than You Are?

In Toddlers & Tiaras, they follow little kiddie beauty pageants all over the country. As told to me by a girlfriend from the States, there’s some kind of system to qualifying at various levels, even some of the tiny affairs in hotel ballrooms count as experience….

[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x9QzMEyNYoM]

Ok you can tell I wasn’t paying attention at this point… It’s because I hadn’t made it past the bit about a Swimsuit Round in some of these pageants that is supposed to mimic those done in the grownup rounds.

When Rockstar was at some of the playgrounds in San Francisco, we and another Asian family were the only ones with cameras. We got looks. This was a playground which had a sign, “No adult allowed unless accompanied by a child.” We… promptly took a picture of that. Thing is, it doesn’t always occur to some Asians why filming someone’s kids might cause discomfort. Some Asians would just film every darn thing.

At an event last year one of the very local Hongkie bloggers happily snapped away at Rockstar and asked what his real name was, without thinking to ask if she could put all that up (not that I can read her blog anyway, I’m completely illiterate in Chinese). We might have chatted a lot more if my Cantonese vocabulary weren’t so limited and if she spoke more English, she and her family were quite nice and polite. But it simply didn’t strike them as rude to click away at Rockstar, nor why some mums might not like it.

When I recall getting looks as I filmed Rockstar on my iPhone in said playground in San Francisco, especially from a dad who at one point snuck a quick glance at my screen to see if his daughter was in the frame, I realize this is one of the big differences between some local families and some expats. (It’s also why Rockstar’s school reminds volunteers not to film anyone else’s child when we enter the school premises.)

I think local tv has talent shows, I’m not sure if there are any Hong Kong toddler pageants though. It was surprising to discover, given the difference in “tolerance levels” to filming Hong Kong vs American kids, that there’s a whole tv program with all this pageant and behind-the-scenes footage.

Anyway. I download the TnT application form from the website:

16. DESCRIBE YOUR PERSONALITY AT THE PAGEANT. ARE YOU COMPETITIVE?

17. DESCRIBE YOUR PAGEANT KID’S PERSONLITY ON AND OFF STAGE AT THE PAGEANT.

18. DOES YOUR CHILD HAVE A COACH OR ARE YOU THE COACH? (WOULD THE COACH BE WILLING TO GO ON CAMERA?

Heee.
(yes I saw the typo in the form on question 17)

On one hand you want to get all “WHAT’S WRONG WITH THESE PEOPLE???,” but on the other hand you continue to watch in a kind of horrified fascination as parents spend thousands of dollars on dresses and makeup and hair pieces and tricked-out 10 year olds go “I’m the most beautiful. I hate all the other girls!” (Haven’t found that clip yet, someone told me about it only, but I did see the one with USD 1800-3000 dresses <feel so good about my shopping expenses> and the Madonna pointy-bra one..)

I was so amazed by this show though. Some of these parents push their children to excel – except instead of piano or violin, it’s to enter beauty pageants and put on eye liner. I bloody hate eye liner. Most of these kids in the “glitz” photos have more makeup on than I did at my wedding.

(I have very low tolerance for these things, even sparkly eye makeup can make me want to claw my eyes out so I’m just looking at all these little kids and going how on earth did they get this stuff on them??? Same way they get kids to practice scales and arpeggios I guess… But I think some of these kids actually have quite a high tolerance for all the makeup and stuff <shame on me>)

And then there are all the people who watch the show <guilty>.

Oh, these sickos. <cough>

Then again pageant contestant parents might have used some of this to get their kids to practice the piano or violin some other such for the talent round, though those scenes might end up on the cutting room floor as less entertaining tv. Late for a lunch appointment at Pacific Place the other day, I almost managed to get a cellphone picture of this little girl (from her back, so no one can scold me) avidly watching the elegantly dressed pianist hired by the shopping center to play in the lobby. I met another mum whose under – 3 year old can ice skate – her motivation was the beautiful costumes.

Shortly after this was posted, I got the following email from a reader formerly from the UK who later allowed me to post her comments on condition of anonymity:

“I saw a trailer for this ages ago & even the shortish trailer got my blood boiling! I’ve never been a fan of pageants (any kind but especially ones that involve children) when I read about them in American magazines but these reality TV shows just made the whole thing worse. For me, those children pageants are all about the mothers and not about the child. The children are preened and primped to an inch of their lives. Their innocence is usually hidden behind layers of fake tan and make up! And some of the clothes that the little girls have worn are simply too shocking – kiddie versions of crop tops, mini skirts and bright red lipstick. If a grown up woman wore a similar outfit, many wouldn’t be thinking she looked cute or nice in that. There’s far too much sexualisation of children already but these pagents seem to make it even worse and especially with all the cameras going click, click. The girls are taught from a very young age that their worth is dependent on how slim and pretty they are. To me it just reeks of stage mum and doing so using her own daughter(s) is simply horrendous. The sad parents who want their piece of fame, at the expense of their daughter’s innocence.

As for taking photos of children in the UK & the USA, a lot of it stems from fears of child indecency and much worse. Far too many children have been taken advantage of and then apparently there are rings of these terribly sick people who trade photos with each other. It’s also another reason why that park in SF that you mentioned had that sign you mentioned.”

Many thanks for the candid response..

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Rockstar Does SPCA’s Bloggers Against Animal Cruelty

Posted on March 6, 2011 by admin

Hope it says “Bloggers Against Animal Cruelty” because all I can read is “Blogger”… Even as we try to coral everyone over and separate Rockstar from the pole

It were in a galaxy far, far away…

(But near a nice golf course should you wanna get a few rounds in while your carefully insect repellant doused child is training your pet (in the same perfect world where your child eats all his greens and says ‘no thank you’ politely to marshmallows))

There were faded kiddie stuff…

But mostly there were un-faded doggie stuff…

And doggies dressed in un-faded stuff….

Seriously un-faded stuff…

And then there were skinny dipping…

And streaking…

And royalty in carriages…

(And goodie bags)

And so it were a right orgy…

But Oh, So Educational…

The SPCA gave a meaty 50-minute talk about Animal Cruelty, complete with Smiling Blonde Assistant Whom Everyone Wanted To Fondle, to demonstrate unacceptable ways of tethering your pet (must have shade and water – and they check the animals for dehydration).

They also explained basic animal rights, neutering, the difference between training/ disciplining your pet and abuse. The policies are here. (I prefer to link rather than largely reproduce because the talk was carried out in Cantonese and mine is dodgy)

Penalties for animal abuse range from community service to weeks and up to 3 years’ imprisonment. The SPCA also fields loads of calls, including a large number of false alarms – I especially loved the bit where they reiterated that they would never complain about false alarms because they like that people in Hong Kong call up quickly and often about potential abuse cases

The T-shirt says “No Soup No Suffering”

(From what I understand dog soup is more popular in cold weather… It’s also illegal in Hong Kong)

The irony is I couldn’t bring myself to buy this T-shirt with its gory implications – so instead I donated, took a picture, and also bought an “I heart dogs” cloth shopping bag for my mum. If people doing despicable things to animals bothers you, their various memorabilia or collection boxes around the island are a super low commitment way to support the people who do the harder jobs of rescuing the animals, witnessing the terrible things done to them that make you ashamed to be of the same species as their abusers.

Even as the Rockstar tried out the competition pitch…

(Yes he really crawled all the way in there) <cringe>

And then set to work

(I wish… this is an impressive picture of him fake helping to put back the poles after the dogs knock them over, mostly he was brandishing those at friends who were entertaining him)

The end result is no surprise (we transferred him from car to bedspread).

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“Student Arrested Over Alleged Exam Cheating Via Cell Phone”

Posted on March 5, 2011 by admin

A Rockstar public service message: Cheating baaad. (Skates goooood).

“19-year-old student arrested over alleged exam cheating via cell phone”

Shock! Horror! This is news? Ok maybe the cell phone is news?

The push to perform has been so strong and for pretty long. Kids get rewarded for being top students, but how often are they rewarded as well for being top people? The incentives to cheat are so strong – and then when they grow into dodgy bankers, lawyers and what-not people are surprised?

In my second university year, my beloved maternal grandmother died. It was as close to being an emotional wreck as I ever got. She’d been one of my – our role models. My mother and I were inconsolable. I then flunked an exam for the first time in my life.

Flunk one kiss Honors goodbye unless say, you get an A in every other exam paper – I was in a course in a Singapore unuiversity back then where the average student had scored at least 3As in the Cambridge ‘A’ levels to get in. (You were lucky to get a spot if you “only” had 2As and a B. And you would probably not want to publicize the fact.)

I wrote to the appeals board, hoping for the opportunity to re-sit the paper without the albatross of a failed paper hanging over all my other grades in the consideration for Honors, and surprise, surprise, got nowhere.

(My Singaporean coursemates told me that was gonna happen – lotsa people were appealing Cs simply because they wanted As, so unless you had some medical reason backed by a hospital admission or something, can fergeddit. Damn. I should have gotten myself checked into a hospital with a prescription for Prozac or whatever would be accepted by the appeals board. What could possibly motivate me to lie that I needed meds?)

Speaking of Cs. Here’s how I got this C in secondary school. A black belt, grade 8, debating and Interact Club presidency took me out of class often enough that I would have to get the notes from a classmate on occasion. The “friend” I asked to fill me in on what chapters were covered in a test gave me the wrong ones.

Then there was the private piano teacher who called my mother to insist I sit for a lower grade than the one I was skipping a year for, because a distinction in the lower grade was almost guaranteed, thereby boosting her own track record for distinctions at the Associated Board of the Royal Schools of Music exams (we went Yamaha all the way after that).

Sometimes these things just become a habit: I remember a simple ethics test as one of the new hires going for a bank’s orientation program. It wasn’t tough, without paying too much attention my companion and I each had maybe 2 wrong answers. We only needed to get more right than wrong answers and had comfortably scored As – but then the test papers got left on the table and my companion took the opportunity to amend his test score to 100%.

(Btw, he was a one-time “management trainee” at a certain major bank. That’s code for he probably graduated with first class honors. I didn’t even get honors. The guys who pick MTs for the program would bin my application. So I applied for and after 2 months  of interviewing got the job as an “experienced hire” instead. It paid about 60% better, Praise the Lord.)

My companion expressed surprise I didn’t change my test answers.

Did anyone at all find it funny this was a bank’s ethics test?

Levitt & Dubner’s Freakonomics narrates how President Bush’s 2002 No Child Left Behind which mandated high-stakes testing of students increased the incentives of teachers to help students cheat, rather than necessarily increased the incentives of students to study, like its advocates hoped it would.

According to the book, California high-stakes testing at one point introduced bonuses of USD 25,000 for teachers who produced big test-score gains. Have a class/ school that does badly, on the other hand, and raises/ promotions or federal funding could be withheld.

Somehow I have this idea it wasn’t so much the carrots but the sticks that would motivate these teachers to cheat. Even some of the public schools in Malaysia my mother taught in are no walk in the park – and you don’t have metal detectors like some of the public schools in the States. It would be hard enough motivating some of these people to go to school every day with kids that might be positively feral – and now they have to produce results based on some multiple choice test, or risk losing federal funding to boot

Then there’s the parents in Hong Kong who fake the school reports their kids get when they apply for some of the top schools. Even when their kids weren’t doing that badly to begin with. What I’d really like to know is what these parents tell their kids when they’re doing that.

I remember a dad I knew through work, whose daughter had recently scored a first from Oxford (in Law, I think). He told me his wife emailed her some article about the merits of erm, more “honorable” behavior, and the daughter replied, “I have no morals. Only goals.”

So here I go again about “ultra-competitiveness.” I don’t think systems that promote this necessarily create better students. But I believe they can make worse people. And they’re just starting younger and younger these days.

It’s like a roundabout way of rewarding “less-than-noble-behavior.” (And yes, I use the same argument for stuff like Enron. As long as it pays better to be a crook than a regulator, you will get first class crooks and second class regulators.)

Then opponents of high-stakes testing raised that test orientation might be to the exclusion of other important lessons. I’d like to think they were also talking about the ones that teach you to be a person. The friends I kept, whom I treasure – none of them were the ones I hung out with when I was in some of those top classes or courses. And none of em are doing too shabbily in life and career either.

Who would want a “friend” who gave you the wrong chapters to study anyway.

[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gp7W6wV-obs]

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