This week I read a book which really opened my eye to a few things. The book is called Learning Outside the Lines (Simon & Schuster). It is written by two people who were deemed “academic failures” who then went on to conquer their own Everest, to graduate at the top of their class in an Ivy League college.
Jonathan Mooney is a dyslexic student who only learnt how to read when he was 12. David Cole has ADHD and at 15 dropped out of high school. Cole went on to graduate with Honours in visual arts while Mooney was recipient of the distinguished Truman Fellowship.
After reading this book, I vowed not to be beholden by external markers of success for my child. Asian parents measure their children’s success by how high their exam marks show. Education, to us, is the hallmark of having beaten the system, and having thrived. Limited as this measure is, we have always relied on this as a measure of our parenting and personal victory. It is not, and it cannot be allowed to be.
Mooney and Cole made a strong case for every college student saving himself/or herself from the "institution". This is especially so for those students with learning disorders or disabilities. According to them, while we encourage our children to pursue college, or education (which puts them onto a professional track) most parents do not encourage their children to look inward to define “who we are or what we want, or chart an individualized path. Success often becomes external, in markers like the GPA (grade point average), internships, and the networking we do.”
I had friends who used to be smacked by their parents if they came home with anything “red” in their report cards. My parents were less draconian but I still got a major telling off if I came home with a red mark. (I think I only did once.) In the Asian context, getting smacked for not reaching your parent’s expectation is normal. A good report card is equivalent to upholding your family’s honour. Failing in school is synonymous with failing in life. Hence the intense focus on education excellence. Education is the passport to professionalism.
I have come across friends with kids diagnosed with ADHD, or kids who are slow to read or kids who can’t add or learn basic facts. How best to help these kids who will face the sanction of their teachers (because he won’t sit still or is disrupting the class”)? How best to help someone whose brain can’t collect information and regurgitate them like what the school system demands?
Learning Outside the Lines challenges the limited definition of intelligence heaped upon us by our education system. So if your child’s teacher gives him/her a below average mark for writing, or if you child gets a 10 out of 50 for math – do not despair. The book encourages us to look within ourselves to define “success” as an individual. “Screw the goldstars” (report cards) and “template identities”, the authors tell us. Instead focus on helping the kid excel at his personal goals.
Be compassionate, not 100% in math
As a parent, I think, I too have been consumed by external markers, worrying about spelling test scores and math groups in school. I think it will take me a while to shake off being bound by external markers of success. It is a hard process, to deprogramme something so deeply embedded. But try I must. I remember writing in one of Princess’ goals for a school term “to be compassionate” to her classmates and “enjoy learning”. I should have more of those rather than the more mundane goals of “achieving 100% accuracy in punctuation” or “master long division”.
Remember, we can waste too much time thinking that there is only one way to learn “in the classroom”. True learning is more powerful than that, “it cannot and should not ever be held prisoner by the classroom.”
Edward Hallowell (MD) wrote in his foreward of the book: “For centuries, the word stupid, combined with various intensifiers like bad, lazy, willful, or weak has been used to create a moral “diagnosis”. That moral diagnosis has ruined millions of lives. Now thanks to neuroscience, we are starting to make the medical diagnosis. We are starting to help unusual learners tap into their unusual talents. We are starting to realise how complex learning is, how destructive the concept of stupid has been, and how glorious getting the most out of a mind can be.”
Friday, March 6, 2009
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
It is all about hardwork - of wizards and geniuses
Early this week, round about 7.30, Princess told me to watch this feature on Breakfast (TV One). It was about New Zealand’s most brainy kid – a 16 year old King’s College boy called Stephen Mackereth. The reason Princess was yelling for me was she had tuned in to a conversation I was having with a friend at dinner about this same boy and thought I shouldn’t miss the item. This Stephen boy topped the world in 4 out of the 6 Cambridge papers he sat, my friend told me. He was the Australasian champion for the Brain Bee competition and is a consummate debater (in Spanish) (I found this info from the web, incidentally). While reading up about neuroscience or the mystic workings of the brain, he also laps up on Ancient Greek during his spare time. What is it that makes him tick? His television interview doesn’t really shed much light. He seems like a nice kid.
Check out TV One's Breakfast interview with Stephen Mackereth
I have a confession – I am a sucker for watching boy wonders (champions in spelling or math and the likes). I spend hours watching You Tube clips of piano protégés. It fascinates me how children or young people have the capacity to coax their brains to do so much while my own brain is so static. The brain is a wonderful machine. Use it or lose it is the prognosis. I plan to do word puzzles to keep my brain going when I go older, or will it be too late then?
So back to talent. Lately, New Yorker journalist Malcom Gladwell (of Tipping Point fame) came up with a book on success – Outliers: The Story of Success. His point was although we love to think about genius or raw talent as key to success, the reality is successful people have been presented with great opportunities to do what they love in the first place. I have read in several places that it takes 10,000 hours of practice to make a world class violinist. Gladwell reiterates this 10,000 hour-analogy. I haven’t read Gladwell’s book but a report in the Listener it sums up this way: It takes more than pure talent to succeed; it is better to give your kids more to do, more experiences, than to cushion them from hardwork. So if you are a mom ferrying your child to piano, to tennis, to math tuition, to drama, to dancing, to rugby, to cricket – you are on the right track. And if I heard all the child protégés correctly when they were interviewed, it tells the same story – they practice and practice and practice, some do three or four hours, others do six!
I keep parroting these words to Princess: “It is all about effort.” Some day, I hope she will remember talent is not everything, hard work is.
So Stephen, I think is a damn hardworking kid, to his credit. He also has inherent intelligence, curiosity and an infinite passion to learn – I think that is his key.
In schools, do they teach our kids in a way that unleashes their curiosity? Do they give kids the freedom to explore, to seek, to challenge? Or do the kids sit restless listening to the teacher drone on about this or that? This week, Princess has a topic to write on. No prizes for guessing. It has something to do with a dead boy king, some believe bludgeoned to death by a rival.
Check out TV One's Breakfast interview with Stephen Mackereth
I have a confession – I am a sucker for watching boy wonders (champions in spelling or math and the likes). I spend hours watching You Tube clips of piano protégés. It fascinates me how children or young people have the capacity to coax their brains to do so much while my own brain is so static. The brain is a wonderful machine. Use it or lose it is the prognosis. I plan to do word puzzles to keep my brain going when I go older, or will it be too late then?
So back to talent. Lately, New Yorker journalist Malcom Gladwell (of Tipping Point fame) came up with a book on success – Outliers: The Story of Success. His point was although we love to think about genius or raw talent as key to success, the reality is successful people have been presented with great opportunities to do what they love in the first place. I have read in several places that it takes 10,000 hours of practice to make a world class violinist. Gladwell reiterates this 10,000 hour-analogy. I haven’t read Gladwell’s book but a report in the Listener it sums up this way: It takes more than pure talent to succeed; it is better to give your kids more to do, more experiences, than to cushion them from hardwork. So if you are a mom ferrying your child to piano, to tennis, to math tuition, to drama, to dancing, to rugby, to cricket – you are on the right track. And if I heard all the child protégés correctly when they were interviewed, it tells the same story – they practice and practice and practice, some do three or four hours, others do six!
I keep parroting these words to Princess: “It is all about effort.” Some day, I hope she will remember talent is not everything, hard work is.
So Stephen, I think is a damn hardworking kid, to his credit. He also has inherent intelligence, curiosity and an infinite passion to learn – I think that is his key.
In schools, do they teach our kids in a way that unleashes their curiosity? Do they give kids the freedom to explore, to seek, to challenge? Or do the kids sit restless listening to the teacher drone on about this or that? This week, Princess has a topic to write on. No prizes for guessing. It has something to do with a dead boy king, some believe bludgeoned to death by a rival.
Monday, February 2, 2009
Camping at Tauranga Bay
I now know why I like camping so much. It has to do with not having to do housework! You see, on the campsite, you can cook outside your tent, eat outside or spill food all over, it doesn't matter.
I also lap up the luxury on not having to make beds, not having to do multiple loads of washing and no vacuuming. Clothes dry outside the tent on makeshift clothes line. If the clothes stink a bit, I don’t care. No one seems worried about being too clean.
At the camp ground, humans display their wide array of behaviour. Some tents are more tidy than others. Some people camp with their fridges and freezers. Some people have super duper tents, others have basic units. Some have fancy camper vans, others gargantuan mobile homes. Out on the campsite, my only worry is that the mossies or bugs don’t build their metropolis next to my bed inside the tent.
The OZtrail tent we bought did a splendid job of keeping us comfortable. Princess and I had one mattress to share. Hubby had another of his own. We read at night under our LED lights. Princess and the vampire Edward. Me and a man I once know and admired so much, a book about a true Malay gentleman. Hubby and a book he didn’t really enjoy.
Princess spent most of her days at the beach with her friends Imogen and Brittany, jumping waves and squealing a lot. I spent most of my days under the gazebo, reading, reading -- coffee -- reading-- pure bliss. Hubby spent most of his day in the sea in his kayak, or with his friend Marcus, hoping to catch more scallops, more snapper and more crayfish.
Out on the campsite at night, there is such amazing brightness with the moon in full attendance. The stars dress up the night sky in a dazzling veil of diamonds. All is quiet except the ‘trudge trudge trudge’ of my jandals as I make my way to the communal ablutions block.
Out on the campsite, at dawn, the sea sparkles in a brilliant bluish, greenish hue. The waves whisper hopes of a brave new day; a new beginning. The repetitive waves mirror the mundaness of life, but in each mundane movement, nothing ever stays the same. Everything changes - become relevant or irrelevant. You can't hurry the sea as it shifts its tides.
Out on the campsite, at dusk, the sky drips golden, magenta and almost lavender – a portrait of nature so beautiful your heart needs to skip a beat. Ah, this is the beauty of camping, you take the time not the miss this beautiful life.
Sunday, December 21, 2008
Christmas 2008 - Celebrating friendships
Christmas Letter 2008
Greetings! What a year 2008 has been. I just spent an evening with great friends for a year-end party. Times like this remind me of all the great friendships I have formed over the years. Thanks for being friends with us! As always, we remain humbled by all your generosity, kindness and compassion.
This year caught us by surprise. Julia fell ill around April and was in Starship Hospital for 8 weeks due to a narrowing in her bile ducts. She also had unexplainable leg pains and had a series of investigations ending with a bone biopsy. So imagine crutches, moonboots for a period. She later had a minor fracture (had a cast for a month) on her arm from gymnastics and was out of action for a while.
Picking up
Despite all the physical barriers, she didn’t let her illness or physical limitations get to her. She is good at picking up where she left things – and returns to school as if she hasn’t left. She came back from a long hospital stay to win 1st place in the 100m and 200m sprints in her schools athletics’ day for Year 5 girls. She surprises Tony and me with her tenacity and rapacious hunger to thrive. She outdid a few boys in her swimming class and moved up a group! Next year, she continues her gymnastics, her ballroom dancing, her swimming and Mandarin lessons. We are pleased with her achievements in school as she has had an excellent year with a very good school report.
Transplant lunch
In the first quarter of this year, Steve Munn (her surgeon) and the Liver Transplant unit coordinator Margaret asked if Julia could read her poems at the 10th anniversary of the New Zealand Transplant Unit of Auckland Hospital. Initially Julia was reluctant. After a bit of pep talk by her principal Ms Adamson, she caved in! Talk about armtwisting by mom/dad! She read at the luncheon and at the formal dinner. Dr Munn stood by her as she read "Orange" and "The Writer of this Poem" (both written when she was in year 4 in school). She surprised me with her composure and poise, and how well she carried herself in an audience on very serious business. These were all a bunch of professionals belonging to the arcane world of liver magic.
Here is a sample of her poem which she read.
The writer of this poem
The writer of this poem is as chatty as a cheetah,
Bouncy as a flea,
Flexible as a snake,
All these things make the writer of this poem sound fake!
The writer of this poem is as tall as the door,
But not as small as the floor,
Is wide as a baby tree,
But not as round as a bee.
The writer of this poem is as imaginative as vivid,
Is as permanent as immortal,
Is as kind as a friend,
Is as soft as a rose petal!
Playhouse
Julia was also lucky to get her wish granted by from the Make-A-Wish Foundation. She now has her own “house” (a playhouse) in our little yard. She plans to move out real soon except she is petrified of the bugs that tend to visit from time to time. She hangs out in the playhouse with her girlfriends. The walls are already covered with Jonas Brothers posters!
Tony moves on
Tony had a watershed year, moving on from APV (which he has been for over 19 years on and off either fulltime or as a contractor) to GEA, doing the same thing. He is learning the ropes in a new environment and is ready for new challenges! His collection of Big Boys toys continues to grow – a fishing kayak, fishing gear, a trailer and other things I don’t even get to hear about in detail, that gets hidden in the garage. We also added a new fancy tent and quite a few other accessories to the garage which incidentally seems to be getting smaller by the day. And oh, a stainless steel BBQ to make a Kiwi home complete!
Anna
The not-so-good news this year was Anna (Tony’s sister) being diagnosed with brain tumour. Anna fights on, in an indomitable way. We are awed by her approach and how she copes with all the chemos and countless visits to hospital. She continues to be Julia’s "Aunty Unu" and they provide great company for each other - both feisty and not to be messed about with.
Freelancing
It has been over two years since I left fulltime work. I am still freelancing and am enjoying the freedom. Tony thinks I should get a real job. I think I have a real good deal!
This year, I learnt to knit from my dear friend Sally. My two favourite books this year have to be -- Three Cups of Tea – about the work of Greg Mortenson, who built schools for Afghanistan kids high up in the mountains - and Journey of A Thousand Miles – life story of Chinese pianist Lang Lang. Julia asked me to read a book she fell in love with -- The Power of One -- so I am reading it at the moment and enjoying it too! Julia and I also went through Cleopatra and Boudica -- both romanticised versions of the historial personalities.
I also managed to get rid of a lot of things in my bid to clear clutter. The Woolfs and the Cheahs (and some other families) went camping in Jan08 at Treasure Island, and we fell in love with the concept of waking up late and not having to do housework. Julia continued to be so well looked after by her two older and extremely awesome friends Chelsea and Daryl that we plan to have the Cheahs camp with us sometime soon!
I continue to seek the inspiration of our resident monks and nuns at Dorje Chang (a Tibetan Buddhist Centre which Julia and I) - they show us how to live with compassion and how to cherish others above ourselves.
Oldies
Mom and dad came for a visit in April. So did my aunty and her family! It was awesome having so much fun! Imagine a bunch of 50-something year old ladies learning dance steps from Julia; competing on sports virtually on the PlayStation. The laugher resonated through our house which continues to be filled with loads of great energy from great people we love! Tony was a away so he didn’t mind the noise.
Thanks again!
To all our friends who came to the hospital bearing their prayers, kindness, comfort, food, toys, games and books – thank you as always! To those who are far away but continue to send their prayers and wishes for health and pray for Julia – thanks from the bottom of our heart.
Here’s a wish for your health and happiness in this and all lifetimes! Have a great 2009!
Love: From the Woolfs
Greetings! What a year 2008 has been. I just spent an evening with great friends for a year-end party. Times like this remind me of all the great friendships I have formed over the years. Thanks for being friends with us! As always, we remain humbled by all your generosity, kindness and compassion.
This year caught us by surprise. Julia fell ill around April and was in Starship Hospital for 8 weeks due to a narrowing in her bile ducts. She also had unexplainable leg pains and had a series of investigations ending with a bone biopsy. So imagine crutches, moonboots for a period. She later had a minor fracture (had a cast for a month) on her arm from gymnastics and was out of action for a while.
Picking up
Despite all the physical barriers, she didn’t let her illness or physical limitations get to her. She is good at picking up where she left things – and returns to school as if she hasn’t left. She came back from a long hospital stay to win 1st place in the 100m and 200m sprints in her schools athletics’ day for Year 5 girls. She surprises Tony and me with her tenacity and rapacious hunger to thrive. She outdid a few boys in her swimming class and moved up a group! Next year, she continues her gymnastics, her ballroom dancing, her swimming and Mandarin lessons. We are pleased with her achievements in school as she has had an excellent year with a very good school report.
Transplant lunch
In the first quarter of this year, Steve Munn (her surgeon) and the Liver Transplant unit coordinator Margaret asked if Julia could read her poems at the 10th anniversary of the New Zealand Transplant Unit of Auckland Hospital. Initially Julia was reluctant. After a bit of pep talk by her principal Ms Adamson, she caved in! Talk about armtwisting by mom/dad! She read at the luncheon and at the formal dinner. Dr Munn stood by her as she read "Orange" and "The Writer of this Poem" (both written when she was in year 4 in school). She surprised me with her composure and poise, and how well she carried herself in an audience on very serious business. These were all a bunch of professionals belonging to the arcane world of liver magic.
Here is a sample of her poem which she read.
The writer of this poem
The writer of this poem is as chatty as a cheetah,
Bouncy as a flea,
Flexible as a snake,
All these things make the writer of this poem sound fake!
The writer of this poem is as tall as the door,
But not as small as the floor,
Is wide as a baby tree,
But not as round as a bee.
The writer of this poem is as imaginative as vivid,
Is as permanent as immortal,
Is as kind as a friend,
Is as soft as a rose petal!
Playhouse
Julia was also lucky to get her wish granted by from the Make-A-Wish Foundation. She now has her own “house” (a playhouse) in our little yard. She plans to move out real soon except she is petrified of the bugs that tend to visit from time to time. She hangs out in the playhouse with her girlfriends. The walls are already covered with Jonas Brothers posters!
Tony moves on
Tony had a watershed year, moving on from APV (which he has been for over 19 years on and off either fulltime or as a contractor) to GEA, doing the same thing. He is learning the ropes in a new environment and is ready for new challenges! His collection of Big Boys toys continues to grow – a fishing kayak, fishing gear, a trailer and other things I don’t even get to hear about in detail, that gets hidden in the garage. We also added a new fancy tent and quite a few other accessories to the garage which incidentally seems to be getting smaller by the day. And oh, a stainless steel BBQ to make a Kiwi home complete!
Anna
The not-so-good news this year was Anna (Tony’s sister) being diagnosed with brain tumour. Anna fights on, in an indomitable way. We are awed by her approach and how she copes with all the chemos and countless visits to hospital. She continues to be Julia’s "Aunty Unu" and they provide great company for each other - both feisty and not to be messed about with.
Freelancing
It has been over two years since I left fulltime work. I am still freelancing and am enjoying the freedom. Tony thinks I should get a real job. I think I have a real good deal!
This year, I learnt to knit from my dear friend Sally. My two favourite books this year have to be -- Three Cups of Tea – about the work of Greg Mortenson, who built schools for Afghanistan kids high up in the mountains - and Journey of A Thousand Miles – life story of Chinese pianist Lang Lang. Julia asked me to read a book she fell in love with -- The Power of One -- so I am reading it at the moment and enjoying it too! Julia and I also went through Cleopatra and Boudica -- both romanticised versions of the historial personalities.
I also managed to get rid of a lot of things in my bid to clear clutter. The Woolfs and the Cheahs (and some other families) went camping in Jan08 at Treasure Island, and we fell in love with the concept of waking up late and not having to do housework. Julia continued to be so well looked after by her two older and extremely awesome friends Chelsea and Daryl that we plan to have the Cheahs camp with us sometime soon!
I continue to seek the inspiration of our resident monks and nuns at Dorje Chang (a Tibetan Buddhist Centre which Julia and I) - they show us how to live with compassion and how to cherish others above ourselves.
Oldies
Mom and dad came for a visit in April. So did my aunty and her family! It was awesome having so much fun! Imagine a bunch of 50-something year old ladies learning dance steps from Julia; competing on sports virtually on the PlayStation. The laugher resonated through our house which continues to be filled with loads of great energy from great people we love! Tony was a away so he didn’t mind the noise.
Thanks again!
To all our friends who came to the hospital bearing their prayers, kindness, comfort, food, toys, games and books – thank you as always! To those who are far away but continue to send their prayers and wishes for health and pray for Julia – thanks from the bottom of our heart.
Here’s a wish for your health and happiness in this and all lifetimes! Have a great 2009!
Love: From the Woolfs
Thursday, December 11, 2008
Joyous effort, joyous season
This is the season to be silly. We eat too much and spend too much. Last week, a bunch of us got together to celebrate the end of the year in the spirit of merry-making.
There were a few things that stood out in this gathering – the amazing food, the friendship and camaraderie. But our kids -- they stood out in particular because they did us proud with their achievements.
Remember, we are a bunch of sometimes pushy moms who stand behind our kids and make them do what our moms made us do – our homework, our practice, whatever it might have been. We Asian moms carry inherent DNA in us that forges our survival. We carry this survival kit, everyday, every moment, seldom easy if we let go.
I was particularly awestruck by 2 kids in our group who made a choice last year to apply to get into architecture school at university. That was plan A. These 2 girls had no plan B, their parents told me. They were so confident of making it. They did. And this week, watching those 2 girls again – made me realise their true prowess. These 2 young adults played the piano for us – they sounded discordant because they didn’t have their own music. But they obliged us. What they lack for in prepared-ness, they made up for in gung-ho-ness. I have no doubt they can play the piano. After a few songs, they told me there were a musical duo to be reckoned with.
Many talent in one bundle
Then we heard another kid (young man) whose parents told me he finished university ahead of time. I know from the past he was a competitive swimmer. He has a formidable upper torso, I am sure. And when we heard him play the piano, I am sure music, studies, sports – they excel within this being at real ease.
One young boy went from having zero Mandarin, to being conversant. I always have admiration for this young man – when he was in college, he came to tutor Princess of the House. He has a great gentleness and patience about him. My admiration for him grew when he started speaking to my parents in Mandarin (from having no Mandarin a few years ago). Oh, then he also grew in stature because he also likes Orson Scott-Card who is my all-time favourite author. He sang us a Chinese song. I think he lost his tune because I know this song. But he earned my respect for taking on a difficult language and becoming so good at it. His mom has raised a fine young man.
Juggling
Our hostess’ teenage son played Pachelbel’s Canon on the piano – heavenly enough to bring angels down to earth. He also entertained us on his diabolo (a juggling contraption) which made me certain he is a man with many hidden talents. I am also convinced the juggling takes real concentration and effort. He was gentleman enough to play down to Princess’ level at table tennis – very awesome.
Other parents in our crowd have similarly outstanding children who were not there. My Princess was game enough to do 2 pieces on the piano. I noticed her mistakes with Shubert's Moment Musical but then I am used to Vladimir Horowitz’s rendition of the same piece on YouTube. Yet, she did well with Rihanna’s Take a Bow. I am particularly awestruck by Princess because she missed 8 weeks of school, had many surgical procedures and never let that stop her from picking up and continuing as if life was normal.
Behind every success is effort
We Asian parents celebrate our success through our kids. And this is despite all of us being successful people in our own areas of work. A few of us hold full-time jobs, others part-time. We are different in how we lead our lives from our mothers who were mostly stay-at-home moms. But we are no different from our stay-at-home moms who pushed us beyond our limits.
Comfort zone is a dirty word. I think we parents push our kids beyond their comfort zones so they can rise above the ordinary. I don’t mind ordinary people. But it bugs me when Princess skips over the effort bit. Children can do extraordinary things -- with effort. Effort lends itself to success. One of the 6 perfections which the Buddha taught his followers was joyous effort. The other perfections are generosity, patience, concentration, ethics, wisdom – I forget in which order. How wise to master all 6.
So, here’s a celebration of our kids – who do have been practicing effort, concentration and patience (if not wisdom and ethics or generosity). And here’s a celebration of moms and dads who stood behind these great children, ever loyal and faithful, every step of the way.
There were a few things that stood out in this gathering – the amazing food, the friendship and camaraderie. But our kids -- they stood out in particular because they did us proud with their achievements.
Remember, we are a bunch of sometimes pushy moms who stand behind our kids and make them do what our moms made us do – our homework, our practice, whatever it might have been. We Asian moms carry inherent DNA in us that forges our survival. We carry this survival kit, everyday, every moment, seldom easy if we let go.
I was particularly awestruck by 2 kids in our group who made a choice last year to apply to get into architecture school at university. That was plan A. These 2 girls had no plan B, their parents told me. They were so confident of making it. They did. And this week, watching those 2 girls again – made me realise their true prowess. These 2 young adults played the piano for us – they sounded discordant because they didn’t have their own music. But they obliged us. What they lack for in prepared-ness, they made up for in gung-ho-ness. I have no doubt they can play the piano. After a few songs, they told me there were a musical duo to be reckoned with.
Many talent in one bundle
Then we heard another kid (young man) whose parents told me he finished university ahead of time. I know from the past he was a competitive swimmer. He has a formidable upper torso, I am sure. And when we heard him play the piano, I am sure music, studies, sports – they excel within this being at real ease.
One young boy went from having zero Mandarin, to being conversant. I always have admiration for this young man – when he was in college, he came to tutor Princess of the House. He has a great gentleness and patience about him. My admiration for him grew when he started speaking to my parents in Mandarin (from having no Mandarin a few years ago). Oh, then he also grew in stature because he also likes Orson Scott-Card who is my all-time favourite author. He sang us a Chinese song. I think he lost his tune because I know this song. But he earned my respect for taking on a difficult language and becoming so good at it. His mom has raised a fine young man.
Juggling
Our hostess’ teenage son played Pachelbel’s Canon on the piano – heavenly enough to bring angels down to earth. He also entertained us on his diabolo (a juggling contraption) which made me certain he is a man with many hidden talents. I am also convinced the juggling takes real concentration and effort. He was gentleman enough to play down to Princess’ level at table tennis – very awesome.
Other parents in our crowd have similarly outstanding children who were not there. My Princess was game enough to do 2 pieces on the piano. I noticed her mistakes with Shubert's Moment Musical but then I am used to Vladimir Horowitz’s rendition of the same piece on YouTube. Yet, she did well with Rihanna’s Take a Bow. I am particularly awestruck by Princess because she missed 8 weeks of school, had many surgical procedures and never let that stop her from picking up and continuing as if life was normal.
Behind every success is effort
We Asian parents celebrate our success through our kids. And this is despite all of us being successful people in our own areas of work. A few of us hold full-time jobs, others part-time. We are different in how we lead our lives from our mothers who were mostly stay-at-home moms. But we are no different from our stay-at-home moms who pushed us beyond our limits.
Comfort zone is a dirty word. I think we parents push our kids beyond their comfort zones so they can rise above the ordinary. I don’t mind ordinary people. But it bugs me when Princess skips over the effort bit. Children can do extraordinary things -- with effort. Effort lends itself to success. One of the 6 perfections which the Buddha taught his followers was joyous effort. The other perfections are generosity, patience, concentration, ethics, wisdom – I forget in which order. How wise to master all 6.
So, here’s a celebration of our kids – who do have been practicing effort, concentration and patience (if not wisdom and ethics or generosity). And here’s a celebration of moms and dads who stood behind these great children, ever loyal and faithful, every step of the way.
Sunday, November 23, 2008
Do go gently into the good night...
My 3rd uncle died a week ago. He was married to my 3rd aunty, or Koo Ma, in Cantonese. To many of us who know of his suffering – being bed -ridden for over 5 years – his dying was the best way to ease his pain.
My poor 3rd aunty has had to care for him all these years. There wasn’t much anyone could do. Intermittently, 3rd uncle was moved to-and-from a hospital, in-and-out of an old folks’ home. We all marvel at the tenacity of my 3rd aunty, who skinny as bones, still lifted her husband and cared for him – loyal to the end. I haven’t seen 3rd uncle for years and years. But his death saddens me.
Third uncle always calls me “Honey”, my nickname growing up in Malaysia. Honey, after the colour of my tanned complexion. Third uncle was an electrician by vocation. He was our handyman. When something needed fixing that has to do with volts and watts, it was always 3rd uncle’s domain. My memories of him were also those of a smiley, happy man. 3rd Uncle loves to make pineapple tarts for Chinese New Year.
My conversations with him were always superficial – like all conversations with our elders once upon a time. I remember him, always tinkering about, doing home stuff. I remember him, the handyman who tended over his garden which used to be filled with thriving greens that seemed to thrive in the most inhospitable places in his home. I remember him coming to the metal grilled door of his home, unlocking it, always with a kind welcome. And most of all, I remember him always, in his old motorbike, putt-putting away around the neighbourhood.
So, I here was I, thousands of kilometers away, unable to say goodbye. I could only dedicate prayers to him from here and think of his death as a timely release of the immense suffering he had to endure for so long.
Taboo no more
In my phone calls with mom the past 2 weeks, we talked about 3rd uncle’s death and the burial afterwards. Years ago, this would have been taboo – to talk about one’s death, was a no-no. It was like inviting death to your door. But mom has moved on, I suspect. So, we talked about death and dying.
Mom tells me, she told me she doesn’t want the spectacular funeral processions the Chinese have – those filled with mourners parading on the command of the Taoist monks banging cymbals and gongs, leading the dead across 18 levels of hell. I agree. Mom says her greatest fear is that all the other aunties in the clan would not agree as Taoist burials were what the family is used to. Mom wants Buddhist nuns/monks chanting peaceful Buddhist mantras. I told mom I like the idea. I said this thinking how wonderful it would be if we knew exactly how to prepare for our dying.
Coming out charred at the other end
Once, mom and I laughed about how one of my aunts fear cremation. This aunty had visions of herself coming out at the other end of the world, charred and burnt. I told her how some cultures chopped up their dead and leave them uncovered. We both agreed cremation was nice and easy.
Death and dying – how does one approach this in the most sensible way? Dylan Thomas’ lines from his poem rings loud and clear – “Do not go gently into the goodnight….rage, rage against the dying of the light.” For me, I think, when I go, I will go gently…into the good night…and accept the moment.
Lately mom has been told of an investment scheme to buy a funeral plot. The scheme is expensive, she says. But a relative of ours told her the said-funeral plot will have sculpted gardens and all the bells and whistles that make funeral plots amazing – attempts at bringing a piece of heaven to earth, I think. But this is still nothing compared to the Eqyptians, and how they bury their dead.
“Ah,” I said to mom, “better not to get involved in these dodgy schemes to invest in funeral plots.” I even suggested I could put her ashes in a vase, and bring the vase hoe to New Zealand with me. I think she wasn’t too keen.
Gentle exit
At least mom and I have come to some sort of an understanding about how she wants her “exit” from this earth done. I say to her, “remember, when you go, don’t look back at us, your life would be done, let go of everything in this earth…..go gently”
What do I know about dying? I haven’t been there. But I subscribe to this belief system – that “be here now” matters. Death is the culmination of years of living. It is better practicing living a peaceful life. In the end, we become our practice. If we practice hate, impatience, envy, jealousy, anger – we become those things. If we practice compassion, loving kindness, patience, generosity, wisdom and humility – we become those things.
Mom reminds me again, at one point of our conversation this week, the secret to being happy is to remind ourselves of how fortunate we are, so when we do die, we have no unhappiness...This is her daily mantra. I couldn’t agree more.
My poor 3rd aunty has had to care for him all these years. There wasn’t much anyone could do. Intermittently, 3rd uncle was moved to-and-from a hospital, in-and-out of an old folks’ home. We all marvel at the tenacity of my 3rd aunty, who skinny as bones, still lifted her husband and cared for him – loyal to the end. I haven’t seen 3rd uncle for years and years. But his death saddens me.
Third uncle always calls me “Honey”, my nickname growing up in Malaysia. Honey, after the colour of my tanned complexion. Third uncle was an electrician by vocation. He was our handyman. When something needed fixing that has to do with volts and watts, it was always 3rd uncle’s domain. My memories of him were also those of a smiley, happy man. 3rd Uncle loves to make pineapple tarts for Chinese New Year.
My conversations with him were always superficial – like all conversations with our elders once upon a time. I remember him, always tinkering about, doing home stuff. I remember him, the handyman who tended over his garden which used to be filled with thriving greens that seemed to thrive in the most inhospitable places in his home. I remember him coming to the metal grilled door of his home, unlocking it, always with a kind welcome. And most of all, I remember him always, in his old motorbike, putt-putting away around the neighbourhood.
So, I here was I, thousands of kilometers away, unable to say goodbye. I could only dedicate prayers to him from here and think of his death as a timely release of the immense suffering he had to endure for so long.
Taboo no more
In my phone calls with mom the past 2 weeks, we talked about 3rd uncle’s death and the burial afterwards. Years ago, this would have been taboo – to talk about one’s death, was a no-no. It was like inviting death to your door. But mom has moved on, I suspect. So, we talked about death and dying.
Mom tells me, she told me she doesn’t want the spectacular funeral processions the Chinese have – those filled with mourners parading on the command of the Taoist monks banging cymbals and gongs, leading the dead across 18 levels of hell. I agree. Mom says her greatest fear is that all the other aunties in the clan would not agree as Taoist burials were what the family is used to. Mom wants Buddhist nuns/monks chanting peaceful Buddhist mantras. I told mom I like the idea. I said this thinking how wonderful it would be if we knew exactly how to prepare for our dying.
Coming out charred at the other end
Once, mom and I laughed about how one of my aunts fear cremation. This aunty had visions of herself coming out at the other end of the world, charred and burnt. I told her how some cultures chopped up their dead and leave them uncovered. We both agreed cremation was nice and easy.
Death and dying – how does one approach this in the most sensible way? Dylan Thomas’ lines from his poem rings loud and clear – “Do not go gently into the goodnight….rage, rage against the dying of the light.” For me, I think, when I go, I will go gently…into the good night…and accept the moment.
Lately mom has been told of an investment scheme to buy a funeral plot. The scheme is expensive, she says. But a relative of ours told her the said-funeral plot will have sculpted gardens and all the bells and whistles that make funeral plots amazing – attempts at bringing a piece of heaven to earth, I think. But this is still nothing compared to the Eqyptians, and how they bury their dead.
“Ah,” I said to mom, “better not to get involved in these dodgy schemes to invest in funeral plots.” I even suggested I could put her ashes in a vase, and bring the vase hoe to New Zealand with me. I think she wasn’t too keen.
Gentle exit
At least mom and I have come to some sort of an understanding about how she wants her “exit” from this earth done. I say to her, “remember, when you go, don’t look back at us, your life would be done, let go of everything in this earth…..go gently”
What do I know about dying? I haven’t been there. But I subscribe to this belief system – that “be here now” matters. Death is the culmination of years of living. It is better practicing living a peaceful life. In the end, we become our practice. If we practice hate, impatience, envy, jealousy, anger – we become those things. If we practice compassion, loving kindness, patience, generosity, wisdom and humility – we become those things.
Mom reminds me again, at one point of our conversation this week, the secret to being happy is to remind ourselves of how fortunate we are, so when we do die, we have no unhappiness...This is her daily mantra. I couldn’t agree more.
Saturday, November 22, 2008
7 Weird Things About Me
Annie Fox tagged me to list 7 weird things about myself. I haven't actually considered anything about myself to be weird. I am an ordinary person.
But for the fun of it, here goes.
1) I hoard cookbooks though I seldom use recipes.
2) I believe we are not alone in this galaxy.
3) I once fell off a trap-door and was "saved" by a pile of "gold paper" my aunty was going to burn for the dead.
4) I once tried to play circus mistress and nearly set my brother and cousin on fire.
5) I have been buying meal worms to allow them to live longer.
6) I didn't drive a car until I had my daughter.
7) I ring my mom once a week.
I have to tag seven people so here goes; and they have to respond by typing their weird too.
Christina Yin
Serena Soosay
Daphne Chua
Hugh Bucknall
Linda Lau
Travis Field
Janet Ben
Here is Janet's response (well done girl!)
Weird things - well the list could go forever - depending of course on who is writing the list about me....
My number 1 weird things... total hoarder of cookbooks too - the hawker, who comes every fortnight selling books to our office, can retire on what he has made from me purchasing cookbooks - my theory is that they are better than magazines and I will continue to keep them and read them for years to come - but a magazine - well they are so full of rubbish that it is all old news inside a week anyway.....
Weird thing 2 - I have an enormous library of cookbooks - but always make the same recipes - that aren't in the recipe books anyway - but one day - when I have time.....
Weird thing 3.....A fear of the hairdresser - like Lavender Lady my mother considered herself an expert on hair and when I was 11 years old she insisting on cutting short my lovely long, very straight hair. Even she has to admit that it looked dreadful - so dreadful that she rushed up to the local chemist and bought a home perm. So I went from long straight hair to short frizz - and all the children at school laughed..... scared me for life so I am always nervous getting anything done to my hair...
Weird thing 4 - a desire to be tidier - which disappears as soon as I actually have the opportunity to do something about it - constantly plan whilst at work .... when I get home I am going to ..... and when I get home -yep the desire has gone and instead I go outside and garden or take the dog for a walk home.....!!
Weird thing 5.....a desire to have more land - so I can have more trees - which I love - which in turn is more work and who wants that..... there are so many plants that I would love to have....
Weird 6....a wish I could communicate with my parents - my mum died 6 years ago and Dad 3 - and I would give almost anything to have just another day with them both.... moral here - don't put off until tomorrow... those things that you would like to ask your Mum and Dad - we dont' know when our clock of life is going to stop... and even though we knew that both my parents were fading.... there always seemed time 'tomorrow'....
Weird thing 7.... still married to the same man - 44 years...... and against all predictions and parental advice.... - that is not to say that some days.....are not as perfect as others, but in the current culture of not marrying or only staying together a few years - it is definitely a weird thing to still be living with the same man after all this time and to still actually tolerate each others company.....
Actually the weirdest thing is that I don't know how to write on your blog......
Cheers
Janet
Here is Anie Fox's post on weird facts about herself
1) With predictive texting, my name comes up as 'bomb'. Which some of you might say is perfect.
2) I'm related to Lord Nelson and Abraham Lincoln. True.
3) I've played four musical instruments in my life - violin, piano, bassoon and of course the recorder. Piano is my favourite, bassoon the most fun. Why I stopped playing them all is one of my regrets.
4) I used to be a lefty loser. I recovered from this socialist cancer, but it stuffed my immune system so now I can't overcome Non-Hodgkin's :o).
5) I own a house with a woman - but I’m not a lesbian (I know you all wonder). This is an increasing trend amongst those who don't want to live miles out of town, but can't afford a decent home, in a decent location by themselves. Now this definitely doesn't suit everyone, but Em & I are naturally brilliant - the key is keeping the money issues straight and keeping the palace clean and ordered.
6) My favourite album is the ‘Stranglers Collection 1977-1982.’
7) I hate, hate, hate, hate the colour purple. And I’m not too big on whistles either. And a bonus fact I'm a trader, an objectivist and a libertarian. Which means I make my own money, and I like to keep it.
But for the fun of it, here goes.
1) I hoard cookbooks though I seldom use recipes.
2) I believe we are not alone in this galaxy.
3) I once fell off a trap-door and was "saved" by a pile of "gold paper" my aunty was going to burn for the dead.
4) I once tried to play circus mistress and nearly set my brother and cousin on fire.
5) I have been buying meal worms to allow them to live longer.
6) I didn't drive a car until I had my daughter.
7) I ring my mom once a week.
I have to tag seven people so here goes; and they have to respond by typing their weird too.
Christina Yin
Serena Soosay
Daphne Chua
Hugh Bucknall
Linda Lau
Travis Field
Janet Ben
Here is Janet's response (well done girl!)
Weird things - well the list could go forever - depending of course on who is writing the list about me....
My number 1 weird things... total hoarder of cookbooks too - the hawker, who comes every fortnight selling books to our office, can retire on what he has made from me purchasing cookbooks - my theory is that they are better than magazines and I will continue to keep them and read them for years to come - but a magazine - well they are so full of rubbish that it is all old news inside a week anyway.....
Weird thing 2 - I have an enormous library of cookbooks - but always make the same recipes - that aren't in the recipe books anyway - but one day - when I have time.....
Weird thing 3.....A fear of the hairdresser - like Lavender Lady my mother considered herself an expert on hair and when I was 11 years old she insisting on cutting short my lovely long, very straight hair. Even she has to admit that it looked dreadful - so dreadful that she rushed up to the local chemist and bought a home perm. So I went from long straight hair to short frizz - and all the children at school laughed..... scared me for life so I am always nervous getting anything done to my hair...
Weird thing 4 - a desire to be tidier - which disappears as soon as I actually have the opportunity to do something about it - constantly plan whilst at work .... when I get home I am going to ..... and when I get home -yep the desire has gone and instead I go outside and garden or take the dog for a walk home.....!!
Weird thing 5.....a desire to have more land - so I can have more trees - which I love - which in turn is more work and who wants that..... there are so many plants that I would love to have....
Weird 6....a wish I could communicate with my parents - my mum died 6 years ago and Dad 3 - and I would give almost anything to have just another day with them both.... moral here - don't put off until tomorrow... those things that you would like to ask your Mum and Dad - we dont' know when our clock of life is going to stop... and even though we knew that both my parents were fading.... there always seemed time 'tomorrow'....
Weird thing 7.... still married to the same man - 44 years...... and against all predictions and parental advice.... - that is not to say that some days.....are not as perfect as others, but in the current culture of not marrying or only staying together a few years - it is definitely a weird thing to still be living with the same man after all this time and to still actually tolerate each others company.....
Actually the weirdest thing is that I don't know how to write on your blog......
Cheers
Janet
Here is Anie Fox's post on weird facts about herself
1) With predictive texting, my name comes up as 'bomb'. Which some of you might say is perfect.
2) I'm related to Lord Nelson and Abraham Lincoln. True.
3) I've played four musical instruments in my life - violin, piano, bassoon and of course the recorder. Piano is my favourite, bassoon the most fun. Why I stopped playing them all is one of my regrets.
4) I used to be a lefty loser. I recovered from this socialist cancer, but it stuffed my immune system so now I can't overcome Non-Hodgkin's :o).
5) I own a house with a woman - but I’m not a lesbian (I know you all wonder). This is an increasing trend amongst those who don't want to live miles out of town, but can't afford a decent home, in a decent location by themselves. Now this definitely doesn't suit everyone, but Em & I are naturally brilliant - the key is keeping the money issues straight and keeping the palace clean and ordered.
6) My favourite album is the ‘Stranglers Collection 1977-1982.’
7) I hate, hate, hate, hate the colour purple. And I’m not too big on whistles either. And a bonus fact I'm a trader, an objectivist and a libertarian. Which means I make my own money, and I like to keep it.
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