Learning about others

Admit it, there is a tendency in every one of us to point the finger at someone other than ourselves when something goes wrong. Or when we 'think' that something has gone wrong.

What we define as 'right' and 'wrong' may, and most likely, is not universal. I always remind my students that there is no 'right' and 'wrong', just 'different'. And it is okay to be different.

I found this list of questions for reflection useful. Students work in pairs to ask their partner each of these questions. However, I think that these questions work really well for self reflection, too, to remind ourselves of the things we prioritise and how those priorities came about. By understanding our own beliefs and goals, we learn to take in other people's beliefs and goals, which allows us to accept the diversity that exists in the world. I find it particularly interesting when students try to tease out the reasons behind their similarities and differences.

Maybe you will find these questions helpful, too.

1. Whom should you obey? Why?
2. Who makes decisions (at home, school, community)? Why?
3. How should you behave with others (elders, children, neighbours)? Why?
4. Whom should you respect? How do you show respect? Why?
5. How should you act in public so you bring credit or honour to your family? Why?
6. What does it mean to be successful in life? Why?
7. Whom should you trust? Why?
8. What are the sins of success? Why?
9. What provides 'security' in life? Why?
10. Whom should your friends be? Who decides? Why?
11. Where and the with whom, should you live? Why?
12. Whom should you marry? At about what age? Who decides? Why?
13. What is expected of children when they are young? Why?
14. What should you depend on others for? Why?
15. When should you be self-sufficient, if ever? Why?
16. What should you expose toe others, and what should be kept private? Why?
17. How should you plan for your future? Why?
18. What should be remembered from your heritage? Why?
19. What was better when you were younger or during your parents' youth? Why?
20. What do you wish for your children that you could not have? Why?

Source: Cushner, K. (1998). Human diversity in action (p. 133). Boston: McGraw-Hill.

GE13: 5th May, D-Day

The walk from the bus stand back home last night was extraordinarily chilly. Winter winds are creeping in. Propped the handbag on the table and made a dash for a warm shower before making a mug of comforting hot Milo to consume while Mom updated me on the phone...

We waited in the queue for 1.5 hours. We were in a different saluran. I think we line up according to age because your brother was in a different queue. He had to wait for 2 hours. Miss Tai told us she had to queue for 3 hours. Then in the afternoon, your father and I went out for a drive to you know, '8' a bit la. Went to see the other polling centres. You know the surau near our place? It was very well guarded. I think it would be hard for anyone to get past that wall of people. Even at the secondary school. So many people there to make sure no wai lao would get in. And many of them were young people. It's good.

Turned the lappie on. Had a few tabs open for live updates. Slowly, the results were released. One seat for BN. Then it was three. Then it went up to seven. PR had only one. Then it was three...

Oh my goodness! So kancheong! The last time I felt this kancheong was that nail-biting match between Lee Chong Wei and Lin Dan at the London Olympics. Where is an open air mamak stall with wide screen projector when I need one?!

Had Mel on Skype. Then Xin Wen and Deidre on speaker when they rang the mobile. Should have heard us girls during that virtual gathering.

Are you watching the election results or not? Watch the Astro Awani one, it's faster. Wah, I think my BM has returned to me. I can speak it so fluently again... Aiyo, Chrys, so sad la. I want to fly home and educate my people (in Sarawak) already la. I so sad until I already had four Oreos, you know!

My electronic gadgets buzzed non-stop. WhatsApp continuously notified me of messages from the family group chat, Sonia and Ray (who, bless his soul, was a volunteer). So did Facebook Chat, with messages from Ming Wei. Rotated between WhatsApp, Facebook, Skype and phone call.

Yes, I had work to be handed in but I think the future of my country is more important than my PhD studies this weekend, thank you very much. But I could not stay awake. It was nearly 2:00am and after spending half the day traveling, my eyelids were heavy. 

I woke up to a Facebook wall full of black boxes. Initially, I thought there was a glitch but on closer scrutiny, it was a response to the results from the night before. Admittedly, although it was not a surprise, I felt the heartbreak, too...

以为就此告别了凉意
依然推不翻过去
走不出寂静
白色的脸有黑色的投影 － excerpt of lyrics from 窗外 by Penny Tai 戴佩妮

Many Malaysians were dissatisfied not so much with the results but with how the results were manipulated. From the updates on my Facebook newsfeed (which by the way, has never been as busy as this weekend), the general consensus is that we as Malaysians are ready to continue the battle for a better Malaysia. That we, as the Rakyat and not as me, you, aku, dia, Malay, Chinese, Indian or Others, are prepared to accept this challenge to better inform ourselves, our East Malaysian brothers and sisters, as well as those residing overseas for GE14...

Seia sekata sehati sejiwa, menghadapi cabaran - excerpt of lyrics from Sejahtera Malaysia

My opinions are personal and my opinions are not representative of all Malaysians but there are some of us who believe in fighting this battle. We believe that no one understands the frustrations of Malaysia better than we do because we have lived through it firsthand. And like how I teach my students, when we want something, we have to work for it. Nothing comes for free, not even an eye-catching crisp purple RM100 note lying on the pavement. If you want that RM100 note, you would have to get off your behind, walk towards it, bend down and pick it up to have it.

No one said that it will be an easy task. What is easy in life, anyway? Some say that we are fighting a lost cause but every battle is worth fighting because we believe that Malaysia and her people deserve better and are capable of so much more...

Kami rela menjaga namamu, sejahtera Malaysia - ending lyrics of Sejahtera Malaysia

2013, 5th of May was D-Day for the nation. We now know that Malaysians young and old regardless of background are able to work towards a common cause, to speak up. No resting on our laurels now for we have gained invaluable friends and experience. We have 5 years to educate ourselves, to better ourselves, to be less selfish, to be more Malaysian. And this education starts now for the 1Malaysia that we have in our blood and soul and not one that is used as a marketing tool...

Negaraku, tanah tumpahnya darahku - opening lyrics of Negaraku

GE13: For a better Malaysia

I woke up bright and early on Sunday, when normally, I would sleep in. In fact, I hardly had any sleep due to the excitement. I could not wait for the day trip to Canberra to begin. It was a special trip. In fact, any trip we make to Canberra is special because we were not going to drive for 3 hours to a place as boring as Putrajaya for no good reason. Okay, I admit, not as boring but nearly. At least Canberra is more picturesque.

This particular trip was extra special. This trip may be the one trip that will change our homeland.

I made this trip with a Malaysian family I got to know recently. They very generously offered me a ride down south and it was one joyful ride with Mandarin children's songs playing half the time. Their adorable two-year-old was so well-behaved the whole trip. As we made the turn off Hume Highway onto Barton Highway at Yass, she asked ever so innocently, "Why so long? We there?"

It was like an omen - the transition of lush summer green to red and golden autumn was symbolic of change. Not only did we have fantastic weather that day, we did not face issues with traffic and were greeted by an enthusiastic crowd of fellow postal voters at the High Commission. The sides of the roads were lined with cars, there were children playing happily in the adjacent playground and there were people making new friends. Such a heartwarming sight.

In all honesty, I was expecting a more serious atmosphere. I am new at this, you know, this being my first voting experience. As laughter was heard as we approached the gate of the Malaysian High Commission, I wondered if we were there for the right event.

We were greeted by friendly, smiling faces. Interestingly, almost all personnel on duty were men of Malay ethnicity. Perhaps two or three were women and only one was a Chinese man. We recorded our details in the Visitors Log. The time was 10:30am and I think it was about 70 names before us. Security personnel screened us using a metal detector and had a quick look at the insides of our bags. Even the little one looked up at all these strange uncles, replied them 'Good Morning' and also held her hands up for them to screen. They liked how adorable she was!

A local Aussie personnel checked our ICs, matching the photo on the IC to the cardholder. "Yup, that's definitely you, alright..." before we signed another logbook on the way up to the building where the 'serious business' was taking place. The two Malay pakciks manning this counter asked us where we traveled from to get there and when we asked if there were people from places further than Sydney, their reply was, "Oh yes, some came from Brisbane!" I take my hat off to the Queenslanders. Makes our drive from Sydney seem like nothing compared to your flights from Brisbane. And if you were not on a direct flight to Canberra, you would have had to take a bus or train to Canberra from Sydney, where more flights stop. Respect!

Two entrances to separate voters according to state, I queued behind Kar Meng at the entrance that included the state of Selangor. Wan Fei's entrance did not have a queue so she went straight in. We had to wait for about 10 minutes before we were welcomed in by the two pakciks who checked our names against their list of registered postal voters, searched for our envelopes and crossed our names off the list.

With Very Important Envelope in hand, I waited for my turn to approach the witness table. A very friendly Malay chap, he patiently went through the procedure with me, explaining which forms go into which envelopes and all. Mistake #1: After checking the spelling of my name and my IC number, I immediately initialed the form. My excitement to be voting for my first time clouded my senses so much that I did not even think of reading the form, to find out what I was initialing my life away to. Mistake #2: I did not check that I had the correct ballot papers. Thank goodness I had them, though.

No use of indelible ink, which meant that I did not need to bring the cling wrap, nail polish remover and facial cotton. I brought them in the event that other voters may require them. Oh well...

Very carefully, I retrieved the ballots. I scrutinised every inch of the paper for suspicious marks. I made sure the surface of the table was clean before I drew two big pangkahs, one for each ballot using the Sharpie pen provided. I even fanned and blew the ballot papers so that the ink would not stain other parts of the paper when folded. I think it would be hard to somehow 'move' the pangkah to a different box because the Sharpie ink soaked straight through the paper! You could see that big black pangkah from the back!

Even more careful than when I retrieved the ballots, I attentively matched the right Borang 2 to its Sampul B and enclosed with this Borang 2 is Sampul A containing the matching ballots. A sudden urge to be kiasi had me using the gluestick they provided to glue both envelopes.

Mistake #3: Apparently, we had to drop our envelopes into the diplomatic bag hung on the same side of the room as the entrance we entered. Wan Fei was informed by the witness who attended to her. I, on the other hand, was not told this piece of information, therefore my assumption that either diplomatic bags would be fine. Still, I walked out of the voting hall with a sense of achievement. My first vote - done!

A lady from Jom Balik Undi queried us on the voting process. I thought it went smoothly, in all honesty. My friends concurred. In fact, we were all first-time voters and found the process pretty straightforward (despite the discrepancies mentioned above).

We joined in the festivities on site. Tables and benches were set up for voters to enjoy home-cooked Malay food, just like what we would get at those roadside gerai set up by makciks and pakciks.

I bought a box of nasi ayam for $5 and a box of kuih for $3. Ah, so long since I had authentic Malay food. And the kuih, the lady even ensured me, "Amoi, kuih ni sedap tau. Yang sirap ros ni, dari Malaysia. Nak tak? Yang ni ade jagung, yang ni ade coklat. Mau kotak ni?" Yes, rose syrup kuih. I was totally sold.

During the 3-hour car ride back to Sydney, I took a jog down memory lane. I remember how I partook in the Bersih 2.0 rally here in Sydney in 2011. I remember getting myself registered as a voter at the post office back in KL. I remember praying for friends and family who were at the Bersih 3.0 rally back home. I remember keeping abreast with news regarding voting for Malaysians overseas. I remember understanding and ensuring my eligibility to be a postal voter, downloading, printing, scanning and e-mailing the application form to SPR to register as a postal voter. I remember how every other week I keyed in my IC number into that SPR link to confirm, double confirm, triple confirm that I am a registered voter. I remember the anxious wait for my application to be a postal voter to be accepted. I remember the elated feeling when this flashed before my eyes:

From that first Bersih rally I was part of 2 years ago, look at where we have arrived. In true Malaysia Boleh fashion, we made overseas voting possible. And just like how the seniors of the University of Malaya Yao Lan Shou Music Composing Unit (马大摇篮手音乐创作坊) very aptly put it, perhaps we are at the last hurdle of a better tomorrow...

This is a music video of a song produced, composed and performed by ex-students of the above-mentioned unit. They included lyrics in Mandarin with English translation. Many of the faces you see in this video are Malaysians residing outside of Malaysia, who will be traveling home for the elections.

As we were leaving the High Commission, more people began to arrive. It was a moving sight to see that there were more Malaysians than I thought who are still deeply concerned in executing their Malaysian civil duties.

Like the colour change in the Australian autumn landscape, it is time for a change in the Malaysian political landscape. We owe it to ourselves and our future generations. Do not underestimate the power of one vote, for we do not know what the future holds for us from the ripple effect of one small, seemingly innocent action. 

My respect, prayers and well-wishes go out to all who are heading home for the real deal. Stay safe, stay strong.

To all back home, we have done our part. On 5/5, it will be over to all of you.

For a better Malaysia, let's have our voices heard and votes counted.

We teach who we are

I am glad I dragged myself out of bed early this morning to attend the lecture at 8:00am. Since I told Clare that I would be there, I told myself not to create excuses. And so there I was at the lecture theatre with the other tutors and some fifty-odd students.

This morning, the lecture was presented by a guest lecturer, Dr. William De Jean. And it was one heck of a lecture! If every lecture was as interactive and hyped up as his was, I would attend every single one of them!

The lecture reminded me of some of the lectures that were conducted last year for the same unit. The first questions he asked us to answer were why we were going into teaching and our intentions for doing so. My reply was a slightly selfish one. I am going into teaching (I am teaching) because these is a special feeling of achievement and pride when someone I have taught comes back to say ‘thank you’. I find that such appreciation actually motivates me to be better. So, indirectly, teaching helps me better myself because like what Dr. De Jean kept emphasising throughout his lecture, we teach who we are.

He asked us to read aloud the following questions, which he took out of The Courage to Teach: Exploring the Inner Landscape of a Teacher's Life by Parker J. Palmer, an author, educator, and activist who focuses on issues in education, community, leadership, spirituality and social change:

The question we most commonly as is the “what” question – what subjects shall we teach?

When the conversation goes a bit deeper, we ask the “how” question – what methods and techniques are required to teach well?

Occasionally, when it goes deeper still, we ask the “why” question – for what purpose and to what ends do we teach?

But seldom, if ever, do we ask the “who” question – who is the self that teaches?

He related that back to how we are educated (as opposed to trained) as teachers. We almost always justify our teaching with what is in the best interest of the children. It always is for the children. We almost always not talk about ourselves. What about us? We teach who we are so how can we not place some amount of significance on ourselves?

I liked how he metaphorically referred to our teaching as roadmaps. We have all these directions to follow. We use compasses because we are going places we do not even know. How do we know where we are going with our teaching? Do we know what the creative superminds we are teaching today will create for tomorrow? I think we can only assume that we are laying a foundation for the younger generation. What kind of a foundation will depend on who we are.

Like it or not, our identity is made up not only of who we think we are but also who we think we are not. Dr. De Jean likened it to a beach ball that is being held forcefully underwater. Yes, the beach ball is our shadow and what we suppress will always surface when we are unable to take the pressure any longer. So, what do we truly believe about difference? Do we really treat everyone equally? Do we really know what it feels like to be wearing glasses or to walk with a plastered foot?

What do we truly believe about success? If people work hard, will they really succeed? Does that mean that people who do not succeed are people who are not trying?

What do we truly believe about intelligence? Who do we believe is “smart” and who do we think is not? Who do we believe seems “motivated and who is not? Who do we believe should and should not go to university?

What do we believe about language? What do we laugh at? Why do we say “Hey, guys” when half the crowd is made up of females?

What do we truly believe about gender? How do we believe boys should act? How do we believe girls should act? We get concerned when they do not act the way we think they should.

What do we truly believe or feel when we hear an accent? What are our emotional responses? How is it different if it is French, American, Aboriginal or Spanish? Why do we think that when someone speaks English in a French or Scottish accent sounds beautiful or sexy while a person who speaks English in an Asian accent needs to attend an English speaking course?

How often do we think about our race, gender, sexual orientation, “accent”, nationality, class and language?

How well do we know our selves? Our light, brilliance, gifts, talents, compassion, intuition and healthy boundaries. Our fears, shadows, judgements, hidden belief systems, agendas and grief.

What do we think? What do we feel? To me, I think that there are many challenges in being the teacher we think we can be and I feel that there is a heavy sense of responsibility that comes with it.

Quoting Margaret J. Wheatley (commonly known as Meg Wheatley), a writer and management consultant who studies organisational behaviour with approaches including systems thinking, theories of change, chaos theory, leadership and the learning organisation (particularly its capacity to self-organise),

“The leaders we need are already here.”

If they are already here, our jobs as teachers are to make sure that we make them absolutely fantabulous leaders. Get out our compasses (GPSes?)!

*Unless otherwise hyperlinked, much detail included here were from the lecture slides provided this morning.

Teach For Malaysia

Recently, a group of young men and women have been making headlines. They are the cream of the crop, graduates from elite tertiary institutions like Harvard and Yale. They aim to inspire, lead and make change. Who are they? They are Teach For Malaysia (TFM). TFM is part of the Teach For All Network, which could also be found in the United States, the United Kingdom, Brazil, Peru, Chile, Argentina, Estonia, Latvia, Germany, Spain, Bulgaria, Lebanon, Israel, Pakistan, China, India and Australia.

I attended one of their information sessions here in Sydney and walked away feeling happy because I was introduced to a group of like-minded people, who are passionate about making change through education in Malaysia. And having spent almost all the time of my nearly one decade away from home, I also walked away learning about things I was not aware of.

Did you know that:

• One out of every four students in Standard Four classrooms does not meet targeted numeracy levels?
• Three out of five heads of poor households in Malaysia only have a primary education or less?
• Four out of five working Malaysians are only educated up to SPM level?
• In Chile, 95% of children in the highest income quintile complete secondary school, while only 30% of children in the lowest income quintile complete the same level of education?
• In Australia, students in the lowest income quartile are 2.5 years behind the average in science, reading and math?
• In Lebanon, students in state schools are 29% less likely to attend high school than their private school peers?
• In the United States, half of low-income children do not graduate from high school, and those who do perform on average at an eighth grade level?
• In India, more than one in three children who begin primary school will drop out before reaching fifth grade?
• In China, only 5% of students from poor rural areas go on to higher education compared to the 70% of students from China's major cities?

A child's origin often determines his or her education, and therefore his or her life outcomes (if the person reading this now was in any of my three sociology tutorials last semester, please tell me you have this drilled in your head). However, research has shown that excellent teaching and leadership in schools can completely change this correlation. High performing teachers have been shown to more likely improve students' performance. Low performing teachers, on the other hand, well, you make a guess.

So how does TFM address the education inequity at home? For the short-term, they are looking at creating an immediate impact in the classroom. As full-time teachers, TFM Fellows (i.e., you) will lead their students to increased levels of achievement and aspiration. Fellows will develop a deeper understanding of the unique challenges that students from underperforming schools and high-need communities face. For the long-term, they hope to make systemic change with the influential network of the TFM Ambassadors.

As TFM is new, they are looking for people to join their team. Who are they looking for? They are putting out a call for promising leaders who demonstrate:

• Outstanding academic, extracurricular and professional achievements
• A passion for TFM's mission and goals
• Commitment to making a long-term impact
• Strong communication, persuasion and motivation skills in both English and Bahasa Malaysia
• Excellent problem-solving skills, critical thinking and creativity
• Ability to organise and plan effectively
• Exceptional determination, perseverance, resilience and love for challenge
• Respect, humility and empathy

The journey with TFM begins with intensive training. A full eight weeks of it. The eight weeks of experiential, residential training begins at the end of October, 2011. The training was developed in collaboration with Teach For All, corporate partners and the Ministry of Education. The training practically provides guidelines on applying teaching, learning and leadership theories, based on the Teaching as Leadership framework. The training also provides the opportunity to practice teaching, live in a real classroom.

The training is continued throughout the two-year Fellowship. Each Fellow is assigned a Leadership Development Officer who provides personal coaching, resources and guidance; a Mentor based in the same school a Business Coach from one of TFM's corporate partners. There will be workshops by training partners to share innovative teaching methods and best practices, as well as seminars by corporate partners on a wide range of transferable workplace skills. Fellows will receive an education certification in the form of a Postgraduate Diploma in Education after the first year of teaching and credits earned towards a Masters degree. Although they told me that the training is all contextualised, I still wonder how contextualised it would be still.

Fellows make a difference in the classroom by leading students towards academic achievement that defies traditional expectations. They would need to engage, teach and challenge students in and outside the classroom, as well as work collaboratively with other teachers and school staff to build skills, share knowledge and obtain resources for the classroom. More importantly, Fellows make a difference by leading by example - be an inspirational role model by giving the students the courage to dream big!

In the community, TFM Fellows are presented a unique opportunity to design, implement and manage a sustainable, transformational project in the school or community served, with the help of the Business Coach and community leaders. This gives the chance to develop a deep understanding of the many barriers to achievement and complex problems associated with achieving equity in education.

By being involved in TFM, Fellows indirectly place themselves in a web of professional development opportunities. There will be internship and employment opportunities with top-tier organisation in Malaysia; professional development workshops run by corporate leaders and exclusive networking events with senior figures in private and public sector firms. Some of the organisations which support the Teach For All partner programs globally include McKinsey & Company, Goldman Sachs, PwC, Deloitte, The Boston Consulting Group (BCG), Citibank, ExxonMobil and Google. It is also possible to receive deferred confirmed employment offers and also defer or replace scholarship bonds. University programs that allow admitted students to defer for two years to join the TFM Fellowship include Harvard Business School, Stanford University Graduate School of Business, Harvard Law School, Columbia University Law School, Princeton Woodrow Wilson School of Public Affairs and Harvard University John F. Kennedy School of Government.

There is a five-stage admissions process involved in applying for TFM.

1. Candidates complete an online application at www.teachformalaysia.org
2. First round interview conducted over the telephone
3. 30-minute long online assessment
4. Full-day assessment including a group case study, a mock classroom activity and a one-on-one interview
5. Final offers made to successful candidates to join the First Cohort!

Intrigued? Well, check them out, bombard them with questions and if you think you would like to be part of this, apply. Their application deadline is next Monday, July 25, 2011.

Bersih 2.0 Sydney

On the ninth of July in the year of 2011, Malaysians from all walks of life regardless of ethnicity came out in full strength to show the world that they are no longer tidak apa with the goings-on in Malaysia. Likewise here in Sydney, I joined a group of passionate Malaysians in the second edition of Bersih:









While we were demonstrating our dissatisfaction through peaceful singing and speeches, we were also praying for our compatriots back home in KL, who were having a much harder time but who came out in extremely large numbers in the march of solidarity. I was especially worried for the safety and well-being of some of my friends, who I know were taking part. However, deep down inside me, I knew that they would be safe.

Watching the videos shared on YouTube and the photographs on Facebook made me have goosebumps. I was highly struck with emotion and awe. I take my hat off to the thousands of you back home who took the streets of KL fully aware of the potential risks involved.

I believe that today, we have shown what the true spirit of 1Malaysia really is like. 1Malaysia, after all, is all about national unity, is it not? So, when we really want something to happen, are Malaysians game enough?

If you ask me, today, Malaysia definitely boleh!

Let's paint the town yellow!

It has taken me some time to consider this but I have now made my mind up - I will take part in the event!


Yes, Malaysia-loving Malaysians who still think that the tanahair is worth it will be gathering in all major Australian cities. Join us to support BERSIH 2.0 for democratic, clean and fair elections. For a better Malaysia. Our demands:

1. Clean the electoral roll
2. Reform postal ballot
3. Use indelible ink
4. Minimum 21 days campaign period
5. Free and fair access to media
6. Strengthen public institutions
7. Stop corruption
8. Stop dirty politics

For Sydneysiders, the Bersih 2.0 Sydney will take place at Town Hall/Sydney Square at the universally-agreed date of July 9, 2011 (this coming Saturday). The rally will begin at 2:00pm and should go on until 3:30pm. There will be a guitarist and we will be singing the Negaraku, so be prepared to sing along! Oh, and of course, come in something yellow!


My first rally. Do not know what to expect, really, but ooh, excitednya!

Teaching children respect

by Deborah Lambeth

Everyone needs respect. In a world where the current mantra seems to be "it’s all about me" there seems to be a loss of respect in many different areas—loss of self-respect, respect for property, and respect for others. If this is the situation from an adult perspective, then how do we teach children to have an attitude of respect?

Most of the schools across America have been implementing what they call "character education." While this is a good approach to teaching children different good character traits, I believe the teaching of these begins and home and continues long after the curriculum has been taught. The character education curriculum is comprised of teaching children many different aspects of character—trustworthiness, responsibility, fairness, and respect just to name a few. In the teaching manual on respect, they list six components:

• Treat other people the way you want to be treated.
• Be courteous and polite.
• Listen to what other people have to say.
• Don't insult people, or make fun of them, or call them names.
• Don't bully or pick on others.
• Don't judge people before you get to know them.

These seem to be very basic tenets of being an all around good person. But how do you teach a child respect? There are several ways.

1. Modeling. This is the simplest way children learn. If a child hears your opinion about not liking other races, for example, the child will begin to emulate that, as well. On the flipside, if a parent exhibits a kindness towards people who are different, the child will begin to see the world as an opportunity to learn from different types of people.

2. Start at the very beginning of your child’s life. When children are old enough to play and share, it is important to teach children how to take care of their toys. This is one aspect of teaching respect for property. Teaching children how to share is also a component of respect.

3. Teach your children how to talk with people (not to people). Asking how someone’s day is going, complimenting a person on what they are wearing, etc., being concerned about something that person may be experiencing are ways of teaching your child to respect other people.

4. Expose your child to different things. Take your child to a cultural festival so they can see and experience cultural differences. Unusual foods, interesting customs, different types of music and dances can be a way a child develops interest in and acceptance of people of different races/cultures. Cultural differences abound in this country. Rather than look down on people who are different, look at cultural differences as an opportunity to learn and experience something different than your own.

5. Demonstrate respect. Do something kind. Make it a goal for you and your child (or children) to do something kind for someone at least once a month. Give your children choices and help them decide what they want to do. It may be taking used clothing to a shelter, selling lemonade on the corner and giving those proceeds to an organization that helps children, or going to your local shelter to serve a meal to the homeless.

6. Teach your child to say no. Say no to drugs, premarital sex, inappropriate touches, unwanted behavior, cigarettes, etc.-anything that would have a bearing on their development physically, socially, and psychologically. One of the more difficult challenges is to teach a child respect for themselves, but in order for a child to exhibit respect to others, they have to learn how to respect themselves. This means teaching your child that some things are just unacceptable. The bottom line is that everybody is worthy of being treated with respect—even the individual!

Aretha Franklin’s song is a good one that we all should remember however old we are! As a mnemonic device, you might want to consider this a way for your child to learn respect:

R-Respect yourself
E-Everybody deserves respect and kindness.
S-Socio-economic status has no bearing on whether someone should be respected.
P-Property. Respect other people’s property by not abusing or damaging it.
E-Environment. Respect the environment by not littering, conserving, and recycling.
C-Cultural differences should be embraced, not criticized.
T-Things. Respect the tangible and intangible things that are yours as well as others. Respect the wants and wishes of others. Respect other people’s opinions.

R-E-S-P-E-C-T—not a hard word to spell, actually and not a hard word to implement either.

(Source: http://www.buzzle.com/articles/teaching-children-respect.html)

Buns for Books!

I came across Mari Kita Membaca (MKM) a few months ago through a friend's facebook page. Literally translated as Let’s Read, MKM is a project to bring books to children living in the rural and under-served areas of Malaysia and to encourage the love of reading.

They believe that by cultivating the love of reading and independent learning they contribute towards empowering local communities. They work closely with grassroots organisations and partners on the ground supporting local initiatives. They take inspiration from the local communities, who despite the lack of resources, work hard to provide education opportunities for their children.

Education, like in any socially stratified society, is the key to breaking the cycle of inequality and discrimination. I have also found this in UNESCO and UNICEF reports, which support the work of their consultants and other personnel in imparting education and care skills to local communities in hard-to-reach areas. They go by the saying of how giving a man a fish will only let him eat for a day whereas teaching a man to fish would help him eat for a lifetime. By equipping the local communities with skills and knowledge, they come to realise the power of education thus would feel motivated and would strive to provide their children with a better future.

Currently, they have provided Library Boxes (the books are packed in lovely boxes!) to Orang Asli (indigenous) villages in Negeri Sembilan, Perak, Johor and Sabah. They also conduct reading activities in many of the villages.

In support of their good work, I managed to get the co-operation of the Malaysian Students Association (MSA) in uni and PappaRoti Australia to help me in raising funds.




A big thank you to Clayton for coming up with the designs above and for being the messenger between the MSA committee and I. Also, a big thank you to Junda and his PappaRoti team for sponsoring the buns.

Look forward to seeing everyone on Wednesday!

Early learning matters

Early learning is one of the smartest investments that we can make. Children should not be playing catch-up when they enter kindergarten, and yet so many do. If we want greater success later and a better-skilled workforce, we need to ensure the proper development of our most at-risk children at these earliest ages.

This video is by Save the Children, the world's leading independent organization for children. Their vision is a world in which every child attains the right to survival, protection, development and participation. Their mission is to inspire breakthroughs in the way the world treats children and to achieve immediate and lasting change in their lives. Working in rural communities across the world, ensuring children living in poverty have a chance at a fair start, Save the Children is one of the many such organisations doing such work.

A CNY poorer

No other Chinese New Year that I have ever experienced lives up to this year's. Not one, and not even if there was one, they do not come close.

This year was made memorable by a mishap. Was it a mishap or should I call it an unfortunate event?

I was supposed to have lunch with my dear old friend, Jon, at The Gardens for lunch. After lighting my jossticks to pay respects to Guan Yin, the Goddess of Mercy on the self-made wooden altar at home, I locked the house and was on my jolly way to the centre.

I thought of helping Mum deposit her cheques into Maybank on my way out to Sri Petaling, where Jon has been residing since the first day I befriended him. Went round to say hi to all the staff and then headed over to the other side to say hi to Mum before going off.

Clutching onto the cheques with my handbag on my shoulder, I put on my shoes and glided out of the gate. A Kancil was parked in the corner, right outside the gate. In it was a parent of one of our students waiting patiently for session to end.

A motorcycle with two men rode up the road. I waited for them to pass before crossing the road. Focussing on my footing and for them to move away, I failed to notice that one of them was approaching me. Two of my staff members, as well as the parent, did not feel that anything was amiss. Honestly, neither did I.

It was not until the person grabbed my handbag from my shoulders that we realised what they were wanting to do. My first reaction: Er, why did he take my bag? Second reaction: Give it back!

As I stepped forward to grab it back, he lifted his arm and in it he held a parang. The image of the parang did not seem to register in my mind as something to keep away from, as I still wanted to get my handbag. One of my teachers (bless her soul) quickly ran out to deter me from moving any closer. She was in tears as she screamed, "Let go, let go! Tolong, tolong!"

They got away with my handbag. I did not manage to note the registration number of their vehicle.

It took a while for the whole thing to be digested in my mind. As I was being guided into the office, I gradually realised how dangerous a position I was in and that was when I started to quiver all over. Tears started to stream down my cheeks and I began to hyperventilate. Mum grabbed some warm water and tried to soothe me, for fear of triggering my vertigo.

When I managed to pull myself together, I quickly made calls to cancel my bank cards. EON Bank had my new replacement ready for collection on the same day. HSBC posted one to North Strathfield, along with a new PIN. Maybank required Dad to apply for a replacement.

Max (I owe you big time) came to accompany me to the police station to lodge a report. We found out that I was the fourth case that day. Goodness gracious, I want to be a snatchthief, too! That way, I would be richer in a much shorter time.

Then, it was to JPN to apply for a replacement IC. With the police report in hand, I did not need to pay the RM110 fine for a first replacement. Within 10 minutes, I had a temporary IC, which Mum, Dad or bro could bring along to collect my new card in three weeks. But if I wanted to collect it personally, I have 18 months to do so. Cool! I really appreciate the friendliness of the Malay lady who served me. She was sympathetic and helpful.

What made matters worse was my housemate informing me of the suspension of our home phone line. Without the phone connection, the internet would be disconnected. Essentially, we are left with no internet for at least 2 weeks. I do not need this to happen right now, as I have tutorials to start teaching and I am back in uni!

I could not sleep that night, as the scenario kept coming back. Would like to thank the two lovely gentlemen who accompanied me that night and who heard me cry it all out - Guek Ming and Max. Big hugs to both of you!

The next day, it was to JPJ for a new license. As my uncle adviced to bring along one passport-sized photo, that was precisely what I brought. And other than the police report, that was more or less all that they needed. Oh, of course, and some cash for renewal. RM30 for a year, I renewed it to last until 2015, as it carries on from my stolen license which expires in 2012.

I have to admit that I was pretty impressed with JPJ. They were super efficient! The whole process did not take longer than 10 minutes eventhough there was a crowd. With all nine counters manned and with things flowing steadily, the fabled long queue at government offices was no where to be seen.

Not exactly how I thought my three-week CNY break would end but oh well, c'est la vie, eh?

Isn’t everything mainstream?

What is mainstream? Mainstream would be what is deemed normal, perhaps. Or dominant? Some of you may think of the word majority. Whatever your definition may be, we still point to it thinking that anything that is mainstream is the norm.

But what is not normal? What is not mainstream?

We now live in an age whereby rights of various groups are upheld and fought for. We want to live in a just and respectful society. To achieve that, we say that we would need to abolish preferential treatment of certain groups. Have we succeeded in doing so?

In Australia, there are ‘mainstream’ schools and Aboriginal schools and similarly in New Zealand, where they have Maori schools that are open to everyone. In Malaysia, we have the Malay, Chinese and Tamil schools, all, which are open to any member of the society from any ethnicity. So tell me, which schools are mainstream and which are not?

They cater to everyone. If we deem mainstream ‘normal’ and ‘majority’, should they not all be considered mainstream schools, then?

Everywhere you go, you would be able to find shops run by Chinese, Korean, Indian and some other nationality. Okay, let us focus on the Chinese in Malaysia and Australia. We are not considered mainstream but our influences are everywhere! There is Chinese press, Chinese radio stations, Chinese television networks, Chinese shops of all sorts and the Chinese language is everywhere. But we are not mainstream.

If we fight for equality and claim that we are a fair country, shouldn’t everything be mainstream?

Changing the culture of a school

How hard is it to change the culture of a school? I have been thinking about this more recently due to studies and my recent full-time stint with Mum. Here I am, this young, innocent and naïve being thinking that she is able to ‘save the world’ with her 4-year accumulated knowledge in a foreign land. But will my degree experience be applicable?

The culture of a school has been there way before I and for me to make changes, would take some Herculean effort. Culture works both ways, as it affects us as much as we affect it. We simultaneously learn the culture we are immersed in and create new culture as we adapt and modify our mindsets. Existing perceptions and notions are always hard to overcome and change. So do we change or modify things?

I suppose, it depends on which parts of the school culture it is that we intend to change to determine if we really do require the powers of Hercules. Together with all members of our teaching team, point out the pros and cons of the school culture. Which do we want to keep and improve on? Which do we not want to keep and discourage? How are we going to achieve the outcomes and by what precursors? Whose standards are we going to abide by? Yes, we have the local state rules and the umbrella Government ones. We also have those from the various departments the school falls under. But in school, whose rules and regulations will fellow colleagues, students and we submit to?

If there are members of the teaching team who are not willing to develop the same vision and work along the same philosophies as the collective, it is suggested that they leave and allow others who do to come on board. That way, it would be a win-win situation for both sides as it would be more meaningful for everyone. There is nothing worse than feeling like there is a gun pointed to your head when going to work everyday.

Understanding the strengths and weaknesses of the teaching team would be one step to take, as well. Have a look at your hand, your fingers. Are they all the same length? No, they are not and so is your team. Every team would be made up of different people from diverse backgrounds, who, when put together and recognized for their strengths, would be able to do wonders. Reason being each member of the team would fill in for each other’s weaknesses.

Where possible, it would also be of much help if effort is put into understanding the needs and wants of the community that the school serves. There is no point in drawing up ambitious plans and visionary goals for the school if it does not relate to the children’s lives. When what the children do at school serves purpose outside of school, especially when it involves their parents’ thoughts, children would feel more motivated to attend school. Why? Simply because they feel valued. That what they do is not something totally alien. In essence, the student-teacher-parent relationship would need to be one that is respectful and understood to make things happen in a meaningful way for all involved.

To change the culture of a school, there must be some understanding of the current culture. Talk to the children and find out what are the underlying issues in the school are, get to know them and make those connections genuine. Children are experts in detecting if you are just playing up to them or if you really want to help them, teach them, change things for them.

It also helps when there is a special someone in the school or the community to guide you along. Perhaps someone like a mentor, mother hen kind of figure. That person does not necessarily need to be highly qualified – just a treasure trove of information and experience and a ready torchlight should you require some shining light. Always remember that no matter what position it is that we hold it is never not okay to ask for help. We are only human and it is human to err, to not know the answers to everything. So do not try to be Superman or Wonder Woman – go to the right resources and start off the right foot.

The other face of holiness

By Petra Gimbad

“Each contact with a human being is so rare, so precious, one should preserve it.” – Anais Nin

There I was, giving out name cards at the airport and on the plane. I had spent the week meditating with monks and nuns in Indonesia.

I thought wryly: I am not home and it is work already.

Before I boarded the plane, I met an Indonesian passenger in the waiting room who asked what work it was that I do. When I said I was an NGO worker, he asked if I could provide advice.

It was advice for his friend that he was after, not for himself – despite experiencing arrest in Malaysia a few months before. I admitted I did not know. He thanked me gracefully and disappeared.

On the plane, I found myself sitting next to a factory worker.

Both of us were were leaving Indonesia for Malaysia. I was returning home, he was returning to work. He was in love: when I asked how that was going, he did not know – it was a long-distance relationship, he had to leave her behind if he wanted to earn more. He spent the past month with his ill father who was still hospitalized.

His father was 80 years old. Hanging in the air was the unsaid: there was little time left for them, as father and son. Yet, here he was: on a plane, leaving his country.

All I could think was: my God, he is returning to work in a factory to earn money for his ailing father.

I asked frankly: Malaysia is not always kind to outsiders – we have racial issues even among our own. With the discrimination you experience, why do you return? You can farm – why not stay, plant what you eat – what is it that is worth leaving the home you already miss?

Money, he replied.

I did not know what to say.

Without much detail, he agreed that discrimination occurs and that “some workers in Malaysia are not treated very well.”

Then, he asked what I thought of my trip to Indonesia. I expressed genuine admiration for how hard the locals worked. The few days spent travelling revealed a community who tilled land and sold home-produced goods, both never-ending. Persons working in cities held several jobs with no days off.

Still – despite lacking time and money, many were versatile – singing, drumming and guitar strumming were everywhere. In one area, someone motioned to houses perched on paddy fields, saying people here build their own homes, adding a bit at a time depending on what they can afford.

I looked closer: many of the homes the locals rebuilt after the earthquake that hit a few years back had a beauty and symmetry missing in many Malaysian village houses.

This past week brought the discovery that political knowledge, a love of art, house-building ability and the wisdom of paddy planting can be contained in a single person. As I travelled, I met more of them.

The young man was a serious listener and agreed with what I said. “Yes, Indonesians work very hard. Malaysians on the other hand – give them 1, 2, days, and they complain of exhaustion.” He shook his head with disbelief.

We left it at that and spent the rest of the flight cracking jokes and laughing – talking about youthful lust, the need for affordable birth control for foreign workers and whether there was hope for Indonesia. By then, he revealed some girls at his workplace, who were originally from village areas, were pregnant due to naivette – they did whatever their boyfriends told them to do.

When we discussed the babies’ legitimacy, my question on baby selling came as no surprise to him. In case the rumours were true, I passed him contacts.

At the end, he asked whether I visited his village. I had not. We were wistful as he did not know when he would return.

Removing a package from his backpack, he explained they were sweets from his village. “They cost 1,000 rupiah, but if we can shape them into this form, they cost 15,000 rupiah.”

I protested. “It will be a long time before you go home. You will miss the taste.”

“No,” he insisted, “Take them.”

He would not hear of my paying him for them. I teared.

I was looking peace and enlightenment in a temple, and this man showed me what strength and patience is.

To that man and the many like him, I wish you well.

The writer wants to write like Pramoedya Ananta Toer when she grows up.

A tale of two sisters, shopping

By Petra Gimbad

Dedicated to my sister

“Above all, remember that the most important thing you can take anywhere is not a Gucci bag or French-cut jeans; it’s an open mind.” – Gail Rubin Bereny

It is one thing to shop for the office and another to shop for the jungle: an important realization.

Recently united, my sister and I embarked on a shopping spree long overdue in glitzy Kuala Lumpur.

We would find the best bargains for the best quality, and stuff that was pretty as it was practical for our village, jungle and street environments. We would go where no woman (or man) has gone before.

My sister is the researcher who hikes into villages and jungles at least every second week. I am the child protector who works in a red light area.

She gets to scrub her body frantically at the end of the day to search for leeches, and I get to scrub my head and feet for fear of tuberculosis and needles.

She needed, among other things, a pair of jeans: “I need them to hike in the jungle and to visit ketua-ketua kampung (village heads) – it’s disrespectful to wear track bottoms.”

So off to the mall we went.

First stop: Stage Cosmetics.

“Here, you help her – my sister knows nothing about lipsticks,” said my sister, who reviews skincare and cosmetics part-time. The lovely makeup assistant, B, had welcomed us and introduced an array of pink lipsticks.

“How about this?” B dabbed a shade of pink on my mouth.

“Too Siti Nurhaliza. I’m not a pop queen.”

“This?”

“Alamak, too Mak Datin. I belum cari Datuk lagi!” (Oh dear, too Datin. I have not found a Datuk yet!)

“How about this now?”

“Er, very nice. But… people in my work area will think I’m a sex worker. I don’t want to unintentionally offend some tai kor (gang leader) if I say no when he asks what’s my price.” I was slightly miserable by then.

“Where do you work?”

My sister and I told him.

“Have you ever been asked whether you’re a prostitute?”

“No, but someone I know was.”

B gasped. “Apa jadi?” (What happened?)

“She said she was having her period, so maybe he can ask our colleague instead.”

He laughed.

Next: Caring Pharmacy.

We looked for moisturizers and sunscreen. A sales assistant suggested a brand.

“No, that doesn’t work in the jungle. My skin will peel,” said my sister absently. She turned and pointed to another brand. “Now this brand’s good if you’re planting padi (paddy). Aunty X uses it when she’s in the fields and she’s fairer than I am. But it breaks me out.”

“Maybe it only works if you’re working the paddy fields.” We pondered awhile before realizing the sales assistant had scuttled off.

Third stop: Metrojaya.

The fact that my sister works in an office on weekdays and that her feet are more attractive than mine made me sigh. We discovered a white pair of shoes that fit her perfectly.

I insisted that she purchase them: I cannot wear shoes that show dirt because of the street outreach component of my work and wanted to live vicariously through her feet.

“Value the fact that you work in an office, and able to wear heels and white shoes,” I exhaled dolefully. Her feet did look pretty.

The sales assistant tried to sell me a pair of high heels and I refused. As any clubbing kaki (buddy) would know, most women’s shoes in Malaysia are made for fashion and not function. Wear them for three hours and you will lose your toes.

Many Malaysians do not understand the word “No”. My sister helpfully explained to the assistant: “My sister can’t wear shoes she can’t run after kids in. She works with street children you know?”

The woman was flabbergasted. She tried to sell us another pair of heels, made in suede.

“No, no. I can’t rinse these in the sink. I need to be able to run in them, and rinse them to attend night functions.”

My sister turned to the sales assistant, “My sister is serious, you know.”

We knew we spoke gibberish when the assistant looked confused.

In the end, we abandoned the plan to buy a pair of jeans for my sister at the department store, opting for the market near my workplace instead.

“How much?” asked my sister.

“RM5.”

“Ok – let’s go!”

The writer works at a children’s organization.

Did You Know 2.0?

This is a little dated but I still find it applicable to some extent... so enjoy...

The Universal Declaration of Human Rights

Lessons in poverty

Lesson In Poverty
by Petra Gimbad

My father's first job was in a prawn factory. Being poor, all he had that was presentable for work was his school shirt. He turned up to discover that his job was shelling prawns. By the end of the day, his shirt was ruined.

I cried as a child when he told me the story. Even now, it is difficult to write about it when I imagine the pain he felt when he came home, exhausted, while peeling off his only collared shirt.

Growing up, I have often and silently questioned my father’s deep faith. He is the spiritual structure upon whom my family is built: insisting that we attend Sunday school and church.

Even now, there is something comforting about his presence. When he returns, it always feels right to attend mass together. He reminds me of certain things, primarily of the importance to returning to my humanity as a spiritual being.

In contrast to my father, I sometimes question the worth in holding faith or hope. I can see the value of hope to keep one going, but despite my belief that there is a God, I have no faith that everything works out for the best.

Recently, I had the fortunate experience challenging my views, by virtue of attending a child protection course at a theological seminary in Penang.

Part of a masters in holistic child development, this was good exposure to spiritual approaches to poverty and development. Most of my course-mates came from African and Asian countries.

Hungry for new perspectives on poverty and development, I devoured my roommate’s books at night. A lot of the analyses were uncomfortably simplistic, but some of the views resonated.

Poverty is not just material, it is also spiritual. The rich, too, feel loneliness and depression. The poor are not exempt from the love and warmth of family and friends.

I dislike immensely happy-clappy persons who declare, "As long as you have God and religion, all will be okay," – a view often propagated condescendingly by the upper and middle-classes.

Even a child from a loving family who plays happily in the streets of a red light district feels hunger, the lack of medical treatment and the shame being jeered at in school for his or her inability to perform academically through lack of affordable tuition.

However, I could not help but feel moved when an Ethiopian girl said, "To me, being in Malaysia is like paradise. In my country our water can be cut off any time, electricity is inconsistent. People there are not only poor, but they are destitute. But we do not feel poor, because we have Jesus."

Uncomfortably, I started to reflect on my father’s faith, as well as the masseuse who cared enough for my family to recite verses from the Quran and a close friend who brings refugees to Buddhist temples to pray.

A lecturer, who works with children who were trafficked and sold into sex slavery, challenged with the perspective that our lack of genuine connection in the world can be a cause of poverty.

Slowly, I started to see. When people practise compassion, kindness and justice on behalf of the other they stand a better chance of survival, even if they struggle. We must not gloss over the fact that being poor is a struggle.

He also questioned the school of thought that children who have been trafficked and sold into slavery are beyond redemption. Children can still feel happiness and we must hope. Otherwise, why do this work?

After the course, it was my father who picked me up at the station. He asked what I learnt. Grateful, I said I was thankful for the love and respect he holds for my mother. Had he philandered and left, its impact could have prevented us from becoming who we are today.

Humbled by his experience of poverty, one realises he holds an understanding of God and how society works to a depth that I may never comprehend.

He brought me home and we celebrated Father’s Day.

The author still learns from her father. Happy belated Fathers’ Day to all.

Comments: letters@thesundaily.com

Kindness is still here

By Petra Gimbad

I've been taking the bus from Brickfields to make my way home. For those not in the know, it's a predominantly Indian area located in Kuala Lumpur. I love it for its vegetarian food, temples, courageous Catholic priests and old buildings and trees.

It's also a haven for this budding photographer. My photography skills are seriously of shit quality. Snap anything in Brickfields, however, and you're bound to take something good. The last two days I've been zooming in on this wizened Chinese man (a contrast against the district's mainly Indian population) who rummages through garbage for aluminium cans and bottles to sell for income.

Yesterday he was alone. Today he had a friend, which may explain why he carried twice as much, in plastic bags.

Tonight I took the bus home and was touched by four acts of kindness.

The first: a blind man was helped onto the bus by a woman whom I initially took to be his niece. I realised she wasn't when he sat alone.

The second: I sat beside the man and asked where he was going so that I could press the bell when it came to his destination. The woman beside me, smiling, said not to worry - they were getting off at the same stop.

The blind man was Chinese. The woman who looked after him was Malay.

The third: an old woman - you know the kind, skinny and really elderly - she dropped her bags. She tried to pick them up as the bus swung and almost rammed into the door. A young girl grabbed her so she didn't fall.

The woman was Chinese. The young girl was Malay or one of the illegal immigrants you see around - I suspect Myanmarese or Indonesian.

The fourth: the bus stopped at a location I didn't recognise. It was not a bus stop and I wondered why. Then I realised: it was smack in front of a flight of stairs leading down to an impoverished group of flats. The bus driver, bless him, stopped where it was secure for its residents to climb down and make their way home.

I was touched. This has been a good night, and to be able to see these things, I feel truly blessed.

PS: It struck for a moment that had I stayed to do law, I may have never taken the bus. I would be in New Zealand or I'll be taking taxis or driving. Now that I have the time and my pocket money is rather limited, the 45 minute wait for the bus it is.

But as you can see, it is so, so, so, much well worth the wait. xx