A Tale of A Thousand Cities

Much ado has been made about New York City receiving the Lee Kuan Yew Prize. The idea that a city with an established status in our global cultural imagination needs an award from Singapore seemed appalling to many. Interestingly, the responses from this side of the pond had an admittedly aspirational tone.

In the past, the cultural obsession to emulate the West has always been an issue much discussed and debated. The recent economic recession, violent manifestations of pathological social apathy (London riots), class inequality (Occupy Wall Street movement) and a general lack of worldliness in the West should have put an end to this. However it has not.

Now, what has previously passed for Western ideals have become entangled with global ones, forming a cosmopolitan philosophy, so to speak. In this instance, the mainstream belief is that as a city, Singapore, has to aspire to be like other cities in the West so as to become a world-class city of its own.

The thing is, New York City became the icon it is today not by trying to be like another city, but simply by being itself, allowing its people to meld and clash, to luxuriate in their varying immigrant cultures and counter cultures, creating a sense of spontaneity and freshness of thought.

Singapore has all the necessary hallmarks of an international hub. It has already established itself as far as economy, education, security, technology and transportation are concerned. During the past few years, policy makers have focused on making Singapore a more culturally vibrant city by building the necessary infrastructure and funneling the required funds to arts, entertainment and media industries. They have relaxed certain laws and legislation and created new avenues to increase tourism. We seem to have it all.

We have the brand but not the substance. Culture cannot be copied, it has to be created. For Singapore to possess the cultural and intellectual joie de vivre it seeks, it has to do so on its own terms. Comments questioning our freedom of expression and blaming government restrictions are excuses being recycled from a bygone era.

It seems that the fundamental thing holding us back is ourselves, our fear to own up to our place in society, our diverse yet shared cultures, our immigrant history, our land.

Perhaps this deep rooted inferiority complex in our collective social psyche has to do with the fact that we have always been a small country surrounded by far bigger ones, forcing us to be an overachieving population, constantly striving to prove ourselves by taking on a path of success and cultural recognition already laid out by older and ‘wiser’ nations.

Or maybe it the shape of our terrain itself inhibiting us. The Ancient Greeks talked about people who lived on land completely surrounded by sea lacking the imagination and depth in thought which their counterparts living in mountainous regions possessed. Apparently, the strangest mythologies and the oldest cities sprung from unbroken and wild terrain. Yet these very same Greeks spoke about the island city of Atlantis, that mythological place where men reached their full cultural and intellectual potential.

Perhaps, it is time for us to release all these preconceived notions about what a great city should be and simply aspire to be greater than ourselves.

At the same time, it should be noted – like any other cosmopolitan and culturally established city, New York City has a dark side, a historically rich underbelly of crime and poverty and homelessness. There is always a cost to greatness.

Reena Devi

An edited version of this piece was published in TODAY newspaper and TODAYonline.

Random Perspectives: Magic & Science in Society

In Lev Grossman’s best selling novel The Magicians, we come to witness a world where power and magic are possessed by flawed human beings who in spite of their schooling and training and brilliance are lost in the real world, trying to find a space for themselves.

Current hit ABC television program Once Upon a Time takes on well-known fairy tales about true love and magical power by showcasing the characters of these fairy tales as real people struggling to find their happy endings, creating a world where good people do bad things and bad people sometimes do great things.

There is no clear divide between the bogeyman and the prince, no separation between white wizard and dark wizard. Suddenly, the world of fantasy has taken on a real world darkness.

Surprisingly, mainstream viewers and readers are lapping this up indicating the mass appeal of such concepts and ideas.

In the early years of the previous decade, the blockbuster success of Harry Potter, Lord of The Rings and Narnia movies indicated that the fantasy genre had became a rather more mainstream preoccupation, a culturally accepted form of escapism from the harsh realities and seismic changes of those times.

So why have we decided to let the world we escape to become more like the world we live in?

Perhaps this blurring of lines between fantasy and reality is an indication of the appetite of our collective conscious, a desire for the return to primitive magic, a yen long repressed by the advocating of rational thought and scientific processes.

Already, labeling and categorizing, a methodology associated with the scientific approach, has become a real issue; In the recent analysis of an upcoming revision of the influential Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorder (DSM), psychologists, psychiatrists and other experts said new categories of mental illness identified in the manual considered ‘silly’ and ‘worrying and dangerous’.

This brings to mind ‘diagnosis bias’, a term discussed in the best selling book, The Irresistible Pull of Irrational Behavior. The authors link the increase of diagnosis of bipolar disorder to the modern diagnostic system put into use in 1980 with the publication of the DSM-III, which “broadened” the bipolar diagnosis. They go on to explain how such diagnosis bias can lead to the patient himself or herself changing their behaviors to fit the diagnosis. Once people are labeled, they tend to live up (or down) to those labels, taking on characteristics of the diagnosis.

What if scientific approach and rational thought are merely social constructs and the world around us is actually the world that has been seen and understood since the beginning of the history of mankind, one observed by the likes of Native Indians and the Ancient Greeks, by our various religious prophets?

What if, alongside exploring the realms of sea and space, we had chosen to keep exploring what is within us, the dark spaces of our inner psyche? What might we have found by now?

These questions have been addressed in depth by the greatest thinkers of our past – Carl Jung, Plato amongst them. Yet with our current twenty first century rational minds, we look at them as throwaway questions of a whimsical nature. Perhaps the current issues with scientific labeling as well as the material conflicts of our times will lead to a mainstream contemplation of such questions. Current cultural preferences certainly seem to predict such a shift.

Reena Devi

The Youth: A Lost Generation

A few years ago, news media such as Bloomberg started talking about a ‘Lost Generation’ with reference to the young fresh graduates in America facing bleak employability opportunities and lower wages as compared to their more fortunate counterparts of preceding generations. This was becoming a problem in other parts of the world, such as Europe.

The recession has obviously exacerbated this issue. A few hours ago it was reported that youth unemployment hit an all time low of 51.5% in Greece.

In Asia, specifically Singapore, we seem to be much more fortunate. A BBC report, towards the end of last year, puts youth unemployment in Singapore at a low 5.6%. Statistics aside, it is evident in shopping malls and restaurants in this country that young people are enjoying the benefits of a privileged life, secure in the knowledge of a regular income that is well above minimum wage.

Yet something feels amiss. We are not brats feeding off trust funds, we are working hard and earning our keep, we are maintaining independent lifestyles without burdening our families, we are contributing to society in the manner of productive and functional individuals – so why then do we seem to be staring into such a moral and existential abyss? Why are our policymakers, during recent parliamentary debates, talking about a ‘social recession’?

Mr. Stanley Tan, chairman of National Philanthropy and Volunteer Center, in an interview with the Straits Times last year, stated that Singapore could become a dysfunctional society if it continued emphasizing success and achievement over inherent values.

Given the recent furor over the building of an elderly care center at the void deck of a HDB flat, his words seem to take on a prophetic and ominous tone.

More importantly, if we are witnessing the beginnings of a slippery slide into moral degradation and loss of civic consciousness, why aren’t we, the generation of well educated, independent, opinionated youths, stepping up to do anything about it?

Just like our grandparents, we live in a new world but we need to inculcate their pioneering spirit which enabled them to take on the post-war struggles of creating a viable economy with a strong sense of community.

We need to become more aware of the uncertainties and difficulties of the recession climate, even in our own country where middle class struggles are becoming a real issue, where there are people struggling to make ends meet to support their sick and elderly parents, where financially unstable single parent families are on the constant rise. This awareness could be fueled into action towards greater social integration rather than disparity and disconnectivity.

We are the lost generation, only because we seem to have given up our role in community building. The obstacles we face in the process of building a socially and fiscally sustainable future should not deter us but serve as a reminder that we are creating our own legacy, typically an immensely challenging process.

Besides, isn’t it time we be a part of history rather than simply study it and talk about it?

Reena Devi

The Elderly: Faceless Figures

Before you read this post, I strongly encourage you to read this short news report at (http://www.channelnewsasia.com/stories/singaporelocalnews/view/1180393/1/.html)

Writing this article has been an extremely difficult process. When one is confronted by an incident, an issue that is problematic, it is often one’s instinct to identify the precise cause of that said problem. We locate the cause of grief and then we aim to find a solution. The above mentioned article created a great sense of disbelief and disenchantment within me. I remember reading it more than a month back in the Straits Times and thinking: “Is this really a reflection of the society we live in?” The disturbing but undeniable reply of course was: “Yes”.

The report basically highlighted that residents from an area in Woodlands were up in arms over the planned construction of a day care centre for the elderly in the void decks of two flats in the area. The report highlights that “nine in 10 residents in the area are against the idea” and that residents “have petitioned their Member of Parliament (MP) Ellen Lee, in a bid to get the centre to move elsewhere.” The report proceeds on to get more disturbing. Many residents who complained fear that the centre “will affect the value of their flats.” An editorial in Yahoo News, highlighted that amongst the concerns of the residents, (not just in woodlands but other housing estates where these centres have been built) is the fear that such centres “would be ‘inauspicious’ as it may mean more deaths in the estate.”

The report is disturbing in a multitude of ways. Firstly, the blatant and shockingly apparent apathy towards the needs of the elderly is perhaps a sobering reflection of how Singaporeans have grown to formulate our priorities. This sobering reality has been accorded to me over the course of this month as I had chats with colleagues and friends over this issue. Many echo the sentiments of the residents, arguing that it is sad but true that they too would indicate displeasure if the valuation of their flats were affected. Many of course, in true Singaporean spirit decided that it was the Government’s fault (Isn’t it always nowadays) and that they should build these elderly day care centres in isolation where normal middle class citizens would not be affected, nevermind that these facilities are meant for the elderly living in the HDB estates and isolating them would render these facilities absolutely redundant. We seem to disregard the needs of the elderly as being secondary to the economic value of our flats, and more disturbingly, we seem to feel that it is ok to think so.

This left me with a equally pertinent question. Why am I so affected? I do not consider myself to be an exceptionally moral person. I have done my part in community projects but I wouldn’t consider myself to be extremely passionate about social service. After much thought, I could only come up with one real reason. I grew up with my grandparents and I remain extremely attached to both sets of grandparents. I have observed my grandparents growing old and I worry incessantly about their comforts and the facilities that cater to them. I am very much aware that they will need more facilities and care in the years to come. Perhaps it is this personal contact and affection that is lacking in our society today.

The family today usually does not fit the mould of the extended family of earlier times. Many children grow up without much contact with their grandparents, meetings limited to once a month or even less. In some cases grandparents become ornamental figures we see during festivals and auspicious times, the givers of ang-pows and little else. Without access to grandparents, our ability to understand their perspectives diminishes; our annoyance at their quirks increases. They become redundant artefacts in the family museum, legends who just fade away in the recesses of our memory. This extends to our society. The aged become a social problem. They become a collective ‘other’ in society, a burden that the state (it is always the government’s fault anyways) has to bear; a problem that we should petition our MP to move elsewhere. (we should do the right thing of course, just somewhere else) The elderly, stop being our parents, our grandparents and become just a collective social issue. A group of people whom we have scant respect for as individuals. They lose their identities, their characteristics.

They are faceless figures in our amorphous society.

(This is dedicated to my grandparents who have been mentors, friends, parents and my emotional support and intellectual guides. Thanks Achamma, Achicha, Ammuma and Ammacha)

Pravin Prakash
(I look forward to your feedback and I would love to do a follow up article based on your reviews and perspectives)

The Identity Series Part 2 : IDENTITY TODAY: The Undefined Self

At any given social function, the first question individuals most commonly ask when meeting someone new is an obvious tell of what they give importance to with regards to definition of one’s identity.

In other cities, like Edinburgh for example, the question most often tends to be, ‘Where did you go to school?’ – regardless of age or class, everyone gets asked this. (I suspect it has something to do with the city’s pursuit of academic and intellectual excellence throughout its history.)

In Singapore it varies.

A life is charted by a progression, from birth to family, followed by school and making friends, then accumulating the necessary academic qualifications to get the necessary job to pay the bills and buy the house, to support the elderly parents, forming ties of friendship and commitment with people around us, building a life based on these ties, creating a foundation for a family of one’s own.

We tend to define ourselves based on whichever stage we are at in this progression – the school, the job, the relationship etc.

What happens to an individual who is not at any of the aforementioned stages? Does he or she no longer exist as part of the fabric of functional society? In these times of economic uncertainties, material struggles and rapid social changes, people tend to veer off the path – what then defines them?

At this juncture we are often introduced to a series of non-conformist labels and categories for those who do not fit into the requisite mold of society, we are brought to organizations and movements which fight for the rights of these individuals with lesser rights.

Sexuality is an example of this phenomenon. If you are a man who does not favor women in any physical and sexual sense, you become a ‘homosexual’. If you favor both genders, you are a ‘bisexual’. Then you immerse yourself in the lifestyle and community of individuals who share you sexual preferences. Yet this means of defining one’s identity and place in society based on choice of sexual partner is not as foolproof as it seems. In fact, it is shifting.

A quick look at the current hit primetime television dramas, ‘The Good Wife’, and ‘Revenge’ show a development of a new archetypical character, one who displays a high degree of sexual ambiguity and is able to function within the various strata of sexually classified society. These characters are a mere reflection of an emerging trend of such individuals in society, those who are beyond sexual labels and categories – so how do they define themselves?

We are often told that identity is shaped by a sense of belonging.

This usually entails your family’s history and legacy, recognition of your bloodline, the land your grandparents migrated to, the land your forefathers were born. Nonetheless, these are aspects of the past, of a history that has little to do with you as a standalone individual in today’s world that gives more value to ‘now’ and ‘tomorrow‘ as compared to the past.

You may have been born in a specific place but that does not necessarily mean you will belong there. It does not guarantee you will feel as if you instantly fit in with your family and peers, as if every action you carry out and the words you say will be accepted, given its due measure of importance.

Globalisation, migration and travel grant us the opportunities to create lives for ourselves away from our birth countries but we are fundamentally foreigners there too, only feeling a sense of belonging amongst other expats. Your identity becomes defined by your ‘otherness’.

This is the dilemma of the quintessential twenty first century individual – he (or she) belongs nowhere but is connected to everywhere and a part of everything.

Maybe it is time to define identity as an open ended question, opening up our socially ingrained notions of perceiving ourselves based on the narrowest terms, accepting the multitude of possibilities that we can be at any given time and place.

Being able to pin down somebody within the first few minutes of meeting them always makes someone more comfortable, increases their own false sense of security. I know his type, she is exactly like the kind I know – these are the thoughts that create familiarity and hence facilitate social interaction.

Yet, these means of social identification are quickly becoming outmoded in the world that is creeping up on us, a world where the most interesting individual at a party will be socially and sexually textured, technically unemployed (yet working on several fiscally feasible projects in a diverse range of unrelated fields), and will possess a surprisingly strong sense of family history while being relatively untethered at heart.

He (or she) could be the next new social archetype of this century, simply known as the Undefined.

Reena Devi

The Identity Series Part 1 : The Refracted Identity – A Personal Reflection.

One’s identity is often understood to be a reflection of how he views himself: “I view myself as such and therefore identify myself within the garbs of my understanding”. However, what happens when one’s conceptualization of oneself is essentially a refracted identity; a cross-dressed projection that lacks the safe shelter of accepted socially safe definitions?

My attempts at embracing my identity have always consisted of attempting to wear multiple hats while adroitly dodging impositions of cultural bias. I attempt (and fail somewhat) at being Malayalee with my family and its enjoined social circle. I attempt (and fail somewhat once again) at being Tamil while with my friends. I cling onto an Indian identity (despite its lack of any real essence within Singaporean society) in the hope that it offers a sane explanation at my beleaguered attempts. I do understand that I don’t have to make these attempts. I could rebuff one identity and embrace the other. However, I strongly believe that doing so would be rejection of who I truly am and as such I will continue to attempt a balancing act of sorts, clinging on to a fractured umbrella identity that offers little solace from the storm in my soul.

Perhaps difficulties at finding ones identity are exacerbated when one has to define oneself within state established ethno-cultural moulds. A custom, one-size-fits-all structure that attempts to regulate how one identifies oneself. The complexities that envelop the term ‘Indian’ in Singapore have strong structural roots and are entrenched within state policy. Since Independence, Singapore has followed a multiracial state policy that has attempted to clearly define its population within 4 racial categories, Chinese, Malay, Indian and others. Each race was also allocated a race-language, with the Indians given Tamil as their ‘racial language’ of sorts. This massive oversimplification I would argue has led to intense difficulties with regards to how Indians have identified themselves. The attempt at state controlled ethnicity has created social barriers that have led to a divisive Indian community in Singapore. The idea that Indians must be Tamil speaking had the unintended and immediate effect of creating a North-Indian and South-Indian divide that exists till today. Non Tamil speaking South Indians are also sometimes mistakenly seen as others, a common question statement being, “He isn’t Indian, he is Malayalee.” I do not disagree with the policy of having Tamil as a national language. I myself consider myself to have benefitted from having been exposed to Tamil language and culture. However the oversimplified racial policy (CMIO) has had the unintended effect of preventing the term Indian from being an umbrella identity that essentially culturally and linguistically different Diaspora could have comfortably clung to. I could easily have been a Tamil speaking Malayalee and part of a larger Indian community but all three identities, in my opinion are essentially confused and fractured.

My pursuit to belong has hence often left me uncomfortable in my own shoes, unclear of who I really am and what I am supposed to believe in. My arguments today have run its discourse in my mind for the better part of 2 decades; a sometimes schizophrenic debate that has raged within me as I have struggled to identify myself within myself, my community (various communities?), society and country. This is my attempt at highlighting that there is perhaps a structural reason behind why belonging and identifying oneself is so difficult in Singaporean society. This is my attempt at rationalizing my refracted identity.

Pravin Prakash