Class Participation and SMU
So Jac posted this documentary of SMU (made by SMU) about the issue of class participation. Or at least it meanders around this issue and never actually gets a point. I suppose it tried to find some balance in the entire thing by showing both the pro and con side (and sticking some predictable ‘think about it’ on the video site), but seriously, if you want to fit something as broad as ‘class participation’ into a 15 minute documentary, everything is going to turn out shallow. Pick one aspect of class participation and run with it, not fit the 5W’s into the whole thing.
I’m reacting a bit more aggressively than I should be doing, which is something much to my surprise… I guess this whole participation thing is something that I do take grave issue with, and the assumptions that people have about it. I don’t like the Singaporean way of thinking that speaking up in class = good thing for ‘personal growth’, whatever that means, because we’re still falling behind this idea that we’re obliged to do something not because of interest, but because we’ve gotten this assumption that class participation means… what do they call it? A better interview spot?
We’re paralleling this whole Science/Arts debate all over again. The general idea is that taking Science leaves one open for more opportunities while Arts closes them. So we take Science, not because we are genuinely interested in Biology or Chemistry, but because there’s always this threat that in the event you really, really want to be a rocket scientist, you don’t have to look back and say, ‘WELL, SHIT’. (I’m of the opinion that if you’re not interested in physics at 15, you sure as hell aren’t going to be interested in physics at 30, but there are always the obvious exceptions, etc etc).
I get it, I really do. My issue is that they’ve generalized ’speaking up’ so broadly it hurts to look at it. Has SMU actually read any data that shows a correlation between speaking up in class and doing well in interviews? Have they done any research that shows that speaking in class is a skill that, when successfully taught, that can be generalized to any situation? Have they done any research to show how reliable their assumptions are in determining why people don’t speak up in class? Do they really fare any worse or better, in a personal sense? Have they done any research that shows that SMU cranks out ‘different and/or better people’ (whatever that still means) than NUS or NTU? Have these people done any research whatsoever that the sole skill in speaking up actually influences their graduates’ hiring rate? (I also like the irony that, according to the SMU Wikipedia page, that all the statistics showing SMU to be the better school stems from SMU itself, and not a independent organization. Also, one of the links are dead.)
And the laughable surveys with the funny looking balloons are just… so incredulous to take seriously. What was the question asked? What was the sample size? Who were the people surveyed? Did you check for any bias, or did you just run around the school yelling for opinions and compiling them in Microsoft Excel? There were so many things they left out (partially because, yet again, it’s only 15 minutes. I don’t know if they were doing this on their own watch or maybe it was some class assignment thing, but whatever) that you just cannot take the data seriously.
I especially liked the bits where they interviewed professors and students alike, and everyone just pulled these assumptions out of their ass (I guess that’s why they call it assumptions) and threw their own theories as to why kids don’t like to speak up (DATA, PEOPLE, DATA. You have a damn Psychology department; get your information there!). I especially like the complete contradiction at the end where ‘being yourself’ means ‘if you’re introverted, you still gotta bypass that shit and SPEAK UP’, as if talking is some sort of inherent personality trait in everyone THAT NEEDS TO BLOOM LIKE A PRETTY FLOWER. I got so furious with Mr. American Professor Who Was Talking with Kirpal Singh because he spouted so much nonsense I wanted to punch my screen in (of course, this is only a matter of personal opinion and experience, and absolutely nothing to do with his pretentiousness).
… And yet again, we still hold America as the epitome of progress and whatnot. I don’t get the Singaporean system, quite honestly. We adopt a British education system for the first 12 years and then you except the students to automatically adjust to a system that is so radically and structurally different (read “Sponsored and Contest Mobility and the School System” by Ralph H. Turner if you’re interested in the differences between the American and British systems of education. In short, education is not an independent faction and is generated by the cultural values in any given society) in university. You cannot expect us to be raised in a culture founded on elite values (nitpick with me about this and I swear I will cut you) and then suddenly say ‘okay, we’re all equal and we always need to stay on our toes and be competitive!’ and expect us to change our ideas like that. I feel SMU seems to have meshed these two ideas together, except now you’ve generated a student population that competes with the world while believing themselves to be superior to their own people. Not exactly a good thing to discriminate against your own, sweets.
Yes, the professors can blast away on their high horses that Singaporean culture prohibits kids from speaking up, but I ask again: where is the data? Is there a correlation between being obedient and not speaking up in class? This in itself even seems to operate on the assumption that speaking up in a classroom environment automatically constitutes challenge. What about comments? Questions? The latter was addressed (albeit briefly) in the documentary, and this already shows that it’s not about ‘traditional culture values’. It’s ‘we’re afraid to look stupid’ – a societal value. Is SMU going to change a societal value by implementing an system exclusive to themselves?
I want to share my own experiences in studying in an American institution. If any of you know me, I was born an American, and predominantly raised in Singapore for most of my life. I do consider myself more Singaporean than American. As usual, there is always the obligatory disclaimer that these are my opinions and my experiences, and it cannot be generalized to anyone else. My TL;DR thoughts are my own.
Class participation, to me, is a load of bullshit. That’s the short answer. There is the extremely long, long, LONG answer behind the cut, so be warned.
Emily of Emerald Hill
… And yet again another story of victimization and tragedy. But, oh joy, it’s so much shorter, and more interesting to read.
Emily was an entertaining and bossy woman of the household. If I were to imagine Emily onstage, it would’ve deviated towards the loud, flamboyant type. A play is not complete without humour. Even Shakespeare’s tragedies contained some form of humour – humour is a necessary ingredient to keep the viewers entertained. Since Emily of Emerald Hill is a one-woman play, the quality of humour must be embodied in her.
For this play, the story ’stuck’. One could believe that she was living on Emerald Hill, all the parties she threw and all the food she made all seemed like what the Peranakans did in the 1930s. Fistful of Colours didn’t ’stick’. The characters were thrown into implausible situations, and they all talked about things that we would never do in reality.
I liked the play. Heh, I suppose Singaporeans have a certain flair for the stage. The Campaign to Confer the Public Service Star on JBJ (aka That Political Play) was also quite enjoyable. Rodney was so hot.
Stella Kon also did one major thing: she focused on only one aspect of Singaporean life – the Peranakans. Fistful of Colours attempted to cover everything, making it unfocused and vague. Kon brought us straight to the point, and the entire play was tight and compact. Perhaps it’s the fact that the play was a play. Kon didn’t have the luxury of time, so everything was minimized and was straightfoward. If Lim wrote a play, would it be as equally focused as Stella Kon’s? I don’t know.
But, tragedy is always talk of the day. Son dies, husband leaves her for mistress then dies, the rest of her children don’t want to live in the bigbig house anymore. So she dies a lonely old woman and the play ends with her petting her dead son. If this keeps up, everyone would think Singaporeans die sad, having lived a lonely life fraught with betrayal and tragedy. Aw.
Kon talks about the Peranakan life back then, and makes it believable. She makes history come back to life without making it look like history. She makes it entertaining. Her flashbacks are smooth, the symbolism poignant (like the chair and the pink coat) and the character of Emily herself charismatic and enjoyable.
Yes, I like the play. Score one for Singapore.
Fistful of Colours
by Christine Suchen Lim.
ETA: Okay, guys, this is seriously getting out of hand. Stop plagiarizing my review. If you want to quote, that’s fine, but stop paraphrasing my words and passing it off as your own.
It is an utter waste of paper and ink. Suprising that this terrible ’story’ won a Singapore Literature Prize when it was published (not that a prize concieved in Singapore has any prestige whatsoever). The banality and purple prose exhibited is astounding, and the recollections of her character’s pasts are so ‘tragic’ to the point of ridicule.
One might as well publish a historic account of Singapore, because this book has no story whatsoever. It is recollection after recollection of different families’ ’struggle for survival’, and the author’s attempt to be abstract and philosophical with her book is marred with terrible characterization and once again, the farce that is a ‘tragic past’.
Her characters are not real. They are, in the most part, one dimensional, where you can just stick a label on them and that word constitutes their personality. Suwen = arty-farty author sticking herself into the story (Suchen and Suwen; can’t the comparision be any more obvious?) , Nica = the big flamboyant rebel, Ah Buck = traditional Chinaman, Nica’s father (can’t remember what the hell is his name) = traditional Indianman, and all White Men = Arrogant Superior Blokes. They all serve as mouthpieces for the author, who seems extremely insistent that we have to see a blatant side by side comparison between the old guard and the new.
Victimization seems to be the trend for Singaporean authors. Catherine Lim uses it to great heights, and Christine Suchen Lim seems to want to take a leaf out of the former’s book. It displays a severe lack of originality, and with every single character’s path hindered with failure and obstacles, and the book ends relatively tragically. Rape, bondmaids, rickshaw pullers and towkays? Been there, done that. What is more infuriating is that Lim wants to portray Singapore as realistic as possible, but in doing so, Lim attempts to rope in every single aspect of Singapore life into a single book, which meant that generalizations needed to be made, thus her characterizations. Bondmaids are given the attention of half a chapter, revisited near the end and then forgotten completely.
And – this one really, really got to me – the censoring of the word ‘fuck’. When one uses that word in dialogue – or even a book – one expects every single word to be published in its full glory. Perhaps it is her publisher, or even she chose to censor it herself for god-knows-what symbolism that has yet to take place (and the book was renewed in 2003, so you can’t blame ‘traditional Chinese values’), but the effect washes away any hope of the book being taken seriously. (Not that it was serious in the first place, with passages fraught with purple prose)
It is a good representation of Singapore? On the macro scale, perhaps. Lim has obviously done her research, delving into events in old Singapore that we, as children, do not study in propaganda. However, the details of each event are hazy at best, and Lim runs free rein with this vague summarization of events, choosing to display things in an overly exaggerated light. Unless one knows what really happened in the 1915 Indian mutiny against the British, one must take her accounts with a pinch of salt.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to finish Disney War by James B. Stewart. I like that book. Alot.
