By Mabel Yet (19S03Q) and Varun Karthik (19S06A)

With campaigns about mental health issues popping up all over the world (Singapore included), as well as an unprecedented number of celebrities sharing about their own struggles, our awareness of mental health issues has significantly increased. This progress might have led many of us to assume that we are already well-aware of the misconceptions and stigmas that shroud mental disorders, resulting in our dismissal of the value of mental health campaigns. And for those who are struggling themselves, especially, they would know that mental health can be something inexplicably raw and personal – something which mental health campaigns cannot fully reflect.

Yet, while mental health campaigns might not wholly capture the complexity of mental disorders, they undoubtedly serve as an outlet to start conversations about these sensitive topics we tend to steer away from. Regardless of whether we suffer from mental illnesses, such campaigns lend us the courage to open up about our feelings and seek comfort in the fact that we are not alone.

Some of us might have the notion that people suffering from mental illnesses are few and far between, but research has found that a staggering 1 in 5 young people suffer from a mental illness. For some, this statistic may come as a shock — how can 20% of the people I know have some kind of mental disorder?

Nonetheless, as most of these struggles are too personal to articulate properly and hence kept buried away within the individual, the reality remains that we can never really know. Mental illnesses can manifest in someone you’d least expect. Moreover, few seek help for their illnesses, and even fewer open up about it.

Despite the increased illumination of mental health issues, they are often, nevertheless, kept hushed behind closed doors. In a school setting like RI, especially, our lives are expected to be picture-perfect, and finding a chink in our armour or letting ourselves be vulnerable almost seems like a sin.

This is where the Peer Helpers come in.

Peer Helpers Programme (PHP) is a Monday Elective Programme, which aims to teach participants basic counselling skills and expose them to the spectrum of mental health disorders. They research on a specific mental health issue, which culminates in their annual Mental Health Awareness Week, where they share their projects with the school population through interactive booths and games.

For this year’s Mental Health Awareness Week, which is happening from 23-27 July, students from the PHP aim to not only shed light on mental health disorders, but to also start a dialogue among the student population about the importance of mental health. It hopes to encourage students to open up about their struggles, as well as build a more compassionate and caring school community.

Why the theme ‘feel’?

The word “feel” encapsulates multiple layers of meaning. “To feel would mean to be aware of those around us– their presence, emotions and thoughts,” explained Shakthi (19S03A), Chairperson of PHP, “To not only understand, but empathise with others.” If you are wondering about the meaning behind the logo, Shakthi shares that “the two dots represent the connection between people formed through empathy and feeling for them.”

So what’s going on next week?

Talks

The U and I in Failure — Project U and I

When and where: 25 July (Wednesday), 2.30pm to 4.30pm in the Blue Room

In a talk titled “Let’s Talk About Failure”, project U and I will be calling upon alumni, current students, and a range of other guests to share about their experiences with failure. Having watched countless Ted Talks and motivational clips, many of us might have become desensitized towards the hackneyed topic of overcoming the odds and achieving success. However, one can expect an honest, genuine conversation during this session, as anyone from the floor is free to share about their personal experiences.

Brave Girl Not Eating — Huang Huan Yan

When and where: 27 July (Friday), 12:30pm to 2pm in the mini-LT

The second talk will be by Huang Huan Yan, a member of the senior PHP batch. She will be sharing about her experience dealing with and recovering from her eating disorder. Participants will also receive a copy of her self-written and illustrated book for free.

Canteen Booths

Unable to make it for these talks? Fear not, for there will be booths set up along the canteen walkway throughout the week. As the topic of mental health is both sensitive and complex, PHP hopes to “bring these issues down to earth and present them in digestible and fun activities that people would really enjoy.”

Expect to be educated by the informative, engaging and thought-provoking posters that the Peer Helpers will have on display. Besides posters, students can also look forward to activities ranging from a photo booth simulations of what a synesthete experiences. (We have also heard whispers of a goody bag upon completion of the activities.)

Interpersonal connection

After meeting so many new people through your OGs and new classes, we often face the difficulty of establishing deeper, more personal connections. The hectic timetables and the pile of undone tutorials are not of much help either.

If you want to show your appreciation for your friends, come down to the photobooth at the canteen walkway with them anytime next week. Reconnect with them. Reminisce over old times. Update each other about your lives. And of course snap an Instagram picture while you’re at it.

ASMR

Autonomous sensory meridian response. Probably something you’ve heard of, or have seen on your Youtube Recommended or Spotify playlist. Maybe you’ve even listened to it. But do you truly know what it means and how it correlates to mental health? Head to the booth to have an interactive experience with compilations of ASMR videos and a small booth for a multi-sensory experience of various ASMR triggers.

Heart on my sleeve

‘Heart on My Sleeve’ aims to encourage students to acknowledge their own feelings by getting them to reflect on and express how they feel. After all, the first step to self-regulation of emotions is to be honest with yourself about them. The booth will also feature posters about Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD).

A touch journey

People are often stressed out nowadays, but with the sheer amount of work being one of the reasons why, how can we find the time to de-stress? Physical stress relief provides a quick yet effective way of doing so. From squeezing a stress ball to popping bubble wrap, this project will take you on A Touch Journey of some stress-relieving methods.

Synesthesia: Uniting the senses

Synesthesia is a neurological condition whereby a sense stimulates another sense involuntarily. There are over 80 different types of synesthesia identified to date, and this condition affects roughly 4% of the world population (meaning one of your classmates is likely to be affected by it). By providing simulations of what a synesthete experiences, this booth seeks to raise awareness on this relatively common yet not well-known condition, and allows us to better empathise with those suffering from it.

Pay attention to my ADHD

This booth aims to reduce stigma towards ADHD (Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder), as well as provide important information regarding its types and diagnosis. Given how ADHD is commonly thrown around as a careless joke or insult, it is especially crucial for students to understand the seriousness of the disorder. The Peer Helpers endeavour to spread their message through interactive games and videos which promise to not only educate, but entertain as well.

Project Love Yourself

Body image refers to how someone views the aesthetics or sexual attractiveness of their own body and has become a prevalent issue in society. While we hold people to certain standards of beauty, we tend to be harsher on ourselves and this culminates in effects such as low self esteem and disordered eating. This project aims to encourage students to appreciate their flaws as much as what they perceive to be their plus points, so that they can learn to truly embrace themselves.

Perhaps one mere week cannot fully shed light upon mental health issues or eradicate the stigma it is associated with, but it serves as a reminder for us to love ourselves and others in our daily hustle. Do participate in the activities happening next week with an open heart and mind– you will be surprised at how much you will gain.

By Phang Yeu Yeou (19A01A) and Loh Lin (19A01D)

Wait. Before you continue scrolling, we know. We know that race as a topic has already been discussed to death, in conversations and lectures and forums alike. Nonetheless, the shoulds and shouldn’ts of tackling such discourse continue to confound us, even as we turn away from it, thinking: What more is there to discuss that hasn’t already been said?

After all, 54 years on from the racial riots that left an indelible footprint in our history — in bloodshed and in policy — racism in Singapore seems by and large a thing of the past. Indeed, today people of all races coexist peaceably in classrooms, offices, and shared public spaces. Long-term governmental policies and a consistent multicultural narrative have gone a long way towards easing the hostilities and divisiveness that once defined race relations. Yet, when we reduce acts of racism to just these overt indicators, we risk turning a blind eye to the more implicit tensions that continue to underscore our interactions.

Racial Harmony Day is by far the most prominent attempt at engaging Singaporeans in this racial discourse, pushing out school-based activities to cultivate a nuanced appreciation of race from a young age. In RI, this took the form of tins of biscuits and other tidbits distributed to each class just this Wednesday. While good news for the ever-hungry students, the occasion that engendered these snacks in the first place seemed to have been placed on the backburner, a secondary concern to physical satiation rather than the focus of Civics lessons it was intended to be. The snacks themselves were labelled only with their ingredients, not their names nor their heritage. Noticeably, most students were otherwise too preoccupied with the food to question their origin.

When activities such as these are stripped of their cultural context, and when they generate a response as nonchalant as this, can they really be said to be effective towards strengthening cross-cultural appreciation?

The function of these activities then becomes more ritual than educational, perhaps dangerously so. Racism doesn’t just manifest itself in outright prejudice; it expresses itself also in our complacency that we know enough, and in our inertia to take the initiative to learn more about other cultures. Racial harmony goes beyond mere acceptance — we can’t truly claim racial harmony if understanding isn’t present.

Lesson time was also set aside for students to respond to questions that deconstructed relations between the different racial communities. How we should show that we appreciate the people in other communities and understand their practices, as well as how we should foster stronger bonds between communities, were all called into question. Although a good effort at prompting conversations about race, many thought that the questions overlapped, and parroted the same answers of “empathise more”, “participate in racial harmony events”, and “ask questions”  to all.

Where the issue arose and where the lines blurred was the request to come up with actionable steps to address these aspects of racial harmony separately. The various aspects of racial harmony cannot be cultivated in a vacuum. Rather, even discrete actions produce indiscrete effects, and this holds especially true for complex socio-cultural issues like racial harmony.

Despite the potential for instigating understanding intrinsic in discourse, asking the right questions is just as important as a desire to engage others in conversation, and here discourse proved to be more cursory than illuminating.

In other schools, particularly at the primary and secondary school level, students are encouraged to turn up in ethnic dress on the day of Racial Harmony celebrations. Leaving aside the international controversy surrounding cultural appropriation, most would agree that it would be preferable for those who choose to don ethnic attire to be greater educated about its significance — even though collective ethnic identity cannot be distilled into a costume, no matter how symbolic.

Despite the gaps in these measures, all of this still paints a heartening picture — one that speaks of diversity with ease, that shows that we are able to laugh alongside one another in spite of our differences. It is proof that there are things being done to ensure we never again return to that era of violence and bloodshed.

Nonetheless, we as individuals are more than capable of empowering ourselves without institutional help in this regard. Through constantly questioning and pushing for more, we can work on refining our own beliefs and the beliefs of those around us to address the inevitable systemic gaps arising from a top-down approach.

“The younger ones have only known peace and harmony in Singapore, and it is very easy to believe that race does not matter anymore. But this is not so. We have to know our blind spots, and make a special effort to ensure our minority communities feel welcomed and valued in Singapore.”

– Prime Minister Lee Hsien Loong in his speech at PA Kopitalk on September 23 2017.

Perhaps we can start with a familiar question that often haunts us as we go through our humdrum routine of everyday life: are we doing enough? But this time, this question doesn’t seek to challenge our personal growth, or measure our accomplishments — rather, are we doing enough to learn about the people around us? What more can we do? Can we challenge preconceived assumptions we’ve developed about the people closest to us? What about those more removed from our immediate narratives?

Of course, it must be acknowledged that we are provided other platforms to engage one another in dialogue over such issues. That said, it might not be in our best interests to wait for such programmes to kick us into action. Even amidst the circumspect OB markers guarding this sphere of discourse, and even if we are wary of treading on toes with our own incomplete understanding, there remains probing to be done. Probing that we can initiate ourselves in everyday life, even in the absence of overt prompting activities.

At the end of the day, there are endless activities the school can provide us with. And we can chug along and point out gaps in institutional programmes, criticise them, or suggest change, as we are wont to do. But maybe sometimes we too have to take a step back, work with what we are given — flaws and all — and take it upon ourselves to reach out of our own accord.

By Soh Ying Qi (18A01C)

It’s safe to say that this is not a safe topic.

(The preceding sentence, ironically, may be the only one in this article that’s truly uncontroversial.)

It’s nebulous and complicated and resistant to simplification. It’s hard to discuss sensitively, and even harder to discuss meaningfully. Basically: the odds were stacked against it from the beginning.

So this article won’t change the world. It might not even change your mind. But at the very least, it’ll probably change the way you view “race”, for better or for worse.

What is “race”, anyway?

First, it’s important to define—and distinguish—two key terms which are often conflated: racism and Chinese privilege. Most of us agree that both are undesirable, but few can pinpoint the complex relationship between them, much less the nuanced differences in meaning.

It’s near-impossible to define racism without referring to “race”; yet the latter is often described as a problematic concept. Its scientific basis is often questionable; though we may assume that it stems from biological differences between different groups, evidence shows that this is not the case, even on a genetic level.

As expressed by a quote from RI’s own S. Rajaratnam block:

Racism, however, is something deeper. In a survey conducted for this article, when asked to define racism, 54% (of 50 respondents) cited “discrimination” as an key factor. Hence, we can define it as discrimination based on the social construct of “race”, resulting in unequal treatment that is concrete, unlike the concept from which it stems.

Chinese privilege is slightly more straightforward. “I define Chinese privilege similarly as White privilege, [by] analogy,” said Singaporean independent scholar and activist Sangeetha Thanapal, who coined the term. “It goes beyond advantages people enjoy because of their race. It is also the unearned power the system confers by virtue of your race alone. It is a set of institutional benefits, with greater access to power and resources and opportunity, that are closed off to those who do not have it.”

What makes Chinese privilege so insidious is the fact that it is largely invisible to Chinese Singaporeans, as writer Yuen Sin describes: “Growing up in Singapore, I navigated everyday life unmarked by my race. I never had to explain away how I looked, or ever felt alienated by a group because of my ethnicity.” It becomes problematic when those who have it are unaware of its existence, and therefore unable—or unwilling—to tackle it.

Defining these terms in this way comes with its own set of implications: principally, the considerable nuance embedded in them affects our perception of problems that arise in relation. As our understanding of these complex issues evolves, it therefore alters our approach to the discourse surrounding them, including this very article.

How does Chinese privilege come about?

In the 2010 census, 74% of Singapore’s population identified as Chinese. In view of this, it is undeniable that society—and its institutions, norms and structure—are shaped, to some extent, by this overwhelming demographic majority.

When majority considerations heavily dictate the way society is organised, issues arise that may negatively affect ethnic minorities (albeit in different ways and to differing degrees). In this way, unequal treatment manifests on a societal level. This includes, but is not limited to, differences in education, housing and career opportunities.

For example, in education, initiatives like the Special Assistance Plan (SAP) and Bicultural Studies Programme Scholarship are designed specifically to serve the Chinese community. While some programmes like the Elective Programme for Malay Language in Secondary Schools (EMAS) are essentially equivalent to the SAP, their comparatively smaller scale—EMAS is offered in only three secondary schools, versus the SAP’s 11 secondary schools and 15 primary schools—may reduce their accessibility to all members of a community.

On paper, this clear disparity certainly shows unequal distribution of resources. However, it is worth noting that “unequal” does not always mean “unfair”. Given that Chinese students make up the majority of any cohort, one could plausibly argue that it is justified in view of demographics. In absolute terms, demand for Chinese-language programmes is higher; hence, in absolute terms, more Chinese-language programmes will be provided.

In this way, one begins to understand the pitfalls of over-simplifying the complex issue of “race”. “Minorities just have fewer numbers, and economies of scale means that it’s hard to pass similar policies,” one student asserted. Another respondent agreed, saying that “certain things that may be construed as racism in institutional settings could be a result of structural limitations.”

If that’s the case, how do we know racism and Chinese privilege exist?

In a 2016 survey conducted by Channel NewsAsia and the Institute of Policy Studies, a majority of non-Chinese respondents agreed that being of the majority race is an advantage in Singapore. In addition, “Two-thirds of Malay and Indian respondents who had experienced such differential treatment claimed that race was the basis of such treatment”.

Besides taking place on an institutional level, such problems are also evident in the microaggressions perpetuated against ethnic minorities, along with the clear structural advantages afforded to Chinese Singaporeans. One of the most high-profile examples in recent memory involved actor Shrey Bhargava—himself an RI alumnus—being told to act like a “full-blown Indian man” at an audition.

His experience is not without precedent. In a study on Ethnic Representation on Singapore Film and Television, researcher Kenneth Paul Tan identifies two distinct categories and three subcategories of depictions of Chinese Singaporeans, varying according to factors like educational background and spoken language. However, ethnic minorities are not afforded the same diversity in representation: “Malays”, “Indians” and “Eurasians” are all-encompassing categories that seem to treat ethnic minorities in film as monoliths. The fact that the cultural and linguistic differences within the Chinese community are acknowledged while minorities in media are considered representative of their own (diverse) ethnic groups is a cause for concern.

Given this evidence, it becomes clear that racism and Chinese privilege are present in many different aspects of society. The fact that 60% of respondents said they had heard racist comments shows that such incidents are not isolated, but rather occur frequently on a societal level.

Within the smaller community of RI, many respondents described their experiences of “race”-based insensitivity, attributing them to racist stereotypes, alienation from Chinese-majority environments and plain ignorance.

One student (who identifies as Indian) said, “I don’t think people in general, especially my fellow students, do these things with ill intentions… I just wish they’d try to see things with a wider perspective.”

Why, then, might this perspective be lacking? For one, Chinese privilege as a “race”-based concept, ironically, means rarely ever having to think about “race”. It means being considered the societal norm, the standard to which “everyone else” is compared, the “default” idea of what it means to be Singaporean.

In theory, some inequality is inevitable in any society that is not perfectly homogeneous. But Chinese privilege is more than that: it is a system of individually small but collectively significant concessions afforded to the Chinese community. Over time, their systemic nature creates the illusion of normalcy: as a society, we refrain from questioning them and start to believe that this is simply the way things are.

For example: how often do we in the Chinese community break into Mandarin among ourselves, even when non-Mandarin-speaking minority friends are present? (Of course, it is worth remembering that not every Chinese person speaks Mandarin or has a desire to.) While we may argue that lapses like these are largely unintentional, the alienation that ethnic minorities feel as a result is very real.

This is in line with the linguistic theory of accommodation espoused by Giles and Wiemann (1987), wherein the choice to use a different dialect or language helps such speakers express their non-conformity, and distinguish themselves from “mainstream” society. The effect is an assertion of identity to increase in-group solidarity while excluding those who—quite literally—do not speak the language of the group.

In a study on the school lives of female Normal stream students, researcher Trivina Kang found that “For the Chinese respondents, speaking in Mandarin demonstrates to the other ethnic groups that they are the dominant group in school and there is no real need for them to mix with those from other ethnic backgrounds if they choose not to.” Given the heterogeneity and size of the Chinese community in Singapore, it would be impossible to generalise about all Chinese people based on this finding. Yet it indicates the considerable social power wielded by the community as a whole, illustrating how privilege can be used to intentionally exclude those who are deemed different.

What is currently being done?

In the survey disseminated to students in RI, perceptions of the school’s efforts at handling “race” relations were varied:

Among interviewees, the general consensus was that RI’s initiatives, while commendable, leave some room for improvement. For example, annual Lunar New Year events are organised for Chinese students to celebrate, but other cultural festivals such as Hari Raya Puasa and Deepavali largely do not receive the same treatment.

However, they agreed that it has not barred students from forging friendships themselves, nor condoned open discrimination. Some attempts at promoting cultural understanding were noted, such as last year’s sharing on Deepavali during hall assembly.

On a national level, efforts to inculcate racial harmony as a shared value beginning in childhood are evident in the Civics and Moral Education (CME) programme and subjects like Social Studies and History, according to the Ministry of Education. Other measures, such as organised dialogues and creating more opportunities for inter-ethnic interaction, are also in the pipeline at the Public Service Division (PSD).

Are current measures effective? How can we improve them?

However, the continued presence of these problems despite such measures may indicate that their effectiveness is somewhat limited.

For instance, the PSD asserts that “Despite guidelines from the Tripartite Alliance for Fair and Progressive Employment Practices (TAFEP) that job candidates be selected based on criteria necessary for the role, incidents of discriminatory hiring still occur.” In one of the best-known examples of such practices, a Malay job applicant was told by a hiring manager at PrimaDeli that she was not suitable for the job based on her ethnicity.

In the area of housing, ethnic quotas for HDB flats help to ensure diversity within neighbourhoods. However, there is evidence that Singapore’s rental market continues to discriminate against non-Chinese applicants; for instance, a survey by rental site 99.co found that users experienced racial discrimination 20% of the time.

Some of these persistent discriminatory practices may be attributed to internal issues that are difficult to rectify with top-down methods. Racism and Chinese privilege are systemic issues, and it is perhaps unrealistic to expect any single measure or set of measures to completely eradicate problems that are so deeply ingrained in the fabric of society.

However, it is worth noting that a majority of Singaporeans support current policies aimed at fostering multiculturalism; in the CNA-IPS survey, 70% indicated that they “view[ed] various policies meant to safeguard racial and religious harmony positively.” This has encouraging implications on our willingness to participate in them and hence boost their effectiveness.

What else can we do?

Several interviewees asserted that bottom-up approaches, such as engaging in dialogues with friends of other ethnicities, were essential to complementing the government’s top-down strategies. “Conversations are a bit overdone… But I do think that in this case they are warranted,” argued Phang Yeu Yeou (19A01A), citing the relative lack of discussion currently surrounding the issue vis-à-vis larger-scale topics like gender equality. “It would be good to create an avenue where such conversations exist, like Civics lessons.”

However, society should keep in mind that such discussions must be handled with tact and sensitivity. In the CNA-IPS survey, “two-thirds of respondents find it hard to talk about race issues and think such dialogue can cause tension”, as reported by The Straits Times. For example, the divisiveness of the Shrey Bhargava case and society’s inability to reach a consensus on it indicate that we have a long way to go towards constructive and productive discussion.

“What I would like to see is my peers sharing their experience with their own culture, because I think the experience of being a minority changes with each generation,” Natasha Rae Zuzarte (18A01B) suggested. “I think the most important thing is understanding and respect. It’s fine not to know everything about other races (as a majority or minority), but the underlying attitude should be one of acceptance.”

There is indeed much to be learnt about the different ethnic communities in Singapore, in view of the considerable diversity within each one. (Ironically, given how often I’ve used the phrase “Chinese people” in this article, it’s worth noting that even the Chinese community is itself not homogeneous or monolithic, and it is impossible to generalise the experiences of everyone included in it.)

Of Singaporeans who do not interact with people of other ethnicities, IPS researcher Mathew Mathews said, “Their apathy will hinder cohesion in Singapore’s multiracial society in the long run.” To truly move forward on the issues of racism and Chinese privilege, we as a society must first enrich our understanding of each other’s’ cultures, languages, traditions and more. This will prevent harmful stereotypes from taking root and hindering social progress.

Conclusion

In the process of writing this article, people have sometimes asked why I’m doing this. After all, I’ll never be able to provide the nuanced viewpoint that comes with personally experiencing racism, and I’m not really saying anything that hasn’t already been said by minorities themselves.

But in those times, I think about this quote by former Iranian prime minister Mohammad Mossadegh that’s stuck with me:

“If I sit silently, I have sinned.”

Sure, I’m not hurling racial slurs at people on the street. I could easily convince myself that I’m “not racist”. It’s nice to live life believing you’re “not racist”, that you treat everyone “equally”, that you just “don’t see race”. But unless we all commit to examining our biases, it’s just not the truth.

If I choose to keep quiet and condone them, then I think that makes me part of the problem. When we, the Chinese community, fail to stand up against injustice out of fear or self-preservation, we allow it to continue hurting others—people for whom “racism” is not just a buzzword but a daily reality.

If we truly want to make Singapore a better place for all, we need to act on it instead of standing by and professing our innocence. As Thanapal powerfully points out, “whatever repercussions you may face, you will never be on the receiving end of as much hatred and ignorance as those talking about this without the safety of their privilege.”

I’ll close with this quote from the Raja block:

This is bigger than me. It’s bigger than all of us. But that just means it’ll take every last one of us working together to make a positive change.

Views expressed here are those of the writer and the students quoted, and are not endorsed by Raffles Press or the Institution. To respond to this article, please leave a comment below or contact Raffles Press at this page.

By Aaron Tan (19A01B) and Phang Yeu Yeou (19A01A)
Photos by Raffles Photographic Society

Terse, straight-spined, the members of the 37th students’ council sat onstage as schoolmates poured in to witness the 2018 Students’ Council Investiture. The day, for them, was bittersweet. It marked the end of a journey – their journey of service – fraught with trials but of equal part reward. And today, that journey begins anew for the 38th – today, the baton changes hands, borne ceaselessly forward in the ebb of aspiration. Today, brave new leaders step up to bear that gryphon torch, to serve and shine forth.

This year’s theme was Ka38idoscope, a fusion of the number 38 (It was the investiture of the 38th Students’ Council, after all) and the word “kaleidoscope”. Coined in 1817 by Scottish inventor David Brewster, “kaleidoscope” is partly derived from the Ancient Greek καλός (kalos) – “beautiful, beauty”. A unique beauty, perhaps, perfectly represented in how each Rafflesian brings with them their own color and shape. Their talents, experience, personality; their own unique identities – all these and more combine to form a vibrant, beautiful whole that is Raffles. Just as how, when viewed through a hole bored through its end, shards of coloured glass within the kaleidoscope form a dazzling burst of hues.

Soon, the ceremony began. To throes of applause our guest-of-honour, Mr Jonathan Lim, was escorted into the hall. Mr Lim, an assistant superintendent at the Singapore Police Force, was himself once a part of the Students’ Council. Taking the lectern, he spoke of his past experiences as a student councillor.

“There will be many frustrations,” he warned. But in the end, he promised, greater rewards would follow. He issued the 38th students’ council a challenge – to make this temporary school experience a permanent one, one which will live on in the heart of every Rafflesian. To serve in the council, to him, is a chance to make a difference

President of the 37th Students’ Council Beverly Fu (18S03Q) was the next to take the podium. Delivering her speech with poise, Beverly recounted how she was asked many questions over the course of her last few days as Council President. As a leader, she learnt the importance of getting comfortable with questions that have no clear answers. Calling it a humbling experience, she thanked the batch for their work and emphasised how lucky she was to work with and walk this leadership journey together with them. To serve in the council, to her, is also to learn.

Following the speech, the certificate ceremony commenced. Each member of the outgoing student council was presented with a certificate acknowledging them for their service.

The lights dimmed as a heartfelt video dedicated to the 37th student’s council, produced and edited by members of the 38th students’ council, was then played. In it, members reminisced and thanked their predecessors for their service and counsel – a tribute to their influence, impact and guidance.

Next came the traditional Blazer ceremony. Standing in a row, members of the 37th Students’ council draped their juniors’ blazers over their shoulders to thunderous applause. “I had lots of trouble with the buttons, and was still trying to button my blazer when everyone [else] was already done,” recalled CCAD Head Chloe Teo (19S03A), “it’s cool that we’re donning our blazers for the first time together as a batch … it was symbolic of the beginning of handover.

The incoming councillors were then presented with their badges. Now donning their blazers and bearing their badges – symbols of their leadership – the transition of responsibility from the previous council to the next was cemented.

38th Students’ Council President Chew Jay Hong (19A13A) then took the podium to deliver his first address as Council President. In his emphatic speech, Jay Hong outlined his vision for the school, encapsulated in the three ‘C’s: Communication, Consolidation and Culture, pledging to increase the frequency of town hall meetings and feedback drives, to build upon the legacy of previous batches, and to foster a greater sense of community and school spirit.

In addition, Jay Hong emphasised the importance of collaboration within the student council itself. “For the 60 of us here on stage,” he said, “each and every one of us play a key role in keeping the cogs of the council moving, just like clockwork, and that as one council, we will support one another through the challenges that will come our way.”

“I’m proud to be part of this team, and let’s make this year one to remember, in the hope of a better age.”

Once Jay Hong had completed his speech, the councillors took their positions for the Council Oath. Led by Vice Presidents Jin Xuan (19A01B) and Hui Ying (19S06O), the council delivered the oath with great gusto. And indeed it made, as Hui Ying put it, “the responsibilities [of the council] seem more final”.

***

Now, the ceremony ends, as always, with the Institution Anthem and the Unite cheer. As the students are dismissed and begin to make their journey home – an entirely different journey is just beginning for the 38th student council. A journey much longer, much harder and, perhaps, a little more abstract. One of leadership and service, of late nights and long hours, of struggle – but also of reward. It’s a long road ahead. It is a road that will undoubtedly be fraught with difficulty and uncertainty. Two months into their term, it is apparent the newly elected student council is steady in their zeal and determination to do good for the school.

By Aaron Tan (19A01B)

It was at South by Southwest 2017, one of the largest annual conglomerates of film, interactive media, and music conferences in the world, that cinematic legend Steven Spielberg stepped onstage to debut his latest feature: Ready Player One.

The sci-fi CG bonanza, based on the titular New York Times bestseller by Ernest Cline, was one of the most anticipated movies of the year, not least by pop-culture aficionados all around the globe. It promised to be a rollicking adventure through virtual reality,  with one single, central goal — to entertain.

“This is not a film that we’ve made,” Spielberg quipped to the sold-out audience of the Paramount Theatre. “This is — I promise you — a movie.”

And the crowd went wild.

***

Ready Player One is a topical tale of virtual reality – of the place where reality and fantasy intersects: the OASIS. It is a digital world born from the imagination of awkward VR entrepreneur James Halliday, one which has supplanted a drab and desolate reality; Populations are glued to their headsets, strapped to their haptic rigs. When Halliday dies, he leaves behind “Anorak’s Quest”, an OASIS-wide hunt for three keys hidden behind three fiendish challenges. The first to complete the quest will be granted full ownership of the OASIS.

And so we follow the 18-year-old orphan Perzival (real name Wade Watts) and his friends as they race through the OASIS against the nefarious capitalist Nolan Sorrento, CEO of the sinister IOI corporation, to complete the quest and gain ownership of the virtual world.

It was around 11.20am when I sat down to watch Ready Player One, popcorn in hand, ready to be blown away by the spectacle. Spectacle which, for the most part, it delivered. Amidst the hackneyed cliches, questionable plotting, a sometimes frustrating naivete (that, I must admit, was most likely an intentional choice); Amidst “clues” that required more reaching than a Nintendo Ultra Hand could help with to crack, was a competently directed action romp which excels in its visual flair and kinetic energy.

If you want an example of a great action setpiece, look no further than the frenzied first-act Formula-1, a perilous race for the first key. Our hero Wade “Parzival” Watts revs up his DeLorean, while partner-in-crime-slash-obligatory-romantic- interest Art3mis’ readies her replica of the iconic red bike from Akira, as they join dozens of others through a breathtaking vehicular thrillride involving mass destruction, King Kong, and the T-rex from Jurassic Park. Sweeping camerawork and masterful blocking combine to form a sequence with the tremendous visual momentum, weight, and flow you would expect from the man behind Duel and Raiders of the Lost Ark.

The climax, a slew of relentless action sequences masterfully strung together, like dominoes falling one after the other, was also incredibly satisfying to behold.

All in all, skillful editing and brilliant visual effects make for a thoroughly entertaining joyride, a foremost exemplar of big-budget entertainment. Of course, a three-way giant robot battle between the Iron Giant, Gundam and Mechagodzilla didn’t hurt, either.

Yet, I would be Ern-Clined to say (ha ha), there is something missing: a convincing thematic and emotional core. Sure, Spielberg has wisely elected to include a side story of lost love and things left behind (complete with a childhood throwback scenario and appropriately sentimental score. Oh, and my secret favourite scene in the movie, the zombie ballroom dance, set to Midnight, the Stars and You from The Shining. Yes, I have a weakness for old-timey easy listening. And what a fantastic marriage of audiovisual dissonance and assonance. But I digress.) There is a thematic core of reality versus fantasy, and knowing where to get off.

But the emotional beats feel contrived and not earned, the romance laughably forgettable, the themes shallow and poorly-explored.

And yet, for all its flaws, Ready Player One was a major hit. It was generally well-received by critics, with, according to review aggregator Rotten Tomatoes, 73% of critics giving it a positive review. Audiences, too loved it. Audiences polled by CinemaScore gave the film an average grade of “A–” on an A+ to F scale, while PostTrak reported filmgoers gave it an 82% overall positive score and a 65% “definite recommend”.

This raises an interesting question, one that the world of cinema is grappling with more than ever before – is it enough to be entertained?

***

Steven Allan Spielberg was born on December 18, 1946, in the city of Cincinnati, Ohio. Born to a restaurateur and concert pianist (his mother) and an electrical engineer (his father), Spielberg moved early in his life to New Jersey, then Arizona, where young Spielberg spent most of his days an anxious child, uneasy with his Orthodox Jewish heritage, dealing with domestic volatility (his parents eventually split in his last year of high school), ear pressed against the television set where he heard voices calling to him amidst the static. Cheery on the outside and nerve-wracked on the inside, according to biographer Molly Haskell. The nervous, nail-biting child observing the adults around him yet inwardly keeping his distance.

It was not long after he moved to Arizona that he inherited his father’s 8mm movie camera, and was tasked with filming the family’s vacations. In 1958 when the 12-year-old Spielberg became a Boy Scout, he directed his first film to earn a photography badge – a 9 minute western he named The Last Gunfight. “I made it and got my merit badge,” recalled Spielberg warmly, years later. “That was how it all started.”

***

Is it enough to be entertained? It is a question that, beloved as he is, has plagued Spielberg ever since he ushered in the age of the big-budget Hollywood blockbuster with his 1975 thriller Jaws. William S. Pechter of Commentary, for example, described Jaws as “a mind-numbing repast for sense-sated gluttons” and “filmmaking of this essentially manipulative sort”; Haskell herself similarly characterized it as a “scare machine that works with computer-like precision… You feel like a rat, being given shock therapy”.

Contrived. Commercialised. Populist. Many of Spielberg’s films have been criticised for all these and more. They are characterised as sentimentalist, hollow – more of a feast for the senses than the soul. “If you ever glance at the cinema listings and wonder why there’s nothing the even vaguely mature might want to see, blame Spielberg,” wrote author Christopher Bray in a particularly scathing essay.

It is an issue modern cinema, which Spielberg helped shape, is struggling with. As movies get bigger, more spectacular and more expensive to make, so too do studios need to get more tickets sold – and to get more tickets sold, they attempt to craft movies that will appeal to the largest crowd – the largest market – an art Spielberg himself has perfected. One could argue, as Bray did, that Spielberg had in fact unleashed upon the world of cinema an age where sterile, populist filmmaking dominates. For many, it is a cause for lament.

***

If he were alive today, one suspects that German philosopher Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel would be among those who share these sentiments. A towering figure in Western philosophy, Hegel is perhaps best known for the development of his “Absolute Idealism”, as well as being the principal originator of the thesis, antithesis, synthesis triad (now you know who to thank). Of course, he too had plenty to say about art and entertainment.

“Art”, to Hegel, was “As simply a mode of revealing to consciousness and bringing utterance to the Divine, the deepest interests of humanity and the most comprehensive truths of the mind”. In other words, Hegel believed art’s true function was to give expression to a divine and human freedom, paradoxically through the servitude to God, Truth and the Ideal. Art, according to Hegel, not only elevates us but grounds us in understanding and expressing the fundamental truth and nature of humanity.

It is not surprising, then, that he would scoff at what we would be familiar with as entertainment – which he called “A fleeting game in the service of pleasure”, of “life-related pleasantness” – an inferior realm that bows to base, biological, external needs. Entertainment, to Hegel, is identified with what is unworthy of the name of “art”.

A realm that values pleasure over truth and beauty. Just as the OASIS was a pleasurable escape from reality in the world of Ready Player One, a realm in which you could do anything, a realm in which, despite (and perhaps thanks to) the freedom Halliday bestowed upon its inhabitants, was enraptured and enslaved by worldly pleasure. Hegel, as does (rather ironically) Ready Player One, urged us to remove our headsets and to engage ourselves in a greater truth.

Helen Arendt, German-born American philosopher, expands on the idea of true art as transcending basic means and functions, as transcending mortal life. Just like sleeping and eating, Arendt viewed entertainment as just another part of the ‘biological’ life process”, which is a “metabolism” of consumption.

On the other hand, true art stood outside the realm and needs of “biological life”, its beauty and value beyond all function, inhabiting an immortal realm of freedom. To Arendt, entertainment was a mere “means” that only served to sustain and improve human life, whereas artworks were pure ends, things of “intrinsic, independent worth”, that will outlast the lifespan of mortals. Things that are grander and more important than the momentary, temporal pleasure of entertainment.

To her, the entertainment industry was a threat. One that corrupts the permanent, immortal, transcendent beauty of true art, turning it into mere commodities of human consumption, into simply temporal and worldly pleasure.

To modern cinephiles, this philosophy is damning. Gone are the days when mainstream filmmakers dared to push the boundaries, to deeply examine themselves, to search for and express truths of the human world and the medium itself. Gone are the days before it became all about profit, and ticket-sales and box-office charts, before it became populist, sterile, diluted. Made by committee. On an assembly line. By stooges on a studio’s leash.

Before it became all about “entertainment”.

***

Spielberg has always had a strong sense of purpose and direction. After The Last Gunfight, the young Spielberg moved on to bigger and more ambitious projects. His next movie, which he wrote and directed at 13 years of age, was the 40-minute-long war film Escape to Nowhere, the cast comprised of his friends from high school. His projects only continued to grow in size and scope, and by the age of 20 he already had a good idea of just what kind of a filmmaker he wanted to be.

“I don’t want to make films like Antonioni or Fellini. I don’t want just the elite,” he told a student journalist. “I want everybody to enjoy my films.”

It is a sentiment he has carried with him through his career, and one that has divided as much as delighted. But to say that his movies, movies that have moved millions of hearts and inspired many more (Spielberg’s, for one, is the most cited name in Academy Award thank-you speeches), are not enough, sounds… not quite right.

Spielberg likes to make up stories for his grandchildren. “They’re all stories of empowerment, and being magical or able to read your mom and dad’s mind, or your best friend being a Tyrannosaurus Rex that only you know about and he lives in your backyard,” he explained excitedly to a reporter from The Guardian.

“It’s all about making kids feel like they can do anything. That nothing’s impossible.”

Perhaps the reason one finds it difficult to criticise Spielberg’s work is the way it speaks to our inner child, the way it speaks to his own, the way it speaks to that precocious 12-year-old in Arizona, ear pressed against the television set, holding his father’s camera

Perhaps, in a way, we are all Spielberg’s grandchildren.

***

What then is the role of human pleasure in art? Is it, as Hegel and Arendt might posit, a lower form? A corrupting influence that reduces art to mere life-related inconsequentiality, temporal amusement devoid of the eternal and essential truth and beauty that all true art should strive toward?

Not to Richard Shusterman.

Shusterman, an American aestheticist, has a slightly different take on entertainment. In opposition to Arendt’s dismissal of entertainment as a mortal slave to human life, he writes in his essay Entertainment: A Question for Aesthetics: “Human life is always more than biological, it intrinsically involves meaning, making and conduct. And what would the world of culture be without human life and the experience of mortal people to animate it? A collection of things that are lifeless rather than immortal.”

And indeed, Why should human pleasure be demeaned, relegated to the ash-heap of aesthetics? For all art is personal; It comes from the heart of the human individual. And yet, would we so willingly disregard the value of human emotion? Of love, of excitement, of the gleam in one’s eye as adrenaline courses through one’s veins? Laughter and joy. Pain and pleasure. That we should abandon the beauty of the human experience with all of its fleeting feelings in search of an unfeeling “truth” (as if it even existed!), eternal as the heavens yet just as cold?

For what it means to live is to feel, and to experience all the joys and pleasures of life, temporal as they may be. Indeed, to quote Shusterman, “By refusing to equate reality with permanence, it recognises that short-lived loveliness or brief spasms of delight are no less real or moving or cherished because they are momentary. Indeed, most pleasures of beauty, art and entertainment are not only valuable without being everlasting, but are more valuable because they are not.”

Just as a flower, come and gone within days is but for that moment in time – just that one moment, beautiful. And if we could prolong that beauty for just a second more, what human being would not try?

***

The credits rolled and the lights flickered on. I tossed my empty box of popcorn into the waste bin as I left the cinema, on my way to get one of those “decent meals” Halliday spoke of. And as I walked, gathering my thoughts, I wondered what I would write for this “review” (if you could even call it one anymore). Trite and tired three-act plot structure, maybe? Cardboard characters. Images that, while vibrant, were not striking. An artificiality and contrivance that betrayed its most human moments. A facile approach to a potentially interesting premise, naive and saccharine.

It was the way this potentially rich (and topical) thematic core was squandered with surface-level storytelling that irked me the most. With Ready Player One, Spielberg chose to tiptoe around the big questions, laying down no more than a few easy, playful jabs in a movie that really said nothing much of value at all. Fittingly, it was a movie obfuscated by fantasy, drowned in candy coloured, computer-generated spectacle.

To be sure, it is nowhere near one of Spielberg’s finest works. And yet, there was something quintessentially Spielbergian about what I had just witnessed. I was swept away in the flow of the action. The giddy rush of adrenaline was a near-constant, from the race to the climactic clash between the citizens of the world and the sinister IOI corporation. While the movie came up empty-handed in many aspects, I can’t deny that I enjoyed it.

J.G. Ballard, whose memoir-novel Empire of the Sun was adapted by Spielberg back in 1987, once wrote: “The qualities that the cineastes see as weaknesses, I see as Spielberg’s strengths, and as the reason why he is one of today’s most important filmmakers… In many ways Spielberg is the Puccini of cinema, one of the highest compliments I can pay. He may be a little too sweet for some tastes, but what melodies, what orchestrations, what cathedrals of emotion.”

False dichotomy aside (we don’t have world enough and time for that today, though I’d love to talk about it), not every movie has to be an Amblin Production. Not every movie should be an Amblin Production. We need films that are incisive and provocative, films that dare to push the envelope. We need films that probe the human essence, we need films that are of the eternal beauty of truth. We need all those and more, because they inform us what it means to be human, because it instills within us empathy for the wandering souls drifting past, because they help us navigate the complexities and contradictions of life in this world. We need those movies because they tell us about ourselves.

And yet, we need movies like Spielberg’s more than ever. Even our hero Perzival recognised the value of escapism and entertainment, leaving the OASIS open on every day but two. Here are movies with the power to unite masses, to inspire, to excite, to ignite, to dare us to dream. Movies that thrill and move hearts. Movies that may not last, but bring us joy all the same.

“Films”, and “movies” too. We need them both.

And who knows? There, somewhere in the audience, might be a 12 year old child, father’s camera in hand, desperately wanting to know that they, too, can do anything. That nothing is impossible.

By Lim Jing Rong (18A03A), Phang Yeu Yeou (19A01A), Caryn Chia (19A01A)
Photos courtesy of Amy Lin (19A01B), Kathryn Oei (19A01A), Andrew Yap (19S06Q) and Tian Ruiying (19S05B) of Raffles Photographic Society

“Doors, sardines, and a lot of fun” — this absurdist marriage of words is actually the synopsis to Noises Off!, a metaphysical play-within-a-play, and a tongue-in-cheek meditation on the melodrama that spills over the stage and seeps into actors’ very lives. Put up by Raffles Players, cast members played actors in a touring troupe playing characters in a farce, Nothing On.

As the lights in the PAC dimmed on 12th May, loud chatter quickly subdued into quiet murmurs of anticipation. The red curtains parted, and a sprawling two-tier eight-door set was revealed to the audience. We were about to witness the cast and crew of Raffles Players perform Noises Off! — a comedic exercise in skill and ingenuity, and a bold defiance of gravity (or so we were told).

Act 1

From the very first line, the audience knew this was not going to be a student play of the usual sombre variety. We watched the middle-aged Dotty, played by Zara Karimi (18A01A), get flustered about flubbed lines and missing plates of sardines (sardines feature very prominently in this play), and laughed as Lloyd, the on-stage director played by Jayden Yap (18S03E), grew increasingly frustrated with her inability to remember her many cues.

Throughout Act 1, we watched the cast of Nothing On struggle to get their act together the night before their first performance. As the (fictional) night progressed, characters repeatedly interrupted the dress rehearsal to talk about their problems, lose their contact lenses (then find them in their eyes), and worry about Selsdon (played by Jared Ong (18A13A)), an aged actor playing a burglar, who had a tendency to sneak off for a drink. Tim, played by Yu Ke Dong (19A13A) the stage manager and also Lloyd’s errand boy, even found the time to catch a nap (“pass out from exhaustion” might be more accurate) behind the couch.

By the end of the first act, we were all in stitches. Our over-exerted facial and abdominal muscles breathed a sigh of relief as the curtains closed for an intermission.

The varied layers of humour, from the witty puns made during Nothing On, to the comic dissonance between the characters of Nothing On and characters of Noises Off, to the easy entertainment of the many entrances and exits made us wonder: How could this play get any funnier? We did not have to wait long for an answer, because Act 2 and Act 3 showed us exactly how.

Act 2

As the lights grew dim once again, the curtains opened to an unrecognisable sight. The stage had undergone a dramatic metamorphosis — the balustrade, couch and tasteful wallpaper had seemingly been replaced by roughly hewn walls propped up by wooden support beams. In reality, the set was exactly the same, save for one minor difference — it had been flipped 180º.

In the second act, the unpolished “backstage”, with notes to the cast of Nothing On scrawled on the backs of the doors, served as a stark reminder of how unprepared that cast was for their show. The first part of the act saw Poppy, the assistant stage manager played by Laura (19A13A), and Tim make repeat announcements through the PA system, failing to realise that the announcement had already been made. The play was already off to a bad start, but more hilarity ensued as the cast engaged in silent battles, struggling to keep the show going even as they fought in between entrances and exits.

One particularly memorable moment involved a fire axe sequence. Romantic rivalries turned to comical misunderstandings which escalated to absurdity rapidly, and the axe exchanged hands as cast members attempted to attack other characters with it, only for it to be snatched away by another character at the last moment. Before any unfortunate homicides could occur, the axe was decisively taken away by Belinda, played by Muskaan (18A01C), arguably the most sensible person in the cast of Nothing On. The fluid choreography, comedic timing and the dialed up melodrama of it all, landed amongst the audience with arrow-like precision and succeeded in eliciting howls of laughter from all quarters.

The whole act proceeded almost without the use of dialogue, thriving on the impeccable choreography and physical acting exemplified by the actors. Unbeknownst to the audience, this apparently smooth choreography actually belied hours of rehearsals, spontaneity, and a headache for director, production manager and stage manager Robyn Wong(18A01B). She revealed her and teacher director Mr. Jarrod Lee, had constructed a mini model of the house set, with Lego figurines to represent the characters and used this to pre-plan scenes. As Robyn put it, “It was insane, but brilliantly so.”

Act 3

Robyn described the final act of the play as “by far the funniest to watch”. While all three acts had their own special brand of humour, this act drew on the audience’s understanding of the play from the previous two acts, giving us a comical scene of the play falling apart into an unsalvageable mess. From the start, Dotty could barely get her lines out as she struggled to keep sobs out of her voice. With emotions running high and cast members breaking out into petty skirmishes, it seemed impossible that they could finish the play, but the show must go on, and so it did, albeit terribly.

Countless plates of sardines ended up in unfortunate locations, such as tipped unceremoniously down the back of Belinda’s blouse. The set begin to fall apart, and cast members struggled to improvise as things went awry. In what signaled the final death rattle of Nothing On, we watched in amazement as three successive robbers, played by Tim, actual burglar Selsdon and director Lloyd, broke in through the same window. At a loss as to how to continue, they simultaneously decided the best course of action would be to creep towards the television set in sync, even though the room was filled with people.

From there, the play progressed quickly to the final line of “Lights!”, as the cast of Nothing On called for the stage to be plunged into darkness, unable to complete the play.

Nothing On may have ended in disaster, but Noises Off! was nothing short of spectacular, if audience reaction was anything to go by. When the lights flickered on and the cast of Noises Off! ran on stage once again, they were met with thunderous applause. As we filed out of our seats, we heard many audience members exclaim that this was the best student production that they had ever been to, a testament to the skill and hard work of the cast and crew.

Behind the Scenes

But the magic didn’t just happen within the wonderful chemistry of this cast. We talked to members of the sets committee, who built the magnificent two-storey set (perhaps a physical representation of the two stories going on simultaneously?). They shared about the effort that went into constructing the various doors used in the set, and the many mishaps they had to overcome to get the set to its final, polished, iteration.

Ada Lum (19S06O) and Kuang Shane Qi (19A13A) recounted a day where they had broken four drill bits in an hour, and another where they had to unscrew all their doors and redo them, because they opened in the wrong direction. They also explained that the doorknobs had been attached to the doors by duct tape, because “duct tape defies all laws of gravity”.

Another particularly memorable story involved a message painted onto the backstage side of the revolving set. Doors built from scratch are delicate objects, we were told that Zenan Han (18S06A), who played Garry Lejeune, kept pulling the doors when he was supposed to push them, almost causing the destruction of the entire door set. In a bid to prevent all their hard work going to waste, the sets teams scribbled “PUSH GARRY PUSH” on the doors. If the still-standing door is anything to go by, the reminder worked.

While the cast and crew of Nothing On were unprepared, inept and prone to emotional breakdowns, the cast and crew of Noises Off! had pulled off a spectacular comedy. Perhaps because of this success, Robyn and other Year 6s explained that they was “not too sad” that it was their final production in Raffles Players, instead expressing pride that they had brought down the house with their production.

Many also spoke fondly of the joy they had shared with the cast and crew in the weeks leading up to production. “The people are unbelievable and amazing and they floor me every single time with their dedication and generosity and time and support,” said Loh Lin (19A01D). “Long hours of rehearsal had drawn the cast and crew closer together.”

Beyond the exaggerated antics of the characters, this play allowed us, for a brief moment, to get a sense of the amount of pain, effort and dedication that goes, unseen, into a production. Sets committee member Loh Su Jean (19A01A) remarked, “I think this play is unique because you get a glimpse into what’s classified information and a true taste of what’s behind the scenes of a production.”

Indeed, Noises Off! is special for all that and more. It is noteworthy as the first comedy put on by Raffles Players in a long while. Humour is notoriously difficult to pull off, and many cast members were thrilled at the audience’s positive reaction. Muskaan and Jayden Kang both agreed that hearing people not just laugh, but break into spontaneous applause at the axe scene was very rewarding – especially since they were too busy blocking and getting the timing precisely right during rehearsal sessions to consider how funny it would be to the audience. Jayden added, “The cast definitely felt our proudest at that very moment.”

Other cast members voiced similar sentiments. When asked what he hoped audience members would take away from the play, Jayden Yap replied, “Joy. Huge amounts of laughter”. That was certainly fulfilled. He continued, “That’s what Players is about! It’s just a bunch of kids coming together to put up a show, and having the most wonderful time of their lives while doing it. Noises Off! was the perfect way to communicate that idea.”

Robyn summed it up elegantly, “I think it really illuminated how wonderful it is to bring joy – pure unadulterated laughter! – to people, even if it’s just for one night.”

“I think it really illuminated how wonderful it is to bring joy – pure unadulterated laughter! – to people, even if it’s just for one night.”

While the play may have lasted a mere few hours, the humour and joy of the night will doubtlessly stay with audience members long after the lines themselves have been forgotten.

By Loh Lin (19A01D) and Kuang Shane Qi (19A13A)
Photos courtesy of Kathryn Oei (19A01A) from Raffles Photographic Society

Opening to a full house last Friday, Five Ways to Build a Home showcased films which — you guessed it! — revolved around the theme of home. The films, with their eclectic mix of subject matters, aimed to shed some light on what home means to the filmmakers, and in doing so display the outgoing batch of Film Society’s talents one last time. Emcees Alicia Seet (19S03L) and Arron Tan (19S03C) kept up a stream of lively commentary with a host of puns. It was on this animated note that they introduced the films of the night.

In Chrysanthemum, a stern mother and a withdrawn son buy flowers for a dead husband and father. This task is not as easy as it seems: tension and unspoken words underlay their interactions. The film powerfully establishes this in the opening scene where rumbling static overwhelms a conversation between them, building in intensity and culminating in a sharp blackout. This tension left the audience with bated breath, waiting to see the the inevitable argument.

However, the conflict did not come. The following scenes seemed carefully devoid of antagonism, as the boy avoided eye contact and his mother masked concern with impatience. As they headed to the columbarium, the son kept his eyes down and hunched over his chrysanthemums as though he could not bear to put them down. “I think this was because the boy was too apprehensive to talk to his mum,” shared Viktor Loh, who played the character. “It also shows how his dad was always between them.”

Most notable in this film was the use of sound. Initially, the film had nearly no sound, the silence emphasising the gaping distance between them. The turning point came when the boy enveloped his mother in a hug, his voice cracking as he said I’m sorry. As they make their way home, Edelweiss played softly in the background, filling the silence with a comforting sense of home.

We move on to Just Jane, which threw the audience into the midst of a makeup commercial. Jane, the girl advertising makeup products, is radiant. Her lips are a glossy pink, and she tops the effulgent look off with cheekbones that seem to shimmer with her every movement. Against a cheery pink backdrop, this is a heart-stoppingly pretty picture. But the artificial oversaturation prompted the audience into suspecting there is more to this than meets the eye, and a tentative question hung in the air as the scene played out: what lies behind this beauty?

The answer comes in the scrutiny of Jane behind the scenes. This Jane is pale, with dry skin, heavy eyebags, and chapped lips. She mirrors the actions of the previous Jane, smearing makeup on her face frantically, but looks sickly against the scene’s dark palette, nothing like the girl from before.  She is perceived in parts rather than a whole — a close-up shot of her throat while her face is hidden in the dark implies a chilling deconstruction of her as a human being. Her gradual loss of control is also reflected in symbolic scenes, such as the tearing of rose petals and the collapse of jenga blocks.  

This jarring departure from the picture of perfection engulfed the PAC in uneasy silence as the audience was left to ponder: how many Janes exist around us, and have we unconsciously exacerbated their insecurity with our careless remarks about people’s appearances?

The next film, leaves, follows a series of heartwarming exchanges between Emma and Aiden, two kids who first meet at a playground. From the start, Emma departs from the usual portrayal of children in her interaction with her surroundings. Where most children would be content to run amok together on the playground, she keeps mostly to herself, taking solace in talking to a tree. It is clear she would rather be alone, but Aiden doesn’t seem to understand that, which may be for the better after all.

This film’s charm lies in its sincere attempt at exploring loss and reconciliation through a child’s eyes, all the while maintaining its tender narrative of childhood and innocence. Through cleverly interspersed cutscenes that introduced Emma’s mother and paralleled the interactions between Emma and Aiden, we were soon privy to the reason for Emma’s fixation on her scrapbook — it is a remnant of her time with her mother, before the latter was somehow displaced from the picture. Deeply affected by the loss of her mother, she guards herself fiercely, but eventually wrestles some form of acceptance thanks to Aiden’s gentle persistence.

One would expect it’d be difficult for children to drive a story that explores heavier concepts like loss, but leaves manages this with no pretences whatsoever. It forwards a straightforward portrayal of Emma’s emotional upheaval, as well as Aiden’s earnestness in his continued extension of friendship; in doing so, it underscores the vulnerability and sincerity with which children navigate the world around them, and leaves (haha) us with a sad and sweet nostalgia.

The penultimate film of the night, going home, follows Mark through an ordinary day. He seems to be like any other 35 year-old — he goes to work, strikes up awkward but amiable enough conversations with strangers about shoes, and meets a date. When it is time to head home, however, the place he ends up returning to appears to be the furthest thing from home: a few flat cardboard boxes take up space in the middle of a narrow alley, and are the only things keeping Mark’s back off the hard concrete as he lies down to sleep.

The heart-wrenching portrait this film paints of loneliness even in the absence of physical solitude is one that would undoubtedly resonate with many of us. Even with a steady foothold of human contact, perhaps there are certain kinds of emptiness that other people simply cannot provide a tonic for. In the preceding scenes, we see Mark engaged with the world and its various occupants, and it is only in the alley scene that the sense of isolation heightens. The close-up shots of Mark, along with the background bustle of late-night shoppers, sharpened the sense of claustrophobia and suffocation he felt.

The film was inspired by “the feeling of being lonely in a big city”, explained Director Lim Liting (18A03A), adding that “you see people being tired and sad in crowded places [and in train stations]”. Indeed, Mark’s makeshift cardboard home seems to be a figurative representation of the lack of belonging people feel from time to time, drifting in a world as large as ours.

Oh Boy! was a trip to the past for much of the audience, who was undoubtedly reminded of their childhood days. The film painted a pastel-and-nostalgia-tinged picture of childhood, which was filled with toys, snacks, country erasers, and friendship.

Boy, a perfectionist, organises his cardboard hideout with meticulous detail, with his pride and joy being his collection of country erasers. When he realises that one of his beloved erasers has gone missing, he overturns the entire hideout looking for it, and is not satisfied at the drawn-on eraser that his friend gives to him as consolation. What ensued was a wild goose chase through a familiar landscape of HDB flats. As both boys search for the lost eraser, Boy’s perfectionism nearly drives a wedge into their friendship.

Eventually, they return to the hideout, now in disarray. Boy reintroduces it in a similar fashion to the opening scene, and reveals that the eraser was in his pocket all along, placing his friend’s messy, imperfect eraser in the centre of his collection. This clever juxtaposition of the opening and closing scenes makes the enormity of the upheaval even greater. While Boy did not find his eraser or restore order, he realised the importance of friendship and learnt how to deal with imperfection.

This film was all the more charming with its vibrant, Wes Anderson-esque colour palette and symmetrical shots, which came from Director Elizabeth Xu’s (18A13A) penchant for “nice looking things”. Oh Boy! was not merely “nice looking”, though. Each shot was carefully crafted and evocative, effectively balancing visual impact with storytelling to create a dynamic film.

The five thesis films definitely left the audience members with an ache in their hearts, but not all was melancholy. To provide a much-needed emotional respite, Film Society screened a series of short films titled 5 People to Make a Film, directed by the Y5 batch. Each film followed one member of the behind-the-scenes crew, enlightening the audience about the struggles of filmmaking and the colourful characters that make films happen.

Opening with a freeze frame of the Y5 batch in varying states of duress, the interlude films had the audience laughing raucously from the get-go. The first film shed light on the trials and tribulations of the Production Manager, who is always being pushed around. In a play on the familiar phrase “I’m so thirsty in JC!” that left the audience in stitches, the helpful PM brings water, and then an entire boy.

The film about the Sound Recordist began with the all-too-familiar Dolby Surround Intro, which prompted good-natured groans from the audience. Numerous close up shots flooded the screen, highlighting the comical tension between the Director and the SR.  

The other films poked fun at the process of filmmaking. The Director of Photography was presented as the subject of a nature documentary, who often did strange and inexplicable things to get a perfect shot, while the Assistant Director was an over-enthusiastic figure who was plastered with exponentially more pieces of masking tape as the film wore on. The Gaffer was a childish, fun-loving character who enjoyed messing around with lighting equipment, sometimes temporarily blinding his other crewmates.

To wrap up the screenings, a short behind-the-scenes video was played, featuring the process of filmmaking from inception to post-production. It was an amusing spectacle: crew members jumped in and out of frame, occasionally having to hold awkward positions to get that perfect shot.

However, these clips offered more than antics. They captured the sheer amount of work demanded of filmmakers, leaving the audience in awe of the backbreaking effort that was put in. Elizabeth humorously remarked that one of her greatest struggles was “carrying a set the size of a small man down 1km of road”, attesting to the physical labour that went on behind the scenes.

The physical strain involved wasn’t the only thing the members suffered through, for they also had to toil away at editing from June to July. Many hours were spent in the editing suite (and out of it, when they were made to leave after 5pm), dedicated to sharpening their craft. As Film Society member Gan Chong Jing (18A13A) had aptly summed up: “A film is made 3 times: you write it, you shoot it, then you edit it.” And so the month stretched on, until the day came for them to present the culmination of all their efforts thus far.

From the first idea generation session to the long days of filming and hours of skillful editing, it is evident that the films were a labour of love: for the art, for the process, and more than anything, for the people. As Chairperson Elizabeth Xu had declared in her CCA Preview at the start of the year, film “[lets] you build your own stories”, but “no work can exist in a vacuum”.

Fast forward six months later, these words have never rung truer. The films would not have existed without a supportive community — from teachers who answered frantic calls at 6am and stayed back with members till 11pm, to batchmates and juniors who slogged through the process together. While Batch 18’s time in Film Society had officially ended, this made for a stunning epilogue, one that silently gathered the past year of everyone’s efforts and put them on proud display for one brilliant night, as if to say: you made it.

And they did. The small batch of twelve had shown us five ways to build a home through their films, but that night the audience was also witness to the home they have built for themselves.

Credits

Y6 Thesis Films

• Chrysanthemum
  • Director: Gan Chong Jing (18A13A)
  • Producer: Morris Yang (18A01A)
• Just Jane
  • Director: Hasif Salehin (18A01D)
  • Producer: Angelica Ong (18A01C)
  • Director of Photography: Matthew Wong Chun Kit (18A01E)
• leaves
  • Director: Wayne Lim (18S07A)
  • Director of Photography/Producer: Michael Chow (18A13A)
• going home
  • Director: Lim Li Ting (18A03A)
  • Director of Photography: Chen Linxin (18S07B)
• Oh Boy!
  • Director: Elizabeth Xu (18A13A)
  • Producer: Harshini (18A03A)
  • Director of Photography: Tan Jing Yi (18S03M)

Y5 Interlude Films

• Production Manager
  • Director: Alyssa Marie Loo Li Ann (19A13A)
• Sound Recordist
  • Directors: Arron Tan (19S03C), Alicia Seet (19S03L), Kaitlyn Lee (19S03G)
• Director of Photography
  • Directors: Charlotte Yeong (19A13B), Nur Aqilah Nuha (19S07A)
• Assistant Director
  • Directors: Joellene Yap (19S07A), Esther Lam (19S07B)
• Gaffer
  • Directors: Puan Xin (19S03L), Hantao Liang (19S06F)

By Kuang Shane Qi (19A13A) and Wong Zi Yang (19A01D)
Photos courtesy of Michael Chow (18A13A) and Saksham Bambha (18S03F) from Raffles Photographic Society

What is History? Is it of any use at all? If you are a history student, you’ve probably asked yourself these same questions as you mulled over an endless stream of essays and source-based questions. To The Timeless Compass, however, big questions about History (with a capital H) are not to be trifled with.

The Timeless Compass (TTC) is an online youth publication and aspiring movement that aims to raise awareness on current affairs through a historical lens. From its humble beginnings as a three-person project in 2017, TTC has grown in scale, expanding to feature writers from China to Canada to Zimbabwe. Their aims are nothing short of ambitious: by tackling complex issues and making them more accessible, TTC hopes to debunk the notion that History is irrelevant to youths today.

It was in this spirit that TTC hosted their first ever dialogue, which revolved around the theme “The Past is a Present”. Through a series of talks and discussions, speakers from various fields explored the question of why understanding history is the key to shaping our future.

The keynote speeches boasted a fascinating lineup: Mr Chew Tee Pao from the Asian Film Archive, Mr Sonny Liew, author of The Art of Charlie Chan Hock Chye, and Mr Lee Chew Chiat, Executive Director of Deloitte. Not all of these speakers were familiar with history; in fact, Mr Lee admitted that his expertise ended with current affairs, eliciting laughter from the audience. Nonetheless, this diverse group of speakers engaged the audience in a discussion about the relevance of history to the past, the present, and even the future.

The keynote speeches began with Mr Chew’s presentation on the understanding of our cinematic heritage through film. As Mr Chew spoke, his passion for his work spilled through, the reserved and soft-spoken man bubbling with enthusiasm. Films, he said, are like family pictures— the remembrance of things that mean something to us. Preserving the films of the past is akin to safeguarding our cultural heritage while allowing all to appreciate it.

Mr Sonny Liew, being a comic book illustrator, was doubtful about his ability to contribute to the discourse in any meaningful way. Nevertheless, he shared the process behind his famous work, The Art of Charlie Chan Hock Chye. Wishing to take a look at the ‘real’ history of Singapore, Mr Liew revisited the Singaporean narrative through the lens of his fictional character, creating a blend of fiction and non-fiction to create a riveting story. He espoused the importance of not simply taking the mainstream narrative at face value— taking a look at ‘alternative accounts’ and reading intelligently, he feels, is much more vital.

Mr Lee, standing proud as the ‘oldest person here’, shared his own history. Asking for us to consider what we learned in the mainstream narrative, he stressed the importance of stability: in moving from one generation from another, the maintenance of stability is of paramount importance. With the advent of technology, news has entered the digital frontier, setting the stage for fake news to propagate. Unlike the past, the internet now has the power to fray the social fabric through social media platforms, making the maintenance of the social fabric more vital than ever. Today, Mr Lee said, with our rapidly developing country, social media platforms and the like can be used to change people’s thinking, unlike in the past. Therefore, he argued, the social fabric is much more important than ever before.

Following the keynote session, the participants split into breakout sessions. These sessions dealt with History’s impact on national identity, art, and global relations, attesting to its far-reaching impact on society.

1) History and Art: Exploring the value of tangible products of history today

By Mr Theophilus Kwek

The boundaries of Singaporean Literature are elusive at best, and downright undefinable at worst. In this session, Mr Kwek took his audience through the process of “beating the bounds” of SingLit— which is to say, actively defining and redefining the boundaries of our literary canon.

A crooked timeline of SingLit was scrawled on the board. As the participants hesitantly named (whom they thought were) prominent Singaporean writers, a few trends quickly became apparent. Most of the writers named were men, and all were Singaporean citizens. These writers by no means represent every conception of Singapore, and yet they are the faces that dominate SingLit.

“Singaporean-ness is defined by two parallel processes of mythmaking,” Mr Kwek said. “Writers create the myth of Singapore when they seek to represent us, and we create myths too when we choose writers to represent us.” Often, gatekeepers who decide what should (or should not) be SingLit define the narrative, inadvertently excluding certain groups. Mr Kwek raised the example of Nhan Chung, by Vietnamese refugees about their experiences in Singapore, and Stranger to Myself, by migrant worker MD Sharif Uddin. Such stories are not conventionally considered to be part of our literary canon, and yet the Singaporean narrative is made poorer by their exclusion, as these perspectives are sidelined despite being integral to understanding our country.

Beyond questioning the definition of SingLit, however, it is also important to question the institutions responsible for gatekeeping. In reality,  many sidelined groups have no access to the institutions (such as publishing houses) that prize certain voices over others. It is therefore the duty of privileged writers to actively decentralise themselves while recentralising others, in order to allow minority voices to be heard. At the same time, consumers are not powerless to challenge these institutions: showing support for books about sidelined narratives can pressure gatekeepers to diversify, slowly but surely redefining the narrative.

2) History and Global Relations: How understanding historical precedences allow youths to understand today’s conflicts in east asia and beyond

By Ms Koh Choon Hwee

What mental image is attached to the term ‘Middle East’? Desolation? A war-torn land? Terrorism? Not necessarily, says Ms Koh Choon Hwee. The Middle East is not merely a desolate wasteland of poverty and war. Amazing sights can be found in the Middle East- images of the snowy landscapes of Jerusalem and Tunisian buildings reminiscent of Greek architecture flashed across the screen as the participants’ preconceived notions were dispelled one by one.

The discussion centered around the currently ongoing Israeli-Palestine war— specifically, its historical origins tracing back to the Holocaust. Starting as early as 1948, the war has incurred startling human costs, with many suffering the injustices and horrors of war. To exemplify the human element of the conflict, namely the feelings of the people themselves rather than accounts on a history report, Ms Koh played the soulful rap song ‘Who’s the Terrorist’ by the rap band DAM, conveying something that simply cannot be shown through mere numbers and statistics.

But why even bother to understand such developments in the world? The answer is simple; This local problem has fuelled a global problem we are all familiar with: religious extremism. Extremist leaders such as Osama Bin Laden, leader of Al-Qaeda and Abu Bakr al-Baghdadi, leader of the Islamic State have often linked the motivation behind their terrorist activities to the injustice that Palestinians have faced in the Israeli-Palestine conflict. But it would be remiss to consider this from a religious perspective, Ms Koh suggests. Instead, she recommends that one look for political and economic motives behind such incidents and to educate oneself adequately before making any judgements, recommending the news links at reference site From Suez to Singapore as potential sources of information. She concluded with a small piece of advice: do your homework, and form educated opinions based on self-evaluation of sources.

——-

Many left the dialogue with more questions than answers, the complexities of History swimming nebulously in their minds. Nevertheless, one thing is for certain: History is more than just dusty old tomes in an archive. Versions of History are always evolving, but at the centre of it all lies the individual, who shares a personal connection with the past. As Ricardo Tan, a participant from Pioneer JC, put it, “History helps us remember the hardships of those that came before us, dead or alive.”

Between memorising case studies and grappling with analytical handles, we often lose sight of History’s human element. “We tend to politicise things in history, and talk about it in clinical terms,” shared Ashley Tan (18A13A), a founder of TTC. It is true that the History curriculum is restrictive, but classroom learning can only go so far: the onus is on the individual to explore out of the syllabus, to ask and understand, to build a personal connection with history.

More than that, however, the different speakers explored various ways in which history does not merely exist in the past, but is also a background to current and future events that help us understand the present and shape the future.

Organising Team

Managing Team:
Ashley Tan 18A13A
Neo Xiu Yang 18S06A
Nicole Lim Jia Yin 18A01D

Logs:
Li Yi De 18S06E

Admin:
Hew Zi Heng (CJC)

Facils:
Joshua Ng (ACSI)
Ruan Xinpei 19A13B
Arya Arun (ACSI)

Pubs Team:
Trevor Wee (Ngee Ann Polytechnic)

Photographers:
Michael Chow 18A13A
Saksham Bambha 18S03F

AV:
Jaryl Goh 19S03I

Ushers:
Luo Tian You 18S06A
Lee Yong Tian 18S03C
Minh Nguyen 18A01C
Zhang Xinyang 19S07A

Teacher I/C:
Ms Lynette Lim

By Asfar Alim (18S03J)

To say or not to say? That is the question. Do I risk contributing my idea for a project, even though it could get shot down immediately? Should I tell my good friend that their questionable decisions (such as playing Dota for 8 hours straight) may not be a good idea? Or perhaps, there’s the fear of asking a question on a sensitive topic. These are just a few examples of the situations that we may have encountered where we would have to decide whether we should be honest and share our thoughts or keep quiet. In these scenarios, we meet different types of people who apply different approaches.

Everybody knows that one person in our class or CCA who is incredibly vocal, not afraid to speak their mind. They always find a reason to disagree with your opinion in a group discussion, passionately share their thoughts on why the patriarchy must fall, or expound on why they believe our education system is a sham. Regardless of how controversial some these opinions may be, such as the belief in Flat-Earthism, these people prioritise honesty and are forthcoming with such opinions. Their approach is simple: Try not to think too much about it. “It’s much better to just be honest about how I feel, rather than keeping quiet and wondering what might have gone differently had I said this,” is a common sentiment they may share. It is likely that these people do understand the potential backlash or ridicule they could receive when they share such ideas, but this all seems inconsequential compared to what may happen if they passively accept other people’s opinions. This would include being dragged along with an idea they have no interest in, or wondering how events could have changed if they had indeed spoke their mind.

As seen above, however, these opinions range in varying degrees of audacity, and some may not know where to draw the line on the types of opinions or ideas they share. In a diverse and relatively conservative society like Singapore, sharing thoughts on historically sensitive topics such as race, religion, or sexuality is a surefire way to offend a large group of people. The more comfortable someone is with sharing their honest thoughts, the more likely he or she is to cause offense. As a result, such people risk being alienated by the majority.

In addition, an incredibly vocal person could also exude a sense of arrogance by giving the impression that their opinions are more important than others’, and that others’ feelings do not matter. This would cause them to be disliked.

It is perhaps this fear of being alienated that impels many people to adopt a policy of guardedness. They may not be as forthcoming with their ideas, and if they hold an opinion that the majority would disagree with, they would rather keep it to themselves.

“I have a thousand things to say to you, and a thousand reasons not to.” — Rachel Wolchin, thegoodvibe.co

This policy of guardedness is often known as “self-censorship”. Self-censorship is a phenomenon where people regulate their own discourse with their judgement, usually based on the norms of society, especially to avoid criticism. Self-censorship becomes particularly relevant, and poses a challenge, for content creators such as bloggers, or news outlets (even Word of Mouth). As the conduit of raw information and ideas from the larger world to their readers and communities, the above groups have the most power in providing their own interpretations and opinions of current events and sharing this interpretation to others. Take the changes in income inequality in Singapore as an example. Rather than just reciting the facts and statistics about this issue, bloggers or commentary writers may want to add their own thoughts on this piece of news, or if more can be done about this issue and which groups of people should be responsible for enacting this.

Due to self-censorship, content creators and media reporters may end up feeling obligated to ensure the opinions they share offend as few people as possible, lest they face public backlash. In addition, in an age where anything we say can be recorded easily and cannot be erased, the opinions we share, or may have shared in the past, can be used against us. These opinions may end up following a person for life, so sharing opinions that are controversial could be detrimental. Such groups and individuals could risk having the authorities knocking on their doors if the views shared can be interpreted to be a threat to societal order and harmony.

Despite this, the sharing of opinions should not be heavily stifled. There exist countless opinions that most people disagreed with in the past, but which are widely accepted today. Take, for example, the struggle of many scientists in ancient times as they came up with hypotheses that were almost inconceivable at the time, but which they were able to substantiate after many experiments. Aristarchus of Samos was one scientist who faced disapproval from many people for proposing the hypothesis that our solar system was heliocentric – that is, that all the planets in our solar system revolve around the Sun, as opposed to the Earth. However, his ideas were eventually accepted centuries later and became the basis for many other scientific theories, such as planetary motions and gravity. These theories could never have come about if such ideas were not initially embraced, and when they were left open for fine-tuning, their ideas have become widely accepted.

Science is not the only field that has benefited from the ability to voice opinions. As more people argue for social change, inevitably, the social zeitgeist begins to shift. Although opinions regarding LGBT rights are rather controversial and offend many people with a more traditional mindset, it did not stop groups who believed in equality to champion for their rights. It is perhaps this persistent effort from these groups to get their voice heard that caused a shift in attitudes towards same-sex relationships and allowed more countries to adjust laws catering to LGBT groups, such as the legalisation of same-sex marriages in Australia, Malta and Germany in 2017. Likewise, many other societies face other socioeconomic issues such as the lack of opportunities for women to be educated, or laws which are not favourable for single parents. If people could go beyond their fear of being judged and voice their opinions, more people may follow suit, and society can perhaps move forward and evolve in a positive direction.

The consequences of not speaking up are grave, and every citizen should be concerned about them. No matter how insignificant you feel their voice may be, your voice can ultimately act as a catalyst for inducing change in other people’s opinions or actions. Even in the scenario where a majority does not agree with one’s opinion, discourse over the issue can be generated and both sides can be given an opportunity to navigate their differences. As long as one knows when to back down, a positive discussion can happen. However, opting to simply remain silent results in attitudes becoming entrenched in society, which impacts a society’s ability to think critically and respect opinions that differ from the norm, both of which are both required to enact positive change.

The ability to know when to voice opinions and engage in discourse is where critical thinking comes in, as it allows people to evaluate other people’s actions and its impacts on different groups of people on a deeper level. When more people become unwilling to share opinions and engage with new ideas, they lose the opportunity to examine issues critically, and being unable to practice such a valuable skill can be detrimental to the development of a society in the long run.

In additional to social impacts, self-censorship has personal impacts as well. Being guarded about opinions can affect how effectively we interact with people, and this is because of how closely tied sharing opinions are with having conversations and building trust. Research has shown that there are 3 levels of conversation a person can access. The rudimentary level would be Informational Conversation, which merely consists of the exchange of facts or information. These types of conversations do not result in gaining trust. It is the second level, Positional Conversation, that builds trust. At this level, people would feel comfortable sharing their own opinions and inquiring about other perspectives. When this is done respectfully, it results in peers developing a greater sense of trust and are a greater willingness to cooperate. This paves the way to level 3: Relational Conversation, where empathy develops and meaningful relationships bud.

Considering how interlinked sharing opinions are with increasing trust levels, those who remain less willing to share opinions may be stuck at the first level of conversation, which hardly helps in building trust and creating meaningful relationships. In a way, opinions are what define us and give others a glimpse of our identity. It would be much more difficult to have insightful conversations or trust people further if they themselves are unwilling to put themselves out there and share their opinions. Hence, this ends up squandering the ability for meaningful human interaction.

On the flipside, there are issues which clearly cross the boundaries of acceptable speech, such as hate speech and threats of violence. These types of ideas seek to attack individuals based on their race and religion, or spread malicious falsehoods. One notorious example would be when Amy Cheong, the former assistant director of membership at the National Trade Union Congress (NTUC), posted a racist comment on FaceBook in 2012, causing her to receive severe backlash from the public. She was eventually removed from her position at NTUC due to her comment.

Hate speech and violent comments should never be confused with earnest attempts to communicate and, naturally, should not be given as much consideration as opinions that seek to build up or offer constructive criticism. It is up to everybody to be responsible when sharing opinions by having a clear intent on what they wish to achieve by sharing their opinion and by anticipating the consequences of sharing it.

At the end of the day, the issue of what exactly constitutes opinions that are worth sharing have many nuances that can be argued about over eternity, and this is not entirely relevant to us in the short run. What most of us should be concerned about is how much weight we give to our own opinions. If we sincerely believe that our opinions matter to us and are relevant to the current context, there should be no problem sharing them when the time calls for it.

Of course, ensuring that our opinions do not offend people and result in more harm than good will always be a challenge. Therefore, it is crucial that we have tact when maintaining the balance between standing our ground with our opinions while not being offensive. We may end up making errors or inciting disapproval, but with every attempt to bring useful opinions forward, we may get better at maintaining the balance.

No matter what approach we take the next time we need to contribute ideas to a group, or to a friend, it would be good to remember how we want to be remembered in a few years time before we make the decision to say, or not to say.

By Loh Lin (19A01D)

The study of language may seem like a perplexing choice to many who are unfamiliar with Linguistics as a subject — after all, why is there a need to focus on and examine something that serves only as a tool for communication? What can linguists do with their knowledge beyond academia? What is their role once they move beyond the classroom?

The ELL Symposium held in CJC on 28 May wryly acknowledged these questions, and forwarded a response in its overarching theme: Forging An Inclusive Community. Having conveyed a certain sense of responsibility that both linguists and linguistics students alike are due to bear, the stage was set for the two speakers, Dr Joe Bennett and Dr Gareth Carol, both lecturers in Applied Linguistics and Psycholinguistics in the University of Birmingham, to broaden the audience’s understanding of the multiple ways in which language interacts with society, and how we could use it in a way that “[betters] ourselves for the good of others”.

In their introduction, both Dr Bennett and Dr Carol explained how language can be wielded more consciously and effectively in three ways: to challenge prejudice, benefit people’s health and raise awareness of political persuasion. Before they began their respective lectures proper, they urged the audience to consider how language works in the real world — with all its social dynamics and interactions — in order to ask important questions and provoke conversations.

In his first lecture, Dr Bennett addressed the prescriptive attitude that people tend to adopt towards language. The “prescriptive approach” — a term linguistics students should be sufficiently familiar with — refers to the view that language possesses a set of rules that rigidly dictates way it is being used. For instance, Singapore’s Speak Good English movement espouses standard prescriptive grammar rules as the norm that everyone should aspire to.

However, in its dismissal of language variation that is shaped by one’s culture and social cluster, such an approach reaps social ramifications that breed greater stigma and discrimination against already marginalised groups. In other words, when people are perceived as lesser on the basis of the language they speak, they are likely to be treated as lesser. This arises because of the differences in the prestige being accorded to the standard vernacular and the variation respectively, where the prescribed language would inevitably be perceived as the ‘superior’ or ‘official’ language, and any deviation therefore implies a lack of exposure to the ‘correct’ language and by extension, a lack of education or civility.

Dr Bennett reinforced this with an example that was closer to home for him: children in Britain “learn about prescriptivism early on”, and “are aware of stigma on a fundamentally cognitive level”. They adapt to this by rejecting their local accent and trading it for the Upper Received Pronunciation, which is the favoured standard vernacular in Britain, despite there being a multitude of social groups with different backgrounds that shape their accents.

Here, it is the job of linguists to intervene and defend the use of language variation as modes of communication that are just as capable as standard vernacular in conveying complex ideas logically and effectively.

“[Language variation] is every bit as logical, every bit as rational, every bit as good.”

Admittedly, linguists are unable to entirely eradicate all prescriptive attitudes, they are still responsible for and capable of checking prescriptive arguments against their knowledge of how language works, investigating social implications and consistently challenging ill-informed attitudes. In redefining the concept of “proper” language, they challenge the harmful dictum of language as a reflection of worth, which is the first step in changing the way standard vernacular outliers are being treated by society.

Dr Carol took over from there, and introduced clinical linguistics, another branch of applied linguistics that had previously rarely been considered by most of the students present, judging from the confused murmurs that rippled through the audience when it was first mentioned.

We later find out that beyond enabling communication and acting as a social advocate, language — or more specifically, clinical linguistics in this case — can be used to better treat patients and their medical conditions.

It investigates special needs individuals’ response to the circumscribed language cues. For instance, individuals with autism interpret and respond to social cues differently, as they are cognitively unaware or unable to adapt to them. Having understood that they experience difficulty  processing and adapting to the pragmatic levels of language, linguists can help parents or teachers “find other ways to support communication”.

Finally, Dr Bennett took the stage one last time to analyse politics through language, which he claimed was necessary in order to “have democracy”. Political communication is built not only on ideas alone. The identities people are invested in, who they find convincing and who they admire all have a stake in determining who they have a greater inclination to listen to.

Dr Bennett examined politicians’ employment of synthetic personalisation in relating to ground sentiment and bridging the distance between them and their audience, all of which aid in garnering political support. He raised Trump’s trademark discourse marker (“Believe me!”) as an example of how inclusive language humanises the politician, allowing him or her to be perceived as a reliable and trustworthy figure who is in touch with ground sentiment and would therefore be capable of addressing the needs of the masses.

Overall, the symposium undoubtedly addressed the queries that most linguistics students possibly had to field regarding the relevance and utility of their choice of study. Many people may write language off as a facilitator of communication and nothing else, or to dismiss linguistics as a impractical field of study, but the breadth covered is proof of the dynamic role of language in society.

After all, the social world is constructed by what we say and how we say things. By deconstructing our words and the motivations behind them, we are better equipped to challenge and raise awareness of internalised bigotry and bridge gaps between people, all of which are crucial steps towards forging a more truly inclusive community.

By Raffles Press

The snitch has been released! Over the past week, members from all five houses fought to do their houses proud, in a series of games that saw victors fall from grace and underdogs rise to glory overnight. But daily morning updates of the overall house standings don’t tell the full picture. Raffles Press investigates and reports back on the various TRGs organised by the CCAs.

Shooting: Hit Me With Your Best Shot

By Loh Lin (19A01D)

Photo courtesy of Amy Lin (19A01B) from Raffles Photographic Society

All was tranquil outside the Shooting Range. The scene lying in wait on the other side of the door, however, pierced through the silence instantaneously as both beginners and experienced shooters alike fired at the rifle cards set up for their practice round. Deep in concentration, their eyes never left the targets as they squeezed and released their triggers. After a few haphazard aims, the beginners seemed to have gotten the hang of things, hitting their marks more often than not. From there, they executed the same motions like an ensemble in the making — rifle snug on the shoulder, lean back, aim, fire. The members of Raffles Shooting were by their sides in an instant throughout it all, smooth and brisk in their reloading of the pellets.

After the first two rounds, one of which had participants shooting at balloons, the finals were underway. MR fell behind after the first shot, followed by HH. As the participants of the remaining three houses took their stand, Raffles Shooters broke out into rhythmic clapping, cheering the participants on. Despite the din, the participants remained unfazed, laser-focused on the target still. Two shots in, a BB participant on the sidelines urged his friend on, “There’s still one more shot! It’s not over yet!” Another loud crack later, BW claimed victory.

Rankings:

1st: BW

2nd: BB

3rd: HH

4th: MT

5th: MR

Squash: Taking A Crack At Squash

By Caryn Chiah Ka-May (19A01A)

Photo courtesy of Dylan Siew (19S06E) from Raffles Photographic Society

On Monday, Rafflesians burning with house spirit were led up a narrow flight of stairs, through the backstage area of Albert Hong Hall, and into a hardly-entered place in RI: The squash courts. Squashed onto the single long concrete bench, players spurred on their housemates as they sparred.

Although most games end when either player scores eleven points, two particularly evenly-matched opponents fought it all the way to a final score of 20-18. Onlookers groaned and cheered as the two struggled neck-to-neck, never allowing the other to wrest more than one point from them at a time. Unexpectedly, the player who prevailed had actually lost his first match 11-0.

“I’ve never seen the ball fly out of the court so many times before,” joked one of the squash teachers-in-charge. Indeed, while most players had no squash experience and sent balls swerving wildly, they played hard, sustaining impressive rallies. In the end, maintaining their strong lead from the beginning, MR emerged as champions.

Rankings:

1st: MR

2nd: BW

3rd: BB

4th: MT

5th: HH

CLDCS: Discovering the Fun in Chinese

By Ina Song (19S07C)

Photo courtesy of Jiang Jin Liang (19S06N) from Raffles Photographic Society

This year, the first non-sports CCA to host their TRG event is none other than CLDCS. The two hours spent in the Blue Room were certainly rewarding, leaving no doubt that the participants learnt a new thing or two while still enjoying themselves. Indeed, the array of games and quiz questions prepared by CLDCS members kept all participants (who were notably responsive throughout) thoroughly engaged. Over the sound of never-ending laughter came the call of a plastic toy chicken, the clanking of a metal plate and the screeching of a squeaky ball. These varied props were given out to participants during the quiz to use to signal when they wanted to answer a question, which added an additional playful touch to the activity. The fight for first place was evident in the participants’ incredible display of perseverance and house spirit, eventually resulting in a hard-fought draw between BW and MR.

Rankings:

Tied for 1st: MR and BW

3rd: MT

4th: BB

5th: HH

Fencing: Outside Your Comfort Zone

By Phang Yeu Yeou (19A01A)

Photo courtesy of Brendon Loo (19S03H) from Raffles Photographic Society

All is still on the piste. The tension in the air runs taut as a wire; faceless ghouls stiffen into the en garde position, watching. Waiting. “Fence!” A powerful lunge forward, and the épée finds its mark. In the background, the audible throb and twang of swords clashing intimates a different sort of suspense.

On Tuesday, the five houses came together to step out of their comfort zones — quite literally. Each house was matched up round-robin style to every other house, with the first side to score 12 points securing a victory for their house. A rotation of 3 players was sent up for each bout, allowing all to wield the épée in combat at least twice.

Competition in the air was electrifying, with spectators raucously hollering when their teammates landed a hit and urging them on with pointers to do better when they fell short. The more aggressive bouts saw players prowling the other in a deadly game of cat-and-mouse. Like live darting snakes, they jabbed outwards in unexpected bursts of movement, gambling their chances at victory in a gambol of vicious back-and-forth. More cautious players extended their arms warily to parry attacking blows instead, only retracting like a frog’s tongue that had captured its prize after a surreptitious clip to the target area.

Although the air-conditioner was off the entire time, the sweat that stuck to participants once all the gear had been removed was well-earned indeed.

Rankings:

1st: MT

2nd: MR

3rd: HH

4th: BB

5th: BW

Handball (organised by Raffles Softball): Not Throwing Away Their Shot 

By Loh Lin (19A01D)

Photo courtesy of Ryan Ng (19S06N) from Raffles Photographic Society

Few things are as fierce and vigorous as a game of Handball. This TRG saw numerous instances of balls catapulting towards goalposts at alarming speeds, only to be deftly knocked aside by the goalkeepers. Pausing only briefly to wince and check for bruises, the goalkeepers then retrieved the ball and flung it back to their waiting teammates. Ball secured and eyes pinned on the defending team’s goal, they darted off.

Unsurprisingly, tensions ran high as players wrestled with their frustration when they failed to land a goal, with shot after shot blocked or slickly intercepted. The boys were relentless in their competitiveness, barely faltering even as they collided with one another. At one point, a player stumbled — unable to rein in the force of his charge — and slammed into the fence. He shook it off. Taylor Swift would be proud.

The girls were just as dogged, nimbly intercepting shots and yelling instructions to the rest of their team as they looked for an opening in the wall of defenders. Although they slipped and tripped over one another’s feet several times, it didn’t take long for them to brush themselves off and leap back into the game. Even as BB took the lead in the end, this had been a slightly scary display of tenacity from all five houses.

Rankings:

1st: BB

Tied for 2nd: MR and BW

4th: HH

5th: MT

Tennis: Putting the ‘Ten’ in Tennis 

By Shervon Lee (19S06A)

Photo courtesy of Tian Ruiying (19S05B) from Raffles Photographic Society

The sun was hotter than the tennis players on this fine Tuesday afternoon, as participants gathered promptly to warm up for the Tennis TRG. The heat did nothing to deter the avid participants, however, and soon enough, the rhythmic thuds of balls on the ground sounded from the tennis courts. Much to the players’ surprise, everyone seemed well-versed in the rules and gameplay, confidently whacking every ball that came their way. Exciting competition ensued.

Split into sports and non-sports, pairs from each house took turns to spar with others. All in the spirit of fun, rackets were swung with surprising amounts of finesse and balls flew across the net in impressive arcs. Participants were brimming with enthusiasm and, even after every 20 minutes of gameplay, continued sparring during breaks. It proved to be a fun-filled afternoon for all participants that day, with all participants leaving with a satisfying sheen of sweat.

Rankings:

1st: MR

2nd: MT

3rd: HH

4th: BB

5th: BW

Chess: Check, and Mate 

By Loh Lin (19A01D)

Photo courtesy of Li Ruiqi (19A01A) from Raffles Photographic Society

“You’re gonna get SMASHED!” Raucous laughter bursts from the tables where Chinese Chess was underway. Hands paused in mid-motion, stopping short of making their move or pressing the chess clock. Turning around to glance at the source of distraction, the players of International Chess exchanged bemused looks, before shrugging it off and returning to their game. Meanwhile, a small crowd formed around a particularly intense Chinese Chess game, delighted at the prospect of a close fight.

It wasn’t long before another round of guffaws broke out. This time, it’s from the I-Chess players analysing a game that had just been completed. Good-natured yells of protest rang out as a player thumped the table lightly in exasperation at a previously unnoticed blunder. Meanwhile, other players waiting for the next round to start begin engaging in a discussion over the various opening systems, with more experienced players giving demonstrations to beginners.

As the next round began, however, players from both sides of the room gradually descended into focused silence. Now, the only noise came from the chess clocks and the movement of the chess pieces. The remaining three (out of five) rounds saw bold moves and significant blunders alike being made, but the easy energy of the players and Chess members lightened the tension lingering after each game, and proved that while Chess is usually viewed as a dull activity, it is really anything but.

Rankings:

1st: BW

2nd: MR

3rd: BB

4th: HH

5th: MT

Improvisation and Assorted Theatre Games (organised by Raffles Players): So You Think You Can Play (With Hearts)? 

By Kuang Shane Qi (19A13A)

Photo courtesy of Amy Lin (19A01B) from Raffles Photographic Society

The TSD opened its doors to the motley group of participants, its shadowy interior dimly lit and vaguely menacing. Those with prior drama experience immediately made themselves at home, settling into the black box as easily as the Players did. Those unfamiliar with theatre hung back, perhaps a little nervous. However, this was soon to change.

The participants were immediately thrown into the thick of warm-ups, including theatre classics such as Splat Bang and Hoo Ha Hee. These games are not for the faint-hearted, and some participants’ aggressive responses left even the Players in fear. Tongue twisters were equally intense, and even the most precise speakers made amusing slip ups.

The highlight, however, was the improvised performances. Each house was given a scenario  (e.g “Raffles Reality TV”, “A Singaporean Fairytale”) and three prompts, their only instruction being “go wild”. The final performances were creative, dynamic, and incredibly entertaining, often incorporating unabashed romance as well as snarky references to RI school culture. All houses fought a bitter battle to bedazzle the judges, but if the participants’ raucous peals of laughter were anything to go by, it didn’t really matter who won or lost in the end.  

Rankings:

1st: BB

2nd: HH

3rd: MR

4th: BW

5th: MT

Water Polo: A Splashing Good Time

By Nicole Chan (19S05A)

Photo courtesy of Andrew Yap (19S06Q) from Raffles Photographic Society

Despite the sweltering heat of a late afternoon, the teams at the Water Polo TRG last Thursday were full of energy and an enthusiasm that was mirrored by the spectators in the stands, especially during the final games.

Though the players were mostly new to Water Polo, many were athletes who already possessed some basic skills required for the sport, such as hand-eye coordination and strong swimming ability. Knifing through the water, hurling shot after shot into the goalpost (and often over it), they appeared almost as at ease in the water as on land. Those not playing took advantage of their break times to practise their passing and shooting by the side. From the way players and even spectators made a beeline for the scoreboard after every round to scrutinize the current placings, it was clear that every team intended to claim victory for themselves.

While the games were short but intense, with a few getting heated at times, the atmosphere was largely light-hearted. Most teams had great camaraderie, being made up of friends, and those who were strangers warmed up to each other quickly enough. Even those from different teams were friendly towards each other, in a strong show of sportsmanship. In the end, though there were frustrated yells and muttered grumblings, it was still laughter and banter that dominated the pool.

Rankings:

1st: MR

2nd: MT

3rd: BW

4th: BB

5th: HH

Track & Field: Run Fast, Fly Free 

By Aaron Tan (19A01B)

Photo courtesy of Dylan Siew (19S06E) from Raffles Photographic Society

A snap of the clapper, and they’re off. In a burst of adrenaline, the runners surge forward, dart-straight down the track, and within seconds they are done, heaving, sweat-soaked under their exertion and the afternoon sun. “And in first place… I… actually don’t know,” admits the emcee to laughter from the stands. It’s close. As the referees consult the timekeepers, the next set of athletes prepare for their run.

Tracing its roots to Olympia, this storied sporting event saw its latest local iteration in the form of the Team Raffles Games, held across two days. Cheered on by their peers, our athletes gave their all in the various track and field events, with HH emerging as the overall champions. Various CCAs also participated in the much-anticipated inter-CCA relay — with Rugby taking home the gold.

Overall Rankings (spread over 2 days):

1st: HH

2nd: BW

3rd: BB

4th: MR

5th: MT

This concludes Week 1 of Team Raffles Games. Keep your eyes peeled for what went down in Week 2!

By Sarah Chen (19S03C)

Without fail, every 9th of August brings with it a sudden burst of patriotism in Singaporeans, me included. It’s both heartwarming and odd — something that can only be witnessed on this one day. As suddenly as this pride arrives, it leaves, and I am left questioning how genuine all this patriotism really is.

A while back, I watched a film called Ladybird. The protagonist of the film in question was a girl in high school, on the cusp of young adulthood, dreaming of leaving her hometown for greater places. As she spent the majority of the film cursing every single aspect of her hometown, I saw in her not just myself, but many other Singaporean teenagers.

Boring! Too small! Stressful! Expensive! So hot! Complaints about Singapore slip out with such ease it’s reached a point where we almost accept them as facts. Dreams of travelling to more ‘exciting’ countries are increasingly becoming a reality, as more and more young Singaporeans are emigrating permanently to countries such as Australia, the United States, and the United Kingdom. With an average of 1,200 Singaporeans forgoing Singaporean citizenship every year, Singapore’s ‘brain drain’ issue is pretty obvious. And just to double-confirm that sentiment, I asked some schoolmates if they’d prefer to stay in Singapore or emigrate when they were older. Similar to what I’d learnt from the statistics, a large majority of them told me they’d rather leave.

I chose not to ask them why because while it’s obviously impossible for me to already know each of their reasons, I must say I can already come up with dozens of possible answers on my own. With media often highlighting and romanticising the so-called “overseas experience”, many end up comparing Singapore to foreign countries. Singapore, with its small size and unfortunate lack of a distinct Singaporean culture, generally seems to fall short. I often find myself whining about Singapore. And when I say ‘often’, I mean ‘often’. From our (horribly unjust) lack of chewing gum to the education system, complaining about and even poking fun at my home country is second nature to me. So it’s really no surprise that I’m mostly apathetic towards any initiatives promoting national pride and identity.

Starting from primary school, Singaporean youths sit through civics, social studies and history lessons about Singapore. Time and time again, our teachers tell us that our multiracialism makes us special, our history and rise from a third-world country to a first-world one makes us successful, our strong economy and education makes us significant. These lessons have always felt rather awkward and forced, but arguably the most exaggerated messages are pushed towards us during National Day. The tradition of annual National Day songs gives us dozens of verses preaching about Singapore’s beauty and our all-consuming love for her. Though my skepticism may come across as me disliking the whole occasion, it’s generally more doubt than disdain. I find it hard to believe that Singaporeans truly love this place that much — how can they if they’re constantly complaining about it?

Remember the movie I mentioned at the start of the article? Let’s bring it back for a moment. At one point, the protagonist finally leaves her hometown for a school and city of her dreams. Though she’d been waiting to move away for ages, something strange happens: she finds herself overwhelmingly homesick. This is the moment of the film I see myself reflected most clearly in her.

I spend an unreasonable amount of time criticising every little thing about Singapore, and maybe that’s why the moment I leave, I find myself unable to stop talking about it. In a recent holiday that lasted two weeks (nothing compared to the protagonist moving away for seemingly endless school terms!), not a single day passed where I didn’t make some remark about Singapore. Even when it reached a point where I spent an hour-long car drive rattling on about what I liked and disliked about the food back home, it didn’t occur to me that I was in the slightest bit homesick. It took several more days of randomly bringing Singapore into conversations, one night spent getting very, very lost in a foreign city, and a few pictures sent to me by friends back home before it finally dawned on me that in the back of my mind, I genuinely missed Singapore.

As you can imagine, it was a rather strange feeling for me to comprehend. Somewhere beneath my griping was some muted attachment and belonging, something that was only made known to me when I left. I’ve now realised that this weirdness all boils down to one thing: my perception of a ‘home’. With all the idealised versions of ‘home’ being shoved down my throat from a young age, I’ve grown up associating home with a place one has great love and passion for, and since I’ve never really felt that strongly, at some point I stopped believing this to be a ‘home’, but merely a place I resided in.

What I’ve come to realise from this is that one’s relationship with their home does not need to be as grand and overblown as it’s frequently portrayed to us. After all, that relationship’s a highly personal one; everybody has their own likes, dislikes, and ideas. Home isn’t just a country’s history and achievements, nor is it always what’s pushed to us in the media. Yes, those do play a part, but more importantly, home’s about embracing both what you like about it and what you hate about it. And now, this idea of “hate” is back, tying it all back to all the complaining we hear around Singapore.

To some, the fact that we as a society complain so much about our home country might be kind of iffy or sad, even. Personally, I’ve found that despite all my complaining, I really do hold affection for this place in my heart. And perhaps this constant complaining is a cultural thing. By complaining about Singapore with other Singaporeans, we share and exchange opinions on common experiences we have. When we hear others grumble about something you find annoying too, we laugh, go, “eh, same!” and add on too. Yet the moment a foreigner expresses a negative opinion about Singapore, everyone’s suddenly intensely patriotic. While we do acknowledge the faults (very well), we recognise that Singapore is, if not quite the home all of us wish for, still where we come from.

At the end of Ladybird, there’s a scene where the protagonist drives around her hometown for the first time, and she’s suddenly struck by the subtle beauty of it all. Unfortunately, I have yet to be as awed and wonderstruck by Singapore as she is by her town. But what I have been doing is observing the city around me, looking around a little more than I’m used to, and I’ve found some small things that make Singapore special (in good ways and bad) to me. And if you’d like to, maybe you could do the same.

By Raffles Press

The snitch remains in the air… It’s been over a week since TRG season drew to a close, where members from all five houses fought to do their houses proud, in a series of games that saw victors fall from grace and underdogs rise to glory overnight. Raffles Press is back to report back on the second week of TRGs, which was arguably as intense as the first.

Touch Rugby: Touch-And-Go/Midas’ Touch

By Caryn Chiah (19A01A)

Photo courtesy of Melvin Liam (19S05B) from Raffles Photographic Society

Grey clouds loomed overhead. Drops of rain fell lightly on the participants milling around the field. Anxiously, they swatted away imaginary water droplets, glancing at the silent lightning alert and praying for the best. Fortunately, the only formidable forces of nature that afternoon were the players on the field. Intense and at times intimidating, houses played against each other in mixed teams of four. Rugby balls soared through the air, were deftly caught, or dropped.

While the rapid nature of the game intimidated new players, players with prior experience actively sought to lessen their fears. Despite the serious coaching of new players and encouragement off the field, it all turned into good-natured laughing and banter on field. Most memorably, a BW player sprinted towards the goal, excitement building as he prepared to score. However, he placed the rugby ball down just before the goal line, to uproarious shouts of amusement and exasperation. Another player’s bid for the goal ended in the ball skidding across the ground and bouncing off a teacher. The unfortunate player cowered before her, apologizing profusely, before his teammates dragged him away and chided him for stalling the game.

In the end, though the sun had long disappeared behind the clouds, the grit, sportsmanship and teamwork displayed by all players shone through.

Rankings:

1st: BB 

2nd: BW

3rd: HH

4th: MT

5th: MR

Badminton: It’s Not Racquet Science

By Yoon Shwe Yee (19S03B) and Benjamin Lim (19S03I)

Photo courtesy of Benjamin Lim (19S03I)

Swish, Smack, Swabble; Sounds that reverberated within the ISH as players warmed up before the matches began. The hall was a sea of colour as the eager house representatives milled around the hall, the slight delays doing nothing to dampen their excitement. The participants were quickly divided into teams, each match having their own courts and referees. Despite the competitive nature of the event, the atmosphere was easy and relaxed, with much interhouse joking and laughing occurring on court. Each match lasted no longer than ten minutes and the referees were quick and efficient in their announcements of the pairings ensuring that the event went smoothly.

From the very start, all house representatives played their very best in every match, house pride in full display. This fun-filled event ended with a victory for BW, yet the sportsmanship displayed by all the players ensured that everyone went home victorious in their own way.

Rankings:

1st: BW

Tied for 2nd: MT and HH

4th: MR

5th: BB

Volleyball: Serve’s Up

By Shervon Lee (19S06A) and Mabel Yet (19S03Q)

Photo courtesy of Timothy Low (19S06L) from Raffles Photographic Society

Tuesday afternoon saw basketball courts being transformed into volleyball courts and balls being spiked to the ground at alarming speeds. Volleyballs were flying in all directions as participants practised their digs and sets avidly at the nets. (In fact, walking into the courts seemed like an obstacle course in itself). As the matches ensued, the court lit up with an unmirrored vitality as the houses came together in a game of teamwork, perseverance and laughter.

The rules were modified to allow any number of touches as long as the ball did not touch the ground, which some participants made full use of as they whacked the ball around to keep it “afloat”. Laughter rang in the air when balls went soaring up to the ceiling, before falling with an unimpressive whoosh (in the same side of the court). Vertically-advantaged participants jumped for blocks over the nets, although some ended up painful crashes. Determined to save the ball, many also dived to the ground and tumbled a few inches, though the sacrifice did not always reap success.

The teamwork of every house shone through each game that evening. However, BB’s solid receives stood no chance against MT’s fierce play, and MT eventually emerged champions. At the end of the day, all participants had reached a consensus: “It was fun!”

Rankings:

1st: MT

2nd: BB

3rd: BW

4th: HH

5th: MR

Basketball: Get your Head in the Game!

By Sarah Chen (19S03C)

Photo courtesy of Brendon Loo (19S03H) from Raffles Photographic Society

Midway through the second week of TRGs, boys and girls battled it out on the basketball courts in half-court matches of 6 minutes each. From the sheer number of boys turning up for the games, it was clear that this was one of the more popular TRGs among the boys. The girls, on the other hand, were much fewer in number – there weren’t even enough MR girls to form a team.

Regardless, all the teams went all out, aggressively blocking their opponents to fight for each point. Spectators were just as involved in the games, watching closely and cheering even when their house wasn’t playing. In one match, the non-sports boys of BB and BW had the whole basketball court roaring with excitement. The BW boys were on a roll, scoring point after point in what was perhaps the most thrilling match of the day. Balls flew towards the basket from all possible areas of the cramped half-court, and with each unbelievable score, even the student referees were yelling with the crowd. Though BW bagged an impressive win over BB with a score of 15-2 in this particular match, it still wasn’t enough to beat MT, who emerged as the overall champion of this intense TRG.

Rankings:

1st: MT

2nd: BW

3rd: BB

Tied for 4th: MR and HH

One Earth: Searching ‘round the Globe

By Benjamin Lim (19S03I) and Nicole Chan (19S05A)

Photo courtesy of Andrew Yap (19S06Q) from Raffles Photographic Society

Why pay a small fortune for the Escape Room experience when you can do it for free at the One Earth Team Raffles Games? The rules are simple: Get out in the shortest time possible, and find and answer bonus questions about the environment to win big!

The atmosphere was brimming with excitement, peals of laughter ringing throughout the 3 classrooms used for the Escape Room. House representatives searched high and low for hidden clues that would help unlock that sly and unforgiving laptop. From witty puns to surprising tidbits of information, this Tree-RG event was not only a bonding experience for the house representatives, but also one filled with learning and great fun.

“How many years does it take for a glass bottle to decompose?” – A bonus question.

“400 years,” someone shot back confidently.

“No, 4000,” the facilitator replied, to the amusement of his teammates. Such was the mood for most of the event: light-hearted fun, with the inter-house competition aspect a bonus for most.

As this global expedition came to a close, we’re glad to say all the participants came out safely.

Rankings:

1st: HH

Tied for 2nd: MR and BB

4th: MT

5th: BW

Floorball: Sticks and Spirit

By Joyce Lee (19S06O) and Kwee Qiao Ying (19S03K)

Photo courtesy of Amy Lin (19A01B) of Raffles Photographic Society

A terrified referee leaps out of the court to avoid being entangled in a violent clash of sticks and limbs, but the players are oblivious to his presence, their eyes completely focused on the ball as they fight for its possession. This intense display of competitive spirit was merely one of many during the floorball TRG last Friday.

From the very first match between BW and BB, it was clear that all participants were playing with only one goal in mind— winning. To achieve that end, they pulled no punches. The sound of sticks clashing reverberated around the hall, the floor of the ISH trembled under players’ rapid footsteps, and balls flew out of courts countless times as both teams chased relentlessly after them. In one game, the floorball was not the only thing sent flying – one BW player dropped his stick midway through the game, sending it skidding across the floor. Another player from BW performed an impressive split to stop the ball from rolling into his team’s net and a few players tripped over the barrier while trying to wrest the ball from their opponents.

Most of the teams were evenly matched, adding to the heated competition. Players from both the sports and non-sports courts played commendably well, and could be seen hitting their sticks on the floor in frustration over small moments of negligence. After many close-fought matches, MT eventually emerged champions.

Rankings:

1st: MT

2nd: BB

Tied for 3rd: BW and MR

5th: HH

HSTA: Pacific Rim 3

By Keziah Lam (19A01B)

Photo courtesy of Timothy Low (19S06L) from Raffles Photographic Society

HSTA’s Friday TRG was the first of its kind- a unique simulation designed to mimic a crisis cabinet in a Model United Nations conference. The aim of the game was simple. Delegates from different nations were to work together (or not) to defeat Godzilla in what proved to be an engaging, albeit chaotic- and, at times, simply farcical- crisis session.

Working in their individual houses, participants put their imagination and eloquence to the test as they came up with increasingly innovative directives (actions sent to the organisers in the backroom that would shape the direction of the crisis) and tried to fit as many bad puns into their speeches as possible (in the case of some delegates more than others). Despite most having never attended a MUN conference before, the delegates were participative and did their best to secure the floor’s attention and the backroom’s validation. Ultimately, the team from MR, representing North Korea, won out thanks to their shrewd strategy and consistency.

To quote HSTA president Andrew Lau (19A01B): “From Godzilla’s explosive diarrhoea to generals caught [redacted] with high school boys, the participants’ ingenuity and capacity for messed up ideas never failed to amaze us.”

Crisis blog with updates can be accessed here: https://biglizardattack.tumblr.com/

Directives sent by the delegations can be accessed at tinyurl.com/explosivediarrhoea. They are purely fictional and are not to be taken as a reflection of the delegates’ true selves. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Rankings:

1st: MR

2nd: HH

3rd: MT

4th: BW

5th: BB

Table Tennis: Tables aren’t just for Studying

By Ina Song (19S07C)

Photo courtesy of S Rahul (19S06A) from Raffles Photographic Society

In this very last match of all of TRG 2018, the participants gave it their all.

Before the game, some of the participants could be seen training at the Table Tennis table in the cRIb. Others trickled into the MPH early to prepare themselves for the matches. Apart from the rhythmic hitting of white and orange ping pong balls, silence reigned in the hall. Though quiet, the hall was filled with excitement throughout the entire duration of the game. This was evident even for some of the non-participating spectators, who were so pumped that they started a mini improvised Table Tennis match of their own with the help of a Badminton net on the stage. As the matches progressed, the enthusiasm of the participants only grew, in fact, a few participants from MR and MT were actively playing friendly matches even after the games ended past 7pm.

The MRians emerged as champions, but more importantly, every participant across the 5 houses were all winners in their own ways, having persevered that evening.

Rankings:

1st: MR

2nd: BW

3rd: BB

4th: MT

5th: HH

With months of planning and hard work invested into the event, TRG this year was no doubt an unqualified success. Fighting for every point and cheering each other on definitely brought out the house spirit in all of us, and was a much-needed respite from studying all day long.

Raffles Press hopes TRG was an enjoyable and refreshing experience for all! With that, the snitch has been caught!

By Mabel Yet (19S03Q) and Varun Karthik (19S06A)

Photos courtesy of Kathryn Oei (19A01A) from Raffles Photographic Society

In a perfectly ordered universe, we would hop out of our beds each morning at the keen ringing of our alarms. We’d buzz with energy as we attend all of our lectures and produce top-notch grades almost effortlessly. And we’d never break or buckle even under mounting pressure.

On the surface, it seems like everyone has got their act together, as we are expected to have. Having been blessed with so many privileges–from having a proper education to not having to worry about your next meal–it’s only expected that our lives ought to be impeccable and Oh So Wonderful. Yet, it is these expectations that have shrouded the difficult topic of mental health in shadow.

In a bid to shed light on mental health disorders and encourage the school population to take care of their mental health, Raffles PHP (Peer Helpers Programme) organised Mental Health Awareness Week from 23-27 July. Through sharing sessions, goodie bags, and interactive booths that lined the canteen walkway, students got a glimpse into the lives of sufferers of rarer mental health disorders and were reminded of the importance of being kind not only to others, but to ourselves as well.

Interpersonal connection

Since entering JC, many have lamented that it’s become increasingly difficult to know someone on a deeper level. Friendships, left to the test of time and unforgiving busyness, seem to have been reduced to ‘hi’s and ‘bye’s (exchanged ritualistically in a span of five seconds, no more no less) as we hurry off to our next commitments.

“Though everyone’s all caught up with their own lives, it’s important to have people you have a deeper connection with,” Rama Venkatesh (19S03Q) commented, “Otherwise you’ll end up keeping everything to yourself.”

Through conversation cards and a photobooth, Interpersonal Connection urges us to strive to forge authentic connections with their friends. These cards remind us to spend ‘real’ quality time with others, to actively engage with and listen to them to show that we care. And in a school where everyone seems to be caught up in their own lives, it’s especially important for us to keep reaching out. We promise it’s worth the effort.

A Touch Journey

It’s convenient to associate others’ stellar grades with just intelligence, hard work and discipline, to assume the route to such flourishing success is smooth-sailing and free from adversities. Yet, it’s important to realise that no one’s lives are as simple as we think. Whether we are battling with relationships, academics, hardships or with ourselves (or all of the above), we all experience stress at some point or another, and have to find avenues to let them out.

“As our theme is ‘feel’, the first thing I thought of was [our sense of] touch,” Peer Helper Teo Jun Hua (19A01A) quipped. “We wanted to do something more experiential that can promote mental health, while being more physical at the same time.”  

Indeed, with boxes of bubble wrap and recycled magazine pages free for us to wreck, A Touch Journey brings us through (hopefully) surefire ways to release our pent-up frustration.

“The Paper ‘Tear’-apy was especially well-received,” Jun Hua conveyed. Inspired by Singapore’s first ever rage room (where participants can smash things to their heart’s desire for a much-needed anger therapy), the idea of ruthlessly tearing up magazines definitely drew crowds, evident from the box brimming with scraps of discarded paper.

Besides the above methods, the booth also suggests doing yoga and breathing exercises to relieve the tension in our bodies. While they might not automatically take your problems away, taking out time for yourself clears your mind. Especially in our daily hustles, knowing when to take a breather is especially crucial — don’t beat yourself up over it.  

ASMR (Autonomous Sensory Meridian Response)

Most people have some idea what ASMR is about, or at least they think they do. They might have seen a playlist on Spotify or heard one of their friends casually drop the abbreviation during a conversation. However, as much as the term ASMR has became a buzzword, the unfortunate reality is that most people do not know what ASMR actually is.

This gap in knowledge is what the posters attempted to fill by educatingvisitors about what ASMR really is, the sources of ASMR and its purported benefits. It also aimed to inform visitors about the tangible ways one could use ASMR as a form of stress-relief. This was accompanied by an interactive booth consisting of slime, synthetic clay and cloths (amongst others), where they attempted to stimulate and give visitors some of these alleged ASMR “tingles”.

“Our objectives were to introduce the school population to ASMR audios as an outlet for stress relief and also conduct a small experiment on whether students did actually get the physical ASMR sensation!” Rayna Mak (19S03O) explained, “What many people don’t realise is that ASMR can actually act as a healthy form of stress relief, so we wanted to make the benefits of ASMR more well-known in school.”

As for the effectiveness of the project, the writers were listening to a newly discovered ASMR playlist on Spotify as they finished up this article. Give it a try and let us know if you get any of these purported tingles.

Project Love Yourself

‘Why do I not have clear skin? I hate how I look. Why are my thighs so big?’ These were some of the things scribbled on the ‘bad mirror’, which reflected the self-deprecating thoughts of someone with negative body image.

How often have such thoughts crossed your mind and lodged themselves there? How many times a day do you mirror-check only to feel even more dissatisfied with how you look? Whether consciously or unconsciously, rarely do most of us get through a day without criticising ourselves. In our pursuit to reach a warped ‘ideal’, we neglect to embrace ourselves for who we are, instead choosing to pick apart our flaws and compare ourselves with everyone else.

“Everyone has experienced bad days when they think they don’t look good enough,” Peer Helper Pavithra (19S03A) shared on the motivations behind choosing to do this topic. “But it isn’t talked about enough.”

Though females are more commonly associated with having negative body image, men face increasing pressure to ‘look perfect’ as well (and to have hyper-muscular psychiques, despite how everyone’s body is built differently). “[Through our project,] we want to show that guys face such issues too,” added Peer Helper Samyuktha (19S03A).

But all hope isn’t lost. Opposite the ‘bad’ mirror is the ‘good’ mirror, where students were to write something nice about themselves. This activity reminds us to be kind to the body we inhabit, to shift our focus from our perceived flaws to the things we are capable of doing instead. After all, you are your own kind of beautiful.

Project U and I

Undertaking an issue that Rafflesians are probably extremely familiar with poses its own set of risks and challenges. Yet, this group boldly broached the topic of Failure, one that is close to the hearts of many. After all, it is a problem that almost everyone has had brushes with. Each one of us has had varying experiences and thus opinions.

The message of their booth was simple: Given both the prevalence of failure and the fact that failure is something very personal to an individual, we should constantly remind ourselves and our friends that our failures do not determine our worth or how good we are.

Besides the booth, the team also organised a sharing session on 25 July. In a small and intimate group, all attendees were engaged by the speakers in a free-wheeling conversation about failure. Experiences were shared and bottled-up emotions were vented. But most importantly, the event got the attendees to look at failure in a different, more nuanced light.

Mr Chin Sun Yih, an old-boy from the batch of 1982, kickstarted the session with the lessons he had learnt about failure throughout his life. From retaining a year in JC to having to shutter his business after 10 years, and having to tirelessly work his way up and eventually thrive in his new field, his story was captivating and inspired us. His advice and take on failure also resonated with many.

He was followed shortly after by Mr Wahid, a GP relief tutor and also an old boy, who shared his own JC experiences from the not-too distant past. Lastly, Jing Rong (18A03A) wrapped up the first half by sharing about her unconventional schooling life and her unique perspectives towards failure in the education system, or really, various education systems spanning multiple countries and multiple schools.  

The second half took the form of a discussion where all the participants shared their own experiences dealing with failure and the lessons they had learnt from them. Participants were given the opportunity to hear a multitude of opinions and thoughts, encouraging them to reflect anew upon their own setbacks.

When asked about how the sharing session went, Charis Ng (19S03B), who is part of Project U and I, wittly remarked, “We don’t know if it was a failure or not. But if it was, it doesn’t matter — it just proves our point.”

Synesthesia: Uniting the senses

Have you ever wondered how it would be like to be able to taste sound, see scents or smell colours?

Synesthesia is a neurological condition where people experience “crossed” responses to stimuli. For example, associating words with taste or sounds with colours. For most people unaware of this condition, it sounds rather abstract and mind-boggling, leading to a lack of empathy towards synesthetes because it sounds like they’re just ‘making it up’.

In an attempt to shed light on this rather obscure neurological disorder, this booth explains how living with synesthesia can be emotionally trying, especially when his/her peers are less than understanding. However, many regard their condition as a gift instead — a stark example being that of Melissa McCracken, who translates the sounds she hears everyday into spectacular artworks.

Through an exploration of this unique neurological condition, students managed to get a glimpse into the stimulating world a synesthete navigates daily, evoking both empathy and admiration for the synesthetes scattered among our population.

ADHD (Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder)

Most of us have heard the term thrown around so casually that we might have become desensitized to it. Yet, we fail to realise that ADHD is a real mental disorder affecting many in our midst.

Given that statistics show that 1 in 10 school-aged children are affected by ADHD, what are the odds that one of the children you have interacted with while volunteering or one of your friend’s younger siblings have this condition? In spite of this, we persist in painting all individuals with ADHD with broad stereotypes and hasty assumptions. This very trend is precisely what the group in charge of said booth is trying to reverse.

When approached about his group’s project, Andrew Lau from class 19A01B shared that his group “wanted to raise awareness about ADHD, especially since [they] felt it was a term thrown around without much understanding of what it exactly constitutes.”

While their booth might not immediately shatter all stigma attached to ADHD, it does educate students and get them to reflect upon their own words and actions. Hopefully, it also acts as a starting point for difficult conversations and discussions about a condition that afflicts many around us.

Heart on My Sleeve

Borderline Personality Disorder: we all know the meaning of these three words individually, but our knowledge ends when you put them together. In order to create awareness for this rarer disorder, this team characterized the symptoms and signs of BPD, as well as shared about the various ways to manage BPD.

Students were also encouraged to write down their feelings and stick it on their sleeves. “[We aim] to get people to be honest with how they feel and express it,” Peer Helper Ying Ting (19S06F) explained.

Learning about BPD is very different from learning to identify signs of BPD in those around us, or even in ourselves. Being well-informed about the condition might not adequately prepare us for a situation where someone we know personally suffers from BPD (which is more likely to occur than we allow ourselves to believe). Nonetheless,  this is a necessary starting point in creating awareness for a prevalent yet often ignored condition.

While such awareness campaigns can fill in the gaps in our knowledge of mental health and encourage us to think more deeply about ourselves, our surroundings and our actions, there is only so much that can be brought across in one week.

Having difficult conversations about mental health requires every one of us to be open-minded and engage one another in a mature and rational manner. Though we can never completely shatter the taboo around mental health disorders, we can be more conscious of our actions and understand the weight our casual comments hold.

In the end, it boils down to every one of us. In the midst of our relentless pursuits, let us not forget to reach out to the individuals around us—we’d never know much it’ll mean to them.

By Sarah Chen (19S03C), Rachel Lee (19A01D) and Keziah Lam (19A01B)

Disclaimer: This article, like all other Raffles Press articles, is not sponsored.

You don’t need to be an active frequenter of social media sites to notice the latest food-related fad, especially prominent with the new healthy addition of bubble tea to our school. For the uninitiated, this latest trend refers to the sudden appearance of a bunch of student-run Instagram pages encouraging more environmentally friendly lifestyles. These accounts may be run by a wide variety of students, but not unlike school meme pages, they all have a similar layout. A snazzy username made up of a school name and a phrase such as (but not limited to): plastic-free, straw-free or zero waste, a couple of anonymous student admins, regular posts with tips on how to make small changes in your lifestyle, and of course: the sale of metal straws.

To find out the school community’s opinions, we asked people around us about their genuine feelings towards the metal straw debacle. Responses ranged from “It’s cool that people are trying to do something for the environment” to more cynical ones such as “I am suffering because of it, I cannot use a straw without getting shamed by my friends” and “people are just getting into it for the Instagram clout”.

Though some of the opinions gathered were definitely more extreme, majority of the students seemed mostly apathetic, remarking that the trend doesn’t affect their lifestyle much, aside from the fact that they’ve been forced to stop using plastic straws when buying their daily Milo and ice lemon tea in school. Yes, everyone is aware of the huge amount of plastic waste humans generate – we’ve been hearing this in assembly talks since primary school. But then again, don’t straws only make up 0.03% of plastic waste in the ocean? What’s with the sudden surge of straw-haters? Shouldn’t we be focusing on more important things in the world?

Anti-straw movements aren’t unique to Singapore, and have been picking up all across the world, but the fact that this trend has managed to gain this much traction within the student population is certainly noteworthy. These student-run accounts are a shining beacon for teenage advocacy, directly challenging the stereotype of self-centred and apathetic teenagers. In particular, schools such as Hwa Chong Institution can be credited with being one of the pioneers of this movement, having started the sale of straws as far back as April, while other schools were only quick to do so in June or July, with @plasticfreeraffles being an example closer to home.

An Interview with Raffles’ Very Own

In order to gain a deeper understanding of student advocacy and what motivates it, we sought the opinion of the admins behind the aforementioned account involved in the plastic-free movement, and a growing social media presence with 250 followers.

(This interview was conducted over text as the admins wish to remain anonymous.)

1. How did you find out about this cause?

We gained inspiration largely from Instagram pages like @nocarrierpls and @byobottlesg! Lately there’s also been school pages popping up as well, like @strawfreecj and @strawfreenp.

2. Why is this cause important and relevant in society?

We generate so much waste in Singapore but people are not talking about it. In schools alone many students use straws every day when buying drinks from the canteen or, in RI’s case, Chill. Apart from straws, excessive and unnecessary single-use plastic is saddeningly abundant; it’s a common sight to see people taking carriers for their drinks when they clearly can hold the drink in their hand.

Recycling culture in Singapore is also really weak and most of the items we throw into recycling bins don’t actually get recycled due to various reasons like contamination; furthermore, objects such as straws are too light to be recycled.

It may be the case that people don’t see, or don’t care about, the long term and accumulated impact of their actions. Regardless of whether one is unaware or just plain selfish, both contribute to the severity of the situation of excessive single-use plastic.

Not to mention, single-use plastics have earned a place in stores everywhere for their convenience — sandwiches at Chill are packaged in plastic containers; muffins and pastries come in plastic bags. There’s no denying that single-use plastic culture is largely prevalent and will take a significant collective effort on the part of student and staff to be uprooted.

3. Why did you decide it was worthy enough to advocate for?

Not only is there a pressing need to reduce waste, as elaborated earlier, but this problem is a widespread one dependent on the small daily actions of individuals, making advocacy a feasible and effective medium for us to create tangible impact. We believe we have the capacity to change our schoolmates’ mindsets and actions, and this will hopefully go a long way in reducing waste in the long run. This in turn improves consumer habits, reduces waste, cuts carbon emissions, keeps the seas clean, et cetera — making it a more than worthy cause to advocate for.

4. Have you received any negative feedback/response? If so, what?

Yes unfortunately :( My friend mentioned that she didn’t bother following the account or keeping up with the green movement because she felt it was just a trend nowadays and everyone’s hopping onto the straw-free bandwagon. But is it not a good thing that more and more people/schools are becoming more conscious of their plastic usage? While it’s for certain that there are some people who do it just for an Instagram pic or just because a metal straw looks pretty, we’re optimistic that most who participate in this green movement are aware of its necessity and the importance of their actions.

5. Why should the school population care about this cause?

Why Shouldn’t They :P

6. How can the school population contribute to this cause?

We really just want people to start small; stop using plastic straws, avoid plastic cups or utensils, and spread the message to your friends! You may find that your single effort is way too miniscule to even matter, but the accumulated effect makes a huge difference. If 1 person can save up to 10 straws in an average school week, a class of 25 will be able to save 250! However small your efforts may seem, don’t stop because it’s all these small steps that lead to greater changes.

Hopefully, the school population becomes more conscious of their unnecessary consumption of single-use plastic and actively takes efforts to curb this before it exacerbates further! While it may be quite unnatural to bring tupperware or non-disposable cutlery like straws around at first, doing it often helps to cement it into a habit :—)

Mixed in with the admins’ positive, hopeful responses is a sad but expected truth: some critical students aren’t taking this issue very seriously. Despite the strength in numbers and outreach ability that the use of social media affords, the fact that the platform is so widely frequented by teenagers, coupled with the fact that these pages thrive on photo submissions from followers to spread the word, almost undermines its legitimacy. It highlights the rapid spread of such trends born from social media, but also the transience of it— just as quick to die down as it was to rise.

Looking at other social media crazes (say, slime and self-care threads), it’s understandable that many lack faith in this one. Not only does it seem temporal, some question the motives behind supporters of the trend, thinking they’re just hopping on the bandwagon. While trends like this help to create awareness for a social issue, the skepticism of its staying power and motivations can distract people from the underlying significance of this traction-gaining movement.

And the movement is making waves. Other corporations around the world have committed to this cause, such as Starbucks pledging to phase out plastic straws by 2020. The effectiveness of this policy has yet to be seen, and people continue to question why the world is fixating on a small innocent straw of all things. But it’s through that straw – something ubiquitous in our daily life – that makes the problem seem all the more real to us. Activists and companies are hoping that the humble straw will be able to spark off a greater interest in conserving and creating sustainably as a whole. The straws are not meant to be the endpoint, but a start towards a more environmentally conscious humanity.

So, what does all this change? At best, an apathetic reader’s mind about the whole issue. Or maybe it won’t change anything at all. What we’re hoping is to at least make some readers reconsider their opinions on the whole movement, be it enthusiasm or apathy. It might sound ludicrous when our friends tell us to forgo a tiny straw for the sake of saving the environment (and the turtles, of course), but it doesn’t mean that that statement isn’t entirely true. Yes, straws may only constitute 0.03% of the plastic waste in our ocean, but if we aren’t even willing to take this baby step, we’ll never be able to reach the other 99.97%.

After all, the plastic-free movement encompasses a wide range of unnecessary plastic packaging and embellishments. Why stop at just straws? To prove that this isn’t just some short-lived fad centred around the aesthetique of metal straws, we need to show that we’re making the effort to eradicate all kinds of plastic from our lives. To start simply, we can easily turn down plastic carriers or bags we don’t need – we always have our school bags and pockets! Instead of purchasing mineral water bottles from convenience stores, we can make a point to bring our own reusable ones instead. Or reject the plastic containers that come with takeaway food in favour of our own reusable Tupperware. While we might not have control over some plastic use (such as the plastic sandwich boxes and bags in Chill), we can change what we do have control over.

This may have all started from straws, but let’s make sure this movement doesn’t just end here.

By Wong Zi Yang (19A01D) and Joyce Lee (19S06O)
Photos courtesy of the 38th Student’s Council

Managing a 1200-strong student population with a team of 60 is no easy task — especially with the additional burden of academics, and for some, a second CCA. In spite of all this, our newly-inaugurated student Councillors strive to overcome these tribulations to bring a little something into the lives of Rafflesians. To get to know our new Councillors better, Raffles Press presents part two of our feature on the 38th Student’s Council, as interviewees Chew Jay Hong (19A13A), Tan Huiying (19S06O), and Fu Xianli (19S03O) share their feelings about Council and the ideals they wish to realise for the student population.

1. Although you just joined Council, do you feel that there are already clashes between academics/CCA work?

Jay Hong: I think, to some extent of course, as Councillors there is a certain expectation of us in terms of workload, and sometimes it sort of clashes when, say, some of us 38ths have a second CCA and EXCO positions in Council; [these responsibilities] may be hard to reconcile. I think the problem we all face is not necessarily clashes, but how to deal with certain things; how to set priorities, say for exam revision or Project Work. The hardest part, I think, is not to sleep too late (like at 2am!) and to try to put in our best as Councillors even when the going gets tough. Sometimes it’s so hectic trying to put things together that we lose our enthusiasm and drive. So I think that’s the main problem that we need to be solved — we just started off our term, so I don’t want to jump to conclusions!

Huiying: I don’t know about other Councillors, but for myself personally it has already shown that time management is very important — that’s what I feel so far. It’s like what Jay Hong said, it’s about prioritising, because there are a lot of things to do, and JC by itself is not an easy thing; in general there’s always that moment where you are trying to decide which is more urgent and act accordingly. There are measures in place to make sure we don’t fall behind academically — there’s the block-out period — Council is also involved during the CCA block-out period [whereby Council work is not to be done during this period].

Jay Hong: To build on that, one more point is that the general perception is that, because of the nature of our Council work, our lives revolve only around Council throughout our 2 years here. We hope to debunk that perception because as Councillors first and foremost we are just like our batchmates — just like regular students, we fail our CTs as well, so we have to deal with that.

In Council, we ensure that we don’t make it a 24/7 affair: we have block-outs. We make it a point that besides our Council work, we also try to pursue our other commitments and build stronger relationships with those outside Council as well, and I think that is the defining role of what at least each councillor tries to do.

Xianli: I think to echo what Jay Hong has to say, for us Councillors, as we are recognised as the student leaders of our school, we have a strong sense of duty towards the school population.

For example, during our peak periods, the natural thing to do would be to like structure our timetables, our schedules, around Council commitments because I think that’s something that is important. That doesn’t mean our lives revolve around Council work though, as what Jay Hong mentioned, we have curfews as well, we have block-out periods. We can see what challenges lie ahead, so that we can, if possible, do things ahead of time before block-our period in case it’s too late.

Then there’s also the block-out period which mostly applies to teachers, since we don’t want to disturb them (after 6pm). I think that’s a form of respecting teachers’ personal time and also helps us plan our strategies for communication properly. Indeed, Council takes up a lot of time, but from our seniors, our role models, it is evident that it is definitely possible to balance both Council work and academics.

2. [To Jay Hong] How do you feel about being elected as Student Council President?

Ah, frankly it’s quite a scary role for me; in spite of my previous experiences, being Student Council President is unique in the sense that, compounded with the hustle and bustle of JC life, there’s always something new to learn (and to screw up!) on the job every day. For the large part, however, I’m really humbled by the dedication that my fellow 38ths display in the execution of their duties, and the fact that they always go above and beyond in their work. Therefore, one thing I’m really grateful for is the opportunity to work much more closely with a tightly-knit team this year. Our batch has 60 members, which is actually a much smaller size as compared to the average batch sizes of 75-80. But, I think that allows us to form deeper bonds within the Council, and it’s also a good opportunity for us as Councillors to prove our mettle in spite of the gap in numbers.

I think the perception would be that [the Presidency] is a very lofty role that makes me detached from the school, but I think instead, being president has allowed me to reach more people, as just the average Jay Hong, I guess!

I think that whatever roles we have in Council, our student leadership system is still rather egalitarian, everyone has a voice, and that’s the direction I want to lead our Council into and to better serve the school community together.

3. What are some of the challenges you foresee Council facing?

Jay Hong: First and foremost, would be time constraints. I think that is the perennial problem for our batch, once you come in. We’ve just started off our term, but if we count the number of weeks we have left, we barely have enough time to cover all bases, and this calls for us to really plan ahead. I think in Council, one thing we pride ourselves on is the ability to be adaptable — there’s always something happening every week, and if we can’t respond to sudden changes, that snowballs into greater problems for our future events — so I think that is one problem. Also, well, we have a smaller batch size, but I believe it’s something we can find our way through.

The second problem that I foresee is trying to reach out to the school more. Council will do our best to continue to build and strengthen our relationship with the rest of the school population. We hope in our initiatives that we can reach out to our Rafflesians and likewise allow everyone to understand how Council works and what we stand for, and that’s one challenge we foresee but are hoping to overcome.

4. What are some of the most pressing issues in school that Council aims to address in your term?

Huiying: I think, because I’m taking departments, the main thing, departments-wise, is to promote inquisitiveness and to encourage school spirit. That’s one of the main issues that arise basically every school year — for Council, for Commz’D (the Communications Department), the major initiative we have is a feedback drive — a tea session for students to come down and talk to Councillors, who will then compile the feedback and send it in the form of a report to the Principal at the end of the year.

Another issue that comes up every year would be school spirit. A lot of people complain that school or house spirit basically dies after Orientation, and only comes back during events, but in our everyday lives it’s not something that everyone believes exists — it’s just for show. So I think that for us, I hope that we can ensure that every Rafflesian feels that school spirit isn’t just something that comes out of nowhere during an event, or something that is simply superficial, but something that you feel- a feeling like you belong here, and that the school is a home to you. That’s the main thing that I’m aiming to do, I suppose.

Jay Hong: I think that one would be communication — another would be, strengthening unity in school as well. I think first and foremost, [since] RJ is a huge school — 1.2k in our batch — it’s really hard to be able to know everyone, and probably sometimes we believe it’s better to stay within our class and those we are familiar with, but I believe as council, what we hope to do is to give Rafflesians the opportunity to branch out and meet others beyond their normal social circles. It’s a lofty goal, that I think is definitely going to be difficult to achieve, given the short time span and considering that JC is a measly two years, but I believe that if people take their JC experience well and have an open heart — which is what council is striving to do — that will give everyone a more pleasant experience.

Lastly, it would probably just be a general disdain or ‘dead-ness’. We’re constantly tired, since JC is constantly draining our souls. *laughs* Therefore, I suppose what we hope to do is make a small difference in the lives of Rafflesians where we can, such as every morning when you step into Gryphon Square— these are the little things that matter, to just sort of perk peoples’ day up. And as Council, we want to make the student population understand that we’re all in this together, so we hope to extend support wherever needed. That does not need to be in the form of large-scale events, but just through what we do consistently to help the student population feel that this is an environment in which they can look to for support.

5. Do you have any plans in the works the student body can look forward to?

Huiying: If I were to be perfectly honest, we do have some ideas, but most [of them] are not finalised yet. Actually, this year, we are scrapping and changing a few things because we have a smaller batch, so the amount of time and effort we can commit is quite limited, which is a challenge we are currently facing. As for what the student body can look forward to, I suppose where school spirit is concerned, for Spirit Week next year, we’re planning to put in more budget. Like Batch Night [last year], where all the Year 5 and Year 6 students were invited to come in their CCA groups — so basically, people came down to order pizza through Council and there were games. We’re considering adding that to Spirit Week next year. Right now, I feel like it’s hard to give anything concrete, as our final plans are still not finalised yet.

Jay Hong: [We are] still in the formative stages of planning, yes, but one direction we hope to take is to give the student population more input, in small ways — for example, we recently introduced our morning song choices on our Team Raffles Instagram page, and we hope to make that a permanent fixture. I think giving the student population a voice and sort of making our events more collaborative, such that it’s not exclusively Council planning it but rather a collective effort on the part of the batch as well- that is what we hope to achieve. 

Huiying: Actually, I guess one more thing you can look forward to is making the Team Raffles page more interactive, so it’s not just us posting match support all the time, or posting about school events. Since there’s a lot of new features on Instagram, we want to do something that will make the students feel like it’s actually something they can follow and be updated about, like the song choices, and for the recent match supports we have decided to do live streaming. So everyone, even if you’re not at the match, you can still take a look — that’s one of the more concrete plans we have.

Certainly, school spirit is necessary to inject a little something into drab school mornings. Though it may seem a lofty goal, the 38th Student’s Council appears determined to facilitate a positive JC experience for all of us. Raffles Press looks forward to what Council has in store for the school and wishes them all the best in their term ahead!

By Mr. Christopher Selvaraj from the KS Department
Cover photo by Differantly, a Paris/Berlin-based artist duo

These can be challenging times to think through the state of race relations in Singapore. Growing sensitivities to micro-aggressions and unconscious biases, racial privilege and cultural appropriation, reductive representations and linguistic assault, among other things, have made for a brew of simmering discontent that periodically spills out into our collective consciousness. These are complicated times – and it can seem simpler to sit and watch the waters swell.

So it was with great interest that I read “Is Appreciation Enough?” by Phang Yeu Yeou and Loh Lin, and “On Racism and Chinese Privilege” by Soh Ying Qi, a couplet of two recent thoughtful commentaries that set out to carefully consider racial harmony and race relations in Singapore. Both pieces reflect authors keen and willing to lay out the depth, complexity, and nuance of race relations. Both pieces reflect authors grappling with an important question: Are we doing enough to weave solidarity and community from the threads of diversity in which we find ourselves entangled? In both pieces, the answer to this question is “no”.

What I find most compelling about the articles is their dissatisfaction with the status quo. Yeu Yeou and Loh Lin push us to seriously consider if simply learning to accept and appreciate that we live among a variety of cultures and ethnicities is enough to make claims to racial harmony. For them, the “complex socio-cultural issue” of racial harmony warrants collective efforts at deeper understandings and a constant interrogation of our beliefs, if we are ever to make inroads into cross-cultural appreciation. For Ying Qi, it is no longer enough to stand by and profess that we are not part of the problem of racial insensitivity and discrimination; instead, the onus is on each one of us to examine ourselves closely as we work towards being part of positive change.

Still, as both pieces ponder in different ways: What exactly does positive change mean? And, drawing on the words of Mr. Muhammed Faizad bin Salim, my colleague in the Knowledge Skills department: What does positive change look like? What does positive change sound like? What does positive change feel like? Caught between a constant stream of comforting clichés on the one hand, and a paralysing sense of the unintended consequences that hang over every move we make on the other, how do we act?

My suggestion is that we keep things simple.

If there is anyone who embodies the courage it takes to be simple in the face of complex deep-rooted problems, it is Mr. Cai Yinzhou, a young social entrepreneur who spoke to the Y6 cohort as part of Total Defence Day this year. Of all the ground-up initiatives he has started, the one that I remember the most is #BackAlleyBarbers: occasions when Yinzhou and a team of volunteers offer haircuts to migrant workers and the poor on weekends. The forces driving the inequality and discrimination both these groups must confront are multifaceted and immense, and I am always amazed that an act as simple as a haircut is somehow able to hold these forces at bay – if only just for a while. True, wider structural problems and contradictions remain unresolved; but, for a moment, there is the spark of connection and the potential for friendship.

Closer to home, as part of our Racial Harmony activities this year, we were reminded that taking the time to listen to and acknowledge the stories our peers and friends share about their experiences and struggles with diversity can make all the difference. These acts, on their own, will not be enough to reshape our social institutions. What they can do, though, is help build a responsive and supportive Rafflesian community committed to facing these problems head on.

If anything, these examples remind me that human decency is built on the simple things. In the face of the most entrenched evils, the grandest intentions pale in comparison to the smallest efforts at kindness. What, then, might this decency look like, sound like, and feel like in the case of race relations in Singapore?

First, decency is about the willingness to bend under the weight of another’s actions or words. In the face of racial insensitivity or cultural ignorance, we have become too quick to stiffen in offence, react with indignation, and demand penance. The culture these days seems to take great pride in calling out and shaming prejudice of all sorts. I’ve sometimes wondered what good can come of this other than the fleeting self-satisfaction that accompanies a smug sense of perceived moral superiority. Similarly, It is difficult to imagine how someone could be shamed into letting go of his or her prejudice.  Imagine instead if you responded to prejudice with kindness. It would, perhaps, take all the force out of it. Still, kindness can be a tricky thing: sometimes it calls for patience, other times for humor, still other times for forgiveness. It is difficult to decide which response best fits the situation we are confronted with and I’ll be the first to admit that I’ve gotten it wrong countless times. What I do know, though, is that we get better at responding with kindness when we are deliberate about it.

Next, decency is about cultivating a genuine interest in the lives of the people around you. This sort of openness is less concerned with demanding justification for behaviour encountered and more attentive to the meaning practices hold for individuals from different ethnic communities. A simple rephrasing of the questions you ask would show this. For example, instead of asking some of your Indian female friends “Why do you have a dot on your forehead?”, try asking “What is the meaning of dotting your forehead for you?” You might be surprised at the variety and depth of responses you receive.

Finally, decency is about the attention we pay to our everyday decisions. Do we forward the racist jokes we receive? Do we make an effort to pronounce – or to find out how to pronounce – the names of our friends from different ethnic communities properly? Do we consider the dietary needs of our friends when selecting a place to eat? The expectations each of us hold ourselves to about the little things go a long way in determining how we move forward together as a nation when it comes to race relations.

If there is one thing we can agree on: Confronting race relations in Singapore involves navigating difficult and, at times, treacherous waters. Caught in the turbulent current of the times, perhaps it is time to remember that it is often the simplest things that are our surest anchors.

By Loh Su Jean (19A01A) and Loh Lin (19A01D)

Photos courtesy of Celine Chua (19S03H) 

On the Wednesday afternoon of 25 July, an antiseptic hush descends upon the Innovation Centre. The usually empty space is now unrecognisable. A dozen reclining chairs have taken over the room, flanked by standing trolleys of medical tubing, bags, and bandages. When we arrive at 3 PM, six students are already occupying these chairs, arms outstretched and fingers curling around foam pumps. The blood donation drive is smoothly under way.

Donating blood for the first time seems — no, is — daunting, but the process is faster and less painful than one would expect. The entire process takes about forty minutes to an hour, with the actual collection lasting no more than ten minutes. The two of us separate here: one of us makes a beeline for the green privacy curtains while the other, unable to donate blood, hangs back and surveys the room.   

***

A seasoned staff member takes my blood pressure and checks the size of my veins. They appear a little problematic, but she handles the situation with an unruffled ease that comes with being a medical worker who has probably seen everything there is to see. Refusing to give up, she rubs my forearm vigorously until she is satisfied with the blue-green knot that appears beneath my skin. While filling in an extensive questionnaire to determine my eligibility as a donor, I am offered a can of 100plus to drink.

The staff administer a quick finger-prick to check my haemoglobin levels: a minimum of 12.5 g/dL is required for female donors and 13.0 g/dL for males. I have never been bitten by an ant before, but this is probably less painful. Before there is time for second doubts, I am ushered to a chair and the collection process begins.

***

I grimace as the staff dabs at Su Jean’s arm with alcohol before injecting local anaesthesia. I reach for her hand, although it is more for my sake than her’s. The glint of the thicker-than-usual needle makes me slightly anxious, but looking around, few people seem to share my sentiment. Stretched out on reclining chairs and surrounded by friends who came to offer support, most of the donors appear unperturbed, sipping the drinks provided by the RCY Blood Drive Team and chatting away easily.

My attention soon returns to my fellow reporter, who stills herself in anticipation of the needle. It pierces skin in a flash, and the blood collection begins. The staff reminds her to keep still for ten minutes, then moves on to repeat the process with a waiting donor. I blink, then ask Su Jean how she feels. She blinks.

“I didn’t feel anything. It’s a little anticlimactic.”

***

It really is anticlimactic.

Noticing that I am a first-time donor, the staff member makes easy conversation with me as she cuffs my arm and swabs the crook of my elbow. I try not to look at the collection needle that is nestled amongst the basket of tubes and bandages, but cannot resist the temptation. It winks menacingly in the afternoon light, and is noticeably hollow.

Anticipating my apprehension, the staff member pats my hand and produces a much thinner needle containing a small quantity of local anaesthesia.

“This is the most painful part. Afterwards you won’t feel anything.”

The prick of the needle is over before it begins, and stings less than your typical flu jab. She leaves to let the local anaesthesia take effect, and I share a look with Lin, who has her brow creased in an expression that I am simply unequipped to decipher.

Before long, the lady returns. She prods my arm; it is fascinating to register the movement visually but feel nothing. I am marginally more encouraged.

Though the idea of needles doesn’t paralyse me with fear, I decide that it’s best to look away as she lines the collection needle up against my vein and tells me to take a deep breath. I quickly try to think of distractions (Is the plural of mongoose mongeese? Who came up with the word ‘oligopoly’ anyway?) and brace myself for- well, nothing. There is no sharp pain as the needle pierces skin, only a dull, tugging pressure as she adjusts the angle and deftly tapes the tube to my arm.

She unclamps the plastic tube, and its translucent length is quickly coloured a deep, rich, red by my blood. A small machine cradles the collection bag at the base of the chair, gently rocking it back and forth until 350ml of blood has been collected. They give me a foam ball to squeeze every five counts and iron tablets to take for the next week.

There is nothing much else to do now but relax with some pamphlets – did you know that the blood volume donated will be replenished by your body within 72 hours?

***

We both laugh at Su Jean’s lack of reaction, although I am still eyeing the cotton pressed to her arm. Leaving her to rest, I notice Carina Lee (19A01A) on a fully inclined chair with a blanket over her. She meets my curious gaze levelly out of the corner of her eye, and turns over in my direction as I make my way over. I soon find out that this isn’t the first donation attempt that has left her reeling: in an earlier blood drive this year, her haemoglobin levels had dipped too low, causing her to almost faint before the full amount could be collected.

This does little to frighten her away, evidently. She offers an easy smile in response to my query of why she has decided to try again.

“If you can help in some way, you should. Besides, there’s no lasting damage.”

Did it hurt? “A little”, she shrugs, “but it feels the same as falling down, and the latter isn’t productive.”

Many donors share her conviction in contributing to the cause, but most of them wave away the back-breaking sense of righteous nobility good deeds usually shoulder, remarking casually that “it doesn’t take more than an hour anyway” and that “if I can help save a life, why not?”

Mrs Yeo Yew Tin, the teacher in charge of Red Cross Youth, reaffirms this with a gentle, unfaltering smile. I had approached her tentatively, unsure if she’d oblige to an interview with the pressure of the needle heavy in the flesh of her arm. Instead, she beams at me, and settles back into the lumbar support of her chair in anticipation.  

I inquire about her experience with donating blood, to which she reveals that this is her 14th time doing so. She shakes her head at my wide-eyed wonder and gestures to another staff member nearby, informing me that she has already donated blood a total of 37 times.

“[It’s a] good cause,” she quips, “so why not? The banks need all the blood they can get!”

When I ask if she has anything to say to readers, she leans forward eagerly, mouth set in a tender but resolute line: “I would encourage the readers to donate whenever the opportunity arises. Blood is re-circulated […] anyway so you won’t lose anything! Might as well.”

***

All the donors at the drive made their efforts seem so easy, like it was just another part of their daily routine, which is what Red Cross Youth has been trying to convince us of all along. Saving a life doesn’t always involve death-defying acts of self-sacrifice; something like sitting through a quick injection and enduring temporary lightheadedness (however ordinary in comparison) fulfils the same purpose.

Most of us know someone who has needed blood transfusions due to illness or accidents, and some of us might even be that someone in the future. Blood is a precious, but sometimes elusive, life-saver. But it doesn’t have to be so — by donating blood, we increase the odds in this lottery of chance, and give others (and perhaps, ourselves) a lifeline to hold onto amidst the unpredictable waves of life.

John, a student donor who wishes to remain anonymous, knows this. “I’m from the A- blood group and it’s quite rare so anyone with this blood type won’t be able to get the help they need if there’s a shortage.”

At the end of the day, underlying this common compassion is just the simple desire to make a difference and the nerve to see it through. It doesn’t take more than an hour of our time, but for people on the flip side of circumstances, it could give them a new chance at life.

While the RCY blood donation drive has ended for this year, look out for next year’s donation drive which will take place twice throughout the year: once in February/March and again in July/August. You can also make a blood donation at Red Cross Singapore’s blood banks or community drives here, but do note the prerequisites of being a blood donor.

By Loh Su Jean (19A01A), Rachel Lee (19A01D), and Kuang Shane Qi (19A13A)

Monday mornings: exhausting, tedious, dread-inducing. This isn’t unfamiliar to the frazzled, sleep-deprived Rafflesian. But this particular Monday morning doesn’t belong to your regular Rafflesian. It belongs to three faces you may have seen in lectures or glimpsed along corridors: Ms Fiona Lio, Mr Gerald Choo, and Ms Ng Mei Sze.

Before school: 0400 – 0740

4.00 AM. A phone on a bedside table comes to life with the familiar shrill of Marimba. A hand reaches out – no, not to snooze it. The blankets are flung off, track shoes laced up, and its owner is off for her morning run.

Or at least, this is what Ms Fiona Lio would like to aspire towards.

“It only happens in my dreams. It’s never happened,” she sighs.

But some days, she does get up at this ungodly hour — not to run, but to prepare for lectures and rush some marking.

5.45 AM.  Somewhere else, an alarm is unceremoniously snoozed. Monday is a reality that can be postponed till later.

5.56 AM. The second alarm rings. It is quickly snuffed out.

6.09 AM. There is no denying it this time: Monday has arrived, and it is here to stay. Mr Choo gets up.

Mr Choo is a man of precision — he is, after all, a Chemistry tutor. A solid half-minute must be spent cleaning the lenses of his spectacles, and his (magnetic) ring must be on before he leaves the house. One of the rare few who can afford to skip a morning coffee, he hits the road on his electric scooter and is gliding into school by 7.30 AM.

Ms Ng isn’t as lucky. “I need about three to five cups of coffee, maybe even six to get through a day,” she confesses, clutching her fourth cup of the aforementioned beverage even as she is being interviewed. “Sometimes it’s the only way to get food in on a busy day. Because you put milk in, right?”

7.20 AM. Ms Lio has hopefully finished all she needs to do. As she walks briskly to the parade square, she spends a moment contemplating how her day will pan out. “You walk walk walk and you start to pray, please God I won’t be like this again,” she says with regret, remembering previously botched attempts at last-minute lecture and tutorial plans.

Block 1: 0800 – 0850

8.00 AM. Mondays are kind to Ms Lio. During Y5 protected time, she enjoys a leisurely breakfast in the canteen before attending a staff meeting.

Block 2: 0855 – 0945

8.55 AM. The school day officially begins with Mr Choo’s Chemistry tutorial with 18S03P. He strides into class, “only for everyone to go ehhhhh” and sag slightly in their seats. It may be a Monday morning, but that doesn’t stop him. With characteristic briskness, he begins by getting students to summarise the topic, before plunging into tutorial questions.

9.30 AM. Ms Ng, on the other hand, attends one of her many meetings. This one will last up to 11 AM. Her Mondays are generally packed, and she has come to accept that they are always going to be difficult.

“I know if it’s a light day you choose not to come to school,” she quips, “but teachers can’t do that.”

Block 2: 0950 – 1040

10.15 AM. Freed from the classroom at last, Mr Choo embarks on one of his “very long breaks”. During this time, he can be spotted in the staffroom clearing admin work, marking, setting exam papers, or talking to fellow colleagues. (“I mean, discussing students in general,” he adds with a conspiratorial smile.)

If the occasion calls for it, he will make the journey to RI Boarding Chill for a waffle. His favourite flavour? Kaya and peanut butter.

Block 3: 1045 – 1135

10.45 AM. Ms Lio embarks on her first lesson of the day: an Economics tutorial with 19S06E. Rolling up her sleeves, she deftly dissects key terms and lays the groundwork for essay plans, calling on students to share their points. By the end of the lesson, the entire whiteboard is covered in indecipherable handwriting and immaculate diagrams.

Block 4: 1140 – 1230

It is finally break time for Ms Ng, which she usually spends in the staffroom (“I don’t like waffles.”) During her 40-minute reprieve, she prepares lessons, checks “ten thousand” emails, and occasionally looks at some of her favourite apps and videos. Too soon, she is back in the classroom with 19A01B for a Southeast Asian History tutorial at 11.40 AM.  Ms Ng’s students agree that her tutorials are a study in intensity. Deconstructing questions with disarming ease, she gets students to frame points for different arguments before fine-tuning them for nuance and clarity. With sharp questions and banter being thrown back and forth across the classroom, her tutorials always seem to pass by in a flash.

11.40 AM. One down, two to go. This time, Ms Lio tackles Economics with 19A13A. As energy levels vary across classes, tutorials take on slightly different forms in each lesson. Fortunately, 19A13A is usually enthusiastic enough to tide her over.

With all this time spent in the classroom, one might wonder if teachers try to avoid students outside of it.

Mr Choo thinks students tend to avoid him instead. “Why? Why? Why??” Ms Ng responds quizzically. She is generally quite happy to see her students.

Block 5: 1235 – 1325

12.35 PM. This is the only break that Ms Lio gets in between her three back-to-back Economics tutorials. While most would balk at the crowd that quickly descends upon the canteen, Ms Lio finds it relaxing. This is when she gets to see her colleagues from different departments and trade stories with them. Recently, the topic of Wednesday civics has been generating a lot of discussion.

“You know, sex ed.”

For the record, she has never travelled to RI Boarding for waffles. She prefers Haw’s Kitchen, where her standard order is ban mian with very little tom yum “to maximise welfare”. Mr Choo, on the other hand, is partial to the wonton mee stall.

Block 6: 1330 – 1420

1.00 PM. Ms Lio rushes off for her third and final Economics tutorial with 19S07A. The grind never ends.

1.30 PM. The two most dreaded hours in a science student’s school week: practical sessions, this time with Mr Choo teaching the Y6 Chemistry RA class. Students look at the experiment handout, he explains theory, then dispenses safety instructions so that they “don’t kill themselves accidentally.”

After school

3.00 PM. The last bell may have rung, but the day is far from over. As the teacher IC for Raffles Players, Mr Choo can often be found en route to the Theater Studies Room to supervise sessions and fix technical disasters.

Ms Lio spends her afternoons on consults, remedial sessions, community education, and “some other committee that reads reports”.

Ms Ng, on the other hand, deals with Scholarships, Student Counselling and Higher Education, and often spends long hours counselling Y6s about the uncertain future.

5.20 PM. When it is not Players’ production season, this is typically when Mr Choo finds himself back at home. Most days, he “vegetates” by watching mindless shows (“Do you guys know Waku Waku Japan?”) before he is forced to embark on work. Other times, he helps his mother in the kitchen.

(But would he call himself a good cook? “Well, I cooked yesterday and my family survived…”)

Not all teachers prefer the sedentary lifestyle. Like many other working Singaporeans, Ms Lio typically embarks on Monday and Tuesday evening walks for the sole purpose of clocking steps. If she successfully hits her target, she can redeem $10 vouchers “to increase her real wage”.

8.00 PM. Mr Choo and his family sit down for dinner. On most nights, the various family members talk or retreat to their rooms. After this, Mr Choo spends his time “vegetating some more”, replying intermittently to WhatsApp messages, and no surprise, preparing for the next day’s lessons. He tries to sleep by 10.30 PM.

Likewise, Ms Lio’s weekday evenings are usually quiet affairs. Too tired for a weekday social life, she watches “stupid youtube videos”, musters up the resolve to start on work, and then “crashes quite early”.

Evenings for Ms Ng are much more lively. She hangs out with friends, meets ex-students (“Sadly. Just kidding, I do this very happily.”), and grabs a bite and a drink before returning to her work.

We’ve seen what a typical day in school looks like for our teachers – but what about the one-off events that don’t happen nearly every day, yet are still part of the quintessential JC experience? Take examinations, for example, which are stressful for nearly every student but offer a different experience for teachers. Ms Lio admits that boredom is unavoidable on such occasions.

“I plan my next holiday. Or start to look at students’ pencil cases to see what they’re like. One time Tsum Tsum was trending so I started looking out for it. And, and, and, don’t forget! Clocking steps.”

(Mr Choo concurs; his record is 3000 steps.)

Ms Ng, however, prefers to view the silence of examinations as a quiet respite from scurrying to and from various consultations. It is certainly more blissful compared to the hectic pace of marking which comes after.

Or, as every frazzled subject rep has almost certainly experienced, inevitable run-ins with the photocopy lady — Mr Choo recounts having to plead with her to have a set of handouts printed by Tuesday.

And of course, to answer the question on the minds of everyone who has ever found themselves wandering (not wondering) during class:

“Teachers, by the way, know — make sure you put that inside! — it’s very obvious when someone is doing things on their computer!” – Ms Ng

“I don’t know what’s so interesting about their laps…” – Mr Choo

“It is very difficult to make sure students don’t fall asleep.” – Ms Lio

Teachers teach. But that’s not all that goes into the day in the life of a teacher — from imaginary morning runs to waffles from RI Boarding, there’s more to the school day than lectures and tutorials. We know them as our lecturers and vessels of information, but behind every set of lecture notes is someone who snoozes the alarm three times, loves tom yum ban mian, and needs five cups of coffee to get through the day. So the next time you find yourself bemoaning the start of the school week, remember that on the opposite side of the lecture theatre, your teacher is probably feeling the same way too.

By Yoon Shwe Yee (19S03B) and Kwee Qiao Ying (19S03K)

Photos courtesy of Andrew Yap (19S06Q) and Ku Cheng Yong (19S06G) from Raffles Photographic Society 

How many of us know what the word “Promethean” really means? We mumble it every Wednesday morning during the Institution Anthem—“that cast Promethean flame”—, but its meaning remains elusive to most of us. For the uninitiated, Promethean means to be daringly creative or innovative, as its namesake Greek God Prometheus was, which perfectly encompasses the leadership journey of the Year 6s. The Promethean Ceremony, held on 1st August, was an event to acknowledge the unique contributions of each CCAL in bringing our school to greater levels of excellence, and marked the handing over of leadership from the Year 6s to the Year 5s.

The ceremony commenced with a wistful photo montage of the various CCAs in action, and showcased the highlights of the past CCA year. Set to the song I’m born to run, which was an apt descriptor of the Year 6s’ journey throughout the year, it evoked much nostalgia amongst the crowd.

Following this walk down memory lane, Deputy principal Mrs Rively took to the stage to deliver her opening address, in which she quoted yet another line in our Institution Anthem—“come heed the call Rafflesians all”, emphasising the phrase “Rafflesians All” to urge all students to work together with their new leaders to make a positive change in their own roles, whether big or small. She ended her speech with a note of gratitude to the outgoing CCALs, thanking them for their year of service by presenting them with medals of appreciation, to heartwarming applause.

The handover of leadership is also signified by the handover of symbols unique to each CCA, one which encapsulates the vision and mission of each CCA in their different pursuits. A noteworthy moment was when Sailing brought out their token, a large model of a sailing ship that drew gasps from the crowd. The NPCC CCALs too drew exclamations from everyone when they unsheathed the ceremonial sword. The Clubs and Societies had a variety of items too, ranging from a box of insect specimens for Biological Society, to a test tube for Alchemy Club.

The Performing Arts CCAs presented unique items as well, such as a clapperboard for Film Society. Some of the new CCALs shared an emotional moment with their seniors as they took the stage, exchanging hugs and words of gratitude, whilst others confidently strode up on stage, perfectly poised and ready to take on their new role. Regardless, the importance of this handing over of leadership, and the weight of the responsibility they were taking on, was very much felt by all of the incoming CCALs.

Following which, head of the CCA department of the 38th Students’ Council, Chloe Teo (19S03A), gave a vote of thanks. In her speech, she cleverly used the metaphor of a flight on the Promethean Airlines to describe the long journey the newly inducted CCALs had ahead of them. She likened zones of turbulence to the difficulties the CCALs might experience in their time of leadership, and reminded them to fasten their seat belts, sit tight and not to panic, for she was confident that they were competent and more than capable enough to overcome those arduous times.

There was a collective gasp from the audience as the Promethean Flame was passed, many not expecting an actual fire to be used in the ceremony. The passing over of the Promethean Flame again marked the official transfer of leadership from the Year 6s to the Year 5s. Following which, the CCALs delivered the Rafflesian Leader’s Oath with gusto, pledging to be role models who pursue excellence with fortitude, integrity, respect and enterprise. Leading a CCA requires more than just leadership, and the taking of this pledge signifies their wholehearted devotion to their roles.

After the Institution Anthem was sung, the ceremony finally drew to a close with the school cheer, Unite, drawing us back to our Orientation days when we were all new to this foreign environment. It was a poignant reminder of how far we have come in our journey at Raffles and the long journey ahead of us, especially for the new leaders who will inevitably face tough challenges ahead. Although they definitely have some big shoes to fill, we are sure that they will be confident in their new roles and serve with all their heart. Raffles Press wishes all newly inducted CCALs all the best in their journey ahead!