By Raffles Press

In our earlier article entitled A Home Away From Home, we explored how migrant communities in Little India have imbued migrant workers, both Indian and Bangladeshi, with a sense of belonging. 

From Bangla Square to Mustafa Centre, there are numerous spaces for foreign workers to mingle, enjoy food from their own culture, and buy goods to send back home to their loved ones—in other words, spaces where they can feel connected to their motherland. And foreign workers have rated Singapore as one of the best places to work: an MOM survey found that close to 90% of foreign workers say they are satisfied with working in Singapore. 

But far from being all sunshine and rainbows, issues of cultural enclaves and discrimination still loom large in the alleys behind Desker Road.

The issue of Indian and Bangladesh imigrant workers may not seem particularly important to us—for most of us, the biggest interaction we have with them is making eye contact with those at the construction site on the way to Marymount MRT. Us journalists had not thought much of this issue either; it was a vague, largely intangible idea, something that seemed utterly irrelevant to us. 

That is, until this excursion, when we saw literal signs of discrimination against migrant workers.

“Literal signs?” you might ask. 

In the vicinity of Little India sits an unassuming cluster of HDB flats, and when we paid a visit, we were greeted by the plethora of cautionary signs littered around the district: placards with stern warnings ranging from “Stealing only gets you a criminal record” to “No sale of liquor after 10.30pm” and “Please do not loiter” dotted the area. 

While these signs can certainly be found all over Singapore, they were especially concentrated in this area. Standing in a single spot, we could catch at least three of these signs without even turning around. Notably, these signs, unlike others in Singapore, were in English, Bengali, and Tamil, most likely targeted at the migrant workers around that speak these languages. 

For us, we felt an undercurrent of unease whenever we spotted these signs. The constant surveillance persisted everywhere we went, an almost unnoticeable reminder of Singapore’s perception of migrant workers. The constant reminder to abide by the law and not to commit wrong-doing bore heavy implications—its very existence spoke of a lingering doubt of the migrant workers’ character and morality. But was this surveillance really necessary? 

Not too far away, the pristinely clean bus depot was much more conspicuous, a far cry from what one might find in the rest of Singapore. Ms A. Galvez explained that this was no mere coincidence: Bangladeshi workers had previously enjoyed a freedom of space in the depot, but were now confined to unnervingly orderly queues upon the 2013 Little India Riots. Hailing from a country where strict enforcement of law and order is far from second nature, this queue demarcation was only one of the infrastructural features that could contribute to furthering workers’ feelings of alienation. 

Such infrastructure means more than just a physical separation of migrant workers from Singaporeans; this physical separation, over time, has the potential to mutate into social separation, effectively cutting off interactions and ties between the two groups. Perhaps one could argue that such measures are somewhat discriminatory: while they intend to keep Singapore “safe”, these restrictions work on the assumption that migrant workers are inherently dangerous and are inclined to cause trouble. 

And yet, is that really the case? Maybe, in spite of these structures, the average Singaporean holds fewer biases against migrant workers than it seems.

We do acknowledge that this belief would be mistaken as well: over half of Singaporeans see migrant workers as a “cultural threat”, and 75% think there’s no need for them. However, these workers are the ones who have aided us in literally building up our nation, silently toiling away in order to bring a multiplicity of infrastructural developments—from our HDB flats to our iconic Marina Bay skyline—to life. As such, it would be unfair of us to disallow them from stepping on our very soil and participating in our society.

Some may also believe that the current situation is still fine, seeing no need to integrate migrant workers into our society. Unlike those in Singapore who may have recently immigrated and still have close ties to relatives overseas, few of them will choose to settle and make a home here. These workers have their own motherland outside of Singapore, their own families to provide for a whole life away, their own friends to chat and laugh and share inside jokes with. And as previously elaborated on in Part 1, these workers have their own cultural enclaves where they belong; we have provided them a second home of sorts to return to. 

Maybe we think that’s enough, and that we shouldn’t try to break their enclave open to integrate them with us. However, many races in Singapore have a cultural enclave of their own, so why shouldn’t it be the same for these migrant workers? 

This is because it’s so much harder for these workers to interact with Singaporeans in the first place: even with the existence of Chinatown and Little India, Singaporeans ultimately still make up a “melting pot” of culture, mixing with one another easily. In their case, however, the enclaves and restrictions only serve to advance the idea that discrimination from us is okay. Separation grows into discomfort, which grows into prejudice. 

And what for? In light of their contributions, we should accord them the due respect. This doesn’t mean that we should tear their space apart; it is, after all, still a space that feels like home for them, where they can find comfort in the presence of those who share the same experiences as them. But we should certainly be kinder. From saying hi on the streets to volunteering in organisations, we should find ways to better recognise migrant workers’ contributions to Singapore.

Something else one may not realise is the fact that even what looks like home may not be enough—what many of us may not know about is the discrimination between the workers from different nations that occupy this very same space. 

Weaving through the alleyways of Little India, Ms A. Galvez often paused her explanations midway to bid a shopkeeper good day, or to confirm dinner plans for the coming week. Her close ties with the two groups was not by chance: as part of her undergraduate thesis on migrant worker spaces, she had befriended both Indian and Bangladeshi workers and maintained friendships with them over the years—even after she completed her thesis. 

Laughing, she shared with us the challenges of building trust with both communities at once. During the course of her thesis, tensions rose when the workers found out about her relationship with the other group; each felt that she had betrayed them by befriending the other. While this may seem like a small, almost comical source of strain, it reflects the underlying distrust between the two groups cohabitating this space. 

This distrust, in fact, originated largely from cultural stereotypes and misunderstandings on the part of the employers. Ms A. Galvez shared how employers typically “ranked” foreign workers based on their nationality. Thai workers, most coveted but rapidly dwindling due to their growing local economy, were at the top of this hierarchy owing to their perceived intelligence; next came Chinese workers, thought to be similarly smart but sneakier and more assertive of their rights; and then Indian and Bangladeshi workers followed, with the former perceived to be more highly educated than the latter. According to her, Singaporean contractors are only willing to hire more Bangladeshi workers because these workers, in their eyes, are relatively more affordable than the other three nationalities. This merely goes to show that at the end of the day, Singaporeans are the ones who perpetuate such belittling views of migrant workers and pit them against one another.

There are certainly many NGOs in place to help these workers integrate into Singapore, whether it be Transient Workers Count Too (TWC2) or Migrant Workers’ Centre. But such systemic structures, as well as persistent discriminatory attitudes of many of us, nevertheless continue to perpetuate negative views of these workers, whether unconsciously or not. 

In the end, how migrant workers feel in Singapore largely depends on how we view them. What do we think of their presence? Do we see them as a nuisance to keep off our lawn? Are they merely here to build the skyscrapers and architectural icons that we call our own? 

Whatever it is, Singapore needs to reevaluate its interests in migrant workers. These fathers, brothers, and sons do not exist to merely serve us, and perhaps it’s about time we start recognising their humanity.

By Ng Ziqin (20S03H)

It was the last day of school on campus before HBL measures kicked in, but there would be no spirited outings to J8 or NEX with friends that afternoon to celebrate the survival of yet another school term. 

Instead, students wiped down their desks with disinfectant spray, sat one metre apart on canteen benches crossed out with yellow-and-black tape, and made tearful promises to stay in touch over Zoom and Houseparty over this period of physical separation.

What did the RI campus look like on 7 April?

14 days ago…

Tuesday morning begins with rain. 

All around me, RI students are rushing to avoid being slapped with the label of lateness and a trip to the SAC. They are all headed in different directions. Morning assembly at the parade square hasn’t been a thing for a long time. Instead, we report to our homerooms, just as we have every day for the past three months. 

Popular

The queues and crowds are admittedly more subdued than they were on Monday, but many students are still trying to get final supplies of pen refills, foolscap paper and other stationery before the one-month closure. 

Island-wide, all other non-school Popular outlets have already closed on Monday.

The Printing Shop

The printing shop will be closed for the month, so the aunties are working hard to ensure everyone has what they need. 

“7A 还有东西没collect吗?” (“Is there still anything which 7A hasn’t collected yet?”) I hear a boy ask. At this juncture, it doesn’t matter whether you’re the Chemistry rep or the GP rep; everyone is just taking it in turns to go down to the printing shop and check whether there are any class notes available for collection.

The Wishing Well

Nicole Lim (20S03I) and Sia Xinyu (20A13A) are studying together at one of the booths.

“I think it’s necessary but I’m also worried about my A Levels,” says Nicole about the circuit breaker measures. “I just hope I have enough discipline to actually keep up with my work. I’m going to miss my friends.”

“I think it’ll be weird to have lessons at home with all my family members watching!” says Xinyu with a laugh. She says that she and Nicole will be keeping in touch over the break by sending each other (physical) letters.

Professor Brawn

The tables are gone, and the seats have been taped over with ominous-looking yellow and black tape. One of the staff tells me that Professor Brawn will be closed for the month.

The Canteen

I manage to interview Uncle Lee, one of the uncles who runs Tan’s Chinese Cooked Food, as he closes up.

“My heart feels heavy and I don’t know what to do,” he tells me in Mandarin. “I’m worried. We don’t know how long the [Covid-19] situation will continue for.” Thankfully, though, he has managed to sell all the food he prepared today. “I didn’t dare to cook too much.”

The Lockers

Have they always looked this abandoned? Doors have been flung open to reveal empty nooks, perhaps in the aftermath of some much-needed spring cleaning, as students take home their stuff for home-based learning.

The SAC

Even the SAC will be closed until 4 May; the staff will be working from home. 

“I would advise you to check with your civics tutors, because all this is beyond our control,” one of the staff informs me apologetically, when I ask him what arrangements have been made for students whose parents are working in essential industries.

The Biodiversity Pond

Amid the flurry of activity on the last day before HBL, life still goes on as usual for Mr Lim, the biodiversity pond’s caretaker, who feeds the fish in the afternoon.

By Huang Beihua (20A03A) and Mah Xiao Yu (20A01B)

A piece of toast held between two chopsticks. It is perhaps an awkward image, but certainly an appropriate cover for The Heartsick Diaspora: this is a book with an appreciation for subtle humour—and certainly much involvement of food. More significantly, however, is the cover’s underlining of the friction, and loneliness, at the core of the book, both of people struggling to come to terms with cultures so foreign to them, yet ones they are bound to pick up.

The collection—the first by Singaporean writer Elaine Chiew—unites 14 short stories across time and space, from World War II Singapore to a high French restaurant in New York City. For all their diverse settings, each one—in its unique way—captures the trials and tribulations of the Malaysian-Singaporean diaspora, caught in the eddies as they navigate the confluence of distinct identities towards love, family, and ambition.

For a piece of diasporic literature, we can often expect some touch of regret in the face of diminishing identities, of cultural roots diluted by the unfamiliar place in which the characters find themselves. The Heartsick Diaspora focuses on a particular subset of this concept, one of children moving far overseas and settling in while their ageing parents remain home. It is, then, an especially potent documentation of cultural rifts, manifested tangibly and vividly in the breaking apart of familial love. Tensions soar to heights heart-wrenching and dramatic on equal proportions as the elderly mother of Run of the Molars finds her trip to London embroiled in one quarrel after another, clinging onto a culture her expatriate daughters no longer understand. The longing of a Malaysian grandma in Face for her home away from an England of prejudice, of isolation, and, above all, where she feels out of place evokes pathos all too palpable—and only compounded by a confused son who cannot grasp her desire for home. Chiew never veers into explicit commentary, yet crafts her narration to thrust the reader into the scene itself and all the emotions that come with it. As the daughters in Run of the Molars struggle to explain the London Eye to their mother:

[T]he language they shared in common from birth had failed them. Neither of them knew the Hokkien words for backstay cables, and neither did their mother. She didn’t look like she ever envisioned she’d need a language to transcribe all that she was seeing for the first time.

Language is a foundation of identity, giving form to thought in unique, different ways that mark one culture from another. That a shared native language should both be too unfamiliar and wholly inadequate to describe what they are seeing is, then, a reflection of how fundamentally estranged their Hokkien identity (or parts of their identities) is in the face of a foreign reality. It is a sombre idea, and it is one Chiew weaves into much of the collection as the rawest experience of cultural loss, rightfully and masterfully. The visual impact is direct and jarring, for example, when she faithfully preserves terms specific to the Chinese dialects used in a sea of English words. In the case of Chinese Almanac—a coming-out story of a gay man to his father while struggling to stay true to Confucian ideals—the father’s speech is rendered often in Mandarin characters and phrases, only occasionally explained by bracketed English. This is not so much a lapse in consistency as much as it is a blunt parallel to the relationship between the generations, where both grasp to understand the increasing alienness of the other bound by blood only to intermittent success. The difficulty in communication means secrets hidden from each other, and over time, their mutual failure to understand evolves from semantic technicalities onto a more fundamental, personal level.

“I want to talk to him in our cross-intentioned languages, but I don’t know how. How do I say, ‘It’s time for you go home’ in Chinese without sounding like I’m throwing my old dad out of my apartment, like I’m that second run on the hierarchy of sin, right beneath being traitorous to one’s country—unfilial?”

The son of the Chinese Almanac

Elsewhere and just as much, food can feature as a symbol of identity. That eating is essential for the definition of a culture in the context of another is not an unfamiliar notion, yet here it is refreshing and pleasant to see the subtlety and nuance with which Chiew instrumentalises food to convey characters’ differing attitudes towards their ethnic culture. In Face, the traditional Chinese dining table being a boisterous, communal affair (where family members look out for and help one another pick up dishes others cannot reach) binds to an overarching, intense longing for the sense of community the grandmother so sorely lacks in London. The Run of the Molars mother’s indignation at a steamboat soup missing key ingredients like goji berries, jujubes, and liquorice root—she would rather chew on two slices of white bread—is best understood as a gallant, perhaps, refusal to compromise on her own culture when the practices around her are decidedly western and therefore hopelessly alien, to the point where even a family dinner intended to please her could involve such unacceptable faux pas. “You have?” She asks for the bread in defeat, no longer trying to voice her anger. 

Yet, these stories are ultimately hopeful as love proves to transcend barriers erected by language and custom. In Chinese Almanac, after a week of eating Chinese food with his father every night and trying to understand not only his father’s Chinese but also the sudden changes in family dynamics, a son finally comes out to his father. In doing so, the son uses Mandarin characters and references to Chinese lore which remain unexplained, symbolising the first time the son and father have a true mutual understanding of each other—the father now understands a crucial part of his son’s identity and the son now recognises the ways his father loves him, “without ever using the words”. Similarly, the confession of a long-held secret in Run of the Molars finally reveals to a daughter the burdens her mother has carried almost her entire life and gives her a glimpse of her mother’s true feelings, concealed under criticisms and what seemed like unreasonable demands. It is reassuring, certainly, to see love hold up against the seismic forces of cultural rifts: a comforting testament to the endurance of love in situations that can, perhaps, hit very much close to home between us and the elderly generations.

The diasporic experience is far more than just strained familial ties, however, and The Heartsick Diaspora rightfully presents far more aspects of it than just complicated families. Using food once again as a central theme, Chronicles of a Culinary Poseur details the ambitions of a Singaporean chef in the world of high French cuisine, yet discovers food critics are only impressed when they are convinced a white male is behind the stoves. It is delicious, certainly, as we follow Chef Kara’s quest to create the perfect tasting menu, peppered with descriptions that reflect animatedly and convincingly the passion one would expect in a chef (that Chiew spent weeks in a kitchen to research). In between dishes she offers recollections of her determination to succeed—blend in, perhaps—in the cooking world dominated by white men, yet it is one ultimately made more complex by her attachment to her own ethnicity. She faces the glass ceiling of a minority female chef and, when difficulties arise, chooses above all a loan from “The Woon Leong Benevolent Chinese Association (benevolent, my ass)” to finance her restaurant.

“Ever since then, loose-limbed, scary-looking thugs came by once every week to eat and ‘keep an eye on things’. What did Bernard know about any of it, but the gossip-monger he no doubt was, he’d probably heard that Kara couldn’t pay her seafood supplier this week and had to resort to Chinatown garoupa.”

Kara, Chronicles of a Culinary Poseur

Such richness of meaning from such animated language peppered with fun makes for a tantalizing read in any case; to see it sandwiched between other stories equally as strong and wielding a more solemn disposition testifies only to the versatility and skill of its author. In Rap of the Tiger Mother, Chiew weaves together prose and verse through the point of view of a single Chinese mother, who struggles with not only raising her four-year-old son but also the strong sense of inadequacy born from being surrounded by “tiger mothers”. While the vernacular used in her bars already presents the narrator as an atypical Asian woman, the story can be seen as almost anti-tiger mother, flipping over the stereotypes that tiger mothers are exclusive to only Asian cultures and that Asian mothers all want to be tiger mothers.

For all its potency documenting characters’ relationships to their cultures, The Heartsick Diaspora fumbles somewhat over the very culture it references. The Malaysian- and Singaporean-Chinese culture it depicts seems, at times, no different from a generic picture of a traditional Chinese one. Indeed, apart from references to Singaporean places or cuisine, characters’ concerns and values are often applicable to the Chinese community worldwide, with little specificity to the group on whom Chiew elects to focus. Certainly, nothing inherently wrong is with this portrayal—it is neither inaccurate nor inauthentic—but one could not help but regret at the missed opportunity to explore the unique flavours of a Singaporean/Malaysian Chinese story happening in the United Kingdom. A diaspora within a diaspora, if you will.

In comparison, stories that took place in Singapore, such as The Coffin Maker, A Thoroughly Modern Ghost of Other Origin and Mapping Three Lives through a Red Rooster Chamber Pot, managed to highlight the unique Singaporean experience and culture much better. For instance, A Thoroughly Modern Ghost of Other Origin references not only Chinese ghosts and the tradition of burning joss paper for the dead, but also Malay and Indian ghosts (“I ask, What were you before you died, C, M, I, O—Chinese, Malay, Indian, or Other?”) as well as other typically Singaporean sights: old men doing tai chi in the void deck, HDB eateries and chilli crab, and 7-Elevens and slushies.

“It gives me the creeps, looking at all these things for the dead, but I guess the Chinese dead are also particularly enamoured of progress, because there’s an iPad, the latest iPhone and Samsung Galaxy, even a Google Glass. Not to mention a red Ducati, and, [redacted] me, a Joe Rocket leather motorcycle jacket to go with.”

The Narrator, A Thoroughly Modern Ghost of Other Origin

Overall, then, The Heartsick Diaspora is an emotional—even intimate and relatable—account of the complicated realities behind living across cultures, in a setting familiar to many of us. It could, of course, be made satisfying in ways, but that does not make it any less fascinating than it is. So, if you ever see the distinctive cover on the shelves, it is certainly worthwhile to pick up the chopsticks and savor the stories.

By Jermaine Wong (20S03R) and Ruchira Ramaswamy (20S03A)

Synopsis: Everyone has their own secrets, things they’d rather not share, even with the closest of friends. For Simone Garcia-Hampton, the last thing she wants her peers to find out about her is that she is HIV-positive. 

Rating:

Plot: 4/5

At first glance, this is your typical Young Adult novel, complete with high school drama and an actual drama club, of which Simone is the director. Classically, it goes like this: girl meets a cute boy (not just any cute boy, but one with an obsession for licking ice cream in a titillating manner), they fall for each other, but it never is that smooth sailing. Enter a jealous blackmailer, who threatens to expose Simone’s deepest, darkest secret and sabotage her relationship with Miles (the cute boy). 

But of course, this book is more complicated than that. Simone’s secret that she is HIV-positive is not a small one, and the saboteur’s attempt to out her status to the school is cruel, devious and terrifying. Sadly, it is only reflective of the sometimes harsh and unforgiving world we live in. Many people from the LGBTQ+ community, or those battling STDs, live in constant shame and fear that revealing their truths to their loved ones or the community beyond will leave them shunned and ostracised. Worse still is the anxiety that someone will get there before them, and they will not have a chance to tell their story with their own voice. 

It isn’t fair that some have to live with such massive burdens weighing them down. The weight of this responsibility comes crashing down on Simone midway through the book, when she is faced with the dilemma of telling Miles about her status before their relationship goes further. In the state of California, where she lives, (and 33 other states in the USA) it is illegal for an HIV-positive individual to engage in sexual activities without disclosing their status to their partner(s). Legal ramifications aside, a meaningful relationship does call for honesty and trust. On the other hand, how just is it to expect someone to reveal deeply personal information in the early stages of a budding relationship, when emotions are still raw and fresh, and their trust in one another is still developing? 

The plot is skilfully crafted to arrange a string of events that make for moments of deep contemplation. In doing so, it highlights hardships that are seldom brought to light, but are experienced by some people, even at the tender age of 17.

However, the only aspect that we find slightly illogical is how quickly Simone jumps to conclusions about the possible identity of her blackmailer without any concrete evidence. First, she suspects that some of the Drama Club members who dislike her are behind it, simply because they are rude to her at rehearsals. Just as quickly, Simone goes on to suspect the culprits to be her best friends, Lydia and Claudia, only because they haven’t been too happy with her for neglecting their friendship to spend time with Miles all the time.

Character Relationships: 3/5

One of our favourite aspects of the book is the development of Simone’s interactions and relationships with the other members of her HIV support group, namely, Jack, Brie, and Ralph. When we are first introduced to “Group”, Simone makes it very clear that she isn’t friends with any of the other teenagers who are “probably being forced to come every week”, and even detests some of them. However, as the story progresses, Simone decides to open up more to her peers at Group and seek their advice about problems that she feels that only they would understand, being HIV-positive themselves. Hence, we feel that it was a shame that more time wasn’t devoted to developing Simone’s friendships with Jack, Brie, and Ralph. There are only three short Group sessions interspersed throughout the novel, which make their actions towards the end of the book feel somewhat contrived. 

Personally, another plus-point is how Simone’s best friends, Claudia and Lydia, and her love interest, Miles, react to the news that she is HIV-positive. Both the build-up to Simone’s decisions to disclose her status and her friends’ reactions feel very real. Garrett truly allows the reader a glimpse into the trepidation that a HIV-positive individual feels when he or she decides to break the news to his or her loved ones, and shows how their acceptance and support matters so greatly.

That being said, we do have a bone to pick with how Simone’s relationship with Miles was handled. We don’t see them establish any kind of emotional connection or friendship before they suddenly declare their undying love for each other and start feeling each other up in the school corridors. Simone goes from saying that “there’s no reason for Miles to say more than a few words to [her]” in Chapter 2, to asking him out in Chapter 3, and locking lips with him in Chapter 4. Their romance plays out more like a clichéd insta-love story, rather than a gradual build-up from platonic to romantic interest. Because of the significance of their relationship in discussing the dilemmas a HIV-positive person could face––such as when to disclose their status to their romantic partner––their whirlwind romance makes some of the later key plot points that center around it feel significantly less believable. Still, as we mentioned, the characters get plus points for handling news of Simone’s status in the most graceful way possible. There was always an initial apprehension and worry, not due to prejudice, but due to a considerable lack of knowledge surrounding the subject. It was comforting to see this being followed up with an outpouring of love, support, and most importantly: respect that Simone was also a human being, an equal.  

Over and above this, Garrett has created characters you would want to root for despite their flaws, which is no easy task.

Writing Style: 4/5 

Garrett’s writing style is fluid and lucid, making for a really smooth read. You’ll feel butterflies as you see Simone and Miles’ relationship deepen, loving exasperation at Pop’s banter with Simone, burgeoning sadness as Simone realises she’s been unwillingly outed as positive, and quiet pride as she steps into the spotlight claims her own identity towards the end of the story.

To put it shortly, the writing complements the plot and characters well, giving Simone a unique voice and bringing out the different emotions and the right junctures. The real standout point of this book was its diverse characters and the values of acceptance and positivity that it championed. 

Overall Message/Standout Features: 5/5 

This is author Camryn Garrett’s debut novel—which she reportedly penned when she was 17—and her effort to make the story as sex-positive and ethnically-inclusive as possible is noble, and incredibly admirable. The amount of heart, soul and honesty this book holds is exactly what sets it apart from other novels. Not only is its protagonist a HIV-positive adoptive daughter to two dads, her closest friends are also on the LGBTQ+ spectrum. Not only does Simone embrace her curiosity about sex and pleasure, so do her parents, best friends and doctors. Not only does she have an unwavering support system at home, she has a band of friends and teachers in school who accept her. It is extremely heartwarming to see this fictional universe chock-full of love and optimism.

All of this makes Full Disclosure an ambitious, groundbreaking YA novel: it’s one of the first of its kind that depicts the everyday joys and struggles of life as an HIV-positive teenager (who also happens to be African-American and bisexual) in modern society. The educational message woven into the story helps to raise awareness about this STD and its related condition, AIDS. It plays a pivotal role in paving the way for an era of greater understanding and acceptance, starting in the literary world. More importantly, it could erode some of the stigma that continues to surround this “taboo” subject.

Would we call it overly utopian or over-zealous in its enthusiasm to tackle so many topics like stigma, sex, love, racial discrimination and bullying all in the confines of 290 pages? No. We’d like to think of it as an alluring landscape that Camryn Garret has painted, inked with her hopes and dreams. It’s an illustration of a world that should be, and just perhaps could be.

By Tay Jing Xuan (20S03C)
Photos courtesy of Ms Chua Kah Hwee (counsellor at RGC) and Raffles Photographic Society

When you step into the school compound, you might find that thoughts about grades, competitions and relationships start to plague you.

Let’s take it a step further. Do they already race through your mind at home, in the middle of lunch, or even out with friends? For some, the answer is most likely a yes. School brings with it tremendous amounts of stress to perform well in all aspects of our lives. Who wants to have a ‘U’ blemish their results slips, or to have a record they held broken by someone else? There is no respite from the multitude of stressors hounding us day by day, and some might find it hard to cope.

However, for some, this becomes more sinister. What seems to be a perfectly normal fear grows uncontrollable—insomnia hits out of nowhere when you were sleeping just fine the night before, or a small cry suddenly turns into a breathless, crushing panic. There can be no trigger because this fear has taken root so deeply that it is ever-present, even without you knowing.

As these worries turn into something more sinister, they change one’s behaviour along the way. Soon, the way one treats the stressors in their lives transforms into something else.

But what is this “something else”?

How does anxiety change a person’s coping mechanisms and behaviour in the face of problems?

You may not notice it, but a person with an anxiety disorder faces problems in a completely different way from a healthy person. Short-term anxiety steers a person away from a harmful situation, but long-term anxiety applies this to every event.

People with anxiety have difficulty discerning truly worrisome situations from mild annoyances, like between a bad grade in a class quiz and a bad grade in the end-of-year results slip. The short-term anxiety will help push them to work harder, but even after the good grade has been obtained in a future quiz, the anxiety sticks. Now everything, including the occasional do-it-yourself question after a lecture, becomes a threat. Even the smallest problem requires an overly-elaborate plan, and if things don’t work out according to the blueprint, everything goes downhill from there.

Anxious behaviour also involves avoidance or overthinking. While most healthy people may tackle problems in a more straightforward manner, people with anxiety tend to avoid and predict worst-case scenarios. Anxious minds look at a friend’s bad day and think, “Is it me? What did I do wrong?” Or if their friend does have a problem, they’ll start predicting: “If I just say I’m sorry, will they think I’m insincere? They’ll continue to think I’m annoying. They’ll start distancing themselves from me.” Because these possible scenarios that accompany the problem seem insurmountable to them, anxious people will then tend to avoid the problem completely.

When everything becomes a threat, life gets so much worse for people with an anxiety disorder. Adrenaline surges and panic are the only responses to even the slightest conveniences. Every day is a dreaded moment, and life can no longer be worth living for some. 

The worst thing is that it has become so prevalent among students that it often goes unnoticed.

There is an alarmingly increasing number of students seeking help for school-related stress—about 2400 new cases every year. Students in Singapore are also much more anxious than in other countries, with 86% of us feeling anxious over doing well compared to 66% in other countries. But how is it that the numbers aren’t going down, even after mental health has become a more popular topic for discussion over the years?

Perhaps a voiced-out worry receives hums of “same” and is quickly forgotten, leaving the poor student to turn that worry over and over in their head by themselves. It is especially evident in RI, where there is unyielding pressure to do especially well. Because of this, when students with an anxiety disorder speak up, they are more likely to be dismissed as being under temporary stress—who else isn’t scared of failing?

Unfortunately, an anxiety disorder isn’t fleeting.

What we can do to cope with anxiety or worrying thoughts?

It appears then that if we are truly suffering from an anxiety disorder, we have to start by finding help for it. 

For those who require help for their anxiety, the Raffles Guidance Centre (RGC) is open to all. Counsellors there are well-trained to understand your struggles and will do their best to help you according to your needs. You can make an appointment by reaching the team at 6354 9105, or emailing them at rgc@ri.edu.sg. If you would like to drop by for a chat without prior appointment instead, walk-ins are welcome (or leave a note at the mailbox outside and the counsellors will get back to you as soon as possible).

A look at the RGC. Photos: Ms Chua Kah Hwee, counsellor at RGC.)

Due to the current COVID-19 situation, counselling services are suspended for now, but there are other things you can do to cope with anxiety in the meantime:

• To cope with the physical symptoms of anxiety, try the 4-7-8 breathing exercise, take a time-out and drop the work for now, or change your focus to something that makes you happy. Listening to music or doing things that you associate with happier times can relieve symptoms too.
• To ground yourself, you can use your five senses to focus on things around you. Find and acknowledge 5 things you see, 4 things you can touch, 3 things you can hear, 2 things you can smell and 1 thing you can taste around you.
• Journalling and pouring your feelings out to someone can help you identify the source of your anxiety and take steps to address it. There is no need to follow a structure or format—just writing down or talking about your feelings can relieve some of the anxiety you’re experiencing. For optimum results, try doing it regularly for a few minutes each day.
• For those feeling helpless: Accept that the anxiety is happening, and take action to make yourself feel a bit better, like playing a soothing game or talking to someone about it. Sometimes, regaining a bit of control in the situation may help with handling your feelings.

What if you don’t have an anxiety disorder, but still wish to handle your stress and occasional worries a bit better? There are some things anyone can try out to tackle fears and worries, such as fear-setting and cognitive behavioural therapy (CBT).

Fear-setting involves listing out all your fears and worst-case scenarios on paper or on a note on your device, then looking at the ways you can avoid or solve these problems should they really happen. It allows you to gain control of the situation, because most of the time, we get anxious and worried because we are uncertain about the future. Knowing that there are concrete steps we can take to solve future problems can relieve most, if not all of the worry we are feeling at the moment.

Cognitive behavioural therapy is less intimidating than it sounds. It is appropriate for people of all ages, and can be done without a therapist; there are many worksheets and resources available online for you to try. CBT is mainly about the interconnectedness of thought, emotion and behaviour, and teaches you to change your perspective and balance your thoughts.

For example, if you got a bad grade, a possible thought would be: “I’m stupid and will never improve.” However, reframing the thought by questioning its rationality would bring you to: “I didn’t study enough, or I had misconceptions I didn’t know were there at first, or I needed more practice.” Changing how you respond to your emotions and thoughts helps you to ground yourself and be better equipped to tackle the root of the problem.

How do we help those who have an anxiety disorder?

It may be difficult to dispel the worries of those with an anxiety disorder, but being a supportive friend is more than enough for them. Don’t dismiss their worries; understand that the worries they are having are very real to them, and offer them a listening ear when they turn to you for help. Even if we do not have the advice they require, being there for them and understanding their concerns can make a world of difference. If you can, direct them to a trusted adult to help them work through their anxiety.

Another thing you can do is to be understanding when they need to take a rain check because they’re prioritising their mental health. Some days can get particularly bad, and it would mean a great deal to them that you are willing to move dates around, too.

Ultimately, normalising speaking up about worries and building strong support systems can go a long way in coping with stress and anxiety. For those struggling with an anxiety disorder, understand that you are not alone in this, no matter how small you may feel in such a big pond, and that every problem has a solution.

By Thet Hninn Zin (21A13A)

“Time is moving too fast.” 
“I don’t want to go back to school on Monday.”

It feels like all our calls have been answered—a seemingly unlimited expanse of time during these weeks of circuit breaker and the May holidays. Yet, you now see people posting on their Instagram stories with captions such as “I’m so bored” and “I don’t have anything to do at home”, itching for something new to do after far too long in the confinements of their own home. In such times of dire crises, we often overlook the best thing to do when we have an excess of free, unmoderated time: sleep.

Though seemingly simple, it is a multifaceted issue. The types of naps we can pursue exist on a spectrum, each varying in level of satisfaction, amount of post-sleep productivity, and healthiness (its impact or contribution to your sleep cycle and physical health).

First, we have the 15-minute power nap. This option is presumably a popular one, be it between HBL tutorials or lectures, or after revision when you require a much-needed break from all the screen time. In terms of satisfaction, it is sub-par to your typical one-hour naps as it jolts you awake before you can truly fall asleep. Nevertheless, it is still reliable if you need a short burst of energy to get you through another task you have planned for the day. Lastly, it does not have much impact on your existing physical health as it takes up a significantly short period of your time. Overall, it is a pretty solid option! However, do practise due discretion when pursuing these 15-minute naps, as you run the risk of oversleeping and waking up three hours past your alarm.

Snooze-o-meter: 
Level of satisfaction: 2/5
Post-sleep motivation: 4/5
Healthiness: 5/5 

This brings me to my next topic of review: the three-hour afternoon nap. The three-hour afternoon nap is the ultimate guilty pleasure. You sleep without the intention of waking up at a stipulated time, and end up waking three hours later feeling indulgent and sinful. There are two outcomes to this option: either you wake up feeling rejuvenated and ready to seize whatever is left of the day, or you wake up feeling groggy and grumpy. The amount of satisfaction is relative to how much you have left to do for the day, and whether or not your three-hour nap was an intentional one. (It also may or may not be affected by the looks of disappointment from your parents when they chide you for having slept like a pig the entire day.) Undoubtedly, it is sure to give you the greatest amount of satisfaction among the ps reviewed here. Nonetheless, the post-sleep experience normally varies between panic upon realising you have overslept (which acts as an impetus for you to plow through the rest of your work), or a sigh of resignation (as you give up and go back to sleep) when you realise you have slept away all the time you planned to be productive in. Lastly, long naps exceeding periods of an hour could negatively affect your circadian rhythm when you wake up in deeper stages of sleep. Overall, this is an indulgent option that we would not advise practising very often (unless you are extremely sleep-deprived)! 

Snooze-o-meter: 
Level of satisfaction: 5/5
Post-sleep motivation: 2/5
Healthiness: 1/5 

Last but definitely not least, we have the one hour nap. Research has shown that a nap—defined as daytime sleeping that lasts between 15 and 90 minutes—can improve brain functions ranging from memory to focus and creativity. More specifically, a one-hour nap has been shown to improve memory retention compared to a 90-minute nap which has shown to improve creativity and emotional memory. As the option most revered by scientists in improving memory retention, the one-hour nap is verifiably the right balance between both of the aforementioned options, particularly for us students. It may not achieve as much satisfaction as the three-hour nap or as much alertness during post-sleep productivity as the 15-minute one, but it is an all-rounded option that would be the safest out of the three if you are intent on finishing your work or having a satisfying snooze to get you through the rest of the day. Overall, it is a trusty option that you can always count on!

Snooze-o-meter: 
Level of satisfaction: 4/5
Post-sleep motivation: 3/5
Healthiness: 5/5 

Happy napping, everyone! Remember to stay safe and stay home.

By Ng Jing Ting (20A13A), Sarah Lok (20A03A), Sophia He (20S03H), and Valerie Tan (20A01E)

In this era where the pursuit of productivity has permeated near all aspects of the increasingly mundane lives of the soon-to-be national exam takers, there are few things better than a state-mandated sedentary lifestyle.

No longer can your sloth-like and sinful tendencies be shamed; these attributes are now held up as those of a conscientious and socially-responsible citizen, intent on doing their part as One People, One Nation, One Singapore. Oh, how the tables have turned!

And yet. Some people are doing Things. With a capital T. 

In this article, we explore the multifarious ways in which members of our community have put their newfound time to use. As productivity takes a backseat in these uncertain times, this leaves space for our lesser-explored talents to take the spotlight, along with some clever adaptations to keep plans workable in the new circuit breaker paradigm.

From birthday bashes to awe-inspiring workouts, we have compiled here just some of the many activities undertaken by the quaranteens among us.

The Musicians 

“Oh man.”

So went Daryl Keith Teoh’s (20A13A) dismal response to a question on how the circuit breaker has affected his musical endeavours. The singer-songwriter known for his previous work ‘In Every Way’ recalls avidly how, before the circuit breaker measures were implemented, he had used to head over with a group of musician friends to the makeshift home music studio at one of their homes to make music. Now left stranded in his house, Daryl was left to do some soul-searching as the days ticked down to his latest single release, ‘Life Sucks Balls’.

Daryl took the rest of the day off after his Home-Based Learning (HBL) lessons in order to remaster the song, marking the first time he ever produced a track (he’d previously only written them). “Honestly, being away from classroom stress gave me a lot of room to craft wacky ideas,” he revealed over Whatsapp, noting also that his creative ideas tend to come to him more often in the comforts of his own room.

“Prior to the circuit breaker, I was honestly way too occupied with work to even think about music.” —Daryl Keith Teoh (20A13A) 

When it comes to his promotional plans, Daryl reveals all through social media, where he has garnered more than 2000 followers on Instagram.

“I would definitely have loved to perform my new song before a live audience,” he said. “In fact, I had been called in for a school performance during Spirit Week, which was unfortunately cancelled due to the rising number of Covid-19 cases.” 

Yet the less-than-pleasant circumstances under which his new single was released did not deter the outpouring of love from supporters, as ‘Life Sucks Balls’ racked up more than 5000 streams on Spotify within the first two days of its release. “I go bazonkers knowing that people actually do enjoy my music,” he said. “I’m thankful for all the support I’ve received, and I hope everyone stays safe during this uncertain period!” 

(And if you ask us how we like ‘Life Sucks Balls’? In every way.)

While Daryl’s single was inspired by the mundanity of the circuit breaker period, others took advantage of the very mundanity that others were experiencing to release original music. After all, with everyone at home and free to use their devices whenever, any budding artist would most certainly attain a greater reach through social media. 

Upon noticing that most singer-songwriters in RI were doing acoustic covers, Brian Choon (20S06D) decided to “add some vibrancy to our music scene” with his tropical house single entitled ‘Be There For You’, inspired by Jonas Blue. 

Brian, who lacks any prior musical knowledge, used the extra time to “read up a lot on music theory” and “learn some guitar” to ease his track design process. He even took the entire sound engineering process on himself; late nights were spent simply experimenting until [the song] sounded good. 

“I had to create everything from scratch, so that was definitely an eye-opener. Most of us might think that the process of sound engineering is easy, but the creation of original sounds actually requires a lot of effort and fine-tuning,” says Brian. 

Even without much experience, Brian managed to create the main instrumental melody from the vocalist’s voice, which thoroughly impressed one of the writers during our interview over Whatsapp. (A true natural, if we do say so ourselves.) 

With 25,000 streams and counting as of the publishing of this article, this upbeat track will certainly be there for you while the nation continues to break the circuit. 

Likewise, Syu Rui Ying (20S06M) also got in touch with her musical side during her long hours spent at home. The bedroom producer comments that the circuit breaker measures have not impacted her music-making activities greatly, since most of her tracks are uploaded on music-sharing platform Soundcloud and receive streams from an online audience. 

“Most of my friends are bedroom producers as well so they haven’t been greatly affected either,” she said. “It’s pretty much status quo for now.” 

Being stuck at home also saw Rui Ying spend longer periods sitting in front of her laptop, listening to music and getting inspired: “I’m listening to albums I’ve never listened to before.” Rui Ying also states her hopes for exploring new types of music moving forward, breaking away from her usual ‘indie, lo-fi’ beats. 

“And now that everyone’s at home all the time, it’s easier to make plans with people to make music together,” she said, hinting at her desire for a collaboration in the near future. 

(May we suggest the above two gentlemen?) 

The Bakers and Chefs

For Joshua Neoh (20A01E), HBL didn’t seem to drastically change his cooking habits. He’d been cooking since young, preparing his first proper dish at about 10 years old, and even started an Instagram account for his dishes before the circuit breaker kicked in. “I started it as a private platform where I can keep memories of my cooking, but also to share with others about how cooking is a beautiful thing which is relatively easy,” he commented. “It’s also to share good recipes and good local delights for anyone interested!”

Yet, even for someone already so familiar with cooking, HBL was more than just a time to “study and exercise and play Mobile Legends”—it helped to widen his range of skills, giving him the opportunity to experiment with baking more, and make Chinese dimsum like dumplings and pao. Recently, he’s also enjoyed making his very own pasta sauces, including the likes of béchamel sauce and Alfredo sauce.

The kitchen, of course, is not merely a place for cooking. If you’re a follower of Marie Goh (20S06R)’s Instagram and watch her stories regularly enough, you’ve probably seen at least one shot of her puffs and pastries straight out of the oven.

(And then wanted to eat them.) 

While Marie started baking as a kid, she only started investing more time into it a few years ago. “I started baking when I was really young, and my mum would bake chocolate chip cookies with my brother and me. But I only became a really avid baker shortly after O Levels when I had a lot of spare time and no studying to do,” she explained.

With HBL, that amount of spare time has skyrocketed again. Even with the (oddly) increasing amount of work to do, Marie manages to make time for baking—something that helps her relieve stress. “I turn to baking to relax and do stuff I love,” she commented, “And I think HBL hasn’t changed that much.”

Without the rigid structures of school, she can experiment with different recipes and try new things—a challenge that she greatly enjoys. The only problem is that she can’t bake as often as she would like: “I can’t go out to share the food I bake, so only my family can be my guinea pigs—and I have limited fridge space!”

For those who want to start filling up their fridges with their own home-baked goodies, Marie recommends bread. “BREAD. Bread is great. And it’s actually quite simple to make.”

“It’s kind of like raising a little creature when working with yeast.” —Marie Goh (20S06R)

Besides Joshua and Marie, there’s someone who knows how to enjoy the best of both worlds. Valerie Tan (20S03R) knows her way round a kitchen from the oven to the stove.

This isn’t some brand new epiphany, no: similar to Marie, her history with it dates back to baking in kindergarten with her mum. It’s only recently, however, that she’s started venturing back into the kitchen to bake; the natural busyness of life had unceremoniously gotten in the way, leaving her to realise she’s “actually quite decent at it!” only in the last few years.

Thankfully, HBL seems to be making up for that lost time: “During the normal school term, I could only bake on weekends, but now I can bake even on weekends and at random timings, so I’m quite happy about that!” she shared. “I think it’s less stressful as well because I don’t have to rush or think about school the next day.”

She’s even found a new hobby too: besides baking, Valerie started cooking more and more, realising its similarities with baking, and developed an interest in it as well.

“Partly because I don’t want to keep having to order delivery or get takeaway, too,” she quipped.

When asked for her favourite recipes, Valerie recommends chewy chocolate chip cookies, as well as shrimp and spinach pasta—either with linguine or tagliatelle. “For the cookies, I actually just use the recipe from Tasty with less sugar, and it works really well. You can make a lot of the dough and then freeze it for even a month, and any time you crave cookies, just pop it into the oven.” On the other end of the spectrum, she has a much more straightforward reason for her favourite thing to cook: “I love pasta! And it’s very easy to make in one pot.”

The Fitspos

If fitness really isn’t your thing, then you must have questioned why it seems like those around you are training for some unknown sports event, guided by the likes of Chloe Ting, Pamela Reif, Emi Wong, and Nike Training Club. (One of the writers even cluelessly asked if Chloe Ting was a schoolmate.)

Skype workouts and jaunty workout app screenshots have replaced the typical gym mirror boomerang. As we herald in this new age of virtual companionship on our fitness journeys, not many things have to change. Leah Ang (20S06L), for one, has been taking pains (and oh, does 30 minutes of cardio and 30 minutes of workout a day sound painful) to keep her physical condition in pre-circuit breaker state.

“I have nothing else to do,” she said. “Plus, I’m eating more so I want to work the extra food off.” This is surely a relatable sentiment to most; the swift passageway of food into one’s mouth exhibits a level of efficiency that is quite unparalleled. While some may have given up reversing the effects of feasting, Leah has a plan. “I started off following videos, but I’ve compiled my favourite exercises into a personalised routine.”

While CCA sessions may be indefinitely suspended for most, it’s mostly business as usual for weightlifter Sarah Ang (20S06C). For her, the circuit breaker hasn’t been much of a hindrance to her training since she was able to bring equipment home to train; however, as she can’t “go heavy” on her weights, her coach has instead increased her training volume. 

Yet even a national team athlete has her down days. “It’s tough—especially on the days where I don’t feel like doing anything,” Sarah laughs. 

Perhaps the circuit breaker period will serve to be beneficial for Sarah: she now focuses a lot more on strengthening smaller muscle groups, which she admits that she used to neglect. She even works out with fellow bufflords over Skype, stating that “it’s a lot easier to train when you know that there is someone else training… [it] just becomes a little less sad”. 

Nutrition-wise, Circuit Breaker has given Sarah more flexibility to prepare food and to eat properly. “My main goal each day is to hit my protein count,” Sarah says, “so I don’t lose muscle.” However, Sarah sheepishly admits that being at home more often also means she snacks more regularly—something we’re all guilty of.

The Birthday Bashers 

April showers sure bring May flowers. 

For Kirsten Negapatan (20S06A), seventeen going on eighteen, this birthday would have been a very special one. “In the Filipino community, eighteen is the age when a girl debuts into adulthood,” she explained. 

Kirsten launches into an enthusiastic description of a traditional debut celebration as one of choreographed dances, performances, and buffet lines, marked by a gregarious (but most affectionate) group of family members and friends. The importance of the event was further consecrated by the grandness of the venue—Kirsten’s parents had arranged to hold their daughter’s birthday in a ballroom in Orchard Country Club.

Unfortunately, the abrupt closure of non-essential stores following the circuit breaker announcement meant the celebration had to be held without its usual pomp and circumstance. Finding themselves without a venue, decorations, and guests, Kirsten and her family were nonetheless singular in their conviction: the show must go on.

And with the help of an ingenious mother and other highly amenable family members, go on it did—though within the four walls of her own home.

First, there was a problem with decorations—but that was soon quickly resolved. “My parents had gone out to party shops before circuit breaker to get them,” said Kirsten, “And my mum even borrowed some of her office decorations to make streamers.”

She then goes on to the most important part of the celebration—the dress. A quick Google search reveals that Filipino debut dresses are nothing short of the stuff of weddings, and it is customary for the debutante to be seen in two to three gowns throughout the celebration. 

“My mum had actually signed a contract with a bridal dress company in Singapore and commissioned the tailoring of a dress for me in the Philippines,” said Kirsten. Because neither arrangement pulled through in the end, the older woman brought out her own bridesmaid dress from two decades ago and lent it to her daughter, undertaking the painstaking process of tailoring by herself. 

One dress, two generations of women.

And what’s a celebration without food? Instead of spending an exorbitant amount of money per head as they would have for a party at a country club, Kirsten’s parents invested in a simpler but nonetheless heartwarming dinner of Kirsten’s favourite foods, including fishball noodles, pork ribs, and fish fillet. 

The cake was not forgotten either: “Since the cake shops were closed, my mum decided to bake her own triple-tier cake,” Kirsten said. “[My parents] had to stay up till 4:30am the night before my celebration to make it.”

“My mum also made my brothers and father learn how to waltz,” Kirsten said, highlighting an integral part of a traditional debut celebration that would usually be done before the teary-eyed mass of family members and friends. Dancing together in the living room was “weird”, Kirsten admitted. “But it was definitely nice to experience.” 

Thus, surrounded by the warmth of family, Kirsten passed into adulthood. And while no longer a dancing queen, Kirsten, young and sweet, sure danced the night away. 

Another May flower who had to confront a very different birthday was Jerome Tay (20S06Q). “When I heard that the circuit breaker period would be extended for another month, I was devastated because it meant that I wouldn’t be able to celebrate my birthday in school,” he shared. “This marked many firsts for me: the first time staying home for my birthday, the first time not being able to hang out with my friends on my birthday, the first time I don’t have plans for my birthday, and the first time I didn’t feel excited for my birthday to come.”

Jerome’s many plans for his 18th birthday had included fancy food and wine tasting, perhaps in a fine dining restaurant with his family and friends. Yet, instead of a grand night out stuffing himself, Jerome’s birthday started with him watching Netflix as the clock struck twelve. With nothing on his schedule, the day felt just like any other ordinary day, rather than one that marked a milestone as he took one step closer to adulthood.

Still, Jerome was not to be disappointed for the next 24 hours. Food deliveries have become a new love language in such unprecedented times, and this was the form that Jerome’s birthday presents took. “I got many, many, many deliveries throughout the whole day,” Jerome said. “Literally. Breakfast, brunch, lunch, tea, dinner and supper. One of my friends even came all the way down to deliver food to me—in line with CB protocol and rules,” he quickly clarified. 

From cake to wings to ramen to milkshakes, Jerome’s house was flooded by an onslaught of food, as well as the kindness that came with it. “I had never had to open my door so many times in a day before. I felt so loved by the experience.”

Maybe just the thought of having so much food to consume would be enough to make anyone baulk; already this writer felt overwhelmed by Jerome’s descriptions. Yet Jerome took on a personal challenge to “devour EVERYTHING”, as a compromise for all his lost plans.

(He did not, however, report on whether or not he succeeded in wolfing everything down; perhaps the truth will reveal itself when school reopens.)

Conclusion

And there we have it: an assortment of Things Y6s Did During HBL (and the unanticipated May holidays that followed). 

Whether or not you count yourselves among them, circuit breaker—and the very gradual lifting of restrictions—still betides us all; we remain woefully separated from our favourite bubble tea orders, classmates, and cramped MRT trips home. 

But as the matter stands, why not take the opportunity to sleep a few more hours everyday? You’ll thank yourself when school reopens next week.

By Noelle Leow (21A01B) and Thet Hninn Zin (21A13A)

The members of the incumbent 39th Students’ Council, donning their formal school uniforms, took their seats in front of their laptops for the first-ever online Students’ Council Investiture Ceremony held in the afternoon of 1st July. At the same time, behind their own laptop screens, their successors joined the Microsoft Teams (MSTeams) call one by one, each filled with the simultaneous thrill and trepidation of starting a new Council term.

The theme of this year’s investiture, 4POLLO, referenced Apollo, the Greek God of light and music. It embodies the 40th Students’ Council’s aim to illuminate the path towards a brighter future, leading the way to forge a stronger and more vibrant Rafflesian school culture.

In a recorded message, the Guest-of-Honour, Mr Kirk D’Souza, President of the 30th Students’ Council, highlighted the need for councillors to be steadfast but flexible, and to look both inward and outward in these trying times. Mr D’Souza encouraged the councillors to take the time for self-reflection and not get caught up in comparing themselves to others, because that would only paralyse them with bitterness and envy. Instead, he urged them to focus on “how [they] can improve [themselves] and be a better version of [themselves] each and every day”. These wise words undoubtedly left a mark on many of his viewers. 

The subsequent speech by Ma Fanghe (20S06L), President of the 39th Students’ Council, reinforced the idea of constantly striving to be better. “For every batch of councillors, the journey is really one about ownership.” He spurred the incoming batch of councillors to go beyond observing the things happening in school, and actively play a part in shaping it.

Next, an appreciation video for the 39ths was screened. The photo montage captured milestones during the 39ths’ Council journey, including their Investiture last year, special events and department initiatives. This was followed by a thank you video initiated by the 40ths to show their appreciation for the contributions of the 39ths.

When asked about how they felt about stepping down, outgoing Secretary Ian Michael Yam (20A01A) described it as “bittersweet”, while outgoing MR House Captain Jannatun Tajrian (20S03A) expressed that the experience was “surreal”. Taj explained how she “spent this entire year being just so busy”, and “suddenly letting go [was] strange, especially with Covid-19, which didn’t give much closure.” This was poignantly expounded on by Ian, who described the feeling as “an acute sense of loss, because [the councillors] have given the best of [their] JC lives to this calling.” However, he expressed confidence in the incoming batch of Councillors and, quoting a line from a poem, remarked that “love [for what we do] is proved in the letting go.”

Up next was the long-anticipated blazer handover. For many who were worried as to how a blazer handover would take place online, the Investiture Committee definitely did not disappoint. They deftly stitched together individual videos submitted by each Councillor to form a jaw-dropping spectacle reminiscent of a kaleidoscope. Many Councillors were awed by the smoothness and coordination of the execution, which some described as “transcending the boundaries of time and space.” 

The blazer handover featured all the 39ths and 40ths, and the smoothness of its execution wowed many.

Following the exciting blazer handover ceremony, the incoming President of the 40ths’ Student Council, Cai Sirui (21S06A), stepped up to give her first address to the school, to echo the hopes and shared vision of the 40ths. “Similar to how individual notes come together to create music, the 40ths hope to bring Rafflesians together and build a community where we all feel like home. This is traditionally undetachable from a shared physical presence, and so it is now our challenge to create a sense of community that can thrive even beyond face-to-face gathering.” Considering the obstacles that the 40ths will have to face in navigating and working around social distancing guidelines, this aptly captured their commitment towards strengthening school spirit and culture even during challenging times.

Lastly, to cement their commitment and responsibilities as members of the Students’ Council, the 69 newly-minted Councillors recited the Council Oath, which was led by Vice-Presidents Foo Loon Wei (21A13A) and Navin Sivakumar (21A01A). The synchrony and solemnity in their recitation of the Oath marked the steadfast dedication and duty that the 40ths were prepared to hold themselves to in their term ahead.

Unlike previous years, there was no singing of the Institution Anthem or the execution of school cheers. Yet despite its physical limitations, the unprecedented online investiture was nevertheless a memorable experience for all Councillors. Incoming Welfare head Tanya Tan (21S03O) praised the Investiture Committee, whom she felt “really did a great job organising and coordinating all the filming and video making”. Loon Wei also pointed out that the “essence of the Council Investiture has been kept; even without the form of a physical ceremony, the symbolic handing over of the leadership was preserved”. Indeed, this year’s investiture came with its own set of distinctive experiences. Many departments made it a point to meet up after the ceremony was over to bond and talk about their hopes for the term ahead. Some departments even pinned their department members’ videos during the investiture to recreate the atmosphere of being invested together. 

The Investiture marked not only a cause for celebration for the outgoing 39ths and incoming 40ths, but also the official start of the 40ths’ term. What would the 40ths wish to accomplish in their term?

Incoming CCAD head Narakattuvalappil Netra (21A13A) shared: “Stepping up is quite scary and exciting—I’ve not really grasped the responsibilities and expectations that come with my position and it’s a learning process that seems very intimidating. But at the same time, I’m excited because the work that Council does is something I find very unique to the CCA.”

When asked about their thoughts on their role as Councillors given the Covid-19 situation, many underlined the need for creativity and innovation during their term. Li Jiaxin (21S06P), the newly inducted BW Captain, expressed her concern that “[the] situation has caused a barrier between councillors and the school, and more effort is needed to effectively reach out to everyone”. Incoming MT Captain Queena Lim (21S03E) added that she felt that Council had “an extra important role to play in integrating Rafflesians into the school” this time, as it is much harder for students to intermingle and bond beyond their classes. Sirui expressed her ardent hope for Councillors in addressing such concerns: “The situation has amplified the need for Councillors to not just plan our initiatives and events well, but also for us as individuals to exert a positive influence in the school community and beyond.”

As encapsulated by incoming Commz’D head Wesley Lim (21S03F), being a Councillor really means “being a beacon of hope and shining light on the way forward for the school community”. Indeed, just like the light associated with Apollo, the Councillors’ optimism shone through their words, and their enthusiasm was truly heartening. We wish the 40ths all the best in their term ahead as they navigate through the present circumstances, and lead Council, and the school, on to greater heights!

By Afeef Ikhwan (21A13B) and Max Chwa (21A01B) 

Love, are you there?

That’s the English translation of Amour T’es Là?, the name that Raffles Jazz has given to its annual concert this year. Scenes from 80s indie romance films come to mind when hearing the title; the performances that Jazz put up here definitely achieve that same atmosphere. And the pandemic situation we are currently facing did not in the least deter them from delivering their very best musicianship. The CCA is alive and kicking, albeit in a slightly different form this time around.

Amour T’es La? is essentially an “online concert”—or rather, a full album comprising 14 songs—uploaded on the school’s online learning portal, Ivy. It’s the proud result of a massive group effort that required extensive coordination and communication through various digital means. Throughout this process, members of Raffles Jazz faced numerous difficulties, having to record themselves without the proper equipment or environment whilst learning to mix tracks for the first time. After the completion of each draft, other members of Raffles Jazz (and even alumni) would critique their recordings, and the cycle would begin anew. However, Raffles Jazz pressed on, eventually creating the final product that we can listen to and enjoy today. Although listening to these tracks digitally isn’t as electrifying as attending live performances, it does evoke a distinct sense of intimacy with its own unique appeal. 

A’mour T’es Là? gets the ball rolling with “L-O-V-E”, an evergreen swing piece originally released by Nat King Cole in the late summer of 1964. Since then, other prominent figures, including the likes of Michael Buble and the Glee cast, have sung their own renditions of this beloved classic. Raffles Jazz largely sticks to the original arrangement of the song, but their cover is made distinctive through the use of a female vocalist. Du Yilin’s (21S03O) vocals take the spotlight here; the warm, mellifluous tone of her voice is akin to a cool breeze on a summer’s day. “Love was made for me and you,” she proclaims as the song culminates with the crash of the cymbals. “L-O-V-E” is an apt album opener that sets the stage for what is to come—an album focused on the idea of, you guessed it, love!

Coming in at almost seven minutes, “My One and Only Love” is the longest song on the record. Add that to the absence of any vocals, and you have a much-needed instrumental break after the spirited performance of “L-O-V-E”. Lam Weng Chung (20S03Q), the guitarist, and An Haining (20S03H), the alto saxophonist, kick the song off with a duet, having a conversation without words. Halfway through, the song picks up speed and goes into double-time, providing a burst of energy and a change in soundscape for the listener. “My One and Only Love” then returns to its original tempo, possibly representing the ups and downs of a relationship. But one thing remains constant: the sheer skill of the instrumentalists, not unlike the very Frank Sinatra our Jazz musicians emulate.

“For once in my life, I have someone who needs me!” Yilin returns as the main vocalist in the next piece, “For Once in My Life”. As soon as the song starts with lively guitar strums (courtesy of Gladys Li, 21A13B), we just know we are going to be treated to an upbeat affair. It’s hard not to get swept up by the sheer energy of the exhilarating bassline, a far cry from the surreal, dreamlike nature of the previous songs. Raffles Jazz made the right choice in following Stevie Wonder’s arrangement of this song; it’s a welcome change of pace to the overall sound of the album. And despite being the shortest song on the album (barely under three minutes long), “For Once in My Life” injects much-needed energy to the album in the song’s brief running time. 

Matching the uplifting atmosphere of the previous offering is “Down in Brazil”, a sweet ditty with roots in the bossa nova genre of the 1960s. The lyrics, which affectionately portray Brazil as a place to forget the mayhem of modern-day life, match the brisk yet soothing melody perfectly. “Down in Brazil” is almost cathartic in nature; it openly expresses the longing to satiate one’s wanderlust. Listening to this song is like experiencing a light breeze on a secluded beach: you savour the cool it brings before it fades away when you least expect it. 

Weng Chung, the bandleader for “Down in Brazil”, claims that this is by far his favourite track on the album. In particular, he thoroughly enjoyed working with his band members while producing the track, even with the restrictions posed by COVID-19. 

“To witness the juniors learning and growing as a jazz musician in this arduous journey is really the biggest assurance to me as a senior.” he remarked fondly.

“I am also really grateful to my batchmates for helping me in mixing [the songs] and encouraging me along the way,” he added. “To me, this is the end product of all our hard work and I really love it very much.” 

Up next—are we in a hotel lobby? “On Green Dolphin Street” certainly provides the classy atmosphere of one! The second song on the album without any vocalists places the limelight fully on the instruments. Its sparse arrangement does not demand much from your hearing, with the exception of Kong Pek Yan’s (20S06A) well-executed bass solo. Our budding musicians have certainly done this song justice, especially considering that this song is a widely-known jazz standard. “On Green Dolphin Street” is easy listening through and through, making it perfect for your study playlist.

Coming right after this is “Tank!”, a favourite of both writers of this article. “Tank!” sounds like something straight out of an action movie soundtrack, which isn’t too far off the mark: it’s the opening theme from the iconic Japanese science-fiction show Cowboy Bebop. It ticks all the checkboxes of a legendary song: a quirky beat, unexpected musical twists, and the ever-charming saxophone. Although A’mour T’es La? has many covers of classics and standards, the CCA’s reinventions of more modern songs give the album a certain relatability, making it at once engaging and artful. 

In gruesome detail, Charisse Kwong (20S06A) described to us the painstakingly taxing process of producing the song. “‘Tank!’ isn’t my favourite song in the album because I very AMBITIOUSLY tried to transcribe the entire rhythm section part from a platina jazz cover… and ended up using around 13 different percussion MIDIs. I live by the motto ‘go big or go home’ and so I went absolute bonkers with the panning.”

However, the vast majority of Jazz members share the same enthusiasm as us about “Tank!”. Gladys finds it to be their best work precisely because it was difficult to produce. 

“While it was the most painful, and also one of the hardest songs I’ve played, it taught me so many things about music and playing together in a band, even if it was over the internet,” she commented sheepishly.  “The process of recording ‘Tank!’ was very memorable, and what you are listening to today is the end result after we created what was originally an utter monstrosity. I hope you listen to ‘Tank!’ and think of our pain!”

“From the multi-instrumentalists that provided the amazing harmonies, to the many, many, many man-hours that the band members put into practising and perfecting the song, the spirit of excellence and unity within the CCA was shown here. Listen to ‘Tank!’, please, listen to ‘Tank!’” Caleb Poon (21S03L) added, not wasting the opportunity to squeeze in promotion at the end.  

We are now in Portuguese territory with the arrival of “Desafinado”. Literally translating to “out of key” in English, vocalist Teo Gi Sing (20S06T) could not be further from such a label. She even sings in Portuguese for the entirety of the song—kudos to her for accomplishing this feat! Despite not understanding the language, the nuance and emotion conveyed through her unique interpretation of the song’s vocal arrangement is something you can’t help but admire. After all, music is universal. 

After the wistful hues of “Desafinado”, we have the privilege of listening to the more controlled stylings of “Afternoon in Paris”. Unlike the earlier pieces, this song has a certain jaunty playfulness to it. However, it still retains a minimalistic vibe; its entrancing rhythm feels reminiscent of a stroll down the beautiful streets of Paris. Here, the keys and guitar add a dramatic flair to the music whilst making sure that a sense of structure is retained. It’s not hard to see why “Afternoon in Paris” is a jazz standard that has been around since 1949.

With “These Foolish Things”, we see a return to the more sorrowful mood that characterised “Desafinado”. In this piece, the instruments take a back seat, allowing Chiew Chern Faye’s (20S06N) voice to shine, radiant and enchanting. The stripped-down nature of the song places less emphasis on impressing us with technical skill. Instead, it chooses to focus on emotion, lending it a powerful vulnerability as we immerse ourselves in the bittersweet atmosphere. 

In sharp contrast, “Cheek to Cheek” rejects the sombre view of love portrayed in “These Foolish Things”. Instead, it seems to revel in the joys of love as reflected in the close, almost brazen intimacy of “dancing cheek to cheek”. The piece features a magnificent scat solo from Yilin—made even more impressive by the fact that she’s only Year 5. As the song peters to its end, the animated beats of Benjamin Silver Mathew’s (21A13A) drumming set it apart from the rest of the songs.

The following piece, “Brazil” (not to be confused with “Down in Brazil”), starts on a mournful note, but quickly becomes one of the most energetic tracks. The use of a shaker and triangle imbues the song with a spark of vitality, while the frequent shifts from major to minor keys lend the piece a sleek and dark yet mischievous edge. It’s almost as if the musicians are teasing the audience with their easy shifts in mood, all the while keeping the same vigorous rhythm. Much like the “watercolour of Brazil” it seeks to paint, the piece is at once cohesive and disparate. One thing’s for sure: “Brazil” is undoubtedly hypnotic. 

Even after the first 11 pieces, Raffles Jazz remains intent on keeping us on our toes. “Strasbourg / St. Denis” is the first and only piece in the album that infuses both funk and hip hop, and it definitely shows. The two genres blend with jazz in mesmerising ways, giving the track a dimension that the others lack. This reveals itself in an effortless stylishness that the piece brims with, a sense of laid-back yet daring panache that makes for a refreshing change. The drum solo is a clear example of this. It stands in stark contrast with the more melody-centred performances, stunning the audience with its sheer audacity. This gives the piece a certain je nais se quois that can only be described in one word—attitude. 

The buildup of energy and passion in “Brazil and Strasbourg / St. Denis” is only further added to with “Amour T’es Là”, the piece that this concert is named after. It’s a testament to the unity and teamwork that exists within the CCA, with three voices in perfect harmony and the keys, drums, and guitar all given their own moments in the spotlight. The gradual slowing of the music’s pace draws the listener in, only for the song to erupt with vivacity once again, all voices and instruments intertwined together as one complete whole.

“Amour T’es Là” isn’t just a highlight for the audience; it’s also very meaningful to the Year 6s in the Amour band, all of whom have wanted to play the song since last year. “It’s a dream come true,” Charisse confided. 

Finally, Raffles Jazz finishes with an interpretation of “September” by Earth, Wind & Fire. With the entire Year 6 band involved, the piece feels like one final performance before the inevitable pass of the baton. The song itself is filled with nostalgia, fitting for a performance that evokes so many memories in its players, but the way in which it’s been reimagined infuses it with new life. It jolts us from the beautiful, romantic images painted by pieces from more foreign cultures through its overwhelming excitement for the present. The piece takes the playfulness illustrated by previous pieces to its peak, surprising us with the appearance of a male vocalist in the form of Warren Wong (20S03I). Additionally, other instruments are used to imitate brass instruments in a creative attempt at using different effects to create different sounds. By surpassing all expectations, “September” excites the audience with an element of surprise even as the concert draws to a close, invigorating us with a feeling of buoyant joy. 

Amour T’es Là —“Love, are you there?”. After such show-stopping performances, it feels impossible not to love the online concert that Raffles Jazz has created. It’s truly heartening to see such a display of musical excellence and resilience in spite of all the adversity that COVID-19 has brought to every one of us. If you haven’t listened to the online concert yet, try it! Who knows? You might be pleasantly surprised.

RI staff and students can access Amour T’es Là here. 

By Elizabeth Paulyn Gostelow (21A01B) and Rachel Ho (21A01B)

Studio Ghibli classics have long prevailed over the ebb and flow of film trends, and their recent debut on streaming platforms has only cemented their place as perennial masterpieces. The animation studio has teamed up with streaming giants such as Netflix, Hulu and HBO Max to immerse audiences around the globe in the fantastical world of Ghibli. While Ghibli films offer a perfect respite from dreary quarantine life, their true charm lies in their percipience of the human condition, and can invoke much reflection among viewers. 

Princess Mononoke (San) and Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind (Nausicaä) exemplify the delicacy with which Ghibli movies explore complex issues. They share an environmental focus but are not necessarily environmentalist, and they expound on the tension between man and nature. Unlike Disney, this tension isn’t characterised by easy moral simplifications oft-seen in American animation. Instead, these movies embrace ambiguity and allow viewers to make their own judgement on how to respect and appreciate nature, and negotiate that fine balance between self-preservation and exploitation.

Princess Mononoke begins in 15th century Japan where the main character Ashitaka is a young prince of the disappearing Emishi people. Having been cursed by a demonized boar god, he must journey to find a cure. In his quest he encounters San, a young warrior raised by wolf gods fighting to protect her forest; and Lady Eboshi, the leader of an industrialized settlement (Irontown) who is waging war against it. Ashitaka tries to mediate between the two, all the while battling the deviant nature of his cursed arm. 

Nausicaä is set in an apocalyptic world with an ecosystem in shambles. 1000 years prior to its current setting, a massive war—named the Seven Days of Fire—obliterated civilization and produced the Toxic Jungle, a colossal forest inhabited by mutant creatures such as Ohms. The conflict between the remaining surviving humans and the environment rages on as the world descends into complete inhospitality. Nausicaä, the young princess of the Valley of the Wind, is the world’s sole remaining beacon of hope. Accompanied by the introspective warrior Lord Yupa and guided by her acute understanding of the environment and the wildlife which inhabit it, she seeks to find a cure for the decaying planet. 

Conflict is a point of central exploration in both films and they both feature some riveting action sequences. Miyazaki’s skill at using movement to create excitement and peril shines through in the aviation scenes of Nausicaä and opening chase of Princess Mononoke. Overall, the animation oeuvres are visually arresting and magnetic—when the luminous Nightwalker materialises against the night sky in Princess Mononoke, its eerie beauty sends shivers down your spine. To achieve such magical immersiveness, Miyazaki doesn’t use the glitzy style or special effects of his contemporaries; rather, he relies on a fervent attention to detail which makes Ghibli worlds feel tactile and realistic despite their imaginative aspects. 

Joe Hisashi’s music is intrinsic to any Ghibli film, and especially so in these two films, where at times complex emotions and themes are best expressed through music. Interwoven with Hisashi’s music, the film experience becomes transcendental. For example, in Legend of Ashitaka, the ominous overtures crescendo into a stirring chorus that resonates with Ashitaka’s arrival in uncharted territory. Similarly, the melancholic soundtrack of Nausicaä seems to mourn the wonderful beauty of its cruel world.                

Another striking commonality between Princess Mononoke and Nausicaä is the presence of strong female characters. Both San and Nausicaä are independent, capable and assertive. They also both happen to be princesses; not the ditzy, feeble kind but inspiring leaders who command respect from their clan or village. Relative to their male counterparts, they are portrayed to be on equal if not higher footing and seem to possess traditionally masculine traits of greater strength, tenacity, and courage… To match Miyazaki’s strong heroines are equally compelling female antagonists: Lady Eboshi and Kushana act as foils to the female leads and share most if not all of their characteristics—they lead armies or towns, are extremely competent in combat and are courageous enough to realise their visionary causes.

But what sets the antagonists apart from San and Nausicaä is their defining trait: ambition. Lady Eboshi and Kushana are both driven by their desire to rule the earth. They claim to conquer in the name of peace and for the utilitarian good: Kushana seizes territory and creates a destructive god warrior to fight the Sea of Decay, and Lady Eboshi designs and uses vicious weaponry against her foes for the preservation of Irontown. This consequentialist approach comes into question when their pragmatism borderlines cruelty, and the destruction they cause is perceived to outweigh any potential gains. 

Overall, Princess Mononoke delved deeper into the characters than Nausicaä, which still relied on character tropes to drive the plot. Lady Eboshi and Kushana are admirable for their aforementioned qualities; but unlike Kushana, Lady Eboshi is more than a cold-blooded villain bent on her cause. Her compassion toward the lepers and empowering treatment of the women in Irontown makes her more likeable, relatable and someone the audience can sympathise more readily with.

As for the heroines, despite being charismatic, influential, understanding, brave, and passionate (or perhaps because of these very traits), Nausicäa seems little more than a Mary Sue—an over-idealized fictional character who is flawless but also highly unbelievable. There is little depth or complexity to her, and like Cinderella or other well-known Mary Sues, she is nothing but a victim of her environment trying to ‘right’ the ‘wrongs’. Princess Mononoke is less altruistic and magnanimous by comparison: her passion often lapses into blind rage and the resentment she bears against humans makes her cynical, even towards Ashitaka, who is pacifistic and impartial to both man and nature. So in moments when she softens and shows vulnerability, her humanity is all the more accentuated. 

Early on in Princess Mononoke, the conflict is established when Prince Ashitaka comes under a terrible curse from the enraged boar god Nago who was set on destroying Ashitaka’s village in an effort to take his anger out on humanity. It is soon discovered that Nago’s rage was driven by the human’s destruction of the forest and an embedded bullet in his body, courtesy of Lady Eboshi’s manufactured guns. 

Ashitaka’s cursed arm endows him with incredible physical strength that teeters on uncontrollable, and even causes him to murder others against his own will. It is representative of the mindless violence one commits which arises from such all-consuming hatred. It would seem plausible to the viewer that Ashitaka may bear resentment against the forest gods after one almost wiped out his entire village—much like how the people of Irontown bear hatred towards the forest gods for forbidding them to use nature’s resources for human survival. This would continue the vicious cycle of hatred, ergo the downward-spiral of their embittered rivalry. 

But Prince Ashitaka would be the one who breaks this cycle. In spite of a life-threatening curse and disembodied violent impulses, he still manages his anger better than any side he defends. His determination ‘to see with eyes unclouded’ encapsulates the spirit of the film: he refuses to blind himself with hate or prejudice and is resolved to save all sides from mutual destruction. This culminates in a scene near the end of the film when he finally makes a peace offering to the Forest Spirit on behalf of mankind in an attempt at reconciliation—a moment symbolic of his undeterred commitment to pacifism.  

The fundamental opposition between man and nature is vibrantly enhanced through the illustration of each party’s stake in their survival. 

Instead of leaving nature as an abstract monolithic entity, Miyazaki likens it to human society. There are various animal clans and a clear hierarchical order within each one—the boar clan is led by Nago and the wolf clan by Moro. These animal gods possess humanlike characteristics as well as the ability to communicate in human language, which allows the audience to better relate to them. Hence, through the anthropomorphisation of nature, we feel its anguish at having its resources exploited by humans such as Lady Eboshi.

While viewers may initially dislike Lady Eboshi for her seemingly vicious destruction of the forest, we learn to consider her perspective once she reveals that the forest had supplies (such as iron) which were essential to Irontown’s survival. This prompts viewers to contemplate whether human motives of survival justify our exploitation of nature’s resources. For example, our rapid deforestation undoubtedly causes wildlife to suffer from loss of habitats. But we too have to fulfill our needs for infrastructure expansion and urbanization—so where should we draw the line on deriving benefits from our environment?

However, the humans in Princess Mononoke too are divided in their aims. San, raised by wolves, discards her human identity and embraces her role in preserving the forest by joining the attack on Irontown. Meanwhile, the secondary antagonist Monk Jigo puts on a facade of alliance with Lady Eboshi to conceal his true motive of obtaining the Forest Spirit’s head—in order to receive a generous reward from Emperor Mikado, who believes that the Forest Spirit’s blood grants one the gift of immortality. Ashitaka, on the other hand, takes no sides, making reconciliation his main goal.

Nausicaä too illustrates man’s struggle to peacefully coexist with nature. The expanding Sea of Decay and the Toxic Jungle are phenomena first made out in the movie to be alarming threats to mankind—ridden with poisonous wildlife that will soon envelope the human kingdoms and threaten human survival.

But the truth behind their origin is eventually revealed: nature has grown toxic because of human pollution. Untainted by human touch it was a source of nourishment and growth, providing pure drinking water and powering windmills for the valley’s sustenance. The wildlife in the Toxic Jungle are merely manifestations of humanity’s detrimental impact on the environment, and their mutations are only to ensure survival. From this perspective, perhaps the hideous-looking insects were not mindlessly bent on killing humans, but fierce protectors of the only place they could inhabit.

Princess Nausicaä is a beacon of hope against this conflict-ridden backdrop. Like Ashitaka, she is presented as a mediator showing magnanimity and compassion to all alike—from the grotesque Ohm creatures to her father’s murderer. She also willingly sacrifices herself for a slim hope of reconciliation at the climax of the movie, where she is firmly planted between the herd of angry Ohm creatures and her people.

Nature’s wrath is depicted as a repercussion that humanity inevitably ends up paying for—the Forest Spirit’s body destroys everything it touches after being beheaded by Lady Eboshi; and the Ohms nearly murder Nausicaä in their blinded rage at the cruelty towards their own species. 

Nonetheless, Miyazaki believes there is light at the end of the tunnel: humanity is allowed to start over and try to learn how to live harmoniously with nature. By the end of both movies, a greater understanding of nature is fostered, signifying a hope for the next generation.

The films significantly illustrate the change in Miyazaki’s view on man’s relationship with nature. Both movies seem to end off on a hopeful note, albeit a more cautious optimism in Princess Mononoke. Nausicaä shines light on the message that peaceful coexistence is possible if man endeavours to reconnect with nature, while Princess Mononoke—released 13 years later—seems to depict the almost inevitable clash of interest between man and nature. 

Nausicaä’s unorthodox belief that all life should be valued equally—whether it be poisonous plants or innocent villagers—challenges the supremacy of human life and human domination of Earth’s ecosystem. The more ambivalent ending of Mononoke where San and Ashitaka part ways amicably builds upon this principle of equality; their differences do not end in assimilation or conflict but coexistence. ‘We depict hatred, but it is to depict that there are more important things. We depict a curse, to depict the joy of liberation.’ This poignant quote from Miyazaki reminds us that the raging wars in Princess Mononoke and Nausicaä bear hope for a more peaceful and balanced world.

Prince Ashitaka and Princess Nausicaä are more than protagonists. They are emblematic of Miyazaki’s visions for a new generation committed to a cause larger than themselves, a generation willing to take significant action.

With increasing global pressure to fight against the worsening climate crisis, youths are making their voices heard. In the local scene, youths are flocking to participate in climate change events such as the Climate Change Rally, marking a key milestone in youth activism. It should be now more than ever that these visionary characters in Ghibli inspire a paradigm shift in our attitudes towards the environment, as we too prepare to take charge of our future.

By Afeef Ikhwan (21A13B), Elizabeth Paulyn Gostelow (21A01B), Shaun Loh (21A01A)

One metre apart.

This short distance between us has become the norm following the outbreak of COVID-19. But unlike the many brightly coloured floor markers and bolded signs around us, there’s a more invisible effect of social distancing that we don’t address as openly.

Perhaps it was gradual. A week of Home Based Learning (HBL). A slew of cancelled outings with friends. A descent into a near-complete lack of physical interaction. A chest screwed tight with a sense of alienation from friends and relatives.

Now more than ever, it is crucial to address our mental health in order to get through these uncertain times together. To speak up from behind that stuffy, muting mask and say how we truly feel about our lonely lifestyles as ‘quaranteens.’

“It is [necessary] to discuss mental health during the COVID-19 pandemic for the circuit breaker has led to many feeling upset and depressed. There is an uncertain future [ahead] that everyone is anxious about. To make things worse, [our] lack of social interaction due to social distancing forces us to face our issues in solitude.”

Gopesh Kannan (21S03B)

This silent isolation we currently face is perfectly encapsulated in this year’s Mental Health Awareness Week (MHAW) theme: Masks, Unmasked. The theme revolves around the idea of wanting to break away from the knee-jerk responses of ‘I’m fine’ and ‘I’m doing alright’ when one really isn’t. From a Peer Helper’s perspective, Max Chwa (21A01B) shared that Masks, Unmasked is also “a reference to the pandemic, and how it has distanced us from one another”.

This MHAW, the Peer Helpers are advocating for open, honest communication through professional talks while raising awareness through attractive posters in order for the school body to cope with this pandemic together.

Physical Exhibition

Keeping in line with this year’s theme of Masks, Unmasked, the Peer Helpers will be showcasing project posters by their predecessors along the canteen walkway in three cycles.

Cycle 1 (Monday, Tuesday): Behind the masks: Mind 

The Peer Helpers hope to instill an understanding of what’s “behind the mask”—that is, to dispel the stigma surrounding seeking help for mental health issues. Informative posters on various mental health disorders such as social anxiety and Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD) will motivate students to have open, well-informed discussions on these sensitive topics. These students will, in turn, become more engaged with and aware of these real issues. 

Cycle 2 (Wednesday, Thursday): Behind the masks: Body Image  

Although technically under the “mental health disorder” umbrella, the Peer Helpers wish to give special attention to body image issues, which have become particularly prevalent in recent discourse. Body dysmorphia, anorexia nervosa, and bulimia are the three primary disorders that will be brought up and analyzed in this cycle. 

Cycle 3 (Friday): Care behind the mask 

What lies behind your own mask is just as important as what lies behind others’. Self-care is key in this particular cycle, with triggers and stress relief being the principal topics of discussion. A project from previous years, Post-itive Thinking, will be revived, allowing students to learn about the importance of self-gratitude. 

Disclaimer: Please adhere to physical distancing measures when viewing the posters. Although some posters may be very intriguing, do make a mental note to keep a distance from your friends when viewing the exhibition. 

Talks by Guest Speakers

You may be worried that the staple (and arguably most anticipated) events of every MHAW—the well-informed speeches by health professionals—will not be happening this year due to COVID-19. But fret not, they will still be taking place though online conferences. 

Emotional Resilience Talk 

By: INSIGHT Care Corner Singapore (CCS)

Details: 17 August (Monday), 4.30-5.30pm

Have you ever felt so angry and upset that you lost your cool, and when you eventually calmed down, you were puzzled over what triggered it? Or you felt guilty for not responding in the manner that you knew you should have? Come and learn more about some of the emotions we often struggle with and the helpful ways in which we can manage and harness them for spiritual growth!

On Becoming a Shrink – A personal sharing

By: Dr Liow Pei Hsiang

Details: 18 August (Tuesday), 3.30-4.30pm

With almost 30 years of experience in psychiatry, Dr Liow is currently a senior consultant at Khoo Teck Puat Hospital. She will be sharing authentically on her calling—how she became a “shrink” (the colloquial term for “psychiatrist”), what she does as one, who she works with and how her role fits into the big picture. 

Safe Circle: Trauma-Informed Care 

By: Singapore Association for Mental Health (SAMH)

Details: 18 August (Tuesday), 4.30-5.15pm

The 45-min awareness talk will cover a common understanding of trauma and how trauma may be identified. You will also learn about the trauma prevalent among children in Singapore and how trauma can be caused by an event like the COVID-19 pandemic.

Weaving Hope into our Stories

By: Nicole Kay

Details: 19 August (Wednesday), 3.30-4.30pm

Each of us has a story to tell. When we share our personal stories, we begin to build bridges instead of walls, and embrace authenticity instead of apathy. We experience a community that is built upon contagious courage for ourselves. This talk is about discovering the narratives we tell ourselves, what it means to create hope and how to recover our identity in the face of illness. Ironically, it is actually in losing ourselves that we find what really defines us deep down.

Mental Health in Youth

By: ChatHub (Yap Ming Hui & Low Giok Khim)

Details: 19 August (Wednesday), 4.30-5.30pm

The Community Health Assessment Team, or CHAT for short, is a *SCAPE-based group of youth support workers dedicated to spreading awareness of mental health as well as providing access to mental health checkups and resources. Despite having to temporarily suspend face-to-face services, the team hopes to reach out to students through non-physical means, including online talks like this one. 

Understanding the Impact of COVID-19 on Society through the Lens of a Social Worker

By: Mr Zheng Liren

Details: 20 August (Thursday), 3.30-4.30pm

Drawing from his personal experience, Mr Zheng will share about his experience as a social worker.  He will also give us an understanding of how families in the lower socio-economic strata have been affected by COVID-19, and how social work is applied in this climate to these families in need.

Mindfulness in Schools Project

By: Ms Ma Jialin

Details: 20 August (Thursday), 4.30-5.30pm

Stop. Breathe. Pay attention. In a nutshell, mindfulness refers to the training of our attention to be aware of the present instead of worrying about the past or being anxious about the future. In this presentation, some of the evidence-based benefits of being mindful for students will be shared. Come join the talk to experience a short mindfulness practice!

Mental Health Awareness

By: Mahita Vas

Details: 21 August (Friday), 3.30-4.30pm

Mahita will share some facts about mental illness in Singapore before delving into her personal journey living with bipolar disorder. She is very open about her mental health journey and welcomes questions from the audience.

Film Screenings

To make up for the lack of hands-on activities due to social distancing measures, the Peer Helpers hope to touch the hearts of Rafflesians with three evocative films that will resonate with every viewer. 

The Buddy (18 min)

Screening time: 17 August (Monday), 3.30pm 

Hidayat is an 8-year-old boy tasked to be a buddy to his classmate, Tam. However, he finds that he is frightened by Tam’s erratic behaviour. But Tam’s parents and teachers merely dismiss him as reclusive. Hidayat learns to accept Tam as different. The two develop a special relationship, eventually making a decision that will change Tam’s life forever.

But Honey, You Look Fine (10 min) 

Screening time: 17 August (Monday), immediately after The Buddy 

This short film revolves around a woman taking her first steps to recover from bulimia whilst looking at the social conditioning that caused it in the first place.

Lost Focus (30 min) 

Screening time: 21 August (Friday), 3.30pm

An aspiring filmmaker is faced with the trauma of potentially losing his grandfather. Meanwhile, Sam struggles with intense self-doubt, which is exacerbated by a strained relationship with his strict father.

Put Your Mask Back On—Wrapping Up the Preview

Needless to say, the Peer Helpers are very enthusiastic about the MHAW activities in store. When asked about which activity he is most looking forward to, Max quipped, “I think the personal sharings by Nicole and Mahita will allow many individuals to feel less alone in their emotional struggles.” 

For Remus Ong (21S03L), the Peer Helpers’ chairperson, it is the mindfulness sharing session he’s most attracted to. “To live a more fulfilling life, I should learn to live in the present more often and appreciate what’s in front of me too—[which is something] I can learn from this session,” he shared.

Remus also reiterated the notion that MHAW serves as a reminder to Rafflesians that it is perfectly okay to discuss mental health issues without the fear of being judged by their peers. 

Finally, he expressed his optimistic viewpoint on society’s perceptions of mental health in the future. “The more we talk about these issues constructively, the easier it will be for mental health to be accepted and embraced by society.”

And that’s MHAW 2020 for you! The Peer Helpers hope to unmask the stigma that masks mental health issues and engage in beneficial conversations for you and your peers’ well-being.

All activities during MHAW will be held from 17 to 21 August on Microsoft Teams via Online My Rest Space. To join the team, please click here.
The Peer Helpers Programme website can be found here.

By Shaun Loh (21A01A; RI), Tan Yu You (21S03H; RI), Jace Bong (20-E1; EJC), Leia Ong (20-U1; EJC), Nicole Chao (20-U5; EJC)

This was written in collaboration with EJC Press as part of Cross Island Impressions, an inter-JC Press collaboration.

A common scenario earlier this year: walking about in school, the voice of a woman chanting “Renegade” would pierce our ears, prompting all listeners within earshot to break into jocular gyrating and dancing.  

Yes, earlier this year, when we could still interact with our friends without masks muffling our voices, when we could make TikToks during breaks, when we could hang out after school at Junction 8 in groups larger than five. Sadly, after the implementation of the circuit breaker measures, many of us feel robbed of these little joys of life. Even though school has resumed, there is still a sense of longing for things to go back to normal.

This is where social media comes into play. For the past three months or so, school culture has been reduced to student council Instagram accounts and online interactions with teachers. We are also relying on social media even more for personal interactions. Furthermore, this state of crisis has led us to increasingly use such platforms to keep abreast of current affairs. 

Yet, do we give too much credit to social media? Ultimately, what exactly is the extent of influence that social media wields over us?

COLLEGIATE OPINION 

Over a hundred students from EJC and RI were surveyed to uncover the role and importance of social media in the personal lives of current Eunoians and Rafflesians. 

Overall, Instagram is—surprise, surprise—the go-to social media platform of choice for Rafflesians and Eunoians alike, with a whopping 84.3% professing daily usage. Consideration was given to other social platforms such as Reddit, TikTok and Facebook, but the popularity of these diminished in descending order, with percentages of 7.4, 5.6 and 2.3 respectively. 

Furthermore, social media is extremely significant in students’ lives: when asked to rate the importance of social media platforms in their lives, an overwhelming majority (83.3%) rated it at least 4 on a scale of 1 to 5, with the latter being the highest level of importance. 

From these statistics, it is evident that Eunoians and Rafflesians—and, perhaps, youth in general—have placed a high degree of priority on social media, confirming its prevalence in our personal lives.

How, then, do students and teachers from EJC and RI feel about the significance social media has in maintaining connections with friends? 

“Social media is entertaining at times and allows us to connect better with people around us, fostering better relationships and bringing us closer together,” said Alastor Lai, a Year 5 student from RI. “Participating in [social media] trends together with friends also helps cultivate common interests and a common topic of discussion, keeping the friendship exciting!”

Rachel Ong, a J1 Eunoian, also shared similar sentiments: “Social media platforms like Instagram are able to give me topics to talk about with my friends.” When asked about what they talk about, Rachel replied: “A whole range of topics, from frivolous TikTok trends to cute guys in school, to more serious issues like cultural appropriation.” 

Of course, technology isn’t just for us teenagers. Many teachers also have Instagram accounts of their own, which many students happily follow to find out more about their teachers’ personal lives and to keep in contact after graduation.

“Instagram is quite useful [for building connections] if teachers and students are willing to reciprocate the other’s attempts to reach out,” said Mrs Brigitte Koh, an EJC Mathematics teacher. 

Year 5 RI student Justin Chen also shared: “I’ve talked to my ex-teachers from secondary school on Instagram during this period of time. It’s really heartwarming to be able to reconnect with them after graduating. I guess that’s one of the blessings of this Circuit Breaker.”

EJC Dean (JC1), Mr Ganison Rajamohan, offered another dimension: “Social media has helped identify certain circumstances such as depression, where friends of the student facing the problems contact teachers out of concern after the student uploads particularly worrying social media posts.”

Thus, social media affords us a more personal understanding of the interests of our peers and teachers. It also provides us with an alternative avenue to better understand our friends not just during these turbulent times, but also during the everyday challenges we face. 

NOT JUST FOR “RENEGADE”

On top of deepening relationships, social media has definitely brought to light pertinent social issues we would not have otherwise discovered. The shortened, bite-sized amounts of information we receive from social media allow us to obtain our news at a faster pace. Indeed, a very intrigued Raffles GP teacher (who declined to be named) quipped: “SJW culture is so entrenched nowadays! I think that while it’s very extreme on the internet, it’s so heartening to at least see Singaporean teenagers having opinions on social issues. They definitely wouldn’t be this knowledgeable without the low barriers of social media!”

On a more personal level, Ms Gladys Wong (EJC) started an inspirational calligraphy Instagram account to record her progress in learning the skill. Ms Wong chooses to letter quotes that motivate herself, in hopes of being able to motivate viewers in turn. She fondly shared how an ex-student messaged her to say that she was motivated by her posts to continue working towards her university exams. 

Clearly, the act of creating content on social media is not merely a way to entertain others but a way to motivate them too. It can also serve as a personal outlet for creativity and self-improvement. 

Of course, social media is not a bed of roses: it has the potential to hurt, though often unintentionally. An RI teacher (who also declined to be named) reminded students to “share only positive or uplifting posts in support of causes, subjects and people you care about”, and cautioned them to be mindful of what they post, lest they end up oversharing or harming others. 

In addition, social media may become more of a distraction than a tool to maintain connections with friends to some. Ms Christina Tan (RI) noted that she had come across “some brilliant students who deactivate their accounts two months before the A Levels so that they can concentrate on their studies and return only after the As are over”. 

A CONTRIBUTOR TO SCHOOL CULTURE? 

Social media has not just influenced the individual lives of so many Rafflesians and Eunoians, but has also contributed immensely to the school cultures of RI and EJC. 

When asked to rate the degree to which they feel social media fosters school culture on a scale of 1 (not a significant role) to 5 (a very significant role), a significant 81.8% of respondents rated it at least a 4 out of 5. 80% also cited mini challenges as the main method of cultivating school spirit through social media, while 62.7% cited the publicity of school events. 

“Apart from the usual promotion of school events, I think Instagram challenges have been really trendy this year. I think it started from TikTok challenges. The Student Council definitely makes good use of these challenges to foster camaraderie among everyone,” said a J2 Eunoian who wanted to remain anonymous.

Indeed, the maximisation of interactive opportunities provided by social media is not something exclusive to EJC only. Gemma Mollison, a student councillor from RI, also shared: “We really try to use the school Instagram account to engage everyone. At the start of the year, everyone was so hooked on Instagram Story filters, so Council decided to design a filter for the Open House logo. It’s all about fun!” 

Mrs Koh expanded upon this, highlighting the similarity between how politicians and schools use their social media platforms to push out messages. “Councillors, Gliders (from the EJ GLIDE Program) as well as CCAs all use this platform to showcase their own organisations. EJ Media is one of these CCAs: their members take pictures to capture memorable moments in school and help shape the EJ narrative.”

The significance of social media has also increased exponentially during this trying period of COVID-19. With everyone banned from gatherings, it is inevitable to miss meeting friends and classmates. Even after school has resumed, we still can’t stay back to hang out or study with one another. 

When asked about the use of social media platforms during the Circuit Breaker period, one thing came to the mind of RI student Sarah Goldman: “I think everyone was making Bingo templates in April during HBL to post on their Instagram Stories.” 

If you didn’t already know, a Bingo template involves a checklist for students to match their own activities in school to the ones stated on the template. On their Instagram Stories, students would tick off the corresponding boxes hoping to get five ticks in a row, which would constitute a “bingo”.

Sarah further explained: “I think it’s really heartwarming, because not only did the Students’ Council design the templates, but our individual classes also made our own to play. It really creates a sense of belonging.” 

Nonetheless, many have differing opinions on whether social media is the primary medium for fostering school culture. 47.3% of the 112 surveyed agreed that social media is the primary medium, while 32.7% claimed that it only somewhat is and 20% disagreed entirely. 

“Social media does offer some similarities to the Mean Girls idea of cliques. All of us gravitate to like-minded friends for identity and other nerdy existential concerns. When we post pictures of our friend circles, we are reminded of the distance between one another’s cliques,” a student from EJC who swore off Instagram shared on why she feels that social media increases fragmentation. 

Still, another group of reserved students in school had something to say. “Is school culture so important? Student councils and their Instagram accounts are so overly cheery, it’s almost inauthentic,” said an anonymous Year 6 Rafflesian. Indeed, this sense of cynicism towards ideological aspects of institutions is not something unfamiliar to all of us. 

After all, social media is innately performative, and the disconnect between appearances online and reality may actually alienate us from one another. An EJC student who declined to be named remarked that school social media posts were at times “superficial and overly optimistic”. And yet another EJC student summed up his thoughts in a short, dismissive statement: “Some of us just don’t care.”

FINAL THOUGHTS 

Perhaps social media has helped you feel closer to your friends, or opened you up to the concept of school spirit, or made learning a more independent process. Or maybe not: maybe it’s just that second choice you have to settle with because there’s no other way to communicate with your friends. Maybe social media is too superficial in your eyes, and exaggerates school spirit. Maybe social media isn’t that effective of a learning tool for you. Whichever it may be, social media is certainly a force to be reckoned with; it will continue to bring school culture closer to us, help us strengthen our friendships, and imbue us with more knowledge. Although our EJC and RI student bodies are enormous, with 1,250 and 2,400 students respectively, social media does definitely foster closer bonds within our communities, and has become even more essential in unifying the student body.

By Koo ii (21S05A), Max Chwa (21A01B) and Rachel Ho (21A01B)

These interviews were originally featured, in shorter form, in our Teachers’ Day 2020 Special Edition. Here are the full interviews.

NAME: MR DAMIEN MARIE
DEPARTMENT: KNOWLEDGE SKILLS (GP)

What do you call a teacher who’s also a Star Wars fan? Darth Grader.

This teacher is also known as Mr Damien Marie, who joined the school just a few months ago. If he doesn’t sound familiar, that’s because he isn’t─yet.

He sat down with us to introduce himself, sharing his experiences as an educator and an immigrant from Mauritius as well as which Star Wars side he’s on (read on to find out). 

How have you found RI so far? 

It’s been great so far! Everyone has been welcoming: my colleagues have been nice, and even though I started halfway into the year, the transition has been very smooth. My students have been very interesting… but pleasantly so! I feel very grateful that everyone has been very patient and thoughtful in giving me time to adjust.

You joined RI in the middle of the year, so you met your classes for the first time during Home-Based Learning (HBL)! How did that go?

It was weird─for me, at least. HBL isn’t new to me, but this time it was so strange because I didn’t know any one of you. I was worried that it would… not go as planned─after all, first impressions do make a difference (although they don’t last forever)! I shared my anxiety with my colleagues and my wife, who advised me to just do what I do normally and [told me that] if I [needed] to adjust anything, I could always do it later. 

In hindsight, what would you have done differently? 

For a start, I wish I had asked everyone to switch on their webcams! I didn’t insist on it because I thought we would feel awkward. I also would have implemented a more rigid note-taking system online, but I didn’t think it was necessary, especially for our first few introductory sessions, and HBL was about to end anyway. 

With these experiences, though, I have learnt new things as a teacher. HBL might be challenging, but it opens doors to a lot of new opportunities. I had the chance to try new things, like using Nearpod. Even when school reopened, I continued to offer consultations online─it’s way more productive, especially when students go home very late in the day, because they can freshen up and attend the consultation attentively.

What were you up to before joining RI?

I was a teacher at Anderson JC, now Anderson-Serangoon JC. I have taught GP [from] the very beginning, [which was] around 2012 to 2013. I was also the teacher-in-charge [of] the Students’ Council, and then later Basketball, a sport that I… myself [played] when I was still in school. 

I also had the opportunity to do some research papers there, to rethink pedagogies. It’s important to me to grow as an educator, not only in the classroom but also as a professional. You never [perfect] teaching, but you can always get better. For example, teaching is not only about… [the academic aspect], but also what they call “21st Century competencies”, like collaborative learning via technology.

“Throughout my teaching journey, I’ve always believed that everyone can grow and improve, and for me, it’s always about finding what works best for students and getting them to where they want to be.”

Mr Marie

Let’s go back to your life before Singapore─how was life in Mauritius?

It was very quiet – at least back then, [when I was] a teen. It’s a more easygoing way of life. For my final year before A levels, I remember going to the beach and swimming with my friends after school… but after that, I [still] had to attend tuition! [laughs]

On another note, having been in Singapore for most of my adult life, I realised that the Mauritius government could be more productive or prepared for a crisis—take the recent oil spill, for example. We’ve had tourism for a long time, but the recent event prompted questions about what we could have done but haven’t. 

But Mauritius and Singapore also have some similarities. The food is equally diverse, with both French and Indian influences [in Mauritius]. We are truly bilingual too, which is somewhat of a similarity [we share] with Singapore. Most people can hold a conversation in French quite well.

What was it like having to adapt to Singaporean culture?

It was difficult to adapt! 

My first few meals in Singapore were 7-11 sandwiches! I didn’t dare to try local cuisine like nasi lemak and its weird red paste, which I have now found to be delicious, by the way (Ed: for the uninitiated, he is referring to sambal). 

I wasn’t truly adventurous with food until I met my wife, who eats chilli with everything. I just started eating durian during Circuit Breaker: I like the Golden Phoenix (not so bitter) and Old Tree Mao Shan Wang [varieties] (bitter, but the flesh was amazing).  But frog legs and pig intestine soup [are] not [something I am ever] going to [try]. I really enjoy this important part of Singaporean culture; the complexities and variety of food is not seen in every society. 

Oh no, this makes me sound like I only eat! [laughs] I am really lucky that my in-laws have been accepting and willing to involve me [in activities] like going to the temple. I do it out of respect, and also because I want to understand the culture─these are aspects that foreigners don’t usually experience, but instead, judge. 

I do wish I spoke Chinese on top of the little bit of Bahasa Indonesia that I know. But at least I can understand a tad of Chinese that I overhear when buying things.

Last question: Dark side or Light side? 

Always the Dark side! 

In Star Wars, there’s always uncertainty lying between the two factions, but the Dark side is more compelling. There’s good character development: beyond Darth Vader, there were other Siths who really pushed the narrative [from] a new angle. 

That being said, I do have an affinity for Yoda─he had the opportunity to become a Dark-sider, but he knew [that] if he did that he would be highly disruptive. There’s always that appeal to try new things!

NAME: MS SANJEEDA HAQUE MUNMUN
DEPARTMENT: ECONOMICS

What was your life like in Bangladesh?

I grew up in a very small town called Pirojpur in the Southwestern part of Bangladesh. I have very fond memories of growing up in a community where everyone knew one another. The town has not developed much since I’ve left the country, and that’s what I love the most about it. Life felt much simpler and less complicated. 

I still remember my preschool and the punishments I was given if I came unprepared for class. We were taught that our teachers played the most important role in our life after God. They paved the way for us to succeed in every facet of life. Undeniably, my teachers had the most impact in my life even at that young age, and all my fond memories are of the experiences I had in school. 

I grew up with my extended family and was always surrounded by my cousins, aunties and uncles. There were more than 20 of us in the house, and we did almost everything together. Even though I was surrounded by so many people, I still felt free.

Is there anything you still miss about it?

I miss the smell of fresh breeze from the river facing our house in the morning, the sound of roosters crowing at dawn, waking up to a calm, dewy morning, and hearing the sound of call to prayer from the nearby mosque. Surrounded by these sounds, I felt at peace with myself in many ways. 

I miss watching chickens running around because they made me feel that they live much more in the moment than most humans do. I miss observing them and watching them go through the same emotions that humans do. They feel the same bond as we do in small groups, they suffer the same loneliness even when they are surrounded by others, and they feel the absence of other chickens when they go off elsewhere to lay eggs. I miss spending time watching them with my late grandma. She was my friend, my well-wisher and my safety net. 

I miss the rasogollas (syruppy dessert) from the local dessert shop made by the owner himself, Dulal Ghosh uncle. Every time I return to Pirojpur, he still treats me to those rasogollas like he used to when I would return home from school.

What first sparked your interest in Economics?

In college, I had the honour of being taught by one of the best teachers I have ever met in my life. He not only generated my interest in the subject but also taught me the beauty that lies within and behind the philosophy of Economics. He was not driven by the need to complete the syllabus and assess us based on our grades. Instead, he imparted knowledge with all the passion he had within him. 

Economics was more than a field of study to me. It was a source of joy every time I learnt something new. The pursuit of knowledge in this field gave me purpose in life. It was not just a field of study that I chose in order to secure a future but to secure myself happiness and hope.

Afterwards, you pursued your interest in Economics in the UK. How would you describe your university experience?

My university experience was perhaps the best part of my life. It was a time when I learnt the most about myself, who I was, and realised who I wanted to be. I learnt about my strengths as well as my weaknesses. I learnt that I could be all alone by myself but not feel lonely. 

During that journey, I felt the closest to myself. However, I also learnt that I was not sensible in balancing different expectations while being too focused on one thing. In hindsight, I feel like I should have lived a little, been a better friend, and embraced experiences that were only possible back then. I should have taken more risks and been more comfortable with failures and uncertainties. 

I was fortunate to have been surrounded by friends from different parts of the world and communities who were very different from me that accepted me the way I was. I miss the baked potatoes, morning walks to Sainsbury’s, and the warm bread and butter pudding from their local cafés.

After university, what was your career path as an economist like before you joined the teaching line?

I was fortunate to get an offer from the International Monetary Fund (IMF) right after I graduated with my MPhil (Master of Philosophy) in Economics. It was an exciting start to my career as a fresh graduate. While preparing for my MPhil, I wanted to work for the World Bank, but the IMF was a good alternative. My time with the IMF gave me the opportunity to meet new people and learn from them about issues that I felt passionately about.

Why did you choose to become a teacher in Singapore?

A part of me always wanted to teach because my teachers have had the biggest impact on my life. I also aspired to do the same. 

“I wanted to make a difference in someone else’s life, even if it’s in a tiny way.”

Ms Haque

However, the biggest push to become a teacher came when I was teaching at ACS (Independent) as a relief teacher while waiting to start my MPhil. I realised that the best part of teaching is the students. They give us energy to look forward to each day, they teach us patience, they teach us the beauty of forgiveness, and they teach us to be better teachers. They inspire us to continually learn new things from them from our conversations and class discussions. They teach us to see things with different lenses which we would not be able to do on our own. They give our calling a purpose by letting us know that we are needed.

How has living in Singapore been?

Singapore has been an interesting journey for me. Perhaps it’s not the best place [for everyone] but the people in this country have changed my life, from my best friend to my colleagues and students. Unfortunately, I have never felt like I belong here in spite of all the amazing people that I have been blessed to be surrounded by.

What do you appreciate about each country you’ve lived in (the UK, Singapore, etc.)?

I like being in places where I know very few people so that I can be myself without many facades. Perhaps I felt like I was more in tune with myself in the UK than I am in Singapore. In Singapore, I feel like everyone is rushing to complete something and that forces me to do the same. In the process, I feel like I have not been able to appreciate my surroundings as much as I did when I was in the UK. In the UK, I could choose the pace at which I wanted to live, but in Singapore, there is always a fear of being left behind. This fear steals those precious moments that are far more valuable than the end itself.

How did you adapt to the different cultures in each country?

I don’t have anything to adapt to. I have been blessed to be accepted by everyone around me regardless of where I go. I see the differences around me as beauty rather than things to be afraid of. Every time I go somewhere new and different, I want to be a better version of myself, and that helps to make everything around me better as well.

How have these experiences helped you adapt better to the changes brought about by COVID-19?

Being a Bangladeshi, I feel we are born with a lot of resilience as a community. Coming from a humble background and having taken on many responsibilities at a young age as many Bangladeshis do, COVID-19 seems like another phase of my life. Growing up, I faced a lot of uncertainties in my life that I thought I would never be able to overcome. I was never comfortable with changes and spent most parts of my life trying to make sure I had control over everything. However, change is the only constant in life and has made me the person that I am today. 

The changes brought by COVID-19 helped me see life and those around me with a different lens. It taught me to be more empathetic, take on new challenges that I have not explored before that I feel are far more meaningful, take time to work on my mental health in small ways that I have neglected for years, and draw inspiration from the strength demonstrated by those close to me. The changes brought about by COVID-19 inspire us to have faith in the human capacity for resilience and transcendence. These changes offer us experiences that celebrate the grandeur of life and, at the same time, recognise the fundamental human reality that is called suffering.

Change seems to be a constant in your life. Do you have any advice on how others should face it?

I feel like life is like a book—there is a beginning, a middle and an end. Many of us fixate on the end and want to do everything in our power to have the ending that we desire. We want to control the end as if it is a Mathematics or Physics problem where there is only one right answer. In the process, we don’t allow the universe to write the story that will help us grow the most, meet the people we are supposed to meet along the way, and make us a better version of ourselves. Instead, we spend our lives in the driver’s seat, thinking that by controlling all the variables and factors, we will be able to write the ending for ourselves. 

“Life is like an Economics essay where joy comes from the journey of arriving at an answer by looking at different point[s] of views and not from the ending itself.”

Ms Haque

We tend to forget that the beauty of life comes from the uncertainties—the uncertainties that lie with meeting new people, going to new places, learning new things, experiencing new challenges, and finding ourselves in the process. This uncanny sense of uncertainty gives us opportunities to celebrate a nuanced outlook on the contradictions and ambiguities of life. 

I am in no place to give advice to others, but I would like to leave everyone with one of Rabindranath Tagore’s poems that conveys the importance of valuing moments and experiences in life that are considered to be the least important by many of us during our lifetime:

‘Last Curtain’

I know that the day will come
when my sight of this earth shall be lost,
and life will take its leave in silence,
drawing the last curtain over my eyes.
Yet stars will watch at night,
and morning rise as before,
and hours heave like sea waves casting up pleasures and pains.
When I think of this end of my moments,
the barrier of the moments breaks
and I see by the light of death
thy world with its careless treasures.
Rare is its lowliest seat,
rare is its meanest of lives.
Things that I longed for in vain
and things that I got
—let them pass.
Let me but truly possess
the things that I ever spurned
and overlooked.

By Faith Wei (21S03C) and Samyak Jain (21S03A)

These interviews were originally featured, in shorter form, in our Teachers’ Day 2020 Special Edition. Here are the full interviews.

NAME: MR JONATHAN ANG
DEPARTMENT: KNOWLEDGE SKILLS (GP)

A new face in the staffroom of RI, Mr Ang’s ability to radiate warmth makes it easy for him to connect with students in the classroom. But don’t let Mr Ang’s bright disposition and ever-ready smile fool you—as someone with prior experience in competitive lifesaving (yes, that exists!), and whose hobbies include powerlifting, he is not one to be trifled with. 

In this year’s Teachers’ Day feature, he shares his interests in everything from sociology to sports, as well as his personal experience teaching in RI thus far. 

What inspired you to become a teacher?

My mother, who has been a teacher for the last 25 years. [She] always came back home from school with a smile on her face, and that made me really curious as to whether her job was really that enjoyable, and I wasn’t wrong.

The second reason is an immense passion for youth and the development of youth—something that I discovered when I was in university. I did an internship with a non-profit, TRIBE, and they actually help at-risk youth. From there, I really realised that my passion lay with education and really imparting knowledge, and that’s something I’m also really passionate about. I see teaching as a marrying of both my passions for discovery of knowledge and engaging with the young people.

“I see teaching as a marrying of both my passions for discovery of knowledge and engaging with the young people.”

Mr Ang

Why did you choose to teach GP as opposed to any other subject?

[Immediately] Because GP is the best subject! [laughs]

I think there’s a lot more room for me to be creative, and I really enjoy talking about things that are current. So [it’s] the flexibility that General Paper gives to me and the opportunity to talk about real-world issues. Not to say that Biology or Physics is not real-world, but talking about anything under the sun is something that I really enjoy, and I think that GP really gives me the perfect platform to do that.

What’s something unexpected about being a teacher that you’ve learnt?

How awesome RI students can be. [laughs] I think I wouldn’t say it’s unexpected, I don’t really think that I didn’t expect a lot of things because my mum did explain to me the challenges of being a teacher. But I think one unexpected thing is really how much I really enjoyed engaging with all of you. I thought it’d be tiring. I mean, I consider myself to be an ambivert, and I thought I’d be super tired after a day’s work, but every time I go into class, I feel as though I’m in my element, and that really keeps me going. In that sense, that’s also one of the reasons why I became a teacher, yeah.

What do you like to do outside of teaching?

I like to engage in sports. I used to be quite sporty when I was younger—I played softball, hockey; swimming. I tried my hand at life-saving before—like, competitive life-saving. [jokingly] I guess I realised that I couldn’t really perform in, like, red shorts and a yellow shirt, but that’s besides the point. [laughs]

In my free time nowadays I do powerlifting, because I recognise the value of functional training. At the same time I also like to—this might come across really geeky, but—from time to time I like to read academic journals, because I’m quite passionate about sociology; I just like to keep abreast of what’s happening in the academic sphere. At the same time, I’m trying to pick up digital art, like I’m starting off with Canva and stuff and then going into various techniques, because I think it’s an area I want to explore. Yeah, so that’s what I usually do. Apart from that I think I’m quite boring. [laughs]

If you hadn’t become a teacher, what would you want to be and why?

I probably would have been a social worker. [I] would probably work in a correctional facility or become a professor. My professors back in university actually recommended me for a course overseas, but I chose not to take it up because I thought it’d be too boring… Apart from that, when I was young, I wanted to be a football player, but very quickly, I realised that it wasn’t very practical, and I didn’t have the skills, yeah. [laughs]

How has your teaching experience in RI been like so far?

I think it’s been varied. I think as a teacher, there really are good days and bad days, but thankfully, it’s been mostly good.

I really enjoy relating to my students—they like to challenge me intellectually but I think that’s a good thing because firstly, it shows that they’re thinking and that they’re paying attention, and secondly, I feel like it also motivates me to better myself. So, let’s say for example, they ask a difficult question that I’m not able to answer, that gives me added motivation to deepen my understanding and knowledge. That’s a huge part of why teaching is so exciting for me—you never stop learning, you never stop growing, and I think that’s something that really motivates me, yeah.

Do you have any movie or book recommendations?

Actually, I’d recommend this book called The House of the Scorpion by Nancy Farmer. It was written in 2002 and it was about cloning, yeah, like, the ethics behind cloning, and whether the life of a clone is worth less than a human being who’s born naturally. So, I read that when I was 10 and I found that to be really really cool, because it really extended my understanding of ethics and how the world is ordered in that sense. Yeah, so I’d recommend that book.

If you could tell one thing to your students, what would you say to them?

Okay, okay, [clears throat] teacher talk now. [laughs] One thing I’d tell my students is to never stop believing in yourself, in what you can achieve. And the reason why is because your teacher sees so much potential, um so much, ability, and we just really hope that you’ll never stop wanting to learn and wanting to grow, not just academically, but as a person. And we’re really just so excited to see the people that you’ll be when you leave our hands, um, and we just hope that you’ll come to visit us often as well.

NAME: DR JACKSON KOH
DEPARTMENT: CHEMISTRY

Dr Koh, the most important question: Why did you decide to become a teacher? 

I think I’ve been asked this question many times before. I mean right from the start when you do your training as a teacher, they ask you why you want to be a teacher. I find teaching meaningful: being able to impact students’ lives and to guide them. Not only academically but also holistically in terms of character and values. 

So did you always know you would end up becoming a teacher?

Not really. In JC when I did my overseas [university] application, I went for something like chemical engineering. But after that I think I decided it was too much physics [laughs], then I decided to go into chemistry itself.

You’ve taught at a secondary school before, so what is the biggest change from teaching O-levels to A-levels?

Similar [to how] you all are transiting from secondary school to junior college, for me the transition [took place] from classroom-based teaching to the lecture-tutorial style, so it’s very different.

For classroom-based teaching, you are the one who is going to teach every single thing, and then after that you go through the practices with them. So the way the lesson is formatted is a bit different. But in JC, [it’s] the lecture-tutorial style, so the focus on what is being taught during the tutorial is very much different. Thinking more deeply about the questions and the answers [as well as] other things I ask you all to think about will help improve your understanding. 

What was the biggest challenge transitioning from teaching secondary to JC, or the biggest adjustment you had to make?

[Pauses and thinks deeply] The biggest challenge for me now [would] still be familiarity with the syllabus. Other teachers who have been teaching JC for many years would have gone through the cycle a few times and would know the syllabus, question types and common mistakes better [than me]. 

You seem to be very technologically advanced, because you’re always using your Surface Pro and stuff. Was it a challenge teaching during HBL then?

I mean using the Surface Pro doesn’t make me technologically advanced because that is very superficial. Almost all teachers now have a tablet or at least a laptop that can be transformed into a tablet that they can just fold, so there isn’t much difference. Maybe for me, I use the wireless display adaptor so that I can point more naturally to the screen and direct your attention easily during the discussion. That’s the only main difference; I don’t consider myself more technologically advanced. The use of [Microsoft] OneNote was also picked up from my colleagues; they shared with me how to use OneNote in the classroom, so I’ve learnt quite a lot from them. 

As for HBL, it’s a challenge for everyone because our concern isn’t that much about technology or setting up of a Teams meeting [but] more about the pedagogy behind it: how do we ensure that learning is still effectively taking place when you all are not in front of us, when we can’t see your body language. You know sometimes students will frown [or] they will stare at something, but we’re handicapped in that manner during HBL. But the HBL season allowed us to explore things that we don’t usually have the chance to. 

MOE has been talking about HBL but more as a once- or twice-a-year kind of thing, so we don’t usually place an emphasis on that. But because of the COVID situation, we had to transit to full HBL, which really opened up a lot of opportunities for us to try out and experiment [with] new things.

Shifting from teaching to you as a person, I heard you play badminton and volleyball. Have you been able to engage in these activities despite your busy schedule as a JC teacher?

I’ll play with my colleagues or friends when the opportunity [arises], but [because of COVID] it’s been challenging. I played volleyball as a student for six years but I [didn’t] play it that much after I graduated from JC. I mean, volleyball isn’t that popular a sport and it’s kind of hard to find 12 people. The venues are also limited. 

I do play other sports. I was a goalkeeper in JC, in addition to being a volleyball player. So I do play soccer sometimes when friends organise it [and] basketball too recreationally. 

What are your other passions that you do outside of teaching Chemistry?

I cook, following recipes, that kind of thing, to satisfy my stomach as well as my wife’s stomach. I can’t really do the cooking where you create your own recipes.  I also play around with photography a bit—DSLR, shutter speed, exposure, ISO, things like that, and then I have an interest in personal finance in terms of credit cards, some sort of investment, so I do keep myself updated.

What kind of photography do you do—is it landscape photography?

Strictly speaking, it’s more like tourism photography—you know. I take more photos when I’m overseas when I have the opportunity. I’ve tried taking the Milky Way shots in Indonesia. There is a well-known place [in Indonesia] to enjoy the starry skies. 

So, which places have you visited as a tourist?

China, Korea…I’ve been to Korea a few times [because] my wife likes it a lot. I’ve been there—let me count—I’ve lost count but almost four to five times in the past six years. Although I’ve not been to Japan, [I] probably would have gone if not for the COVID situation. 

[I did more travelling] when I was an exchange student: I went to Sweden for exchange. Stockholm. I went to Norway, I went to places around it—Riga, UK, France, Switzerland, Germany. As a student, you know, you just carry your backpack and just go around for one month. 

In all these countries, did you notice the differences in the way they are taught as compared to Singapore?

The main difference I noticed was in the difference in the mode of assessment. Actually, I had my first chemistry oral exam (try saying “Buckminsterfullerene”) in Stockholm. [It] was an equivalent of a Year 4 organic chemistry module and the class size was only 10 to 14 students. So the professor just asked us to schedule a time and then he [would] verbally pose you a question [about] some reaction mechanism or catalysis and then you [would have to] describe the thing and draw out the catalytic cycle for the examiner. So that was quite an eye opener. 

Other than that, the exams that I took there were five to six hours long, but only because they give you more than enough time to complete the paper so you can really do [it] until you reach the maximum of whatever you can do, and then you can just give up and submit. You [would] see people bringing in lunch and sandwiches, apples, canned drinks and stuff like that.

Another professor there said that [there was] no need for us to sit for the final exam if you [didn’t] need a grade that is more than a pass. You just need[ed] to submit your assignment, and if your assignment [was] decent, [he would] just pass you like with the minimum grade. As an exchange student, our grades were not carried back, so it’s either pass or fail. We just needed a pass and [we were] more than happy to take that option.  

Wish we had that for promos.

[laughs] But quality wise, you won’t be able to tell, so that’s the downside. 

For anyone who is aspiring to become a teacher, would you have any advice for them?

“I would say that being a teacher is very different from what a student [might] perceive it to be. You only see the front but don’t see a lot of the back-end stuff that the teacher has to do.”

Dr Koh

The best way to know whether you are suited to be a teacher is to really try it. MOE offers opportunities such as relief teaching or contract teaching. You can teach for half a year to have a taste of what teaching is like.

By Matthew Ethan Ramli (21S03F)

This was originally featured, in a shorter form, in our Teachers’ Day 2020 Special Edition. Here is the full story.

NAME: MR PRHABAGARAN RAMANATHAN
DEPARTMENT: BIOLOGY

Mr Prhabagaran Ramanathan, or better known to his students as Mr Prab, begins his days listening to heavy metal on his commute to school. Just a little more than a decade ago, he stepped into these gates as a student. Now, he has returned to his alma mater to inspire students about the environment, with 3 Year 6 biology classes currently under his care. 

Being the first batch of Year 5s in 2006 to use the new campus, he recalls how the buildings have roughly stayed the same since his student days. Perhaps, the only thing that is different now is how everything has a name, compared with how his batch used to call places in school only by their block letters. Nonetheless, the familiarity with the school has not eroded, with memories of his student life fresh in his mind. Those were the days, he recalls, when Chill was 7-11 and there was a Subway next to the prata stall at the canteen; floorball, the CCA that he was part in, was still only a student-initiated interest group. 

Mr Prab reminisces about some of the teachers who have inspired him throughout his journey here. Dr. Rathiga, for example, used to be his General Paper tutor, while Mr Ngan, who taught him Biology, is now his department colleague. When asked about a teacher who particularly fuelled his passion for the environment, he cites Dr. Adrian Loo, who is now a director at NParks, describing him as “highly respected but at the same time funny and down-to-earth, sharing many things outside of the syllabus”. These crucial formative years here at RJC were the first steps of a long journey of becoming a teacher.  

Since he was young, Mr Prab had always been interested in biology, and being passionate about conservation, he chose to specialise in environmental life sciences in university. After graduating, he took up a job at an environmental consulting firm, where he advised companies on how to best protect and maintain nature when developing infrastructure. 

However, the atmosphere was not ideal, leading him to feel as if environmental consciousness was not well-established there, and everyone “did things for the sake of doing them”. Moreover, being on-call 24/7 to catch wildlife such as wild snakes such as pythons and cobras, when they were found on private property, was one of the toughest parts of the job. He explains that relocating wildlife was less glamorous than what you see on TV, with weekends all burned. Some Sunday nights, he would receive calls to reach a site before seeing that the snake was a small one and slithered away once his team came.

Due to the lack of a work-life balance, coupled with the unsustainable pay, he soon gathered up the courage to quit. Subsequently, he taught tuition on a part-time basis, drove for Uber, and even helped a friend with his coffee-distribution start-up.

Meanwhile, just after National Service, he had met his then-girlfriend, now his wife. She had started teaching at a primary school, and he was amazed at how she remained passionate about how she always strived to teach better, even after tiring days of work. “You know how primary school teachers also have to be the kids’ second mothers and fathers outside of purely teaching? That inspired me to give it a shot,“ he explains. 

Being a biology teacher would thus be a good choice to meld his interests and career. After all, if it is hard to change anything about how Singaporeans feel about the environment now, then he could perhaps inspire the next generation. With the conviction to make a career switch, he applied to the Ministry of Education when he was still working at the consultancy. And after training with MOE, he was eventually posted here to RJC and has enjoyed his job ever since.

“Teaching the students in real life is a very small part of the job,” Mr Prab goes on, dispelling the misconceptions that many of us students have.

Be it preparing lesson plans, doing administrative work, marking tutorials, or preparing test papers, there is more than meets the eye in the teaching profession. It is hence easy to lose track of one’s initial purpose among the pile of work, but Mr Prab finds ways to fulfil the mission that he sought to achieve when he first started: inspiring students about nature. In the time that he can interact with his classes, he often shares things that are outside of the syllabus. Currently, the topic of these discussions is infectious diseases, one especially relevant in today’s Covid-19 context. When students show understanding of and curiosity about what they are learning, it brings him a lot of satisfaction. 

This influence goes beyond the classroom into the outdoors. As the teacher-in-charge of Raffles Society of Biological Sciences, he frequently takes the students on field trips to learn about the local plants and animals—be it at MacRitchie Reservoir, Sungei Buloh, or other nature parks. In particular, he likes to impart his knowledge about birds, his favourite animals, whenever they are spotted on nature walks, sharing his enthusiasm for them. Educating students this way is part of his larger efforts to promote conservation locally. 

Getting a fuller picture

What students often know less about is what our teachers are passionate about outside the classroom: their eclectic variety of hobbies, including gardening and wine collecting, among others.

For Mr Prab, this passion beyond work would be photography. Picking it up a few years ago, he now does this semi-professionally. Given his packed schedule during the term, he indulges in photography mostly on this holiday travels.

“There was once when I went with my wife to Mount Fuji in Japan. We went at the break of dawn but unfortunately the weather wasn’t particularly great and there were some clouds covering the peak. Just as we were about to leave we saw a man fishing in the middle of the lake, sitting on his personal stilt-like contraptions peering through a scope that allowed him to see underwater. I took a picture with the mountain as the backdrop and submitted it to a travel photography competition organised by SONY.”  

As he was not expecting to win, he was undoubtedly thrilled to clinch the top prize of a sponsored trip to Yellowknife, northern Canada with a film crew to capture the aurora.

The -40°C days and nights did not faze him, although he could still feel the frost under five layers of clothing. Fortunately, despite his handphone and his computer falling prey to the cold, his camera did not malfunction. To him, it was really a dream come true, having gone to Iceland the previous year to chase the northern lights but having his view obscured by bad weather. 

What Mr Prab likes about photography is how it makes one slow down and observe the world around us, encouraging one to consider it through new perspectives. He offers a special tip to take intriguing shots: when what is in front of you is boring, turn around and you will see something you did not expect.

As a photographer in Singapore, where most pictures taken depict clichéd scenes of our landmarks, this creativity plays an even more important role in making your pictures stand out. “I remember the first time I received attention for my work was when I took an infrared-picture of Jewel when it first opened, such that the distorted colours made it seem like the trees were cherry blossoms,” he recounts about a special photograph that cemented his style.

Personally, he adopts a more modern aesthetic in the photography process, often editing the pictures with computer software to present the subject in a different light.

With a thriving community to share his passion with, Mr Prab is one of the many professionals who use photography as an avenue to relax in their downtime. He also co-organises photo-walks around different parts of Singapore, although his teaching schedule limits the number of tours in which he can participate. Nevertheless, he brings his camera everywhere he goes in wait of that serendipitous shot.

Given the difficulty of becoming a full-time photographer—especially finances-wise—Mr Prab plans on sticking to submitting his pictures to competitions and sharing his pictures on Instagram (@thepibz). For those interested, he uses a SONY mirrorless camera to shoot.

Focusing on what matters

Being an alumni of the school, Mr Prab has a special bond with his students, as he understands the complexities of student life in the current age. He frequently checks in with his classes to listen to their problems, knowing that anxiety and depression among other mental health issues are not rare among students this age.

Comparing his experiences as a student in the mid-2000s to the student culture now, he appreciates how there is not as much bullying as before. “When Friendster first came up, there was a lot of cyberbullying, [but now] people understand how to use social media in a more positive way. Teens and young adults as a whole are more empathetic, open and caring than before.”

On the other hand, he observes that students now seem more stressed studies-wise, with the tendency to set higher expectations for themselves. To help them get a sense of perspective, he often shares with his students that if he were currently in their shoes, his grades would be one of the lowest in class, barely passing even up till the Y6 Prelims.

“Even so, life turned out fine, so life will find its own way. What’s important in school is to explore your passions. No matter what career path you choose, if you are not truly interested in it, the job itself will find a way to make you quit,” he shares. His advice: when in school, and after you graduate, do what you love.

This concern about his students’ mental health inspires the future plans that he hopes to pursue. With an acute curiosity about how the mind works, both through the psychological and neuroscientific lenses, Mr Prab wishes to someday delve into educational psychology to implement change in the mental health support system in schools to help students on a larger scale. “But who knows,” he expounds, “you don’t really know what’s going to happen in the next couple of years.” 

For now, he is focusing on sharpening his teaching skills day by day, actively reminding himself that “there is always room for improvement”. Expecting his first child soon, he also hopes that he can learn how to be a good father. 

Whatever the future holds, Mr Prab remains grateful that teaching has provided him with a stable and meaningful job, especially in these tumultuous times. And every evening as he walks out of the gates despite the long day at work, the understanding that he has touched his students’ lives in one way or another gives him every reason to continue coming back.

By Snehal Sachde (21S07C) and Ng Yong Xiang (21S07C)

This was originally featured, in a shorter form, in our Teachers’ Day 2020 Special Edition. Here is the full story.

NAME: MS NICOLE MAGNO
DEPARTMENT: KNOWLEDGE SKILLS (GP)

Ms Nicole Magno is known for many things, but if you could only remember one thing from meeting her, it would be her sense of style. 

In her own words, she describes her wardrobe as an amalgamation of “fantabulous” and “rebellious”. It is obvious at first sight to see the effort she puts into her attire, and she describes the sense of satisfaction putting together an elaborate outfit gives her. This first impression of her is the first look into viewing her as someone who is just not what you might stereotypically think of as a GP teacher. Her expressive style, coupled with her unique experiences and outlook on life, often makes her the highlight of the day for her students, be it in the US, China, or in Singapore. 

Being brought up as a Filipino child in the US certainly gave Ms Magno a distinctive set of experiences which have influenced her ambitions and thought processes to this day. She grew up listening to her grandmother’s stories about Filipino mythology, but tried to be “colour-blind” about her race as a factor in her identity.  However, this didn’t stop her from feeling “isolated” in the US, being one of only six Asian students in her school. 

Ms Magno’s experiences with casual racism against her own community, as well as reading about the experiences of other minorities and marginalised communities in the US, gave her a new perspective. She learnt to use race as a lens to observe and analyse the disadvantages she and the people around her faced.

The lack of representation of her community in popular culture and media bothered her as a child; she recounts almost crying of happiness when she sees the Filipino community and culture being represented positively and “in such a cool way” in the media. 

Drawing from her roots

This lack of representation led to Ms Magno starting her own webcomic during the Circuit Breaker period. She combines her Filipino heritage using characters from Filipino mythology, her love for the arts with the comic genre, as well as her desire for increased representation of Filipino culture in an artistic venture definitely worth spending time reading and experiencing.  

Ms Magno’s journey of writing the comic started less than four months ago. She had very little professional training and practice with art, having been trained to teach English Literature in university. Over the Circuit Breaker period, she taught herself digital art between tutorials and marking (which, honestly, is much more than what any of us have been doing). She recalls playing and experimenting with the medium as well as with the comic format before finally publishing the first episode of her comic, Tikbalang Tales. 

The comic circles around a teacher, a tattooist and a Tikbalang, a creature from Filipino mythology, quite literally walking into a bar. It covers themes such as mental health and the importance of healthy relationships. She hopes to continue creating these comics, publish a total of five episodes by the end of the year, and continue making more webcomics in the future. 

The adventure of teaching

Speaking about her other “full-time job”, Ms Magno had initially pursued teaching as her grandparents (whom she affectionately called her “lolo” and “lola”) used to be teachers. After seeing their ex-students who had become nurses and engineers coming to their funerals when they passed, and the great lasting impact they had left on the children under their wing, she was inspired to follow in their footsteps.

“I was one of those kids who knew exactly what they wanted to do at a really young age [of eight].”

Ms Magno

Despite her expertise in teaching English Literature, Ms Magno had been deployed in the Knowledge Skills department, where she has since stayed throughout her tenure in RI, to teach General Paper (GP). “The skills to teach GP and Lit[erature] are almost the same,” she shared with us.

Having taught GP for the past six years or so, she finds herself enjoying GP more than Literature now—GP allows her to read more widely outside the world of fiction, gaining deeper insight into various social issues such as those surrounding race and gender through frequent, rigorous classroom discussions with her students.

However, unlike the differences in skills between teaching GP and English Literature, the differences between teaching in China and Singapore compared to in the US were definitely much more striking. She found it much harder to initiate classroom discussions in Singapore. Unlike our peers in the US who would “go to town” and voice their opinions during classroom discussions, we students in Singapore tend to be a little more reserved. Thus, she often feels the need to encourage and affirm local students so as to get them to share their perspectives with the rest of the class. Nonetheless, she wishes that there was also some form of social pressure to motivate students in the US to do their best like in Singapore.

She had first travelled abroad to teach in China and Singapore out of curiosity, hoping to explore and learn more about the cultures and systems of other countries outside the US. Life in China and Singapore was certainly different from life in the US.

Despite no longer feeling isolated due to her race, she also felt a lot more uncomfortable striking up a conversation with a random stranger as she would have back in New York. Nonetheless, Singapore provided her with a sense of security and safety she never really felt in the US, something which she feels that Singaporeans often take for granted.

“It’s really safe here,” she mentioned as she talked about how she felt that she could go out at 10p.m. and actually feel safe—something that seemed impossible back in New York.

Having lived and worked in Singapore for a little more than half a decade now, Ms Magno feels that she has put down roots in Singapore, finding friends that have become family over the years. “I’ve stayed in Singapore for six years, it must be for a reason, right?” she added.

As much as she would like to explore and live in other countries such as Japan and Finland and further expand her horizons, she enjoys teaching here in RI and hopes to stay for the near future. And, Ms Magno, so do we.

You can read Ms Magno’s webcomic Tikbalang Tales here.

By Shaun Loh (21A01A)

Feeling traumatised by the recent Promos or Prelims? Wondering how you fared in comparison with your peers? Fear not! At least you don’t need to know how your peers did if you choose not to ask.

Whether it is the zhuang yuan from the Song dynasty, or the trang nguyen from ancient Vietnam, there has always been an honorary title granted to them. In America, the Latin honors of magna and summa cum laude are awarded to the top percentage of graduates in universities. RI was no different: once upon a time, a Dean’s List existed, an esteemed record of the top 5% of students in each subject for any test or examination. This list would be placed on the notice board outside the Students Affairs Centre after every examination for students to see. 

Nonetheless, the List was abolished in 2018. Many perceived the abolishment of the record as an effort to reduce excessive competition and pressure amongst students. That same year, many new measures were also implemented by the Ministry of Education to shift emphasis from grades to a more broad-based education. For example, mid-year examinations were cancelled for Secondary 1 and 3 students. All examinations for Lower Primary students were removed from their curriculums. On a side note, apart from the abolishment of the Dean’s List, RI also removed the subject percentiles of students from their result slips. 

While such a change is obviously well-intentioned, it has been met with varied responses. 

“I’m glad it’s removed! Examination results are fundamentally markers of our learning, not ultimate benchmarks which we should be comparing ourselves to,” said Sarah Goldman (21A01A). Indeed, our examination performances should be perceived as parts of a learning process to improve ourselves, and not end products for us to celebrate in self-indulgence. 

In contrast, other students find the Dean’s List to be an apt tool to push them even further in their determination to study. “It is an extrinsic source of motivation after all, which stimulates hard work,” remarked a graduated Year 7, who wished to remain anonymous. She further explained, “The A Levels is the final goal. Things like the Dean’s List act as mini rewards!” 

Some also feel that the odd combination of excellence and envy resultant of competition is a healthy driving force. An ex-Rafflesian from the batch of 2016, who wanted only to be identified as Li, commented, “I wasn’t on the Dean’s List, but I think that cancelling the Dean’s List just to assuage some people’s dissatisfaction wasn’t necessary. Firstly, back in my day, it only mattered to some people, and the rest of us weren’t too hung up about it. Secondly, the list promotes a culture of excellence, and the culture of competition is only a subset of it!” 

“Outside of exam season, it’s not very talked about, so I don’t know why it had to be abolished. I felt that nothing much changed after it was removed, because nobody studies just to get into the List. I thought that we should just have it to reward those who did well,” another alumnus who had actually experienced the Dean’s List in Year 5 (2017) but not in Year 6 (2018) voiced out. Clearly, the List has always acted as an additional reward, and not a final end in mind. 

Other than the impacts of the Dean’s List on one’s perception of their JC study journey, it is important to acknowledge that the List has many other far-reaching implications. Take for example the terrifying prospect of college applications. Overseas universities, especially those in the UK and US, have very limited spots for international students. Many have a pre-existing quota set in place, such that even if all the Singaporeans applying to… let’s say, Harvard, are much more competent than the American applicants, not all of us will be preferentially accepted by the college. Essentially, we are competing against one another within Singapore. The Dean’s List is a sign of achievement that can add a glow to our academic transcripts, and offer us an advantage over our friends from other junior colleges applying for the same universities. Hence, pragmatically, the List is a tool for us to better our portfolios. 

Nevertheless, doesn’t this benefit only apply to the minority of students who can even enter the Dean’s List in the first place? Other Rafflesians beg to differ. “The ideal of getting to put another achievement on your transcript is a source of motivation for many. Even if you don’t get in, I’m sure you put in more effort. That’s still something to pat yourself on the back for!” Adrienne Chew (21A01A) said. Evidently, the Dean’s List doesn’t always need to be considered an end product, but it can be a milestone as part of a long process. 

Still, the welfare detriment of our school population is not to be casually ignored. Indubitably, the previous practice of pinning it onto the bulletin boards beside the Student Affairs Centre can cause undue stress and jealousy amongst peers. With reference to another Press article on this same issue way back from 2012, a Year 5 that year commented, “I felt physically nauseated when I looked at the Dean’s List, partly because of the people on it, and partly because I kind of wished I was on there.” Unfortunately, this sentiment still holds true even till now—it is difficult to shake off or suppress the bitterness of seeing your friend on the List, and you yourself not. All in all, the dichotomy of the “top 5%” and the remaining is delineated and stratified by the List. Inevitably, the record is yet another manifestation of the labels of “winners”, and… for lack of a better term, “losers”, assigned by our ruthless grade-chasing system. 

As for Gemma Mollison (21A01A), she felt that the Dean’s List is suitable in the context of junior college. “We JC students should have the maturity to cope with these things. It’s absolutely vital for primary school kids to have no stress and competition at all, but is it really necessary for us? Competition only gets tougher in adulthood. I think the List offers us a better sense of reality and what to expect in future.” 

It seems as if these diametrical views on the competition promoted by the Dean’s List are irreconcilable. However, one possible solution is to notify students privately if they are on the List, via email, students can receive the good news if they have penetrated the realm of the ninety-fifth percentile for any subject tests. That way, on one hand, students can have this commendation of their efforts while also having another tangible achievement to add to their portfolios. On the other hand, those who may have unfortunately missed the mark will accord the List less emphasis and visibility. Out of sight, out of mind, isn’t it? 

“That’s good! Most of us don’t even know about the Dean’s List when we enter Year 5. Doing that will commend those who do well but also not cause too much discontent,” Justin Chen (21A01C) commented. Indeed, by reducing the visibility of the List, the Dean’s List can be a side reward and not a sole concrete goal to work towards. 

Ultimately, it is tough to take away the hoo-ha of the Dean’s List without actually abolishing the List too. However, doing so would remove the sense of competition that can drive us towards greater improvement and success. I believe what we can all agree on is that, fundamentally, academic results should not be perceived as an end, but always as a means to more enrichment and eruditeness instead.  

by Matthew Ethan Ramli (21S03F) and Thet Hninn Zin (21A13A).

As the institution’s bicentennial nears, we look back as a school on our past two centuries of history. For many Rafflesians, both past and present, it is the traditions that we remember most. Be it the age-old ceremonies that continue to underpin our journeys or the illustrious histories of our co-curricular activities, these legacies are what shapes our ethos. Carrying the mandate to protect such a heritage for generations before and to come, is the Raffles Archives and Museum (RAM). Together with the Office of Alumni Relations, and led by Mr. Magendiran (Advisor Special Projects & Alumni Relations), the RAM will oversee some of the upcoming bicentennial celebrations in the next two and a half years.

Located in the Yusof-Ishak Block of the Year 1-4 campus, the fully-fledged museum seeks to preserve the histories of the school. Softball gloves from more than a few decades ago lie encased in pristine glass, the cuts and tatters telling of countless hours spent on the pitch; ’60s saxophones in different sizes retain their sheen even to this day, accompanied by photographs of the marching band that once was; a line-up of council blazers over the years display the evolution of student leadership, with each aberration in the crest design marking the succeeding generation of leaders. Many of us have seen the artefacts in the museum during open house tours or in passing as we peer along the corridor by the garden. We imagine a static space, opened only to welcome special guests, or perhaps to accommodate the occasional maintenance work. What we do not see, however, is the continuous efforts to preserve our past. 

Mrs Cheryl Yap is the main custodian of the school’s Archives and Museum. Being a member of the Raffles family for close to 34 years, first as a teacher at Raffles Girls’ School (RGS) and then at Raffles Institution (Y1-4), her heart has become well intertwined with the institution’s. Ten years ago, she oversaw the museum’s relocation, and five years later, on 25 July 2015, the RAM was opened, with Guest of Honour Professor Tommy Koh gracing the ceremony.

From then on, her determination to catalogue and display the workings of the school has not faltered in the slightest. Together with Ms Mary Wang, an administrative member of staff at the museum, and Mr Siu Kang Fook, an old boy who volunteers his efforts to its cause, Ms Yap strives for current and ex-Rafflesians alike to foster an intimate connection with the school’s history. “Although we were not students ourselves, being with the school for so long has made us have a strong connection to it,” she explains, “and we hope that we can facilitate the building of bonds between different generations of Rafflesians.”

This motivation inspired the conversion of the previous Heritage Centre—which had not been more than a modest gallery of artefacts—to the Archives and Museum we know today.

Through the RAM, past generations of students can reconnect with the time they spent in the school, reliving their best memories. 

Those who have had the experience of meeting former Rafflesians asking for directions to the museum as they jovially reminisce about their time in the previous campuses can attest to how RAM has almost become the unofficial alumni center in the school. Alumni through the years refer to the museum for organisational and informational support when embarking on projects to immortalise their memories in the school.  Just last year, Mr Siu Kang Fook from the class of 1965-68, together with 10 other alumni from the 1960s, published a pictorial book titled “Back to Raffles @ Bras Basah” documenting the history of RI from 1823 to 1972. The book was launched during the institution’s 196^th Founder’s Day on 27 July 2019, and the first copy was gifted to the Guest of Honour, Mr Ong Ye Kung, the then Minister of Education. 

This mandate to reconnect alumni to their days at the school stretches beyond international boundaries. Recently, an Australian family, seeking to trace their family history, sent a request to the school for any information it has on Mr. T. W. Stubbs, who they remember to be a former Raffles student. An edition of The Rafflesian Times from April 1927 shed first light on his role, covering his presidency and treasurership of the Old Rafflesian Association, an alumni group still enduring to this day. Further research through NewspaperSG, an online repository of Singapore and Malaya newspapers, revealed more information on his life in Singapore. Articles detailing everything from the workings of the association to Mr. Stubb’s passing were tirelessly sourced from various archival material before being received with gratitude by the family. With the connections of ex-Rafflesians through the centuries stretching around the world, the museum acts as an information hub, not only for alumni, but also for their relations rediscovering the stories of those linked to the school in one way or another. 

The groundbreaking work at RAM extends beyond acting as the bridge between the institution and its alumni. As the first school museum to conduct archival work in the nation, RAM is pioneering ways to effectively store the institution’s memories. Following the example of the National Archives, the team is working to digitise all the historical documents and compile them into a singular database, complete with accession numbers and a search feature for easy access. Given the sheer abundance of material, this is far from an easy task. With no context inherent in the source itself, RAM staff have to find ways to identify and describe specific events and the names of the people involved. This process even includes the documentation of school life in the present, where photographs taken here and there are actively catalogued in the archives. Due to this wealth of information that cannot be found anywhere else, Mrs Yap encourages students who are interested in conducting research about any aspect of the school or even the nation’s history to consult RAM for reference material. From the period when advertisements were appended in early student magazines, to Emeritus Minister Goh Chok Tong’s report cards and compiled essays on the school’s history, the extent of primary and secondary information available at RAM simply cannot be measured. She also mentions that due to the Personal Data Protection Act (PDPA) limiting the release of personal images online, the database cannot be uploaded online and anyone needing to collect information should make a physical visit or contact the museum by calling them or sending them an email. General information about the school and its traditions can be found on the RAM website. Additionally, any ideas or initiatives relating to the upcoming institution bicentennial can also be relayed to the above contact points.

The museum hopes that more students can develop an interest in learning about the school’s history and preserving our shared legacies for future generations. Although certain restrictions of movement are currently in place due to the COVID-19 pandemic, the museum will be returning to its usual practice of welcoming visitors from 8.30am-4.30pm, Monday to Friday as soon as measures ease. As Mrs Yap poignantly puts it, “[You] cannot have school spirit without understanding your history.” This noble enterprise of safeguarding the school’s identity should be one shared by all, for the hope of a better age.

Call RAM at 66726428 or email the museum at museum@ri.edu.sg

Their WordPress page can be found here.

By Shaun Loh (21A01A)

Rating: ★★★★☆

At first glance, Red Sea Spies by Raffi Berg sounds like yet another Bond wannabe plotline. A remote Sudanese coast in the ‘80s. A new luxury holiday resort catered to divers. Undercover spies disguising as hotel staff, but actually working for the Mossad—the Israeli secret service. 

Yet, the book, based on a true story, traces an unprecedented operation that helped evacuate thousands of Ethiopian Jews who had been languishing in refugee camps, giving them safe passage to Israel. Written in collaboration with operatives involved in the mission, endorsed as the definitive account and including an afterword from the then Mossad director, this is a gripping, never-before-heard tale of a top-secret operation. Excluded from the Jewish history books, Spies is a tale you won’t want to miss. 

Balancing the thrilling action of the plot with factual accounts of long, forgotten histories of the marginalized Ethiopian Jews, this book serves not only as an exhilarating piece of espionage non-fiction, but also an insightful historical critique of anti-Semitism and the Jewish state. In particular, the documenting of narratives of the Ethiopian Jews sheds light on their ambiguous origins. One such narrative is the classic romance story of the Jewish King Solomon and the Ethiopian Queen of Sheba. This tale originates from a 14th century Ethiopian chronicle known as the Kebra Nagast, which tells of a visit by the Queen of Ethiopia, otherwise known as Sheba, who was tricked by King Solomon into having sexual relations with him, from which she bore a son, Menelik. The story tells that years later, Menelik stole the Ark of the Covenant and moved to Aksum, where most of the Ethiopian Jews are found today. 

Additionally foregrounded with the common history of the Great Man in Israel, whether it be Prime Minister Golda Meir (first Israeli female PM!), Yitzhak Rabin, Menachem Begin or Ariel Sharon, Spies also reconciles these well-known Jewish leaders—and the well-known events that occurred during their tenures—with the covert happenings at the Red Sea Diving Resort, ultimately bestowing the operation much historical significance that goes beyond its entertainment value. 

Needless to say, this book is not a non-fiction snooze fest for those only interested in the dramatic mechanisms of an espionage set-up. Berg manages to illustrate the nitty-gritty of the day-to-day activities of the operation on the resort, teleporting the reader onto the Sudanese sand with the Mossad agents. He also describes with great lucidity the relationships between the individual Mossad spies and the Sudanese police, the odd recruitment process for new “hotel staff” (they must know how to dive!), and the (clichéd, but true) use of a female spy to assuage suspicion, reminiscent of the classic Bond girl. 

Unfortunately, this sheer amount of detail occasionally reduces the story to a mere chronological list of events, bogging down the pacing. This pushes the text into a more diegetic medium of narrative, taking away the potential dramatic value of such a stimulating chronicle. Nevertheless, Berg must still be credited for his efforts to spice things up. Real, coloured photographs were included to highlight the various features of the operation, such as the Mossad agents, the picturesque resort, dubious license plates of Sudanese vehicles in which the Israeli spies escaped. Berg’s insertion of these valuable images serves a fantastic dual purpose of historical documentation and visual spectacle.  

One particular close-up of a gorgeous Ethiopian Jewish woman intimately captures the intricacies of her frowning forehead, her rich brown skin, and her Star of David necklace, offering a pause on the plot and forcing the reader to identify—and most importantly—recognise, the existence of the figure central to the story: the Ethiopian Jew. 

All in all, Red Sea Spies is not a spy thrill, nor is it an exotic historical account for the history aficionados. Ultimately, it is fundamentally a narrative of rescue and emancipation of one of the most discriminated ethnic groups in history, discriminated not just by virtue of their nationality, but by virtue of their skin colour too. Considering the context of the George Floyd protests against racial injustice today and the seeming impossibility of a two-state solution for Israel and Palestine, the relevance of Red Sea Spies has not dwindled with time. In spite of its glossy cover, the book is most certainly not for casual fiction readers. Instead, it is the categorical, behind-the-scenes account of an unparalleled operation written for the spy fan, the history buff, or the fervent humanitarian. 

By Arielle Yeo (21S07B) and Matthew Ethan Ramli (21S03F) 

In the global fight against the COVID-19 pandemic, the vaccine is the elixir to life as we know it. Joining Singapore’s efforts to develop it are RJC alums, Dr. Jenny Low (‘92) and Dr. Shirin Kalimuddin (‘99). As clinician-scientists at the Singapore General Hospital (SGH), they are responsible for conducting the clinical trials for the COVID-19 vaccine. Co-developed by Duke-NUS and US-based company, Arcturus Therapeutics, the vaccine has to be tested in an adaptive phase 1/2 clinical trial to ensure both its safety and efficacy. 

Although trained medical professionals specialised in infectious diseases, both doctors have chosen to commit 70% of their full-time career to clinical research. And when it’s currently all hands on deck during the pandemic, their research focus has shifted to finding a cure and a preventative vaccine.

Having envisioned a future solely in clinical practice, their transition into the world of research was unexpected. Now, they work with funding from the National Medical Research Council to find ways around the infectious diseases that they then treat as clinicians. Dr. Low has worked on the Zika response in 2016 and in the international effort to combat yellow fever during the 2017-18 epidemic, alongside constant research efforts on the Dengue virus endemic in Singapore. On the other hand, Dr Kalimuddin set out with an interest in bacterial infections. She has worked on diseases such as the 2015 outbreak of raw fish related group B streptococcal (GBS) infections in Singapore. On top of their consultancy roles at the Department of Infectious Diseases at SGH, they are also professors at Duke-NUS Medical School’s Programme in Emerging Infectious Diseases.

As illustrated in the comic above, vaccines act like training exercises for the body: by using weakened or dead viruses, they provoke an immune response, prompting the body to send out ‘soldiers’ to combat the foreign pathogens. Should the patient be infected by the same virus again, the body would be able to quickly recognise the pathogens and send out the fighter cells within hours, successfully defeating the virus in a much shorter span of time. These pathogens are therefore prevented from destroying cells that serve critical body functions, which otherwise may result in catastrophic consequences such as major organ failure.

Vaccines in development from Oxford, Moderna and Duke NUS/Arcturus use a part of the SARS-CoV-2 virus’s genetic material called mRNA (messenger ribonucleic acid). These fragments are used by the cells template in producing a portion of the viral components to be put into the body’s immune memory. Unlike traditional vaccines, which need to be grown in a biological medium such as a chicken embryo, mRNA vaccines can be produced on a large scale. Although none have been approved for human use yet, given the urgency of the situation, the ability to mass produce efficiently and cheaply is integral to stopping community spread worldwide. Should traditional vaccines with longer gestation periods be used, it might take years before enough doses are manufactured to attain a sufficient level of immunity in the community.

Vaccines have to undergo stringent regulation before they can be distributed in order to ensure the people’s safety. In the 1950s, the Cutter polio vaccine, wrongly thought to be sufficiently attenuated, infected 40,000 children with polio and caused other side effects. Later in 1976, a vaccine against swine flu was found to increase the risk of individuals contracting Guillain-Barre syndrome, a neurological disorder. These disastrous incidents in the early history of vaccine development necessitated the setting-up of regulatory bodies to mandate rigorous practices that safeguard against unknown side effects. 

Now, vaccines must undergo three phases of human trials, each with increasing sample sizes and number of patient types. Working closely with the primary researchers at Duke-NUS, Dr. Low and Dr. Kalimuddin administer the vaccines to healthy volunteers. They also collect and analyse their blood samples to observe for any potential side effects and monitor the development of protective antibodies. 

The trials are often double-blinded to maintain objectivity, a common practice in any type of clinical trial. Neither researchers nor subjects are aware of who has been injected with the vaccine, and who has been injected with a dummy such as normal saline. Placebos are given to demonstrate that the detection of an immune response is indeed caused by the vaccine instead of an induced hormonal or neurological response from the belief that one has received the vaccine. Meanwhile, blinding on the researcher’s side seeks to eliminate confirmation bias. 

When asked about possible ethical problems involved in testing an unknown vaccine on humans, Dr. Kalimuddin conveyed that the doctors have to act on their own conscience, quoting the first principle in the Hippocratic Oath: “first, do no harm”. All clinical trials also have to be approved by an ethics committee made up of both doctors and laypeople before they can be allowed to proceed. 

In Singapore, the Health and Science Authority (HSA), an agency under the Ministry of Health, is the official regulator for all drugs and vaccines. They act as a third-party overseer to ensure that the vaccine is safe to be released into the general population. The third clinical phase often requires hundreds of thousands of individuals and at least several months of monitoring before the vaccine can be licensed. Every country has its own regulatory body, with companies aiming to be approved by as many countries as possible in order/so as to/to maximise their profits. At the time of writing, The Duke-NUS/Arcturus vaccine has just started its first phase of trials and recruitment of volunteers is ongoing. Phase 1 of the trial is anticipated to be complete by October 2020. However, refinements like testing for the best dose and frequency of doses to be administered will have to be tested in another larger trial, which is expected to start before the end of 2020.

The urgency to find a vaccine, or even a cure for COVID-19, has fueled global efforts on an incredibly large scale, with the search for a HIV treatment in the ‘80s being the closest precedent. As they own the proprietary rights to the vaccine, pharmaceutical companies are not obliged to produce or sell the vaccine in any particular country. Drs Low and Kalimuddin note that while vaccine development is usually only taken on by pharmaceutical companies, there has been an unparalleled rise in partnership between the private sector and academia. In the case of the Duke-NUS/Arcturus vaccine partnership, funding is provided by both Arcturus Therapeutics and the Singapore government while vaccine development is primarily conducted at the university. Such partnership greatly enhances the speed of vaccine development, and should the vaccine prove to be safe and effective against COVID-19, gives Singapore early access to the vaccine.

For Rafflesians thinking of joining the medical profession, “Keep an open mind” is the pair’s advice, suggesting that students should not be too fixated on a single specialisation and career course when entering medical school, noting the numerous twists and turns in the journey. Stamina is equally important: Dr Low remembers that while her friends pursuing law and economics were climbing the ranks early on, she spent long arduous years in medical training. But in the end everything is worth it, as Dr. Kalimuddin enthuses, as you get to do something new every day. Although more than two decades have passed since their days at RJC, they still carry fond memories of the school and attend yearly reunions with their batch. Dr. Kalimuddin explains how her Outdoor Adventure and Activities Club (ODAC) get-togethers have grown significantly in size to even include spouses and children. Meanwhile, Dr. Low still remembers her days competing nationally with her netball team. Although having attended RJC 6 years apart, both are now colleagues in vaccine research.

Before an effective COVID-19 vaccine becomes widely available, the COVID-19 ‘new normal’ will remain a part of our life for some time. With the gradual easing of measures to keep the economy afloat, Dr. Low and Dr. Kalimuddin predict small peaks of infection that are still manageable in our healthcare system’s capacity. Masks should still be worn in the foreseeable future and crowds avoided. While the health care professionals strive to develop a vaccine, we too should play our part in keeping others around us safe.