Me, Myself and I

I learn about how others look at me, how my others behave, how others affect my behavior, etc.. But, what about me, for myself? Sometimes, it can be so frustrating to be under the watchful eye of others.

So, who am I in the social world today?

We can be so many people through titles for the various things we do. So, I am a student, a daughter, a friend, a lover, a dreamer, a drifter. And somewhere along the accolades, I am a Chinese and Singaporean.

Down the string of nouns will see the words liar, late-comer, aspiring pianist/fashionista/newscaster, etc..

What do these all mean to my existence? Do the words I've strewn here encapsulate my being? Or do they, have they held me captive to the things, personas I want not to be, but am, against my will?

What is it that makes me unique? Or special? Then again, even if I do find what makes me tick,it better be marketable and boosts my employability.

And so, if I were a dean's list student, a high-flying scholar, an all-rounded high-achiever, what does it mean? Does it mean I am given more respect as an individual, have more right to happiness? The worth of one is arbitrary, isn't it? If I believe in myself while others don't, am I a fool or a fighter?

I am many selves charting their courses; someday, it will all come to rest.

Then, I wonder, who determines us? Society or us?

Of Names and Labels

Stereotypes are individuals' beliefs that members of a group share particular attributes. Stereotypes qualify as one kind of schema - namely, schemas that represent human groups. They allow us to sort objects (even people) into categories, to make assumptions about those objects, about us, and thereby to impose meaning and predictability on our environment, our people.

We are all victims of branding. Unfortunately, it's society which labels us. Because some of us have something in common, we become part of a group; so were we ever a unique individual?

Also, if stereotypes genuinely defines a person, does it also affect the way one behaves? Are we really what we are or are we what others label us as?

Through the eye of a relief teacher, bring stereotyping into the classroom, it may be really as simple as, name-calling.

For weeks I hollered, "Boys..." to the class of forty before me. A mistake. Ten years on from being fourteen, I forgot how one simply did not want to be thought of as a kid at grand fourteen. "14" was a coming-of-age, a pivotal point of something vaguely important which years on from then, appears to be inconsequential and rather, silly.

But when I was fourteen, I thought that I was finally a full-fledged teenager and must thus, be taken seriously. I savoured the word that I was about to use on them and decided that boys or no boys, one had to bend to the pride of the male ego.

And so, derogatory "Boys..." became neutral "Guys...".

However, the metamorphosis of growth was to happen much later. I had to first reap the fruit of my language faux pas. It's probably a self-fulfiling prophecy so to say. Call a boy a boy and he becomes even more a boy, sans the cherubic halos, as if prompted by a perverse will.

As a necessary consequence perhaps, I had Rush Hour re-enacted in my class as a pint-sized teenage boy - I am capable of compromise, scrambles and leaps over successive tables like Jackie Chan. The fact that lesson was in progress was an intoxicating stimulant. During breaks, football and rugby fields were transported into the classroom, once, with a suede rubber ball standing in for a football. My homeroom was a real learning centre, rich in versatility what it lacked in lesson vitality. Arms flailing in the air, voice drowned out by the cacophony of conversations, I became a kindergarten teacher chaperoning an improvised playground.

Boys will be boys, or so they say. The word "Boys" was a synonym for monkeys I soon found out. Walls were scaled vertically or should I say, laterally as boys ran from a distance and moved up walls, parallel to the floor before gravity took over. Their marks of achievement - imprints on already marred walls. Forget The Sound of Music's refrain to "Climb Every Mountain", these boys climbed every wall.

Their wall climbing prowess aside, the boys were also masters at erecting walls. I turned into wall tactician of psychology. Was this a wall I would have to peer over, could peer over? Was this a facade of a barricade? Any fissues I could pry my way into? The imperviousness to my presence, my nods of recognition, my friendly overtures, were walls I invariably walked into. The message was clear: the view ahead is bright, annoyances stand aside.

The unpredictability of each day ensures that one discovers again and again, unexpectedly, that these boys are not just boys. Exasperation when out-shouting monsters, sadness when a student is expelled, disappointment when a student is unrepentant, yet conflict when student let drop a sudden nugget of wisdom. Then again, before you bathe them in holy light of approving awe, riotous laughter erupts and bawdy jokes pour forth.

These boys are boys and then, not quite.

"Adults always think that because we are young, we are incomplete; we do not know. They do not see that we are individuals, capable of loving and feeling just as deeply as they do.

Have I underestimated these guys or boys?

Afterall, I am only a student in teacher's garb, learning to teach and live, from my "Guys..." in shorts.

My Dreams, or Yours?

Socialization is "the process by which an infants are moulded into acceptable members of their society. For the first few years of life, the family is the most important source of socialization, especially parents which is termed parent socialization. They introduce us our society and teach us about it; how to behave appropriately, know and learn the language, possessing the requisite skills, and instilling the prevailing beliefs and attitudes.

And then, we have the various parental styles; non-restrictive, restrictive, warm, and cold. Different parenting styles influence children's values in adulthood. But, this is not really my focus here.

What actually puzzles me is, does parental socialization really lasts for the first few years of life? Do we learn what is acceptable of society or are we learning what is acceptable of our parents? To most of our parents, we'll be always their Peter Pan.

What is the difference between adult and kid when both are shackled by constraints and "well-meaning advice", when as a kid, one hears "listen to me, because you are young and you don't know", and as an adult, "listen to me because I've lived longer, and so, I know better"?

Where's the autonomy in adulthood to make your own decisions because it is your life to lead, your path to chart?

Perhaps, the real reason why parents, their friends, and relatives persist in compelling you to adhere to their advice is that when they were your age, they had no choice of their own to speak of. And so, when your turn comes round to ascend the stage, they want to make a chance to make choices, and so, they proceed to make THEIR choices, YOURS.

All of you might mean well, but what is good to you, really might not be good for me. Why educate a child and make him/her an indepedent being, when ulimately, you still want he/her to be a lackey to your dreams?

I am not a branch of your being, I am moulded by many other factors. Why impede my dreaming? If you do not understand me, it might be precisely because you are not me. If you want to make life decisions for me, maybe you should get to know me first and not judge me based on a template that has been carefully constructed out of parental dreams and illusions.

Parent socialization; so when does it really end?