Protections still needed

A New York Times editorial brings to light some surprising facts. Some basic protections for gays and lesbians are still lacking from American federal law.

Gay men and lesbians still largely stand outside the [civil rights] division’s protection. If a hate crime law covering them is passed soon, as appears likely, the division should use it aggressively. Mr. Holder should also press Congress to pass the first federal law against job discrimination based on sexual orientation.

If you'd asked me to bet, all my money would have said that these federal laws were already in place.

Need I say more...

Took this photo from a car while on Bukit Batok West Ave 5. In case you can't make it out, the sign on the back of the truck reads, "Safety First." Whose safety?

Unlikely writer

A very interesting guy and enjoyable blog here. So, Billy, you want to be a scientist?

Unlikely advocate

This article from the New York Times describes a surprising advocate for same-sex marriage.

I had written about this, too

Interesting that another Singaporean touch also involves the verb "to have". I have noticed that it is remarkably common for undergraduates to use the past perfect tense in a context that requires the perfect tense instead. Both tenses use the auxiliary verb "to have", but the meaning conveyed by one vs. the other is quite distinct.

For example, say a student has just left an assignment in my pigeon hole and wishes to notify me of this fact. More often than not, they will express themselves by saying, "I had left my report in your pigeon hole." What they should have written is, "I have left...". But from what I can tell, for many Singaporean undergrads, the perfect tense (I have left; I have washed; I have written) just doesn't exist.

By the way, I like English grammar. Consequence of getting old, I guess. But I'm no whiz at the nomenclature. I can hear that something is wrong when someone uses the past perfect when they should be using the perfect. But to identify each of these tenses by name? I had to look them up.

I've to write about this

Every now and then I'm reminded of a word-use or phrase that I only stumble upon in Singapore. In the last hour, I've twice come across the use of the contraction "I've" used in a way I haven't seen anywhere else but here or in old English. For example, "The list offers both comfort and security but at perhaps 1/3 or even 1/2 the price I’ve to pay in S’pore."

Certainly in North America, and I'm pretty sure most anywhere in the Commonwealth, this sentence would have been written, "...I have to pay in Singapore." In other words, when "I have to" is being used in the sense of "I must", it is always written out in full. Except in Singapore.

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Well, a quick Google of "I've to" retrieves early hits in Africa and India. I wonder if this represents the independent misappropriation of the contraction in each country, or whether it's a carry over from colonial-era English.

Fitting In

This one appeared in the Sunday Straits Times on July 7th, 2009, and was my last column for the Ex-Pat Files. Just too many other demands between parenting, professoring, and husbanding. It would be nice to come back to it some time, if ST will have me.

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I moved to Singapore in the last days of July, 2006. Nothing prepares you for living in a place except living there. And you only get to know people by working with them and, at least in the case of a professor, teaching them.

It’s been three years now. If you’ve read any of my previous columns, you’ll know that I have enjoyed much about life in Singapore. I know I complain, but that’s somewhat tongue in cheek. (Why let the facts spoil a good grouse?)

My enjoyment of Singapore comes in no small measure from a sense, however tenuous and fragile, that I have made a home here. I’m not fooling myself. No Singaporean will ever see me as “one of theirs”, regardless of citizenship. But there are areas in which I have made connections that are important to me.

I suppose most of us like to fit in. Some do this by imposing their wishes, standards and behaviours on those around them. They don’t fit in so much as force others to fit them. That’s something I was never good at, though life would be easier if I could. Instead, I naturally try to accommodate.

This motivation to accommodate is assisted -- and I would guess this is true for many ang moh. –by a feeling, close to guilt, that I must make amends. On one hand, I must atone for the injustices wrought by the white colonial imperialists who are my forbearers.

On the other, I must counter the perception that the boorish hoards of over-paid ang moh enjoy The Good Life on the backs of hard-working Singaporeans. I’ll leave it to you to decide how much of these feelings is justified and how much should be treated by a qualified professional.

I have already written about how the birth of my daughter here in Singapore has given me a personnel stake in this country. My work has also provided another couple of opportunities for true engagement.

One such opportunity involves the people in my lab, a team of technicians, post-doctoral fellows, graduate students and undergrads. They come from Singapore, China, India and Malaysia, and together make it a pleasure to come to work each day. Although they may see me as “boss”, they are the ones who have given me the gift of acceptance.

Another area is in my teaching of this country’s children (and, no less important, those from abroad). Of course, university students are young adults, and most of the Singaporean guys in my courses will have done two years of National Service, meaning they have seen more of adult life than I have. But each gal and guy is also somebody’s child.

Like mothers and fathers everywhere, Singaporean parents want the best for their children, and that includes the best education. So whether a student has freely chosen to come to NTU or has felt the heavy hand of parental authority pushing them there, I have been given a trust. That trust is one motivation to try to teach well.

The other motivation is pure terror. If you think I want to suffer the derision of a theatre full of pretty young women and cool guys, you don’t know me very well. Maybe that’s why I try to inject humour into my lectures. Better to have the students laughing at something on the projection screen rather than at me.

But the humour really does serve a purpose. Any teacher faces – or should face -- the problem of keeping their students focused on what is being taught over a grinding two-hour lecture. Very few students can do it without some help. I certainly couldn’t when I was an undergrad.

That’s what the humour provides – a bit more oxygen to the brain at the right moment so that the student is actually awake when you deliver the important stuff. The real trick is to make the humour reinforce what is being taught. When I can make that happen, it’s quite a rush.

The students have responded with great generosity and real appreciation. They have allowed me, a foreigner, to tickle their collective funny bone and, more importantly, allowed themselves to partake in my enthusiasm for science. That doesn’t make me a local, but it sure helps.

And just in case you think I’m a softy: No talking in class!