A Slice of Sky

Lord, help me see the bigger picture when
there are clothes waiting to be folded,
schoolbooks lying unmarked,
meals begging to be cooked,
little ones asking to be played with
and read to.

Help me remember Your call upon my life
when
all I see are books unread
poems unwritten
songs unsung
adventures untaken.

Stir me into awakenness-
so that amidst the clamor of
voices demanding proof of
my individuality- I might
show
You.

To look within and find
You here.

That is enough.

The discussion about the Standards movement in the United States is pretty err…standard now. As parent who does not live in the United States, I shouldn’t have to worry about that kind of an issue. But in this (cliche) global village, it doesn’t take too long for issues as such to circulate to our end of the world. Much like flu- avian or otherwise.

Actually, I’m not too worried about benchmarks. Perhaps because my kids are still too little and busy with rearranging furniture and stretching the limbs of Martell’s Barbie dollies into tunnels, arches and four-legged mutants. Perhaps, in this pre-Monsoon season ( where art thou, Monsun Barat Daya?) , the heat clouds my vision and far-sightedness. Most likely it’s both.

The questions that beg to be asked really, I think, are:
1. How can my homeschool meet the standards/ benchmarks set by the MOE without compromising my convictions e.g. preserving time for play, encouraging intiative in directing own learning ?
2. How can I ignore this benchmark machinery without jeapordizing the future of my children i.e. higher education, making sure that their education is on par with others (irony there) ?

In short, how can I make the benchmark system/ apparatus work for me and my family instead of against us?

I think going into long debates about the validity of benchmarks are rather futile as unfortunately (or not) they are here to stay. However, this doesn’t mean that there should be no voices of dissent. Surely, dissenters can help to constrain the extent to which benchmarks count for a student’s education ?

I did say this would be a short post. Oh well.

There has been some discussion about culture and history in the homeschool newsgroup that I subscribe to. It was sparked off a comment made by a professor in an article in the newspaper. The professor claimed the following: “”It is my gentle reminder that parents need to expose
their children to the Malaysian culture, and the different races in Malaysia.
With modules from abroad, there are no elements of our local culture so children
miss out on learning about their country and its history.”"

Responses from homeschoolers have been more or less the same, except for one or two deviant reactions. The consensus seems to be that culture is all around us and therefore one cannot help but take it in, like air or water.In addition, there are calls also to expose our children to culture, embodied in museum visits, watching cultural performances and exhibitions. One or two talked of their participation in community projects.

Well and good. Yet , there seems to be something missing from the plethora of opinions. The first has to do with the definition of culture itself. What is culture? Is it something that’s all around us? And if it is, where are we ‘located’- in terms of place and identity? If you live in an upper-middle class neighbourhood and interact predominantly with English-speaking, Chinese Christians in a church setting- the question then is to what extent this is representative of local or Malaysian culture.

The next question that begs to be asked is – what is it that constitutes Malaysia culture? What does it mean to be Malaysian?Shouldn’t we be talking about Malaysian cultures instead?

I for one, would like to draw the distinction between cultural appreciation -the museum visits, the cultural performances, the whole works- and active participation in society. In the former, you are the spectator, even when you try your hand at batik painting or Chinese calligraphy. On the other hand, active participation in society places you -the parent, the citizen, the person- in the ring. You choose to assert your responsibility to affect the society that you live in. For some, that might take the form of socio-political activism, voluntary community work or participation in community events. For others, it might take on something on a ‘minor’ scale- asking your lonely neighbour for ‘teh tarik’ or ‘dim sum’, doing storytelling for a playgroup, looking after your Malay or Indian neighbour’s house for the weekend.

At the heart of the concerns about culture and history is the question of apathy. I for one don’t take too kindly towards those who get all fired up over a human rights march but who, for most of the week can’t be bothered with the needy person next to him/ her. It just doesn’t add up.

So , how does one learn about one’s country? By participating in community. Be a good neighbour. Look out for others, whether you’re in the park, in church or in the mall. For goodness’ sake, don’t live in a Christian bubble that encases church programs, church people and leaves everything and everyone else out. Listen well. Learn the local languages.Read the official textbooks.Then put that aside and talk to people- grandparents, ah cheks and ah chims. Find out about the rich oral history that our ancestors passed on from one generation to another. Find out about how other peoples here conceived of history. Be respectful. Be kind.

So, in one sense you cannot isolate yourself from culture because you are part of society. However, you can become disengaged from the culture around you simply because you choose to be a spectator instead of a participant who can affect change, no matter how small. I for one, have decided for my family which posture we are taking. We’re walking with the full force of the wind beating against our faces and the rain sailing upon our backs.

I must admit, I began facebooking with more than a thwack of snobbery. Frivolous pursuits. Frittering away precious time with inconsequential minutae like “Hey, this is what I had for dinner ” (picture of lobsters slapped in sauce on table) or “Went to the grocery store this morning” (no pic of exciting store) or “Can’t wait to watch BGT! ” ( youtube video of some one yelling his spleen out). I made up my mind not to do anything more than get the contacts of some old friends and be out of there in no time.

But I stayed. And posted similar insignificant messages. And reconnected with old friends. In short, I’m becoming a facebook groupie but only in the sense that I’m beginning to understand more about human communication; and why small talk -often cursed as low-status “women’s talk” – has so much value in the fostering of human relationships.

And of course, I get to see some really wonderful pictures taken by talented old friends!

“One short sleep past, we wake eternally,/And death shall be no more; Death, thou shalt die.”

(Donne)