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Wednesday, 22 March 2017

"How many pull ups can you do?"


"How many pull ups can you do?" This ranks as one of the most common questions that I receive in the military. While it may sound like an innocent question, there are many hidden assumptions behind it - correct me if I'm wrong. You can only earn the respect of men if you can do pull ups. You have no moral high ground to command men if you can't even do pull ups. You can't defend the country effectively if you are not strong. The list goes on.

To prove my point, I would like to share something that I found two years ago, which I've kept mum about.

I'm not sure how many of you remember my blog post, I'm not pro-PAP, I'm pro-Singapore. It was a short write-up that I posted on our country's 2015 National Day and it received an overwhelming response from the online community. While I received many compliments, I also received a good deal of...how should I say it? crap. Among these crap was this forum thread on hardwarezone.com, which my batch mate alerted me about. 

Although its content is no longer there, I managed to get a screenshot of the title. To break it down for you, I did some googling and found out that "gpgt" is a lingo that means "got picture got talk". "Military Expert 4" is my rank-to-be when I return from my studies and "keyima" is the mandarin pinyin for "can or not". In this context, I suppose it means "can she make it?" In plain English, I guess they are trying to find out if I can make it in the military, based on their judgement of...a picture of me. 

Of course, the conclusion wasn't exactly promising since "she looks like she's from the NCC." (The National Cadet Corps, for students who are still schooling.) Well, I can't blame them since I look so damn tiny in my oversized smart 4. Just look!


And to be fair to them, it wasn't JUST based on my picture. They were rather inquisitive, I have to say. "How old is she?", "How many pull ups can she do?", "What business does her father do?". (Although I still can't understand how these questions have anything to do with my capacity to serve in the military.)

OK, I think I've more than sufficiently proved the point that "how many pull ups can you do?" is not an innocent question. At the back of the questioner's mine, it is a measure of how much respect the respondent deserves as a woman in the military.

With more and more women in the military the past few years, I felt compelled to write this. Most people that I've met in the military would deny that they are prejudiced against female soldiers. But honestly, based on my personal encounters, I can confidently say that the military is freaking sexist. 

Men and women have different standards to reach in the physical fitness test. Before it was reformed, a male soldier below 25 years old had to complete the 2.4km run under 9min 30sec. For a female soldier, it was under 12min 45sec. I completely understand this (although I hope it was stricter), and I accept that most women are naturally less physically inclined than men. But what I couldn't understand was the reaction of some, not all, of my male counterparts when they heard about it. "What?! 12.45?! I can run 2.4 on my hands in that timing." OK BITCH, SHOW ME. 

During my training days, I remember being sent to a female officer for "counselling" because of my attitude problem. (The same one that women MPs have when they offend their male counterparts in Parliament - yup, that problem.) I remember, clearly, her wise words. "As a female in the military, your every single action warrants twice the amount of attention – regardless of whether it’s good or bad. When you do well, your colleagues are going to show you twice the respect. When you do badly, you will receive twice the contempt. It’s up to you how you react to such situations. Make use of them as opportunities to prove your worth." In other words, "you need to fix that attitude of yours, woman."

And I did. Hah - thought I was gonna say something inspirational like "don't let anyone define your worth" or "it's not about excelling within the system but rising above it"? Nah, I still need my pay and promotion. No matter what I say, the military is still going to be a safe space for egotistical male officers who can't get enough assurance at home that they have to use their rank to demand respect. (okay, i am pushing it. really. this is just for comedic effect.) But the point is, the military is sexist. Suck it up - you chose this life.

So, finally, to answer the main question, I couldn't do any pull ups back then but now I do eight. (!!!) Sorry it took two years to answer. Now, can I get my pay?

(I wonder which offended person is gonna ask me to watch my words. Come, show yourself.)

Monday, 20 March 2017

Am I a psychopath? Or am I just human?


-This narrative, as with all other narratives that I have written, is based on both actual experiences and events that I've conjured-

I rest my fingers on my keyboard, watching the text cursor blink, and blink, and blink. This is the third time in the week that I've tried (and failed) to translate my thoughts and emotions into words. It used to be so easy. Happy thoughts, sad thoughts. Sometimes about love, sometimes about that deep burning hatred for humanity. But these days, it's just a mixed bag of emotions that, really, can hardly be stringed into coherent sentences.

This morning, I watched a video of refugees dying while seeking asylum and I bawled my eyes out as though I was their sister, lover, or friend. In the afternoon, I got mad at my relentlessly argumentative neighbour that - if God had permitted - I would have tore her sorry throat into pieces.

While I work towards the fifteen thousandth word of my dissertation, I turn on my speakers and put my favourite playlist on shuffle to break the deafening silence. And then, I turn it off because the noise frustrates me and I start to lose concentration. I turn it back on again when the silence gets agonising. This happens on a daily basis.

As many have told me, my confidence is unparalleled and I have no lack of self-assurance. Even towards the most senior person in the room, I am unable to bite my tongue when I have a passionate retort. Yet when it comes to tutorial groups, I find it so bloody difficult to put my hand up and fight - against the sea of hands - to offer my two cents worth.

To me, one of the most precious things in life is to spend time with the people I care about. Quality time ranks as my top love language, alongside acts of services; and nothing beats a good ol' catch up session with a friend that is dearly missed. As long as it's not more than two hours. (The average time that it takes for me to start feeling overwhelmed and in desperate need for a social timeout.)

Honestly, I don't know why I'm sharing these anecdotes. Or maybe I do. I'm puzzled, and yet I marvel, at how I'm capable of possessing such a wide - and intense - range of emotions, within such a short timespan. I love, and I hate. I smile, and I cry. I'm full of confidence, and self-doubt. I want to be left alone, but I want to see you, you and you.

Am I a psychopath? Or am I just human?

Sunday, 12 March 2017

The end? The end.


Armageddon.

The raging wind slams
ferociously
against the windowpanes.

Frozen rain pellets hit
the roof
of my bedroom –
relentlessly.

I wait
for the night to be
over.

I wait
for the rising sun
to usher this nightmare
away.

But it goes on
And on
And on.

I put on my beats.
Turn up the volume.
Shut the curtains
(of my eyes) 
for a moment
of reprieve.

Could this be
the end(?)

The End.

Saturday, 4 February 2017

Faith in humanity...seems like bs to me


Be innovative, make a difference, be anything but ordinary... These are phrases that I've been so accustomed to hear. I've always lived with the mantra that I have to stand out from the crowd, make an impact and, maybe, leave a legacy when my time on earth expires.

It was not too long ago that I realised that (almost) everyone has the same mantra. The truth is, hardly anyone wants to be the average Joe or plain Jane - even Joe and Jane hate to be called average! But the truth (also) is that not everyone will be Isaac Newton, Nelson Mandela or Steve Jobs. Why? If everyone stood out from the crowd, no one will stand out from the crowd. For Thomas Hobbes to leave such a lasting legacy, there has to exist mediocre, uninspiring political philosophy students like myself, who cannot conjure a ground-breaking theory such as the social contract theory.

I also came to realise that even if I were to become someone as prominent as Barack Obama, the legacy that I leave today could be obliterated tomorrow. Newton's third law states that for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. The election of Obama symbolised a breakthrough for race and politics in the United States. Yet, the election of Trump annulled any progress made of racial tolerance among Americans.

It seems that at the end of the day, we, homo sapiens, are preoccupied with nothing else but ourselves. Do we truly hope to change the world because we wish to make it a better place? Or is it just because we want to be remembered as someone extraordinary? Do we extend our helping hand to someone in need because we genuinely desire to meet that person's need? Or is it merely because our conscience tells us that it's the right thing to do? Even religion - seemingly the most selfless thing - is selfish in itself. I value my faith because it brings me peace and joy, it grounds me in reality, and it makes me true to myself.

No matter how hard I try, I can't force myself to do something I do not want to. Even if it seems like I'm doing something that I do not wish to do (be it mundane household chores or biting my tongue from making a cutting retort), it is ultimately something that, in the deep recesses of my heart, I know is good for me. It all boils down to me, myself and I.

I've come to accept this as human nature. And with human nature as the basis of our every action, there is no way that I can ever, truly truly truly, make a difference.

I mean, yes, we now understand why we don't float around on earth like we do in space. Institutionalised racial discrimination has been abolished in South Africa. And we now have instant information access to the events that are happening across the globe. These are great! But what I'm saying is that we still cast votes based on our irrational fears and insecurities. We still emit greenhouse gases despite knowing that our descendants are gong to bear the brunt of it. We still purchase items from H&M, Nestle and Apple, despite hearing that they enlist child labour. My point is, it is impossible to change the world. The person that I am today is not that different from the first person on earth, and will not be that different from the last person standing. Faith in humanity seems like bs to me.

Because I've come to realise this, I will abandon my vain aspirations of radically making this world a better place. Instead, I will settle with living a simple and happy life, with the sweet company of my loved ones.

"Behold that which I have seen: it is good and comely for one to eat and to drink, and to enjoy the good of all his labour that he taketh under the sun all the days of his life, which God giveth him: for it is his portion." 
-Ecclesiastes 5:18

Wednesday, 25 January 2017

Quarter-life crisis?


23. I’m turning goddamn 23 this year. But you know what?

I am still perpetually filled with that teenage angst from 10 years ago.
There are times when I hate everyone around me – with no bloody reason!
Times when I just wanna shut the door, put Simple Plan on replay and turn up the volume till my eardrums are about to explode.
Times when I don’t give a shit about stringing my thoughts into perfect sentences. Or blogging about inspirational i-don’t-know-whats.
Days when I itch for the feeling of unrequited love – yes, I make myself depressed by listening to Jay Chou even though I’m in a perfectly functional relationship.
I still waste days weeks marathon-ing Korean dramas even though I had resolved to read a book, learn a language or go for a run instead.

And then, it hits me that I am no longer a self-entitled teenager, “justified” to do or say whatever the hell I want. (Because someone is gonna catch my back. Anyway.)

I realised that in a couple of years, I will become a wife, a mother, an officer, a... person with truckloads of responsibilities. Someone who is expected to catch the back of others. And it creates this deep-seated resentment for marriage, child-bearing and basically anything synonymous to growing up.

I don’t think I can do this. Is it me or can you relate?

-

But I will throw away these thoughts. I will replace my rock music for mellow instrumentals. I will wipe away that smirk and plaster on that befitting smile of maturity. I will tear into pieces my journal of absolute gibberish and instead, make a list of things to be grateful for. I will spend my free time reading up on politics instead of celebrity gossip. I will cultivate a distaste for netflix and savour the beauty of networking.

I will be a fake, impersonal and self-righteous adult. Like most other adults.
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