Alternative measures needed to curb motorcycle fatalities.

Mon, 8 Nov 2010
2 min read
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Dear Madam/Sir,

I REFER to Mr Peter Heng’s letter (“Act tough to curb motorcycle fatalities”, Nov 3).

I acknowledge that speeding motorcyclists and reckless riders have contributed to the high fatality rate for motorcyclists on Singapore roads.

As with any issue, however, it takes two hands to clap.

Dangerous driving is also a major factor in the deaths of motorcyclists on the road.

I have been a rider for six years and have both seen and experienced two main instances of dangerous driving that have resulted in accidents:

  • Intimidation, where lorries and buses tailgate riders unnecessarily e.g. when riders are already in the leftmost lane, and
  • Callousness, where cars cut into lanes of riders at exceedingly fast speeds and at angles which are too close for comfort.

Unfortunately, motorcyclists have no means of redress or protection from these actions.

Mr Heng’s suggestions might also exacerbate the current situation, as motorcyclists will then be deprived of a degree of speed to escape from their tormentors.

To address the root causes of the problem, I would like to propose the following measures instead:

  • Courtesy campaigns by the Traffic Police to remind road-users to share the road in a friendly and respectful manner,
  • Motorcycle lanes, if the Land Transport Authority will consider this, to protect riders from drivers,
  • A hotline for motorcyclists to report dangerous drivers, where the Traffic Police can then take action against deviant behaviour, and
  • Driving re-education classes conducted by the Traffic Police for errant road-users, who will have to watch videos of fatal road accidents to remind them of the sanctity of life.

I will be happy to partner the agencies I have mentioned in working together for a safer and death-free road experience for all.

Thank you.

Yours sincerely,
Laremy LEE (Mr)

(Published as “Don’t blame just (sic) motorcyclists” on 8 Nov 2010 in the Straits Times Forum Online.)

What’s the point of learning literature?

Sat, 21 Aug 2010
3 min read
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Picking your brain - or feeding it?

tldr: Study literature if you enjoy reading fiction texts. The benefits – growing intellectually, emotionally and having career options for the future.

—

Someone asked me this on Formspring and I thought the answer was worthy of a longer reply.

Just to clarify, I’m using literature and language here generically unless I state otherwise, because I think what I have to say is applicable to any language e.g. French and consequently, the literature of that language i.e. French.

  1. For the higher-order thinking skills of analysis and evaluation in a familiar setting.
    Here, I’m assuming that you like reading and you want to practice thinking critically as a means of personal development. If you don’t, this doesn’t apply to you.

    Now, you can derive these skills from studies in almost any discipline. The advantage of deriving these skills while doing literature is that you get to derive these skills in a domain you are comfortable with and enjoy i.e. fictional texts, drama and/or verse.

    Having said that, I must say that literature consists of a whole range of genres and periods. Not everyone is comfortable in learning higher-order skills in texts from ‘strange’ genres or older periods.

    For example, I only really started understanding what literature was about when I started doing contemporary texts in my last two years of university.

  2. For the humanity!
    All aspects of literature deal with the study of human beings – the ways human beings think, the ways we interact with other people, and our motivations for doing these things.

    I think this is very important in anyone’s education – it provides perspective and (hopefully) reduces chances for conflict between human beings.

    If your question is: But how does it benefit me?, then this is my answer: life is not about you.

    Life is learning about other people which in turn helps you – you learn to reflect on your actions, you learn how to communicate to reduce miscommunication, etc.

    And that helps you be a better person so that you can be a better person to other people.

    Once more, most humanities/social science courses offer this perspective, so choose literature as the vehicle to help your growth only if you like reading fiction texts.

  3. For the future, because that’s what we’re all working toward.
    Besides degrees or careers in education or the arts, the sensitivity to language and language use provides good training for degrees or careers in:

    • law,
    • the media,
    • public relations,
    • advertising and
    • marketing,

    to name a few industries that are not commonly associated with learning literature.

    Why?

    Success in these degrees/careers depend very heavily on communication skills, and one very important aspect of these skills – put simply – is knowing what word to use at a certain point in time and why you have to use that particular word at that point in time instead of another word.

    Again, you don’t have to do literature to gain these skills if you have a good command of the language, so it really boils down to personal preference.

Have a question for me? Head over to my Formspring page to post your query.

Everything is text.

Mon, 10 May 2010
2 min read
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Everything is text.

So I’m filing medical certificates and letters from parents, and I come across a document which a student passed to me some time back as proof of her/his absence from school.

This document is an important one; it marks a point in the life of someone the student knew.

I hold the document up to the light, to differentiate between fine print and photocopied smudges.

I read the document, and then I read the document again.

I do some calculations, then it hits me: said student’s life story is contained within the digits that have been inked on the document.

I wonder what the limits of professionalism will allow me to ask said student.

I remember that it is not within the limits of the job to wonder.

The document returns home, slipping into its plastic folder like a late night out at the clubs.

The folder, like its compatriots, is crinkled. Each bears its owner’s name, scribbled with a marker on a white sticker, pasted on the top right-hand corner of each clear sheet.

I carry on sorting the stack of papers that sit on my desk, sheaf after sheaf a demonstration of  presence, of absence, slotted into its assigned vault.

The bell is going to go in a few minutes. There is marking to be done when I go home from work. There will be papers looking for lodging tomorrow.