Baby Boomers & Gen Y

Someone shared an article in Huffington Post about how Gen Y views career and relationship. An extract reads as follow:

"A job used to be a long-term arrangement whereby you provided skills and your employer provided compensation for said skills - end of story. Today's workplace seems to be much more than just a marketplace. For millennials, 'work' has almost taken on a spiritual obligation - it has become a place where we are meant to find meaning and redeem not only ourselves but also the world around us."
 
"They want a meaningful job, but what if they don't want to give up their 'quality of life'? They want the freedom of running a business but how can they do it without the risk? They want to switch industries but can they do it without starting at the bottom all over again"

The article also describes what the millennials expect of a relationship which used to take almost a whole village to provide including; safety and desire, belonging but identity, continuity but mystery/awe, familiarity and novelty, predictability and surprise".

Now I wonder what is it that makes my generation, the baby boomers, so easily contented. When we started out on a career it was aptly described as selling our skill or service just to earn a salary to pay back our parents and help support the family. We waited patiently for the promotion that came with modest salary increment and warily registered our interest in another role in the company whilst careful not to be seen as trying to kick the incumbent out of the coveted job. We didn't really expect our job to make our lives fulfilling and resorted to hobbies and extra curricular activities to fill the gap. What a far cry from the Gen Ys who expect the job to be challenging yet provide work life balance, well paid yet meaningful to society , secure yet adventurous. (Incidentally the Gen Ys so described by the writer refers to many well educated professionals in London and NY and may not apply to many Singapore youths who  focus on earning big money above all else. Their expectations especially for quantum job advancement with work life balance is the same though). What I am trying to figure out is why we, the baby boomers, could wait whilst the Gen Ys want it almost immediately. Didn't we wait until mid-life crisis before taking a serious milestone review? Are we pathetic fools to have waited so long?

The same goes with our attitude towards relationship. How come we could tolerate the lack of surprises, romance, adventure and often lack of "identity" for many women? How did we live for years as sure as the sun rises in the east and sets in the west and where mystery comes only in the form of a deeply discounted Batam getaway booked at a Nata Travel fair?

I guess the biggest strength that baby boomer have is "patience" cultivated in our upbringing. Someone once describes patience as the ability to bear with unpleasantness. I guess we could because we have seen worse in early years or in our parents' lives and we are appreciative of safety and certainty. We don't want to rock the boat unnecessarily.

However we have also to bear in mind the boat may not carry us far. As sure as the sun rises in the east and sets in the west we could also surely be found lifeless in the boat of stagnant waters.

Snubbed

“I was the only person in the store. I had dressed myself up extra special.because I know things can get very snobby in these kinds of stores.”

“The employees first check out what clothes you are wearing. Therefore I chose a Donna Karan outfit and even washed my hair”

“The woman did not want to get down the bag which I wanted to look at. The effort was too much for her. She said to me that the bag was simply too expansive…..Instead she tossed me cheaper bags.”

“To be honest if I have known upfront what this damned bag cost, do you know what? This woman was right: I would not have bought the thing, far too expensive. Too expensive! $38,000. I would have fainted when I saw this price tag!"

The above was an extract from Oprah Winfrey's interview with a reporter after having related in her talk show about her encounter with racism in a Zurich boutique.

I am really really amazed that even America's richest woman faces the same experiences as we do, snubbed at ie. I find the above revelation extremely comical and funny especially the part about her washing her hair and donning some branded clothes before entering the store. To think that even the richest woman can be snubbed at gives comfort and do justice to the many many more times that we too are being snubbed at. It also makes us feel less embarrassed when we intentionally put on a seemingly wealthier look or pretending to be of higher class before going to certain places. I have all along suspected my lack of self esteem for not being brave enough to step into stores selling luxury brands, but am now assured that it is quite a common feeling.

But here again Oprah was referring to racism and went on to say that is what black and brown skinned people experience daily. The owner of the store has come out to defend his employee explaining it as a misunderstanding and definitely not racism. The incident has stirred up a barrage of comments in the web. Many have accused Oprah of being over sensitive and some suspect she was angry at not being recognised. One comment asked her to drop the "Don't you know who I am?" attitude whilst another said that Swiss unlike Americans do not gush over US celebrities that enter their shop.

So what is the moral of the story?
I think If you define yourself by how others define you, you will not feel rich even if you really are the richest..


(Incidentally I am amazed Oprah said she would have fainted if she knew the bag costs 38K. Tons of women spend more than 5K on a bag and their net worth is an infinite miniscule fraction of hers)

Writings on the Wall

So there used to be a good view from my bedroom window looking into the distance which is where Tampines and Pasir Ris are in the east. The minaret of a Mosque about 300 metres away is clearly visible and sometimes the scene can be quite mystical, like when the minaret remains clear and bright whilst surrounded by rain clouds or when the first ray of sunrise beams around it. When a low rise apartment was built next to the mosque 2 years ago what is left of the minaret is just its conical crown from my window.

My neighbour 3 doors away sold their house recently and it is now under reconstruction after being torn down. I watched the construction progress in horror as the steel bars extended upwards and outwards near to the front gate. It being a semi-detached house sharing a common wall with its lower neighbouring house and with the built in area pushed all the way to the front, I realise I would soon be staring at a huge tall piece of wall when I look out of my bedroom window. This morning I took a photo of the view before the last of the minaret disappears behind the solid walls.

I thought to myself, this very picture that I have taken, this very view will perhaps be lost forever. To restore this very picture many conditions have to be present. This new house has to be demolished, the other 3 neighbouring houses (2 with long driveways) must not be rebuilt to block the view, my own house has to remain as it is and I, the viewer must still be around; for how is a view to be recognised (even if restored) if the viewer is not there to see it.

Isn't  it the same experience with every moment in time?

Perhaps this blank wall can serve as a reminder for me when I wake up every morning. There are writings on the wall after all.

The little yellow bicycle

One difficulty I face when engaging sandplay therapy with my clients at the children's home is how to say "No" when the children ask to keep a certain little toy or figurine. One has to muster a firmness of heart to counteract the coy and wanting look in their eyes.

Sandplay therapy involves the display of a whole array of little toys, figurines and symbols which is very attractive to look at. The client selects items to be placed in the tray to create a sand picture or story. Most children have a moving tray ie. a running drama or story. In early trays the pictures represent their outer world ie. the present living conditions/story; whilst in later trays stories from their subconscious world may emerge (which they themselves can be oblivious of). The children often uncannily select the same symbols repeatedly for several sessions. It is therefore not uncommon for them to be attached to certain item and ask to keep them. We must also not forget that these children come from very deprived financial and social family background which was the reason they landed in the home in the first place.

My firm response has always been based on the need to share and to keep the collection intact for the benefit of all.  Despite that I had to solicit the help of the in house social worker once to retrieve an item from a very young client who was also duly reprimanded. Sometimes it is very hard on me to say no because it costs very little for me to replace the items and my heart goes out for them.

Yesterday a boy asked me "Will you be very angry if this bicycle is lost?" whilst toying with the miniature bicycle. I told him I won't be upset if it was lost but would be if someone takes it without asking. "That means you will be angry lah" he remarked. Later a girl asked to keep the piece of purplish pink chalk which she had used to colour every inch of a white sheet with vigour. Her presenting issue was selective mutism and she had started conversing with me and opening up. Shouldn't I reinforce with a small harmless gift? Again I had to be firm as I could see the consequence of  a crowd  streaming in to ask for things.

As I walked out of the Home's premise I noticed  a row of cars parked along the road including Merc, BMW and Lexus. Opposite the Children's Home is a Montessori Branch. I presume a Montessori session, the fees of which may be equivalent to the monthly wage of another person, is about to end. My mind reflected on the little yellow miniature bicycle, the piece of purplish pink chalk, my little clients and the children who will be streaming out of Montessori into the luxury cars.

Coming Home

Coming home after a 2 week holiday can make you feel a bit disoriented which isn't a bad thing. First of all having forgotten your routine you perform tasks on a need to basis. You go through the huge pile of mail sieving out those which call for immediate action and in the process even jostles you out of procrastination to finish unfinished jobs. When you read the outdated newspapers you are somehow forced to pick up important world/local news only.

When you go out to do your essential grocery shopping you seem to have a new wave of awareness. I guess it is the lingering observation effect, a hangover from your overseas trip, which I kind of enjoy. It is like seeing things anew, the places that you dwell and move around in day after day, the people that you now see of whom you didn't know existed in your neighbourhood, and the behaviour and attitude of yourself and your countrymen that you come to realise more acutely.

In London, we approached one tube station only to meet with cones and tapes barring the entrance and a sign that said train service from point A to B was not in service until further notice. The locals walked away in a hurry when they saw the signboard. A guard was nonchalantly helping tourists with alternative stations and modes of public transport. You are amazed when returning home your local newspapers reported every train service disruption that occurred the day before despite the availability of standby buses for passengers to continue their journey.

Back home you now also wonder with appreciation at how well air-conded our country is after having experienced the oppressing summer heat in the London trains as well as the absence of air cond or weak ventilation in many buildings. In short yes you appreciate how comfortable Singapore can be.

As the observing energy wanes, I revert back to my usual unthinking self after a few days. Perhaps it is the routine, perhaps it is the familiarity, perhaps it is knowing the government knows best and will take care of you, or perhaps it is just in the air. Whatever it is, this oblivious and unthinking habit has to be arrested instead of waiting for the next overseas trip.

Bernake's thoughts on meritocracy

"A meritocracy is a system in which the people who are the luckiest in their health and genetic endowment; luckiest in terms of family support, encouragement, and probably, income; luckiest in their educational and career opportunities; and luckiest in so many other ways difficult to enumerate—these are the folks who reap the largest rewards. The only way for even a putative meritocracy to hope to pass ethical muster, to be considered fair, is if those who are the luckiest in all of those respects also have the greatest responsibility to work hard, to contribute to the betterment of the world, and to share their luck with others."-Bernake

Bernake's repeated use of "luck" is interesting. He includes people who are lucky enough to be genetically endowed, saying they should also "share their luck with others". Very often we hear of people who want to pay back having gained from society's support in terms of education and opportunities. Few have declared that since they were 'lucky' enough to be born clever or talented they want to repay such good fortune. In fact many who are genetically endowed and living in a system that singles them out for special nurture may regard it their birthright to special privileges. Hence they may not see the injustice of inequality. So a scholar groomed to take a path charted by his country have no qualms that he enjoys a very comfortable income simply by virtue that he is born smarter than the masses. In fact he may even feel disgruntled when faced with obstacles and feels  that he is entitled to a perfect life.

Inequality in progress arising from differences in family background is looked upon as injustice. As a result support for the disadvantaged families is deemed necessary. Inequality in progress as a result of differences in inherent intelligence, talents or good looks however seems acceptable by the masses whereby the fortunately endowed individuals are deemed to be deserving of better lives. Such being the attitude of society it is no wonder that many such fortunate individuals hardly feel the need to pay back or "share their luck". Perhaps they feel that luck is not given by others but by God to the selected few, hence they don't owe anyone.

I think Bernake's opinion on meritocracy should be disseminated to our school children right from young. 

A Valuable Mix

In the children's home where I practise sandplay therapy I have amongst my clients a pair of siblings, a girl 11 and her younger brother 10 years old. They are from a single parent family who has no means to raise them. Both kids have behavioral problems whilst the girl was under school disciplinary action and suspended from school for a couple of weeks.

It is quite startling that the siblings have similarities in the way they engage in sandplay. It is common for children to play with the sand awhile before selecting symbols and little figures to place inside the tray. Some children move the sand briefly whilst others play with the sand a bit longer. Most are drawn by the great variety of little figures and miniatures being displayed and eager to build a sandstory. The common behaviour of this pair of siblings is the way they engage with the sand. Both spend a long long time moving the sand, pushing, sifting, sprinkling and repeatedly expressing how they love the sand. The girl once described the feel of the sand as "Like someone touching me" and declared that if she is rich she would use all her money to buy sand. Her brother also declared his great love for the sand and remarked "I want to bring the sand home". Another similarity is when they invited me to participate with them. The girl wanted me to engage the sand with her during her 4th sandplay session whilst her brother wanted me to build a sandtray picture with him during his second session. The girl invited me to place my hands in the tray, to feel the sand and she then sprinkled sand gently onto my hands. There seems to be some transference going on.

My encounter with the brother at the last session evoked a transference and cross transference, hence a co-transference could have taken place. It was a rather touching experience for me. The boy had created 2 sand stories. He then removed all the items, leveled the sand and declared "now it's your turn". I picked a little house and some trees and plants. He then took out a little green car from his pocket (which his mum gave him) and placed it next to the house. Very soon he began suggesting items that should be included and I was like, "Shall WE put this and that as well?" ie. it became our tray not mine.  He wanted to include an ambulance "If we need help," he said and included a little kerosene lamp "to light up when it is dark". It was like inviting me to help him build a safer world and I could only respond with love.

As Katherine Bradway, an influential sandplay therapist in San Francisco puts it "both may find hooks in the other on which to project, or hang the unused parts of themselves.....And both respond to these projections"

"The therapy relationship is a mix, a complex mix, a valuable mix"