#blm: 3 charged letters and words but what does it mean to you, the confused supporter, seated thousands of miles away?
It isn't alright when you here of a 'peeping tom' incident on campus and go, "Oh another one?". It isn't alright when a girl has to lay herself out bare in order to win some justice against said perpetrator. It isn't alright when she then has to defend herself in public against skepticism and harmful rhetoric. Yet with Monica Baey's story, we've had all that happen within a single breath.
As a society, we know that more can be done to protect our migrant workers. But forget your disappointment at the obvious discrimination against immigrants in some other country or timezone for a moment. Consider instead how a culture of convenient ignorance and aversion to stepping up also mean that blatant exploitation goes unquestioned right here at home.
"This is my country, this is my flag" With the new NDP song and the undoubted fanfare that is to follow, I find myself wondering what the verses ultimately entail. Is our identity one to be created or a notion fixed from the start?
In a world of artificial organs and aggressive intervention, how much is too much in our fight against ailment? How far is too far in our race against illness?
I would see her seated by the edge of the bed, seeing, looking, listless into the roads and train lines across. All she wanted was to travel as she once did but in her final years, when even a short walk proved to be an ordeal, how best do we allow our elderly to exit the stage with grace?
Accused of being shallow, self-centred and generally uncaring about the nation's political climate, will the youth of Singapore ever be able to garner support the way #Marchforourlives did? Are these accusations even valid?
"Remember to look up at the stars and not down at your feet. Try to make sense of what you see and wonder about what makes the universe exist."
In the wake of the late Stephen Hawking, why we should internalize his message to us on this tiny blip along the equator.
Where the obelisks of glass and steel soar into the sky, there had once been redbrick buildings barely five stories tall. As the original housing site for the first few residents of public housing, Duxton is the perfect setting for the 50th HDB Anniversary Project, the Pinnacle @ Duxton. Though nothing remains of the original … Continue reading History Doesn’t Belong to the Dead
“You, very good girl. Not crying. Good customer.” The slight curl of the syllables, the rolled ‘r’s of a different tongue, was followed by a vigorous plucking pulled between twisted thread that left a stinging throb beneath my skin. I was seated in one of the many beauty parlors dotting the Tanjong Pagar Plaza, watching … Continue reading Of Beauty Parlors and Brown Bananas