In Singapore, a loudly ‘pro-family’ society, why is work-life balance so elusive? And why are parents so uneasy? What accounts for this gap between the lived reality and ideal narrative of Singapore families?
Sociologist and bestselling author Teo You Yenn turns her eyes to the contours and rhythms of life inside families, exploring how ‘kiasu’ parents are made and investigating the ways in which inequality marks life in contemporary Singapore. Drawing from in-depth interviews with parents from all walks of life, Unease examines how social structures, individual strategies and common practices come to produce Singaporean ‘cultures’ of doing family.
An incisive exposé of how the logics of hierarchy, competition and unequal worth infect ordinary people’s lives, Unease asks what these cost parents, children and the values we hold as a society. And what possibilities are there for living differently?
TLDR whether you grew up here, got married here, or taught/studied in the public school system here, there is something for you. If you are a mother here, this is definitely for you. No intellectual thoughts from me when it's about lived experiences.
I started this book knowing that although this is about parenting in Singapore, my experience would not be reflected in here (for good reasons). I'm not in any mummy chat groups because I straight up do not have friends in my age group who are also parents because almost everybody wants to remain childfree. Even at work, I'm the only parent. And I get it. They spent two decades in the education system and finally made it out with independence and financial freedom. They want to finally enjoy life, and why would they inflict this on another innocent? They tell me they see iPad babies everywhere. I see those kids too. People with children the same age as mine are 5-10 years older than me and I see this every day at the preschool or playgrounds. They have different values and already have social support systems in place. Many of them are SAHMs who don't have to work so they spend all day together, like a flock. I am envious but I have no idea where to find other mum-friends if I missed the window to go for prenatal yoga classes. But maybe it's a blessing that I don't experience direct pressure about sending my toddler to a 'better' preschool or enrichment classes.
What I did not expect was to see my own parents' experiences reflected even though it has been two decades since. So little has changed. They migrated from Hong Kong, but my upbringing ended up being very typically Singaporean Chinese because they anxiously copied what other parents did. Other parents sent their kids for abacus classes, piano lessons, Chinese tuition, Kumon, so they did too. Other parents obsessed about getting 'A' grades for Maths and Science, so they did too. I don't think they knew what they were doing, having no experience with the local education system themselves, they just knew they could not let their children-of-immigrants 'fall behind' so they made sure they did what their friends advised. I'm not sure it worked. And I'm not sure any of us, both parents and children, were content and fulfilled at any point of the journey. I can see why so few people want to do this after surviving childhood.
And then every single year we have to hear about the falling birth rate. I don't know anyone who actually cares because they're too busy trying to not die at work. Why is it always about babies being born and not about how to make life as adults in this country less unbearable? It seems pointless to be pro-birth but not pro everything else that makes the raising of children easier. This place is not actually pro-toddler, pro-children, or pro-family. Preschool teachers work long hours and are paid peanuts. Preschool waitlists are crazy long. Remote work is being phased out. Formula milk is insanely expensive. The primary school balloting system is.. I don't even have the words for this. Do we want more babies born because we value children and see the task of raising them to be an immense privilege, to protect them as the most vulnerable members of society, or are they valuable insofar as they will eventually grow up to become workers generating shareholder value for CEOs, to become fodder for the machine? Children are not cattle but why do they feel like they are? Even in a zoo, when the animals don't reproduce, the first thing to do is to fix the environment, not incentivise the animals with food or toys. People just don't feel secure and no amount of gaslighting will work. They are stressed about feeding themselves, let alone a completely helpless being that will hinder their ability to earn a livelihood. Right now, the equation is Having Kids = Income/ Mental Health/ Freedom in Peril. Of course people are uneasy. This unease is a gut feeling that not all is right, and people are listening to this feeling. No one can blame them.
Supplementary reading: • 'Of Woman Born: Motherhood as Experience and Institution' by Adrienne Rich • 'Every School a Good School' by Ng Ziqin • 'Off Centre' and 'Those Who Can't, Teach' by Haresh Sharma • and of course, 'This Is What Inequality Looks Like' by Teo You Yenn
Truly remarkable. I thought this would be a book about parenting in Singapore. It was only at the ~60% mark that I realised that was a headfake. It becomes clear as the book progresses that this is a wholesale critique of Singaporean society — the way the state has set it up, combined with some broadly observed traits of capitalistic systems (all countries with capitalistic systems suffer from some work-life tension, also inequality), coupled with the consequences of social engineering decisions made decades ago. (Social engineering as a term has fallen out of fashion, but TYY reminds us that this was indeed done in Singapore in the 60s through the 80s.)
I will admit that while the societal critique is powerful and TYY accomplishes her goal of teaching us sociological analysis (as she says is one of her goals in her ST interview), if you are a parent, the most useful chapter might be chapter 4. (That’s the one on gender roles in parenting, and the deep costs it imposes on the mother).
TYY’s thesis is that inequality causes parenting to be an extremely fraught, highly unpleasant affair in Singapore. This is regardless of class (which is consistent with the government’s observation that monetary costs is not the prime mover for willingness to have more kids) and tied to education and gender roles in very complicated ways. It is an ambitious argument. If true, it goes some way to explain the broad decline in TFR in the developed world.
A layered book. I have some critiques but I’m still thinking them through. Anyway it doesn’t matter for this review; read the book.
A quick read because the language is so straightforward and void of the jargon one might expect academics to have. Similar to her first book, Teo You Yenn looks at another aspect of inequality - this time that of family and meritocracy - through the eyes of anecdotes and interviews. I liked how she made her arguments on specific topics like gendered work norms, policy choices, and this paragraph struck me as beautifully written but sobering:
"That is the metaphorical sound of people being the contradictions and tensions in everyday life: family should be a happy place but there is no time to enjoy it; work should be secondary but money from work is familial duty; children should "learn through play" and develop "holistically" but still need to take exams; kids are the highest priorities but some of their care must be outsourced; every school is a good school but some are better than others."
And the list goes on. We live in a highly contradictory society where people are constantly at odds with their common sense and policy.
I've always found Teo You Yenn's (TYY) writing to be approachable, heartfelt and straightforward. And this was no different.
I think the biggest strength of Unease lies in its ability to cohesively sew a narrative thread across the personal stories heard from other parents, experiences that echo similar conversations that we've had in our lives with friends and family members. In all of these chats about raising a family in Singapore, there is often a bubbling sense of discontentment, an internal monologue which whispers that something is not quite right about the way things are set up in our society.
Yet our response is often to interpret this unease as a sign of our ungratefulness. How dare we question a society that has world-leading test scores, high standards of living and social mobility? If we are stressed out as a parent, then we should simply worry less about our kids and not be so kiasu, right?
The faustian bargain of a national narrative that emphasizes individual choices as the defining meritocratic pillar of your self-worth is that while you can claim that your successes are the result of your own hard work, so are your failures. If you don't succeed within the confines of Singapore Inc., it is your fault for not having tried enough/made the ‘wrong’ choices/'escaped' to move overseas. And when the success/failure in question is your child, how can you not take their result in national examinations as an indictment of your ability as a parent?
Teo's analysis makes the (somewhat controversial but shouldn't be) claim that parents don't make choices about their children in a vacuum and their agentic capacity is greatly constrained by the competitive sorting of the Singapore education system, a race that starts from as young as 18 months old. Teo doesn’t absolve the choices of parents who fill their children’s timetable with tuition and enrichment classes in the educational arms-race, but suggests that we need examine the social structures and policies that led to this point. It's one thing to say "you have the agency to not to send your kid to tuition." It's another to actually do that, especially when your kid's future is at stake.
“Kiasu parents are not born, they are made”, says Teo, a premise that is sure to rankle some feathers. If parents of all social classes seem to come to the same conclusion that giving up their individual aspirations and signing their children up for tuition is the only real option for them to have a fighting chance, then perhaps its worth asking serious questions about why the governmental narrative of happy families is so cognitively dissonant from the actual lived experiences on the ground.
There’s also often a tendency by policy makers and those of a higher socio-economic status to dismiss individual stories and outframe it as exceptions to the norm. Our obsession with data driven and discrete evidentiary metrics also mean any kind of individual stories are rebutted with “ok but this is your story, where is your data?”
Additionally, parents may not have the right economic or political language and can only draw from their own lives when they explain frustrations with the system. As a result, their experiences are far too often ignored as “over complaining” and “taking our government for granted”. What Teo does here brilliantly is to scaffold these individual stories with plenty of data and give them the collective rigour that cannot simply be ignored as “kopitiam talk” or “parental gossip” but must be accepted as symptoms which indicate a larger systemic problem.
When so many individual stories across different backgrounds utilise the same type of language, express similar frustrations and lament their inability to freely dislodge from social mores about what parenting is like in Singapore, motherhood statements and glib platitudes about the joy of family just doesn’t cut it. As the government assembles the umpteenth taskforce to figure out how to increase our total fertility rate and encourage more families to bear children, Teo’s book could not be more timely. The only question is if the powers that be are prepared to hear the “hard truths” undergirding the parental experience in Singapore and take decisive action.
This is an important book that interrogates the widening gap between Singapore’s purported pronatalist stance and the harsh, practical realities of "doing" family. Much of the tension boils down to education. While politicians often nag parents to be less kiasu, TYY reminds us that culture is not innate but rather "forged under specific structural conditions." It is easy to say a parent can simply choose to be more "relaxed," yet there is a constant, agonising friction between the desire to give our children a happy childhood and the perceived duty to support them as they navigate the System. --- Ethical agency should not be thought of as merely an individual capacity or quality. It is something one truly has only when one's choices and values, when exercised, are also legible to others in the larger social context. That is, it is not good enough to say that people can do whatever they want, can go ahead and exercise their own rules even if against the grain ('no one is stopping you'; 'it's up to the individual'). True ethical agency is possible only when those choices, those values, and such lives have a dignified space to exist—acknowledged with respect, if not empathy—within a society.
I do not think that the author managed to draw surprising insights from her interviews with parents. To put it another way, even many laypeople on online forums might be able to draw the conclusions she did. I was reading this at the same time as Dan Goodley's Introduction to Disability Studies (3rd edition), and in just a few pages he paints an incisive critique of neoliberalism and what it means for education. Unfortunately, I felt that Unease could not really link the theory to her data. That is not to disparage what the author does, as she challenges readers to imagine alternatives to the unease Singaporeans face in the final pages. She has succeeded in getting Singaporeans to bring this to discussions, discussions we sorely need.
I originally chose not to write a review because as a Singaporean, being bombarded by embodied knowledge about the subject on a daily basis, I felt there was too much to think about and too many emotions to grapple with.
The author addresses Singaporeans directly in this book, so it might be just a little strange for a foreigner to read this.
The starting point for Unease is the gap between the official narrative that Singapore is a "pro-family" society and the reality that "the actual doing of family in Singapore today is not easy, smooth, consistently fulfilling or joyful". Parenthood is stressful in Singapore, "a constant rush from one task to another…parents feel unable to do well both at work and at home - there is a perpetual sense of being on alert and slightly off-kilter. The unease is triggered not just by the demands of here and now, but also by anxieties about the future. They worry about money and security, for themselves, their children, their aging parents." In Unease, Teo You Yenn unpacks the factors and forces that shape family life in Singapore, in ways that run counter to the official narrative and espoused values.
A huge source of stress for parents in Singapore is education and much of Unease circles around education. In most countries, the early years of a child's life are perhaps the most demanding and stressful as the child depends entirely on their parent - for food, for toileting, for entertainment and comfort. Going to school eases some of these demands. Yet, in Singapore, new demands around the child's education and school performance arise, demands that are often borne by mothers and, unlike caregiving, cannot be delegated to grandparents, domestic helpers or other caregivers. This is one level of unease - that constant tension and stress of ensuring one's kids are able to stay ahead, or at least keep up. Then there is the sense of vague discomfort and wondering - does parenting have to be this hard, such a chore, so exhausting?
It is not uncommon to hear criticisms of kiasu parents in Singapore, that they are the source of stress in the Singapore education system. No matter what reforms the Ministry of Education has rolled out - creating more pathways for students to grow and progress, blunting streaming, etc - competitive parents undermine these efforts by trying to secure new advantages under a revamped system. But Teo reminds us not to focus only on micro dynamics and factors, such as the mindsets and behaviours of individuals, but to also look at the meso layer of institutions and their practices, the macro layer of policies, regulations and laws, and global forces at play. By engaging at these different levels, we can "overcome our tendencies to see individual lives as driven purely by 'personal' acts and idiosyncratic choices….[while] people have agency and make choices…these are never in a social vacuum - the options people have are shaped by numerous social, economic, political forces beyond a given person."
Teo points out that "the demands and logics of the education system generate needs and tensions [that] intensify care labour and parental obligations", with the PSLE being seen as the start of a narrowing vertical funnel that has an outsize impact on a child's subsequent pathway in life. She argues school choice becomes a high stakes, high investment process for parents, given that that parents are the ones who can and must choose among all possible schools (vs being assigned, say, to the closest school) and given the significant differences between schools in terms of academic outcomes and the consequential nature of these outcome. Parental behaviour is influenced by "the structural-cultural forms disproportionately shaped by how the state organises education and its rewards." Parents in Singapore feel compelled to engage in kiasu behaviour because they see what is at stake in an unequal society. Fall off the mainstream path and your child will struggle to earn a decent living; "the parent in Singapore today has been steered, over the years and through multiple structural and cultural forces, into two options: be (some version of) kiasu or be a neglectful, irresponsible parent".
And while "schools replace parents' care labour in some ways and for some hours of the day, they also generate tasks and responsibilities for parents, compelling them - women especially - to rethink and reorganise their paid work."
I don't know how Teo's critique of the Singapore system, with the education system being a large part of it, will be received. But I think the stories Teo shares from her interviews with parents, the sentiments they expressed, will not be unfamiliar to readers who are parents. I was acutely conscious, reading this book after the children had gone to bed, that I had spent the evening - during the June holidays! - making sure that they were on track with their Student Learning Space submissions, reading their eZhishi assignments, doing their Chinese worksheets for enrichment class and what have you. And I had a newly acquired assessment book - recommended by the school teacher to help my son lock down the MCQ section of the exams - sitting on the table. Because I am a good parent who is an active participant in the school-parent partnership (who dutifully checks Parents Gateway, SLS and Class Dojo).
Teo asks the question, does parenting have to be this way in Singapore? Does it have to be so tiring, so uneasy? Can we not change the script? Yet, part of me wonders why it should be surprising that parenting in Singapore be viewed through the lens of sacrifice, constant struggle and effort. After all, our very national narrative is based on the notion of constant, relentless effort to remain exceptional (or perish).
Teo argues that there are bigger issues at stake here that require us to address this unease head on. She points out that "three sets of values matter to Singaporeans - meritocracy and mobility, familial connections, inclusive community. Our way of doing work and family contradicts the things we care about - we want people to be able to fulfil their dreams and potentials, but our systems orient towards constricted pathways; we value family ties, but the hectic and tense realities inside familial lives make living lovingly together difficult; we would like to be an inclusive society, but hierarchy and competition make clear to us that belonging is heavily conditional on credentials, employment and money". Teo warns that we risk developing these characteristics instead: - "independence without ethical agency" when we focus on taking care of our own family's problems and our children's needs, but fail to intentionally consider why we do what we do; - "conformism without solidarity" when we act uniformly, obeying rules and following procedures well but without a sense of mutual obligation to others in society, which is a "politics of thin solidarity and limited imagination"; and - "valorisation of success without deep respect for human worth" where we look at particular, individualised and narrowly defined success and not broader notions of human worth.
I preferred Teo's earlier book, This is What Inequality Looks Like. It was eye-opening and thought provoking, and I learned to see differently with each chapter that examined a different aspect of the low-income experience - their every day life in rental flats, how they juggle work and family commitments, parenting, etc. Unease moves at a different pace and along a different path; it circles the topic of parenthood, and in particular how mothers modify their approach to work and life and "fold down" once their children enter school, examining it from different angles, through the micro, meso and macro layers. It's still an excellent read, just quite different in style from TIWILL. 4 stars overall.
yet again with the preachy and moralistic tone. this book is one exaggeration after another.
the author is literally camping outside hdb tuition centres to interview waiting parents, and then she makes the conclusion that most parents are sending their kids for 'bang-for-buck' classes and claims that 'the whole system will collapse without tuition'. tyy, i have a suggestion, why don't you wait in a hospital and interview patients about their lifestyles to draw conclusions about the general population's health? or wait outside the tyy fan club meeting to conclude that all singaporeans share your views?
the craziest point was when she concluded that parents care so much about their kids' academics instead of their character, and parents only ask each other about their kids because they want to suss out the other kids' academic performance. her evidence: when she asked parents about their kids, they rarely offered expressions of joys, talents and strengths of their kids, instead, they talked about their kids' academic performance and schooling. ??? that's because you are a rando asking questions outside a tuition centre and parents are just sticking to safe facts??? where is the academic rigour??? you are entitled to your opinions, but don't masquerade this as research please.
in the last chapter about "virtues", "ethics", "equality", "common good" etc. etc. (with 'air-quotes'), she claimed that our current society judges parents and doesn't give them a dignified space to exist with their choices if they act based on their principles (i.e. parents are being forced by culture to send their kids for tuition, and we are out here SHAMING them implicitly if they don't). please. i recommend Richard Dawkins' "The Selfish Gene" for starters. sorry that life is a struggle for existence and people are trying their best for their kids in the most primal ways instead of taking the virtuous road. sociology is not a real science.
here's a quote i'll end with: "We rarely have the space to ask why: why is life organised to prioritise work, money, 'the economy'? Why do children need to be able to read before primary school? Why is Mathematics a main tool for differentiating and categorising students? Why are educational credentials a main determinant of salaries? Why do we attach unequal value to people based on credentials and/or wealth?"
stop asking leading questions and pretending they are profound. to answer the first four, because why not? because food, housing, transport, healthcare, power and much of human progress simply do not come from vibes, leisure or singing kumbaya under the tree. society is built on science, industry and labour. and to the last question, you are the one who is devaluing humans to money, not us. speak for yourself.
1 star for chapter 4 about gendered unease. -1000000 for the rest. not because i disagree with the points, but because this could have been a 500-word fb post. sad for the trees who had to have such banalities printed on their dead bodies.
Strangely enough about a book subtitled "life in Singapore families", my biggest critique of this book was that it did not feel specific enough to Singapore.
TYY's main argument in this book is that inequality is one of the main causes of the unease in Singapore families. Singapore families feel unease as their realities of family life clash with the ideals that are espoused by the state and in the popular imagination - family life is meant to be peaceful and fulfilling yet can feel stressful and oppressive, work is meant to be secondary, a means to an end to support the family yet often feels fundamental to a parent's role as a provider, family is meant to elevate and complete one as a person yet simultaneously demands the sacrifice of one's own personhood to function. Fundamentally, one of the big causes of this unease is the understanding that one has to raise children to be sorted into an extremely hierarchical and unequal world. These are all keenly observed insights that are quite frankly almost universal to the developed (and some developing) world. A quick glance at news and polls across any rich country will show these to be similar unease felt by parents all over.
TYY also delves into some of the Singapore-specific pressures which exacerbates these feelings of unease - the way the education system creates and reinforces sorting and hierarchy, the specific ways in which government policies reproduce gendered parental roles, and the ways different classes struggle in raising their children in response to inequality. The contradictions between these pressures and the official "pro-family" rhetoric of the Singapore state is concisely laid out - yet I felt that TYY could have delved much deeper into explaining why these policies exist in such specific configurations in Singapore. These, after all, are the Singapore-specific patterns of unease that the book is about. While discussed briefly and indirectly, an accounting of how Singapore's political economy and place in the world economy produces such policy configurations would in my opinion have strengthened this book's analysis of the unease present specifically in Singapore parents.
Nevertheless, this is a very well written and approachable book about what is becoming one of the largest global issues of the 21st century, and should be read by anyone interested in how our societies function. There are many footnotes explaining Singapore specific terminology like HDB and PSLE (we are a nation in love with acronyms) so non-Singaporeans will find this book easy to understand as well.
I picked up this book during my first trip to Singapore, where I spent four days wandering through its diverse neighborhoods - from the vibrant streets of Chinatown and Little India to the quiet charm of Tiong Bahru and Joo Chiat, even into the local HDBs and bustling hawker centers like Maxwell and Golden Mile. Walking through Kampong Glam, Tanglin, and Nassim, I began to sense the country’s pulse: a generally incredible quiet, a seamless efficiency, and a deep-rooted discipline. It felt profoundly safe, yet there was a quiet realization that nothing "out of the crowd" was ever supposed to happen. This predictability is both a blessing and a constraint. I bought Unease because I wanted to understand the internal reality behind this perfect order.
Teo You Yenn’s Unease is a courageous challenge to the efficiency-driven narrative of Singapore. As a Vietnamese reader, I felt a strong connection to her analysis of a society that prioritizes the "most efficient trajectory" at the cost of internal peace.
The book captures the silent FOMO and the rigid social orbits that define the transition from Third World to First. While the takeaways were largely what I anticipated, the book’s strength lies in its ability to give a name to the invisible anxieties of Singaporean residents, especially mothers. It is an essential read for anyone wanting to feel "seen" in an over-structured world and a hopeful first step toward systemic change.
"What is a good society, and how will we get there? These are genuine questions only if they are everybody's right and duty to ask and answer."
Definitely a more challenging read than TIWILL (at times it felt like a Sociology textbook / literature review), but a rewarding one. Instead of being prescriptive with approaches to policy that can foster greater inclusivity, TYY instead leaves us with questions to ponder (What is a good society? What values should we value?), which then shape the principles that underpin the lens we adopt when evaluating our education and political system. I appreciated the balance she struck between her drive to give voice to women / lower-income families as a sociologist, and the privilege she recognised she had as an academic.
While the book partly appeals to the public to be more inclusive towards others who do not conform to more conventional paths in SG, it is recognised that a large part of this change has to come from the system itself. Part of me does wonder if this book is enough to emphasise and push for this need for change, or if the struggles raised in the book will get swept under the rug as SG continues doing well on the surface. The growing online discourse on this book can only be the first step — we can only hope that it sends a signal that people do resonate with the narratives shared in her interviews, or at least, are interested in understanding or partaking in these conversations.
A great book is one that presents more questions than answers, that is transformative. This book is that. Don’t let the title deceive you, it isn’t all about family, but it is an introspective look into Singapore’s basic building block - families, to discuss their role in our society shaped by the micro, meso and macro lenses and to discover the little things that warp public perception vs reality.
The last chapter brings everything together, showing the sharp contrasts between policies, perceptions and everyday life and invites us to think of what we need to right the inequality “a feature in our society”.
The book provides some suggestions, some directly going against “what we have been told” but this phrase from the book keeps ringing in my head - “What’s the economy for, anyway, if not to help us realize our vision of a good society”. The competitiveness that has brought us up as a small nation has contributed to the aloofness where we are united in following because we are considerate to ourselves and not others.
Ultimately the book generates discussion, discussion that I will bring to my friends and close ones to say the “unsaid but known” and to drive further thoughts for the idea of our collective future society
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
- public sociology at its best takes everyday experience and links it to frameworks, connects the individual to the structural -echoes of the first book: unpacking the cover of pro-family, how it’s caught up w the state’s intrusions/interventions and uncovering the discourse — it’s about individuals within families and leads back to wage work… - the diagnosis is not new: the neoliberal, the k shaped economy - our interventions are thus woefully under equipped because we are still carving up the pig into another way: work hours, on and off ramps. i haven’t processed it but the way it’s set up means taking apart we find an entirely different puzzle and diagnosis…
(also i wrote book review on this for my big big boss and i think i managed to both convey the main points as well as make it seem not too critical, though who is checking? i don’t think the clearance chain has read the book yet)
i think it's wonderful that books like these can become bestsellers here :) singaporeans have known for a long time that parenting has become increasingly intense, and we know that our emphasis on academic credentials and how the education system is structured is a big part of the problem, but nonetheless it's still refreshing to see it all articulated so summarily here. it also made me reflect on the choices my parents had to make - selfishly i never questioned what it meant for my mum to have to give up on work to take care of us, and gosh it made me so sad when i asked and she said exactly what was in the book, that she had no choice and it was hard for her to not have her own money. there are so many things we take for granted and accept as the norm, and we don't always consider the costs behind them, even those that are paying those costs.
i think this research is timely and needed but it suffers from the lack of directed focus (as i felt was the case in her other book as well) in terms of a “statement”
in particular, i wondered what new insights this book brought to the table - because it felt like a lot of the points are already unsaid/said truths that most families are acquainted with. i still think this research is important, but i didn’t quite see the new angle that she was bringing to the conversation on family building and child care in singapore.
then again (and similar to TWILL), i must still give it this score because we need more of this kinda non-fiction writing, and even if it’s an outline of the contours of unease in singaporean families rather than a pointed investigation of a new angle, it’s still important to do!
A well written book, that gave me flashback to when I was reading similar books during my Sociology classes many moons ago.
YY argues her case persuasively. Any Singaporean parent knows what she is taking about: the gnawing sense of unease. What struck me is that it cut across class lines - even the rich are not spared.
Hearing what YY says, and what the latest population group is aiming to do - not just throw money at the problem but address the enabling issues of work and care - gives me a glimpse of hope. YY did raise important questions at the last chapter, and if policymakers consider seriously what she says, change could happen.
But the cynic in me also thinks that it is almost impossible to change. “If it is not broke, why fix it”. So unless there is a broad acknowledgement that there is a problem (even getting there is a problem!), the status quo is the safe bet.
Prof Teo writes incredibly: clear, easy to read, inspires reflection. This doesn't read like a sociological book at all because it's not dry or technical at all, but it'll leave you with the same effect of one - questioning what you believe to be norms and why.
Without spoiling it, all I have to say about this book is that it made me realise how Singaporean I truly am. Not that I ever thought I was super special, but I definitely have not followed the conventional path in any way whatsoever so I wouldn't have intuitively thought of myself as the quintessential Singaporean. I also closed this book with a deeper sense of appreciation for my mother.
I highly recommend this for all Singaporeans, or anybody who wants an insight into why Singaporeans are the way we are.
A book that encourages you to reflect upon family life in Singapore, and the pains and challenges that come with parenting. Would not go so far as to say it was "eye-opening" as most of the things she pointed out weren't entirely unknown ideas, but a good reminder of inequalities that exist in SG, even if you don't agree entirely with the author's suggestions and views.
Alot of concepts were quite repetitive (perhaps to emphasise a point, but I personally felt that sometimes I was reading the same thing over). While thought-provoking, it was also a little incomplete, some ideas that were touched on and then dropped.
“Describe. Explain, activate” - the activation of sociology. The imagination ! The looking beyond our immediate life, the not accepting of “it’s just like that lah”
“How we live is what we become”
A richer , expanded view of freedom in the sense of - Ethical agency - of doing what one believe to be good and right.
The fragmented social fabric laid bare the hollow nature of overt uniformity. We do the same things yet we don’t feel the sense of belonging.
Mobility - not just upward and downward but lateral too.
Gendered quagmire very much everywhere - mother’s mental load. Mother’s slashing pay cut. Dad’s nonchalance.
Unease permeates all families regardless of class in a country that prides itself on its meritocratic system.
It's a timely book written at a time when our TFR is at its all time low, raising pertinent questions on what it means to bring a child into the world. I don't think this is necessarily just an issue that Singapore faces, but there are system specific pressures that has created an environment where parents feel like they're in a pressure cooker when all they seek is the best life for their offspring.
i wonder what hamfisted bullshit the government will publish in response to this. a hard book to read personally because of how it cleanly illustrates the social mechanisms that shaped my childhood (for worse) and how it may shape the future -- if i somehow believe that bringing a child into the world is an act of kindness and not cruelty.
Many thoughts that will follow in a full book review on blog.
For now, just to say that the last chapter made me want to write a dystopian MG book on the true worth of various vocations, counter to whatever economic and cultural hierarchy they exist in today.
Eye opening. Was thinking as someone with no kids, would I even relate to this book but this is for every Singaporean who grew up within the system and how we can think critically about the “no choice” in our lives
everything i’ve felt in the undercurrent, and so much more [full review awaits while i sit with the book a little longer!] [i did find this book a tinge more technical than TIWILL]
a sobering read, but can’t help but feel that the code base of our society has been written with such complexity that no amount of pull requests can unwind the many issues discussed in the book