The year is 2016, yet the value of an Arts degree in Singapore remains iffy. A quick Google search of the term” Arts degree” garnered the following prompts. Oh dear. In a society that insists on practicality, the Arts and pursuing further education in a humanities subject has become more commonplace. However, the “whimsical” Arts education is not quite yet viewed as favourably as a professional degree or one in the hard sciences. The case in defense of the Arts degree or diploma has been pledged countless times before, but this writer thinks it comes down to two main things:  Doing what you love and making what you do well count. There has always been a significant dip in people studying humanities subjects, as students move from secondary to post-secondary and tertiary levels of education. A few years back, a report on the dramatic drop in students reading Literature at the “O” levels reignited questions about the place and value of the humanities in Singapore. However, perhaps these findings merely call attention to an attitude towards the Arts that hasn't changed much over the decades. The study of the Arts for the most part continues to be seen as subsidiary and for “enrichment”—implying it is not essential.  Studying Geography, History and Literature in schools thus become yet another compulsory rung to overcome in the education system. As a result, students who choose to pursue the humanities at the tertiary level, in polytechnics or universities remain a rare bunch. I fell in love with Literature as a wide-eyed teenager in Secondary school and have never looked back since. The joy of reading and exploring an entirely different world without ever having to leave the comfort of my bedroom was a mind-blowing prospect—and remains so today. Yet the choice to pursue a “passion project” of a Literature degree continues to attract furrowed eyebrows and doubtful gazes from friends and family who don’t understand what a Literature degree could offer. The rejoinder of “You read a lot of books ah?”  is so commonplace, us Arts students don’t even feel bad anymore. So why do we do what we love? It’s because what we love is critical. Robin Williams’ character in the classic film Dead Poets Society famously said: "We don't read and write poetry because it's cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race. And the human race is filled with passion. And medicine, law, business, engineering, these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love, these are what we stay alive for." Not every humanities student likes poetry, but the sentiment behind these lines teaches us something important about the “fluffy” humanities subjects. In essence, it tells us that if the sciences are the body, the humanities are the soul—one without the other makes for an incomplete person.  If we can move away from the view that the humanities are a supplementary facet of our lives, and understand the symbiotic nature of the “more concrete” sciences and the Arts,  perhaps one could begin to understand the tremendous value of studying the Arts. If we understand the essential lessons that Geography can teach us about our relationship with the world in the context of climate change, or how learning History can help us avoid the political errors of the past, then perhaps we will see how there is nothing peripheral about studying the Arts at all, so don’t conflate passion with irrelevance.  Such a change in mindset needs to go beyond official reports from the state that decree how the sciences and the Arts are equally valuable. I believe a real shift can come only from the ground up—how we as a society can achieve this is something we’re still trying to figure out. The second thing I’ve learnt as a fervent believer in the study of the Arts is to make what you love to do count. Perhaps, the quickest and best way to convince someone of the value of your passions is to demonstrate its practical application in the real world. My Arts degree has trained my ability to analyse problems and create solutions, think quickly on my feet, improvise in a time of crisis and craft arguments swiftly. In a world where we are preparing for problems we cannot conceive of in the present, such skills are not generic but are in fact useful and transferable. They are also the exact skills that a humanities student hones every day in the classroom. In a literature seminar on factors that motivate characters in a Jane Austen novel, the Jane Austen part is probably not going to matter in your life beyond school, but practicing the skill of figuring out what makes people tick—that’s always valuable in or out of the workplace. In that sense, the humanities classroom affords its students the platform to emulate the problem-solving skills asked of them in the workplace. Additionally, perhaps the product of tediously penning essays for the duration of your humanities course means that you inevitably become pretty competent at writing. “Oh, you’re an Arts student? So you like writing? But you cannot make money from writing in Singapore.” is something I stopped rolling my eyes at a long time ago. Yes, I am an Arts student and yes; I like writing (although I know several Arts students who are good at writing but don’t necessarily like it.) Either way, writing is far from irrelevant in Singapore. The truth is, everyone needs a good writer. Every company needs a solid writer to think up engaging social media content, someone who can write coherent reports and proposals. Writing is an essential skill and although sometimes glossed over, a highly valuable one in the workforce. In the end, Arts students do what we do because we love what we do. And we love what we do because it can guide us on how to solve so many of the problems that we see in the world today. What we love to do and what we do well is essential, and you maybe everyone could see the value in the Arts too, if only we could turn off the blinders and look ahead.

You’ve all heard the same tired arguments before; the declarations of doom; the luddites sounding their clarion call. “The Internet is making us stupid!” “We don’t remember anything anymore! Google ruins your memory!” “We don’t read anymore! The Internet has stunted our attention spans!” “There’s too much information on the Internet! I’m scared!” Bullshit, bullshit, bullshit... and yeah, bullshit.

The recent network outage from Singtel reminded many of us of the importance of the Internet in our everyday lives. It also brought to mind many myths floating around about our reliance on the Internet and its negative effects on our minds. I’m here to tell you why they’re all bullshit.

A MENTAL PROSTHESIS

Author George Dyson famously posed a question that sums up the fears of many an Internet-naysayer. “What if the cost of machines that think,” Dyson asks, “is people who don’t?” A fair concern, I would say, but one that is not yet relevant to the Internet in its current state. Yes, many websites use algorithms and data-mining to mimic actual intelligence, but the Internet is still far from actual “thinking”. All the Internet really does is provide us with almost all the information we could ever need. What we do with this information is still entirely up to us. Wikipedia co-founder Larry Sanger very accurately described the role of the Internet as a “mental prosthesis”. Prostheses, by their very definition, are tools used to enhance and assist the performance of certain functions. Like a pair of spectacles to eyes or a walking stick to legs, the Internet helps our brains to make up for their natural limitations, and access information that would otherwise be completely inaccessible. We might not be forced to memorize as much information now as we were before, but that doesn’t mean our ability to remember is ruined. We are simply given the option to offload and compartmentalize information that can be later accessed and recalled more easily and reliably, giving us more time to connect and think about said information on a deeper level. Interesting to note, too, is that while all this pessimism about our ability to remember seems exclusive to the Internet age, it has actually existed for millennia. Socrates – yeah, that Socrates – once said, “[The written word] will create forgetfulness in the learners’ souls,” lampooning the very act of reading and writing. For all his fame, Socrates could be quite a myopic idiot sometimes.

BREADTH ABSENT DEPTH

A popular argument against Internet usage is that the Internet provides too much information, making it impossible for us to focus and really delve deep into a particular subject. Sigh. Come on, Karl, we have to say it again:

Internet-based information is certainly no more distraction-laden that any old-fashioned method of gathering knowledge. Ask yourself, during which process to obtain information would one be more susceptible to distractions: 1. A 30-minute walk to the nearest library through cafés and shops and bubble tea stores and video game arcades OR 2. Typing a few words into Google’s search bar Imagine if a friend of yours lived inside a massive library in which she could avail herself of any information she so desired at any point in time. Would you tell her, “Oh, there is no way you will ever learn anything in that place! There’s just too many books!” Of course not! That’s ridiculous! Yet people apply the same flawed criticism to the Internet, which is basically the digital equivalent of a humongous library. There used to be an aura of romance and exclusivity surrounding knowledge, when obtaining it required months or years of digging through books and files and other sources. Today, the progress from wanting to know something to actually knowing something is almost instantaneous, separated by no more than the touch of a button. Is that a bad thing? No! It’s a wonderful thing. The breadth of information on the net takes nothing away from its depth. Where deep learning used to be akin to diving into a well, we now dive into the Pacific Ocean. Isn’t that so much better?

READ A BOOK!

Yet another bullshit-worthy claim is that people read less books now because of the Internet. In actuality, the inverse might be true. According to a 2012 study published in The Atlantic, the percentage of book readers in the American population has steadily and drastically increased over the past few decades. Weren’t expecting that, were you? Plus, who are you to say that all those people staring at their smartphones on the train aren’t readers? Perhaps that guy is reading an e-book. Maybe that lady is browsing for book recommendations. Maybe that fellow prefers reading in the peace and quiet of his room, so he allots his time on noisy, crowded trains to less attention-demanding activities like playing Plants vs Zombies. *raises hand sheepishly*

NOT ALL DOOM AND GLOOM

Sure, there are people who use the Internet only for banal, vacuous activities like stalking social media, posting narcissistic compliment-fishing selfies, reading celebrity gossip, and sharing satirical articles without reading them, thinking they’re real. But are those people stupid because of the Internet? If the Internet didn’t exist, would those same people miraculously become geniuses? I’d have my money on NO. Stupid people use the Internet for stupid things. Smart people use the Internet for building knowledge and gaining perspectives. Most of us with an IQ above that of a potato use it for both. Our activities on the Internet are not a cause of our intellect or lack thereof, they are merely a symptom. The Internet doesn’t make us stupid. It simply gives us a powerful tool to pursue whatever information we desire, intellectual in nature or otherwise. So, the next time someone tells you that the Internet makes people stupid, you can respond by breaking out the classic (you guessed it!)…

“If your dreams don’t scare you, they’re not big enough." These are the words I’ll cling to for the rest of my years, no matter what anyone will try to tell me. I can’t remember how many times I’ve been told to “get a degree”, or better still, “get a degree with honours.” And after that, get a job. Growing up, it’s always felt like there was only one route to success—one that my parents, relatives, and Singapore society have already mapped out for me. Exploring isn’t encouraged. Stray a little from it and your life is basically ruined. It’s almost as if if your dreams didn’t fall on the beaten (to death) path, it's not worth having. And if it doesn’t earn you much? That makes it all the more pointless. “Dreams will be dreams”, our painfully realistic fellow Singaporeans will tell us, reminding us again and again of the risks of going our own way, the risks of pursuing what we truly want, as if it were already guaranteed that our dreams wouldn’t work out. But is it so wrong to want more than just a 9 – 5 office job?

If you have a dream, keep it big

Don’t let anyone tell you what to do or who to be. Cliché as it may sound, stay true to yourself. Living out someone else’s dream isn’t going to make you happy. Don’t belittle your dreams or let others make you feel foolish for having them. It’s good to have ambitions. It’s good to work towards something you feel deeply passionate about. Whether your dream is to be an artist or the CEO of your own company, keep dreaming, and keep those dreams big. Always make sure your dreams scare you a little, so they give you that rush of adrenaline you need to break out of the status quo.

Dare to talk about your dreams

Let’s face it. If you can’t even bring yourself to talk about your dreams, how will you have the courage it takes to achieve them? If you have a dream, own it, no matter the judgment or the looks people will give you. Own it, even if no one else gets it yet. Also, remember: the friends who support you and your dreams are the ones you should keep close. These are the people who truly understand you and have faith in your ability to turn your dreams into reality. While negative voices tend to be louder than positive ones, it’s important that you block them out and be receptive to support and advice from those who truly care. Don’t suppress your dreams, chucking them into the deepest recesses of your mind, wishing them away. The best way to keep your dreams big is to talk about them, and to speak them into reality, no matter what naysayers might say.

Find ways to make your dreams a reality

Making your dream a reality will require some strategy. It can’t come true if you don’t plan for it to happen. An important step to achieving your dreams is to break your bigger goals—those seemingly impossible ones—down into small, achievable objectives. Start small, and don’t discount your first steps, no matter how small or insignificant they may seem. If your dream is to be an artist, set aside time to nurture your artistic abilities and sensibilities. If you dream is to be a musician, perhaps it’s time to start singing some covers and putting yourself out on YouTube. Who knows what’ll happen from there? Along the way, look out for helpful classes, short courses and get professional advice when you can. It’s also good to surround yourself with the right people, people who are interested in and are driven by the same things you are, so you can help each other along. These steps may seem small at first, but over time, if you keep at it, you’ll find yourself that much closer to your dream than when you first started out. People aren’t afraid to have dreams. What they’re afraid of is chasing them. It’s easy to give up halfway and to let all the negativity surrounding you get you down, but here’s the thing about having a dream: you’re not going to have many supporters at first. Try something different, stray from the status quo, and leave behind the people who only ever put you down. Chasing your dreams requires stamina, faith, and a truckload of courage. There’s nothing wrong with envisioning something different for your life—a different picture of success. Like with most things, if you want it, it’s your responsibility to you to go out there and get it.

“Nobody exists on purpose. Nobody belongs anywhere. Everybody’s gonna die. Come watch TV.” If you know where that line comes from, good on you! Season 3 is taking way too long, amirite? If you don’t, that’s okay, you’re still cool. And hi, welcome to my article on why it’s good to not give a damn - well, sometimes anyway. I’ll try to get to the end before you stop giving a damn too.

Filling The Void

What is the meaning of life? Has there ever been a question at once so universally pondered and ubiquitously unanswerable? As members of one of the few species on Earth blessed (or cursed) with the ability of metacognition, our quest for meaning in life is an almost-exclusive and inescapable part of the human experience. We fumble for something, anything, to fill the existential void in our hearts. Some fill it with work, love, lust, family, or religion. Others distract themselves with video games, movies, and reading articles online. We live our lives like an endless race to outrun the relentless existential dread that invariably plagues us all, knowing that should we ever slow down in our pursuit of happiness, we might one day fail to answer our own question about why we even bother staying alive. I submit that maybe - just maybe - we should do the unthinkable. We should look back at the darkness that threatens to envelop us and crush our will to live, and instead of running, we should turn around. And we should laugh. 19^th Century philosopher Arthur Schopenhauer perhaps said it best: “The life of every individual, viewed as a whole and in general, and when only its most significant features are emphasized, is really a tragedy; but gone through in detail, it has the character of a comedy.” Perhaps true, lasting happiness can only be found when we strip the existential void of its darkness and turn it into one big joke; when we look at our own cosmic insignificance, and instead of shrinking from it, laugh heartily at the ridiculousness of it all.

A For Absurdism

French philosopher and Nobel laureate Albert Camus famously popularized absurdism, a philosophical school of thought based on the central tenet that life consists of two irreconcilable facets – the human desire to find meaning in life, and the universe’s absolute indifference to our existence. In his essay The Myth of Sisyphus, Camus compares the absurdity of human life to the mythical Greek figure Sisyphus, who was sentenced to push a boulder up a mountain only to have it roll back down, again and again, for all eternity. Camus (who is surprisingly optimistic for a philosopher) argues that dwelling on the pointlessness of existence is in itself pointless; that, “The struggle itself towards the heights is enough to fill a man’s heart. One must imagine Sisyphus happy.” He argues against the idea that suicide is the only logical reaction to the Absurd, and that we should instead “revolt” against our insistence on finding meaning.

What's The Point?

Life is ultimately meaningless, but that’s okay. We should continue to chase happiness, and futile as it may be, seek whatever gives us some sense of meaning or measure of peace, whether that be friendship, family, or career. Because to dwell on the futility of existence is to allow that same futility to consume us. However, we must be careful not to take things too far. Much of the ugliness that oftentimes characterizes human behaviour can be attributed to people getting so desperate to fill the sickening, terrifying vacuum of existentialism, that they ascribe far too much meaning to certain things in an effort to compensate. Extremism, selfishness, ego – all these behaviours bear the marks of an oversubscription to some perceived source of meaning in response to meaninglessness. Imagine if we could just take away the horror of our insignificance, and replace it with comedy – a joke shared by all of humanity. Instead of falling to despair when considering the non-existent meaning of life, we should stare at the void in our souls, and while endeavouring to fill it, laugh at the tragic comedy of it all. In the words of Bugs Bunny and Van Wilder: Don’t take life too seriously. No one makes it out alive anyway.

It’s the day you receive your diploma or your ‘A’ level certificate. University brochures are pouring in through the mail with their impossibly happy graduates, smiling about their university lives or their lives after that. “Come here. We’ll equip you with what you need to enter the real world”, they seem to say. If only this were true. How it is one can smile so glamorously in a study group, I’m not sure. Most of the time, we students are just slogging away when we’re in university. What’s worse, however, is that after years and years of mugging, late nights and examinations, grads are welcomed into adulthood with the best welcome gift: unemployment.

The New Unemployed

Got your degree? Congratulations! You’re officially unemployed. Upon graduation, graduates of 2016 will add to the “unemployed” statistics of the Singapore economy. Having a degree no longer gives you any kind of special edge and companies’ general attitudes towards graduates are more or less the same: “Everyone has a degree. Why should I hire you?” With an excess of graduates and a falling number of job vacancies, that piece of paper no longer represents any kind of job security. Welcome to the 21st century.

Hustle, Hustle, And Then Hustle Some More

When was the last time you heard of someone going on a gap year? You haven’t? Me neither. No one has time for that anymore, not in this economy. Some people even skip their grad trips—and not to save money. Graduates of 2016 will start their job hunt at the beginning of their final semester in school. If you haven’t secured yourself a job somewhere, brace yourself for the sympathetic looks from your peers who have. After 15-ish years of education, many graduates immediate dive into the working world. No one has time to rest or to take a breather - having a degree certainly won’t make your life any easier.

Eat Your Humble Pie

Despite the thousands of dollars we spend getting a university education, in 2016, the value of a degree is, sadly, equivalent to that of an ‘O’ level certificate 10 years ago. Everyone has a degree, so having a degree doesn’t make you very special. In fact, it’s the “bare minimum” if you want to land yourself a decent job. Having a degree is simply not enough; you need to supplement that with work experience. And those of us who didn’t plan as far ahead and who didn’t get around to beefing up our resumes will have to kick ourselves as we struggle to convince employers it's us they should hire. In this day and age, you can’t be too picky with your job. More often than not, it’s your job that picks you.

Coming Up With A New Strategy

While things may seem bleak, not all hope is lost. Instead of fighting their way into conventional paths, many graduates are creating their own paths through innovative startups. With graduates becoming increasingly disillusioned about their futures, many are looking into starting their own businesses, even if it’s got absolutely nothing to do with what they studied in university. With social media and a digital space that is open and available to all, these days, you don’t need a brick and mortar store to run a business. A little Googling and reading up online will tell you virtually everything you need to know about how to make the Internet work for you. And if e-commerce isn’t for you, you can be your own brand by putting your perspectives and personality out there. Millennials are a tech-savvy bunch and in the absence of opportunity, I think we’re adept to create some of our own. What this also means though, is that many degree holders will end up doing things that have little or nothing to do with the courses they studied—not that that’s necessarily a bad thing. Having a degree today really isn’t the same as having a degree in the past. Perhaps it’s time to rethink the possibilities that a degree can promise, and keep your mind open to other options.

#thisis2016, even if there have been a fair few times this year where it’s felt pretty 20th century. Between Trump, Brexit and Kanye deciding he wasn’t content with being called Yeezy/Yeezus (he also needed to be known as Pablo) it does seem like the only silver lining of 2016 was that we got a brand new Harry Potter movie - thanks, J.K. Rowling. So, do we need to run through the series of unfortunate events that has been this year? I didn’t think so - the past 11 months have been a circus. That is, a circus ending with a pretty alarming wake up call. It was a year slated for shattering the highest and hardest of all glass ceilings, for affirming the female voice and recognising the boundless capacity of women in roles where white-male power has been so ingrained. And yet, in America one man convicted of sexual assault walks free after serving three months of his sentence while another holds the title of president elect. A little closer to home, Teenage Magazine publishes a piece, victim blaming. We hear echoes of the old (troubling) refrain "she was asking for it". The glass ceiling remains intact, and misogyny is alive and well. It’s also been the year of Western countries shutting their borders as refugees pour out of war-torn regions, surging police brutalities, of the Singapore government mandating race-reserved elections to introduce a semblance of equality (read: tokenism). #thisis2016 was developed as a rally cry for Asian-Americans, a way for them to call out and share the day to day racism they experienced. And with the year we’ve had, there are a couple more things we need to stand against.

“She was asking for it”

Ah, the final frontier of victim blaming. An old classic. In a perfect world, a sexual assault victim would be met with empathy instead of doubt, but somehow people take it upon themselves to judge the nature of the victim to see whether their claim to sympathy is valid. Was there drinking involved? How short was her skirt? Did she obey the endless set of rules women have to follow in order to have their humanity respected? This mindset is harmful for so many reasons, not only because it protects the perpetrator but because it reinforces the victim’s feelings of guilt. Society does not need to climb aboard the victim’s guilt-trip train, because chances are, she’s already there. And she shouldn’t be - she did nothing wrong. No one “asks for it”.

“Facebook news = the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth”

We are living in the post-truth era. Remember that meme telling you to apply for that job you want but have no experience for because if Trump did it, so can you? Not only is zero experience required, but in our post-Trump world, it means you can flat out lie in your interview too. Facts no longer matter - it’s erratic, deliberately misinformed tweets and Facebook fake news chaos for us all now! Case in point: that meme that 11,000 Americans voted for Harambe? It’s a lie. Even though we don’t have to navigate bi-partisan social media echo chambers, it’s on us to fact check the things we read online.

“Political correctness has gone too far”

Language matters - it can be used to incite and isolate, as well as to affirm. We’ve seen how words served to sever a country pretty deeply divided to begin with - words that were passed off as locker room talk, words so racially charged (any bad hombres up in here?). It’s not so hard to reimagine them in a different context. Foreign trash. PRC scum. Or, in an accidental slip of the tongue. You don’t even look Indian. You’re so pretty… for a [insert race here]. Words matter. They matter a lot. They draw a line between ourselves and the “other”, oftentimes without us realising. We all have our prejudices, and we need to safeguard against them - starting with our words (and you know, actions too). #thisis2016 and there are only 30 days left to it. If we're to rescue ourselves from the shambles this year has become, we've got some work to do. Top Image Credit: Bowdoin Asian Students Association

I am a perfectionist. I am sad, I am frustrated, I am stressed out, and these days, I find it hard to find any kind of work rewarding. These days, I fight tiring, losing battles with myself in my head. In true perfectionist form, I try to appear like things are under control when inside, I believe I am not good enough in nearly every way. I am not clever enough, not creative enough, not capable enough. I don’t write well enough. I’m not growing fast enough. I suck at my job. You could grab someone off the street to take my place and he’d easily do a better job than me. Literally anyone else is better than me. What the f*ck am I good for. It’s depressing, being in my head. I look at other people and I wonder how it is they can take things so easily. Why can’t I be as happy, as free, as light as everyone else is? Oh my god, why can’t I just chill? Now, I’m well aware that this isn’t good for me. I tell myself I need healthier thoughts. I tell myself I need to get comfortable with the idea of making mistakes, that there is so much to be gained from making mistakes. I tell myself perfection is a lofty, lofty ideal that will only drive me crazy. And still, it is only a matter of time before I fall back into old ways, back into the cold arms of my punishing need for perfect.

The pursuit of perfection

Perfect sounds wonderful. We talk about the perfect life, the perfect home, the perfect family. Perfect sounds perfect. Perfect sounds like the ultimate goal to aspire towards, the gold standard—but it isn’t. What I’ve realized is perfection is a curse in blessing’s clothing. It’s not a reasonable goal. It should not be the gold standard. What it is, instead, is a path towards self-destruction. See, perfectionists are their worst critics. Before you tell them their work could be better, they’ve already told it to themselves, in much harsher ways. Perfectionists are well-acquainted with the words “stupid”, “useless”, “dumb”—they regularly use them on themselves; they feel these things every day. The thing about perfectionism is we set ourselves up to fail at every turn with our excessive standards, and by these standards, we diminish ourselves every day. In my experience, the longer I’ve worked, the harder I’ve strived for perfection, the more incapable it’s left me feeling. Things that started out fun, things that I started with love become ruined once touched by my toxic perfection. At its root, perfectionism is about fear. Perfectionism is what happens when you’re deathly afraid to fail, when you’re terrified of criticism. Perfectionism is when you strive for excellence not because we want to, but because you simply can’t not. We can’t fail because it’ll reflect on who we are, on what we are capable of. We can’t fail because in our minds, we are only as valued or as worthy as we are successful. Beyond the practical things that are at stake, like our job or our reputation with our higher ups, our sense of self-worth hangs in the balance.

F*ck perfect

I’m a perfectionist, and maybe this is who I will be for a very, very long time. But I’m trying to teach myself a couple of things: First, that perfect is good but not necessary. Not everything has to be perfect. The occasional typo in an email is allowed. One slight misstep will not be the end of my career. I am allowed to produce sh*t work, if my best truly is sh*t. Sometimes, trying is enough—it's surely better than not trying at all. Second, trust yourself anyway. When perfectionism makes a home in your head, self-esteem is quickly kicked to the curb. And with an injured self-esteem, you can lose trust in yourself, even if you have good ideas, are a great problem solver, or actually have many valuable qualities to boast of. Many perfectionists are doing just fine in reality, and it only feels like things are going to sh*t in our clouded heads. Third, I’m teaching myself to not be defined by my work. Surely there is more to us than the work we do and how good we are at it? In life, we play so many roles: the child, the partner, the friend, the colleague. There are 101 ways to play those roles well, to be a truly valuable human being. So, I’m going to define a person’s worth my way, and I’m going to find a way to love myself, apart from the work I do and how successful I am at it. I am much more than how good a worker I am.

Many of us consider Singapore to be a relatively safe place. We don’t hear many stories about people getting sexually harassed, and rarely do we hear them told from the victims themselves. Yesterday, a question posted to Reddit Singapore asking “Women of /r/singapore, have you ever experienced sexual harassment?” sparked a flurry of responses from women detailing their experiences with sexual harassment, revealing that this may be more common in Singapore than we realize. 1. Many times. The one incident that happened on public transport when I was 16. Gotten on the MRT and noticed this guy who kept staring at me. I walked to the other side of the train and he followed. When the seat beside me cleared up, he sat down. He wasn't local, probably around late 20s - early 30s. After a few stops, he turns to me and asked in mandarin, "You want to come to my house and watch porn?". I noticed he was holding his phone and it was a naked girl on his display. Replied him loud enough for everyone to hear that if he asks me to watch porn with him again, I will report him for sexual harassment. He noped out of the MRT pretty quick. - saltides 2. Yes, plenty of times, but one particular incident stands out to me. A few years ago I was riding on a bus and some old hamsup ticko sat next to me. He struck up a conversation by asking me for the time and we continued making small talk about general things. The longer we talked, the more personal his questions got. He eventually started asking me where I lived, what school I went to, why I was going home this late at night (it was only 10pm, wtf). I deflected most of his questions by giving fake or really vague answers. I was getting super SKETCHED OUT and was planning to switch seats until he dropped this bomb on me: [Appraises me up and down] "For a small girl like you, you have really big boobs" I noped the fuck out of there at the next stop. - wandxrlust 3. (1) Not me, but my friends. Sec 1, they were just walking around those neighborhood shops when they notice a man following them around. They run into a toilet and hide in cubicle hoping to evade him. Several minutes pass and they don't hear anything so they go out. As they stood in front of the mirror and do as all 13 year old girls do (i.e selfies with Motorola razr), a cubicle door opens. Lo and behold, it's the creep. He approaches them while they stare into the reflection in the mirror. They were too scared to scream or run. He holds out his hand asking for some soap. One of myblonde friends (not making fun of blonde angmoh girls but my friend was like the stereotypical blonde air headed bimbo type) told him "You can press the soap machine and take yourself." He smiles at her and asks her to pass him some. Her, being dumb af, pumped some soap into her palm and pours it into his hands. That's when she notices that he has his dick in his other hand and was wanking off. They all notices it at the same time, scream and takes off running into a nearby LAN shop where a few ah bengs decide to help them out and hunt for the guy. Never found him. (2) I worked in a kitchen as part of my internship and had some ungodly hours to clock. One night, I took the last 857 bus home. If you know 857, you'd know the passengers. They're mostly Bangladeshi construction workers. It was a Sunday night and the entire bus was packed with construction workers. Not to be mean or anything, I am pretty tight with some construction workers around my housing area and regularly talk to them. Most of them are hardworking and nice, but then there's the 5% that just ruins everything. Pretty sure all 5% of the bad apples were in that bus that night. I had no seat and was squashed up in a corner. I felt a hand grazing my butt every time the bus jerked. Decided to give the guy the benefit of the doubt; maybe it was an accident. But when the bus hit a stop light and I found a hand on my ass... Oh boy. That ain't no accident. I turned around and glared into his eyes. Pretty sure I shot lasers that night. He got the message and left me alone. But I had another thing to survive - getting out of the bus. My stop was coming up next after a hellish hour on that bus. I was really far from the exit and had to squeeze through everyone. I was like… the only girl on that bus. And I could not count how many hands were on my body as I tried to exit. It was the scariest and most disgusting thing I’ve ever felt in my life. I went home to scrub myself after that. None of them were accidents. I looked into their faces as I exited and as I said "excuse me" and they were LAUGHING and smiling at me as they groped me. #FYOU - lunaelly 4. When I was in Sec 4, this senior of mine asked me to come down to his house so that I could collect some guidebooks from him. Slightly sketchy but his dog was super cute and I trusted him to not be a dick. Never was I so wrong. He threatened to rape me. I put on a false bravado and basically told him that I would fuck him over if he tried. Scarred for life afterwards, and still have a slight fear of all men to this day. - kat-xuan 5. (1) Man on the train kept brushing against my butt in a rocking motion while we were standing, it was morning rush but it wasn't that bad. Other people could stand behind each other with a good amount of space. I walked off whenever I could, but this has happened more than once. Men also like to use the crowded train as an excuse to brush against my boobs. (2) I was resting my arms on the armrests in a hair salon and the guy hairdresser who was meant to be a family friend kept pressing/moving his crotch against my arm and would stand necessarily close to cut my hair. I was about 16 or 17 at the time. I moved my arms, didn't say anything and waited for the nightmare to be over. Never let him cut my hair ever again. (3) I worked as a beer promoter when I was about 15-16? Can't name the brand, but it's a fairly popular brand here. Old men would constantly ask 'Little girl, come serve us ah' when I was only meant to promote it at a store. Constant wolf whistling. I was scared and soft spoken back then, so I didn't say anything. (4) Surrounded by guys who think it's okay to make rape jokes. One dude said to me, when we were alone, "I wish the purge would happen in Singapore. Then rape can be legal." I was horrified and I told him off but I'm pretty sure he still wants it to happen. (5) I was walking and this old man was walking in my direction. As he got nearer, he (looked to be about 60-70+ years old by the way) and and said "WOW!" really loud while ogling my tits while I speed walked. I was already about five steps before my brain processed what he had done. I was wearing a normal, fitted star wars shirt and this happened yesterday outside a MRT station. - moleskines 6. Friend says he needs to pee after drinking at Clarke quay. On his way home on the cab. Calls and asks if I can let him go up and pee cuz it's urgent and the cab ride is far away. I say ok. Comes up. Pees. Leaves bathroom. Starts getting touchy. Drag me to my bedroom. Mouth covered. Dunno why parents don't wake up. Starts forcibly kissing. I say no. But he was so drunk like, I think he wasn't responding. Drunk people are actually really strong. Vagina bleeds for the next few days. Dropped all the friends from that circle immediately. - hieveemonster 7. Working in F&B for a while now. My male colleagues kinda see me as a bro and they joke about sexual stuff. But sometimes they get a little too… Eh… Idk the exact words for what I am describing but these are what my male coworkers have said to me: "How big are your boobs?" "Do you like big dicks?" "You must be damn tight." "Wanna go out to drink? Let's get drunk and have a one night stand. I promise to make you scream." I usually shut them up with some sarcastic reply but it only works for a while. - lunaelly 8. Dude stalked me on the way home. When I got into the lift, he stopped the doors from closing and started to jerk off. I vividly remember that he has a very small member... I was 19 then, and a late bloomer, I panicked and screamed. He booked it. Then I threw my bag at him but missed. Some people came around because of the commotion and told me to go to the police. They weren't really kind, they made some sarcastic remarks too. Then I went to the police station nearby and waited for my mum and sis to come pick me up. - PrimAndProper69 9. My best friend once had a guy sit next to her on the bus, and just started to jerk off right next to her. Fuck, just last week some guy pretended to be a buyer on Carousell and kept sending her dick pics. - samleecx 10. Yes a couple of times. The scariest would have to be when I was 12. I was on the way home from school in my PE uniform (tee and shorts) and had fallen asleep on the bus. I was sitting on the inner seat closest to the window. I woke up to an old uncle stroking my thighs. I was too scared to make a big fuss, so after I tried getting him to stop once, I just got off a stop earlier. - strangerrocks 11. Fell asleep once on the bus, woke up to find the guy behind me had slid his hand between the seat and the bus wall and was stroking my waist. Another time on the MRT, this guy started easing his hand under the schoolbag on my lap and started stroking my thigh. - halfbakery 12. (1) A guy once stuck a piece of paper with his phone number in my bra when I bent over to pick something up. (2) When making a police report, the IO asked about the color of my bra/asked if I want to see ‘his gun’/told me to feel free to send him ‘photos’. - elmachosierra 13. When I was working, I had a particularly cheeko co-worker framing his lewd requests as jokes and asking me to let him "touch (my) boobs, just once" (should I mention, while pointing a knife at me, we work in a kitchen) or openly checking me out and intentionally making it known to me. - saydoubleokay <a href=" Image Credit