Let me first put this out there: Our parents do not owe us. 

And it is quite a shocker to know that an adult son had brought his father to court to ‘demand’ for financial support for his overseas university education. 

Recently, a Family Court judge “ordered a father to fund 60% of his adult son's degree studies in Canada, ruling that the latter was entitled to seek such maintenance.” 

In this case, the court had ruled in the son’s favour as it was considered a ‘duty of child maintenance’ under the Women’s Charter. 

It’s interesting to note that the son was (already) 22 when he applied for maintenance from his father. In this case, the ‘payouts’ were deemed necessary for his education.

It is the discretion of the court and the judge to determine what ‘duty’ the parents have in this case. But it also makes me question: How much is our parents responsible to us?

Our Livelihood = Our Parents’ Responsibility?

Filial piety is strongly entrenched in our Asian culture and it often makes us question what we owe to our parents. On the other hand, what do our parents owe to us? Do they even owe us?

Some argue that it is the parents’ decision to bring a child into this world after all, making it their responsibility to support the child. But, until which point do we stretch this responsibility to?

When the child turns 18? Or for as long as the child is emancipated at the ‘legal age’ of 21?

There are so many intricacies in deciding our parents responsibility to us. 

Most will agree that at the very least, it is the parents’ responsibility to provide their children with the rudimentaries of life. In the most primal sense, it is in providing a child with safety and wellbeing, and the basic necessities for survival, like water, food, and clothing. But how about education? 

How do we set the parameters of basic education for a child, when what is basic to one may not be the same to others?

When our parents had us 20 or 30 years ago, the basic level of education is (arguably) an ‘O’ level certificate. Back then, tertiary education is a good-to-have, and university degrees are a bonus. Today, we have an abundance of degree holders and most jobs require a minimum of a tertiary education. 

Overseas education was a luxury and only for the wealthy in our parents’ time but these days, it’s not unusual to see our peers pursuing further education in Australia or even in far-flung places like Europe, the US, and China. 

Which brings us back to the case in question where the 22-year-old son applied for maintenance from his father to pay for his university fees: Is it then fair for him to be demanding financial support from his parents, for his overseas university fees?

I trust that most would agree that our parents have the responsibility of bringing us up, however, there should also be a limit to their duty as parents. 

Our parents’ duty to us is to arm us with whatever is the minimum required for us to support ourselves while considering the cultural or societal standards we have today. In other words, for as long as we are capable of securing (non-exploitative, legal) employment to support ourselves. 

I know of people who have had to juggle two jobs while doing their part-time diploma studies, just so that they can achieve financial independence, and by choice. I’ve also met underprivileged Singaporeans who have had to take on odd jobs from the age of 16, to help with their family’s finances. With all these in mind, it does make me wonder what significance a university education has in the ‘maintenance of a child’. 

It is incredibly hard to believe that at 22, someone would still act like they are owed the right of financial support by their parents. Especially for a luxury like an overseas university education—something that is not required to get a job today.

We are not entitled to our Parents’ wealth, as they are not entitled to ours.

"The father was able to pay for his son’s fees but was unwilling to, as he believed the son wanted to use his money to lead a lifestyle that he disapproved of."

The other narrative surrounding this case is on whether the parents have the financial ability to pay for their child’s university education. A narrative that should not even matter because it is almost equivalent to saying that it is our parents’ responsibility to put us through university.  

To which I’d like to quote Jazmine Denise in her article titled “Dear Adult Children, Your Parents Don’t Owe You Anything”:

“We are not entitled to their time. We are not entitled to their money. We are not entitled to their resources.”

It is a bonus if our parents are capable and willing to financially support us in pursuits that are beyond the societal minimum (for a livelihood), and if they don’t, we owe it to ourselves to work for what we want. 

Like the epiphany Jazmine had after going through pregnancy, I only truly realised how much I have been taking my parents for granted after being thrown into ‘adulting’ myself. 

I had taken advantage of my mum’s care for me. Every morning, she’d wake up earlier than me just to prepare breakfast for me before going back to bed again. I took it for granted because on some days, I’d return that favour by chiding her for forgetting that I didn’t like bread with fried eggs, for example. “Tell you how many times that I don’t like already,” I’d snap at her. 

I took my parents support for granted, for I never had to pay a single cent for my university education and I thought that it was a given. That was until I learnt of how many of my friends had taken up student loans to fund their school fees. For someone whose parents never once made education fees a concern, it hit me how easy I’ve had it.

After shifting out to a HDB flat of my own with my partner and beginning to plan for our future, I know now, more than ever, how my parents have already provided for me beyond what is required. And it is all those little acts of service and gestures from my parents that I’ve started to realise the significance of now that I am accountable to my partner, his family, and our own home. 

I’m fortunate. 

I also know of people with really f***ed up parents. Parents who would not only neglect their children but who would shamelessly sell their family out to loan sharks. Parents like these could create heavy mental baggages for their children, and it is very easy to blame one’s failure on their ‘messed up family history’. However, it is up to one’s self to carve out the life they desire for themselves. 

With that said, I know of people who have no qualms living off their parents even when they are well into their twenties. The level of self-entitlement is nauseating. 

For everything that our parents would have had to sacrifice to bring us up to our adulthood, it should never be their duty to continue supporting us when we are capable of independence. And if we want that liberty of pursuing what we want, we should be ready to accept that with that freedom comes with the responsibility of being responsible for ourselves.

Our parents don’t owe us. If anything, we owe them our life, and we owe them for the 20 odd years of time, money, energy, and love that they have poured into us.

And if you think that you are still entitled to anything from them, shame on you.

Also read: We Live Under One Roof, But We Don’t Feel Like Family At All.

(Header Image Credit: chuttersnap on Unsplash)

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.

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.