Real men do cry. I turned on the television this morning and caught sight of Mr Lee Kuan Yew crying back in 1965, in a documentary, The History of Singapore. At a youthful age of 42, Mr Lee Kuan Yew had to reckon with a reality that went against a belief he held the whole of his adult life – the merger of Malaysia and Singapore.
Real women do cry, too. My ah-ma is 95 years old. Although healthy, she is dying and she knows it herself. My grandmother was given up for adoption since infant and started work as a live-in maid since 7 years old. Although she is now loved by a big family of children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren, she still doesn't cry easily, except for the times her young son died in an air crash and her young granddaughter died of a heart failure.
Besides crying, what else do real men and women have in common? Birth, illness, death, families, favourite foods, dreams, frustrations and the occasion confusion, to name a few. Recently, all good men and women in this land went through a full month of thinking and talking about women, sex, religion and politics. What would all this mean to my ah-ma? Bedridden from a fall, she called to ask how was our preparation for the EGM, as she knew that I was volunteering with AWARE. When I visited her, she advised me not to fight but to live and let live, to forgive and let go. She lamented that her legs are weak now and she could no longer cook vegetarian beehoon for me and my friends at AWARE. My father promptly reminded that she cooked beehoon for the volunteers helping out in the 1961 Bukit Ho Swee fire and for the students and workers active in the 1960s independence movement. In recent years, when I turned vegetarian, she insisted on giving me a big tupperware full of vegetarian beehoon on chinese new year eves. “So that you won't go hungry on the first day of the new year”, she would say.
My ah-ma's vegetarian beehoon is vegetarian because for most of her life, she lived on a tight budget. White soft beehoon garnished with a few strips of carrots and greens – a simple recipe of life, a simple lesson in feminism for me. Life is simple isn't it? Sufficient food, a roof over our heads, a decent job, loving families and friends. And if possible, a chance at living a life of respect, service and compassion.
It is the state of our society that not everyone want to be civil society activists or community leaders. Most people hope and pray that unfairness and harm do not come their way. If a daughter or friend was molested, raped or abused by her husband, most of us may not necessarily know what to do. We may even fear the danger of getting too involved. Yet we feel the pain in our hearts for what she is going through. On the other hand, if we see a woman bullying her husband, child or colleague, we feel a disquiet sense of unjust or even anger. And usually we do not do anything much as well.
A woman growing up living her life can do good things and bad things – depending on her motivation and the context of her actions. A group of women fighting for women's rights can do good things and bad things – depending on their clarity, purpose and the openness of the society. Amidst a sea of expectations and perceptions, how should women's groups find their missions? In a complex and fragmented world, what is freedom for some women may be oppression for others. If a woman is earning good money and enjoying a senior management position, how easy is it for her to give it all up? Will fellow women support her or feel a wasted opportunity in championing women's rights through her position and wealth? As I get on in life, will I unintentionally replicate the custom of patriarchal (or matriarchal) command over others, especially those younger and marginalised? Fighting for rights is never easy nor straight forward. Unfortunately, we sometimes focus too much on tangible progresses while taking for granted the process – of making conscious choices to be compassionate and respectful.
Growing up on my ah-ma's beehoon, I realise that as long as we do not go hungry, it doesn't matter how much garnish we have in our beehoon. It would be nice to have salmon or organic toufu but what matters is that everyone is fed and feels the love.
I think my ah-ma is a feminist. But it doesn't matter to her and it sure doesn't matter to all the volunteers, students and workers who were fed by her. My ah-ma and many men and women around me have demonstrated that feminism, as with any social cause or movement, works best if it transcends beyond a label, an ideology, a politic, a right or a fight. It is about helping the discriminated and those suffering, while empowering with respect and choice.
For my ah-ma, it is never about fighting but about compassion – no one wants to be unhappy and everyone wants to feel safe. Let us all do what we can, while we can.... while we can.
No comments:
Post a Comment