Finding a line in shifting sands

Thoughts, like water, are essential to sustaining life but they are similarly difficult to shape. Writers must always struggle with the possibility - no the probability - that the texts they pour their ideas into will take a different shape in the minds of their readers. For me, as a writer, this is my greatest struggle: to find forms for my ideas which have enough structure and integrity to sustain their approximate shape as they pass into the minds of others.

The significance of this struggle has been foremost in my mind as I have reflected on whether to publish the post I wrote last week.

What I wrote responds to the sentiments of Mikhail Gorbachev published last month in a letter ofcongratulations (p.26) to the United World College movement on the occasion of the movement’s 50^th anniversary. Gorbachev writes about how little he feels has been achieved since the end of the cold war; he argues that, instead of striving to make the world a better place, the last twenty years has seen a focus on ‘superprofits and overconsumption, on social and environmental irresponsibility, making the human being merely a cog in an economic machine.’ In my post I paid tribute to Gorbachev as a man of integrity and vision and I wrote about the incongruities of the affluence that supports the UWC movement and the challenges that Gorbachev believes face the world.

Because I work for one of the United World Colleges (UWCSEA) my own position on this issue is complex. The UWC mission statement says that, “UWC makes education a force to unite people, nations and cultures for peace and a sustainable future,” and so a part of my job is to prepare students to critically engage with the world as they strive to improve it. But I also work in Singapore and so when I signed my work contract, I agreed that I would not comment publically about the Singapore Government. My lifestyle, my affluence, my students’ lives and the affluence that is necessary to the very existence of my school is predicated on the economic miracle that is Singapore and Gorbachev is asking some challenging questions about the economic foundations of this system. It is difficult to ask these questions without also reflecting on the economic values of the city in which we live and there is a risk, as I explore Gorbachev’s writing, that I could find myself being critical of the government here in Singapore.

I am overstating the problem of my own post but I am doing so because I have a further point to make. What I wrote is not critical of the Singaporean Government nor would I want it to be. I don’t know exactly where the line is in the sand that I must not cross, but I am experienced and aware enough to know roughly where it is and to stay carefully at a distance. My real worry about my post is that it is written – like this post – largely for my students and I don’t know that this line is as easily discerned by them.

And this is the real challenge that I wish to raise: how do my students, who are by definition young and learning about the world, explore and challenge the status quo without the risk of crossing lines? What is my responsibility as a teacher in regard to inviting enquiry but protecting my students from crossing into territory where they should not go? Should my students’ blogs be public and thus allow a meaningful engagement with the world, or private and there-by remove much of the risk but also much of the engagement? If I am not standing beside my students when they enter the online world, am I leaving them to enter it alone and without guidance?

The complexities of these challenges were highlighted by the recent transgressions of an Australian/Malaysian woman here in Singapore. Amy Cheong wrote a ‘Facebook post railing over the noise from a Malay wedding being held in a void deck near her home, which was filled with expletives and insults about the community’ (The Strait Times October 13, p. D4). Within 24 hours, Cheong had been sacked by her employer and left Singapore.

The media discussion around Ms Cheong's treatment has been extensive. Whether the response was proportionate is not my concern in this post. What I would like to note is that Ms Cheong was tertiary educated, 37 years old and professionally employed by the National Trades Union Congress. She should have known where to find the line.

When I write about issues of economics or social justice, so should I. But when I do so, I tacitly open this possibility for my students, too, and I can’t expect them to be as able when reading the nuances of the world. That is why I am writing this post: to remind my students that the writing they do in their blogs (and in their private lives on Facebook) is real and can have real consequences. This is powerful and something to be embraced, but, as they experiment in the sandpit of the internet, it is important that my students are constantly thinking about where the line might be.

In the Saturday Straits Times (13/10/12, p. D4), Law Professor Tan Cheng Han, chair of the Singapore Media Literacy Council (MLC), was asked to comment on the Cheong incident. As part of his article, he wrote about what the public can do to engender a better social media environment:

As in the real world, show your disapproval of anti-social behaviour. And also try to be fair-minded and courteous even in disagreement.

            After all, most people who don’t agree with you are more likely to at least see your point of view if you put it across politely.

            They may even come round to your point of view eventually, but they almost certainly won’t if you put your points across insultingly and condescendingly.

I am educating young people to make a better world: Prof Tan Cheng Han’s advice seems like a solid foundation on which to build that world. Finding an appropriate line in the sand will always require careful reading and thoughtful engagement with others and I don’t believe my students can do this from outside the sandpit. I want them engaged, active, thoughtful and respectfully changing the world. Thought and language always requires care and negotiation as ideas are passed from one mind to another. These are skills that must be taught and learned.

My advice to my students:

• ·            Think about who might read your writing and what it might mean to them.
• ·            Write respectfully.
• ·            Be productively provocative – ask questions of your world and expect that it can be better.
• ·            Strive to understand the context in which you live and write and, if you’re not sure, ask others who might understand it better.
• ·            Draft – because drafting means, amongst other things, that you will take some time between writing and publishing. It is always good to get another opinion on your writing and to reread it yourself with fresh eyes.
• ·            Remember that there can be consequences for getting it wrong – both for you, for me, for your family and for your school – but that we trust you to explore the world honestly and respectfully and we support you in doing this. I would far rather an honest mistake than a failure to try.