Tribute to My Nation



My first memories of National Day have always been the school celebrations, whereby we learnt to sing community songs a few weeks before the celebration. The schools in Singapore usually have the celebration one day before National Day, and we would watch the performances put up by our peers, and wave little Singapore flags. At the end of the day, we would go home with files or pens with the words ‘Happy National Day’ on them.

I never had the chance to watch the National Day Parade up close, partly because my parents were never enthusiastic about the idea. It is also partly because the tickets used to be much coveted items, which people queued up for days to obtain. However, watching the National Day Parade on television was a grand event. As a young child, I used to watch it earnestly with my cousins, and of course our favourite programme was the fireworks display, and sometimes we can see the display right outside the windows, much to our excitement.

As I grew older, the novelty of celebrating National Day wore off. However, I still have the amusing habit of counting the flags that are hung inverted, on the exterior walls of HDB flats.

Everything was simple and pretty when I was a child. I knew that I was born in a country that is ‘prosperous and flourishing’. I was promised of a bright future if I ‘study hard’. It seemed that every Singaporean has an equal opportunity to succeed in life. It seemed that nobody would be left behind. It did not take long for me to be disillusioned though.

One of the most memorable National Day memories I had is when I was in Secondary Two. I was told to write a composition in my English class, about what I appreciate about Singapore. I wrote a whole lot of gullible comments about having efficient government, clean environment, racial harmony etc. My teacher simply wrote this comment in red ink in the margin of my composition: ‘Unfortunately, racial discrimination exists everywhere.’ That was the only comment she wrote for this piece of essay, and I remember that I felt the impact when I read it. It is not something that I never knew, but the message drove it in hard that time.

If I were to substitute the word ‘racial’ with other terms like age, gender, sexual orientation, that statement would still hold true. The fact that discrimination exists, is glaringly ugly on this little sunny island of ours. Discrimination exists everywhere, yes. However I am truly disturbed by how we sweep everything under the carpet, denying that we have a problem in the first place.

When I was younger, I always thought that I can live anywhere in the world. I would have the means to pursue a more carefree lifestyle elsewhere, where I would not be discriminated because I am gay. I wanted to live at a place with more freedom of speech and political freedom, a place which truly practises meritocracy which not only scholars and professionals are deemed fit to run the country.

However, when I took up an overseas internship and lived outside of Singapore for some time, I realize that my Singaporean identity is here to stay with me no matter where I go. It is so deeply imprinted in me, from my taste buds to my mindset, which I can never change fundamentally. It is also not something that I want to change either.

I thought that I would never miss home while I was out of the country, and boy I was so wrong. I craved for Singaporean dishes so much that I tried whipping up imitation versions of Singaporean dishes in the foreign kitchen, despite that I could not obtain all the ingredients. I also had the habit of asking for chilli sauce in fast food restaurants.

To me, the most defining characteristic of a Singaporean is actually my mindset. I looked at the various road repair sites and wondered to myself why the various authorities did not coordinate among themselves to prevent the same road being dug up over and over again. I could not understand why building a new stadium is more important than installing a heating system in university. I value honesty and pragmatism, more than my fellow colleagues. It was not that they are dishonest, it was simply I was never trained to do my work or express myself in any other way, other than the most straight forward way.

I was often mistaken as a Taiwanese, and I was always quick to correct them that I am a Singaporean. I was a bit alarmed myself too, because I never realize how important my nationality means to me until then. In fact, my national identity means more to me than my racial, gender and sexual identities. It escalates above all my other identities.

The longer I stayed away from Singapore, the more I am convinced that Singapore will always be my home, with all my family and friends. Sometimes I am immensely grateful for the fact that I am educated, and that I have never experienced real poverty and hunger. If I was born in the villages of a third-world country, I might have never got a chance to be educated in school, much less write this article. Our forefathers did much for the country, and I feel the obligation to contribute to the nation that nurtured me to be who I am today.

That is, if my country recognizes that I can contribute too, as a gay Singaporean.
I do hope that someday, I can truly feel that I am a part of the nation, regardless of who I am. I want to be able to come out in the workplace without fearing discrimination. I want to be able to hold a girl’s hand in public in peace. I want to declare that I will safeguard a girl’s happiness in my hands, in the eyes of the law. I want to be happy in my own country, just like everyone else.

For she will always be my country and my homeland, no matter where I go.