Bullying

We had a chance to try out the school’s policy on bullying this week, the first week back at school for The Wast and Little Dinosaur.

Bullying. Bullying. At all the International and Australian private schools I passed through, bullying was part of the rich, natural fabric of life … usually directed against me. Although all said schools had a supposedly “zero tolerance” of bullying, nothing was done, even when I was desperate enough to go to the Office, or to my class teacher, and report it myself. That’s not to say that all the blame lay with the schools. My parents also contributed to the problem by not wanting to rock the boat or upset any authority, so there was never parental support backing me up in that regard.

With a jaundiced eye, then, I heard the “absolutely no tolerance” statement about bullying coming from the Vice-Principal of the current school and mentally yawned at the appropriate juncture. Until Little Dinosaur emerged from the school bus crying on Monday afternoon, followed soon after by The Wast with a stunned look on his face. It seemed that a boy from Primary-1 decided to bully our kids by pulling LD’s hair, taking some stickers she’d got at school and slapping TW across the face. (The kids, having been moved around countries for the past couple of years, and home-schooled part of the time, have no experience of such behaviour. Neither of them retaliated, being more confused and hurt than anything else. This kind of incident has rocked their naivety which, I’m sorry to say, is no bad thing, the world being what it is.)

The bus driver refused to give the boy’s name, and we were livid. After taking down the particulars of what happened from our kids, J charged down to the school first thing on Tuesday morning, ready to do battle and wave the “no bullying” policy in their faces. (It was decided that J should do it because he’s an orang putih (white man), but more about that in the second part of this blog.)

And he got the wind taken out of his sails completely. The Vice-Principal was utterly apologetic, explained that the young boy had already been told of punishment through a period of ostracisation, the bus driver informed, and parents told of consequences (J didn’t ask what they were, but we’re pretty sure it’s corporal punishment) should he repeat the behaviour. So, between the end of school on Monday, and the start of it on Tuesday, everything appeared to be settled. Subsequent bus trips have been uneventful, but we’re monitoring on an ongoing basis. That’s the good news.

Okay, so let’s get to the orang putih bit. If I want something down in this part of the world, I get J to do it. The hierarchy of status around here goes something like this: white man, Asian man, white woman (depending on her position), Asian woman. Sometimes, the white woman scores below the Asian woman, but not in casual encounters. The result of this is a lack of courtesy that drives me insane.

The men here see absolutely no problem in charging first into the elevator or a room or a queue of any sort. J tells me that, where he works in Singapore, the women always tell him to get into the elevator first and are stunned when he holds back and insists that they precede him. In a recent encounter, J and I were joining a male and his two female cohorts in the car. When J made to offer me the front seat, the man told him not to be silly. “You’re the man,” he said bluntly, in front of all of us. “You should be in the front.” “And that’s okay,” I replied sweetly, “because if we’re involved in a crash, you’ll cushion the impact.” Needless to say, Zaharin and I are not subsequently on the best of terms.

It’s the same in the corporate environment. I’m often the peer (or higher) of the suits I normally rub shoulders with, yet I’m relegated to invisibility status purely because I’m a woman. It doesn’t help that I have brown skin. When we go to a restaurant, the menu gets given to the males first. The drinks get given to the males first. The door is opened for the male; if I’m in front, or alone, I have to struggle with it myself. And it doesn’t seem confined to one race. If they’re Asian, chances are they’re chauvinists. Chinese, Malay, Indian, Korean, Japanese. The occasional skerrick, the single grain, of courtesy that I get from the rare Asian man only serves to highlight the fact that better behaviour is possible, but just not important enough for anyone else to emulate.

Do you know what impression you give, gentlemen? Not only to Western-educated women like me, but to Western businessmen as well? That you’re primitive fucks. (I do believe that’s the first time I’ve sworn in this blog, and please forgive me, but this is an emotional subject for me.) You want to know why Americans and Europeans hold you in some contempt? It’s because of your combination of sleazy toadying to them and arrogant sexism towards women. It’s the mark of bullies, not mature adults. The Westerners may discuss serious things with you, but they’re laughing at you behind your backs. I know, because I’ve been party to such discussions. I’ve even received apologies from some of them on behalf of thoughtless behaviour from their Asian colleagues. So let’s just say you aren’t making yourself any fans here, boys.

As for Asian women? Well, if they continue to accept this behaviour, then they’re nothing more than doormats who deserve to be stepped on. I don’t accept this behaviour. Neither does J. We are both appalled by the singular lack of manners in this region. But we’re also appalled by the fact that the women just seem to accept it. We don’t, but we’re specks in a sea of entrenched chauvinism. I don’t put up with such behaviour but will my actions to redress the balance make the slightest bit of difference? I don’t think so. In which case, should I even continue trying? I feel like Canute with his insight into kingly power. Fight something I know I will never change, or ignore it? What do you think?