Dec 19, 2007
Boy who wants to be a pilot scores high the Express way
He nets a record in Normal (Technical) stream using books meant for higher level
By Jane Ng
A HARD WORKER: Selwyn Sim, 16, studied from 10pm to 3am every night for eight months.
SELWYN Sim is in the Normal (Technical) stream but he worked on assessment books for those from the Express stream because he is a self-starter who aims high.
Yesterday, the efforts of the 16-year-old Pasir Ris Secondary student paid off.
His aggregate score of three points in the N-level exams was the best ever in the 10-year history of the N(T) stream, which is considered the weakest stream in the secondary school system.
He scored Grade 1 for all his subjects except Chinese, for which he scored a Grade 4.
No N(T) student has ever scored a Grade 1 for both English and Mathematics.
The aggregate is based on the grades for English, Mathematics and a best subject.
If Selwyn had achieved these results three years ago, he would have been the first N(T) student to have made it straight to Secondary 5 and the O levels.
But the system has since been changed and now N(T) students who do well enough can do a lateral transfer - first to Secondary 4 Normal (Academic) to sit for the N levels, before moving on to sit for the O levels in Secondary 5.
To do so, they have to achieve a mean grade of two or better for all N(T) subjects in the same sitting.
Selwyn's outstanding results were not due to luck.
The consistent worker studied from 10pm to 3am every night for eight months before the N-level exams, waking up at 5.30am to go to school.
He would look for books in the public library relating to science topics he did not understand.
To improve on Chinese, his weakest subject, he would learn from Primary 6 textbooks 'because there's hanyu pinyin' with the passages.
His form teacher, Mr Andrew Lim, and principal, Miss Cheng Hwee Yeang, were impressed.
Said Mr Lim: 'While other N(T) students would wait to be told what to do, he would seek out answers for himself.
'Two weeks before the exams, he wanted to organise a speed-reading class for his classmates, saying that might help them do better in the exams.'
Miss Cheng said she noticed Selwyn when he was in Secondary 3, when she gave his class a pep talk. He spoke to her afterwards, asking her advice on working towards sitting for the O levels.
Beyond his schoolwork, he was a student councillor and active in co-curricular activities, holding leadership positions as vice-chairman in taekwondo and the Red Cross Society.
Saturdays and Sundays were spent volunteering at his church, cleaning the hall before and after services.
Selwyn, who hopes to be a pilot, wants to pursue the aerospace course at the Institute of Technical Education.
He has yet to decide whether to take up the lateral transfer option which will let him take the O levels in two years' time.
Selwyn is the youngest child of a security supervisor and a secretary. His older brother, 22, is an IT support officer, and his older sister, 19, is an undergraduate.
Selwyn's beaming father, Mr Sim Chor Chye, 51, said: 'Many people think that N(T) students are weak in studies but when given a chance, they can do as well as, if not better than, those from other streams.
'Selwyn has led the way.'
Saturday, December 22, 2007
Half qualify for Higher Nitec courses
Half qualify for Higher Nitec courses
ONE in two Normal (Academic) students who took their N-level exams this year will be allowed to skip one year of school and head into higher-level technical courses.
Under new rules, some 6,502 out of 11,653 Secondary 4 N(A) students are eligible for direct entry into courses like engineering or applied and health sciences at the Institute of Technical Education (ITE), said the Ministry of Education.
Previously, they had to take the O levels in Secondary5 before they could enrol in a Higher National ITE Certificate (Nitec) course.
To qualify for direct entry, students have to score an aggregate of not more than 19 for English, Maths and three other subjects, with at least a Grade 4 in English and Maths.
Out of the 6,502 students, about half can opt for the more demanding business courses, which require students to score at least a Grade 3 in English.
Students can apply for the course of their choice on the ITE website (www.ite.edu.sg)
ONE in two Normal (Academic) students who took their N-level exams this year will be allowed to skip one year of school and head into higher-level technical courses.
Under new rules, some 6,502 out of 11,653 Secondary 4 N(A) students are eligible for direct entry into courses like engineering or applied and health sciences at the Institute of Technical Education (ITE), said the Ministry of Education.
Previously, they had to take the O levels in Secondary5 before they could enrol in a Higher National ITE Certificate (Nitec) course.
To qualify for direct entry, students have to score an aggregate of not more than 19 for English, Maths and three other subjects, with at least a Grade 4 in English and Maths.
Out of the 6,502 students, about half can opt for the more demanding business courses, which require students to score at least a Grade 3 in English.
Students can apply for the course of their choice on the ITE website (www.ite.edu.sg)
Golden trash
Dec 21, 2007
Vatican condemns The Golden Compass
'ANTI-CHRISTMAS': The Vatican says the movie promotes a cold and hopeless world without God. -- PHOTO: WARNER BROS
VATICAN CITY - The Vatican has criticised the American children's film, The Golden Compass, saying it is 'anti-Christmas' and promotes a cold and hopeless world without God.
In a long editorial on Wednesday, the Vatican newspaper l'Osservatore Romano also slammed Philip Pullman, the best-selling British author of the book on which the movie is based.
It was the Vatican's most stinging broadside against an author and a film since it roundly condemned The Da Vinci Code in 2005 and last year.
'In Pullman's world, hope simply does not exist, because there is no salvation but only personal, individualistic capacity to control the situation and dominate events,' the editorial said.
The film, which premiered earlier this month in the United States and stars Nicole Kidman and Daniel Craig, is an adaptation of Pullman's acclaimed novel, Northern Lights.
The editorial said 'honest' viewers would find it 'devoid of any particular emotion apart from a great chill'.
In the fantasy world in Pullman's His Dark Materials trilogy, the Church and its governing body, the Magisterium, are linked to cruel experiments on children aimed at discovering the nature of sin and attempts to suppress facts that would undermine the Church's legitimacy and power.
In the film, all references to the Church have been stripped, with director Chris Weitz keen to avoid offending religious cinema goers.
Still, some Catholic groups in the US have called for a boycott, fearing even a diluted version of the book might draw people to read the best-selling trilogy.
The Vatican newspaper called the movie 'the most anti-Christmas film possible' and said that it was 'consoling' that its first weekend ticket sales in the US were a disappointing US$26 million (S$38 million).
The film, packed with special effects, cost US$150 million to make.
AFP, Reuters
Vatican condemns The Golden Compass
'ANTI-CHRISTMAS': The Vatican says the movie promotes a cold and hopeless world without God. -- PHOTO: WARNER BROS
VATICAN CITY - The Vatican has criticised the American children's film, The Golden Compass, saying it is 'anti-Christmas' and promotes a cold and hopeless world without God.
In a long editorial on Wednesday, the Vatican newspaper l'Osservatore Romano also slammed Philip Pullman, the best-selling British author of the book on which the movie is based.
It was the Vatican's most stinging broadside against an author and a film since it roundly condemned The Da Vinci Code in 2005 and last year.
'In Pullman's world, hope simply does not exist, because there is no salvation but only personal, individualistic capacity to control the situation and dominate events,' the editorial said.
The film, which premiered earlier this month in the United States and stars Nicole Kidman and Daniel Craig, is an adaptation of Pullman's acclaimed novel, Northern Lights.
The editorial said 'honest' viewers would find it 'devoid of any particular emotion apart from a great chill'.
In the fantasy world in Pullman's His Dark Materials trilogy, the Church and its governing body, the Magisterium, are linked to cruel experiments on children aimed at discovering the nature of sin and attempts to suppress facts that would undermine the Church's legitimacy and power.
In the film, all references to the Church have been stripped, with director Chris Weitz keen to avoid offending religious cinema goers.
Still, some Catholic groups in the US have called for a boycott, fearing even a diluted version of the book might draw people to read the best-selling trilogy.
The Vatican newspaper called the movie 'the most anti-Christmas film possible' and said that it was 'consoling' that its first weekend ticket sales in the US were a disappointing US$26 million (S$38 million).
The film, packed with special effects, cost US$150 million to make.
AFP, Reuters
Teens' Wild Nights Out
Dec 16, 2007
Teens' Wild Nights Out
Parents are often unaware of the drinking, sex and even drug use at teens' parties
By Melody Zaccheus
WHILE SOME TEENS insist that their parties are just healthy fun, such gatherings can easily get out of hand and counsellors say parents need to get in tune with their children and be alert to telltale signs of problems. -- POSED PHOTO: NG SOR LUAN
IT'S a Friday and Tina is dressed to the hilt for a night out with her friends.
They had finished their O-level exams a few weeks ago and have been partying hard since then.
'Where are you going, dressed like that?' her mum asks in a concerned voice.
'Don't worry, mum, I am just going for a gathering at Sarah's place,' came the quick reply.
The mention of Sarah, a regular visitor at Tina's home and her classmate for the past four years, allays the parent's fears.
But Sarah's party at the clubhouse in her condo is no innocent gathering of a classroom of bookworms looking to have some nice clean fun.
Friends bring friends and boyfriends who come well stocked with booze and cigarettes to last the night.
These teens give their parents the slip quite easily. Mention that it's a party at a friend's place and there is seldom any problem, they say. Parents feel relatively safe and relax rules on staying out if they know the party is at a friend's place.
Student Amy, 15, has been attending three or four such parties a year since she was 14.
And she lies to her parents every time she attends one. When she went to the latest one last month at a friend's house, her parents thought she was at a school camp.
She was away from home for three days and two nights, preparing for the party and recovering from her hangover later. 'My parents will flip if they ever found out the truth,' she said.
Especially if they find out that on all of these occasions, she had drunk herself silly.
Amy said: 'I get drunk to experience a night of carefree fun. Even though I suffer from a hangover the next day, I find drinking a good way to release stress.'
Amy claims to know her boundaries. For instance, drugs are a no-go and the worst thing she has done is 'run off to make out with a stranger' when intoxicated.
Others, however, have seen far worse happening at such parties.
Fashion student John, 19, said: 'At a party I attended, a pair of teenagers who barely looked 18 were all over each other, having sex along the hallway. They were drunk, the girl's make-up was completely smudged and the guy was all over her.
'Their body parts were exposed and they were doing it in full view of 65 other people at the party.'
At such parties - usually held at condominium barbecue pits, chalets or private homes - complaints from neighbours and visits from the police are common.
These parties often begin at 7pm and sometimes stretch till 6am.
Food is usually catered or pizza ordered in, with music coming from an iPod plugged into a speaker set.
Junior College student, Stacey, 17, has witnessed fights at such parties. 'A few boys were kicking and punching each other. There was a lot of blood. I was terrified and fled.'
While some parents are clueless about their children's activities, some feel their children are old enough to take care of themselves and leave them very much on their own.
Polytechnic student David said he has been given a lot of freedom since completing secondary school.
The 17-year-old has no problems staying out late. All his parents would say to him is 'don't go overboard partying', he said.
But giving teens total freedom may not be the way to go, some counsellors say.
Youth Guidance Outreach Services programme director Gn Chiang Tat, 57, said: 'I don't think you can stop a teenager from being a teenager - it's a defiant phase. He'll definitely find a way to meet his friends no matter what kind of measures you take.'
But parents need to start getting in tune with their children, Mr Gn said. 'If the teen is looking for some way of release, and if he doesn't have a close relationship with his mum and dad, what's going to stop him from smoking, drinking, having sex and consuming drugs behind their backs?'
Counsellor Edward Rajeshwar from Tekka Community Services said parents should learn how to pick up telltale signs.
'The drinks he chugs down, the cigarettes he puffs and the party drugs he consumes will influence and negatively affect the teen's moods aside from the typical physical symptoms like bloodshot eyes, slurring and a weaker constitution,' he said. 'Parents must always be alert to these.'
Mr Rajeshwar added that parents of party organisers should also assume responsibility in ensuring that these gatherings do not get out of hand. Laying down the rules and boundaries clearly to the attending teenagers would be one way to have some form of control over the party, he said.
But what appears like living on the edge to parents is healthy fun, many teens who attend such parties insist.
Polytechnic student Bernard, 17, said: 'Sex and drugs do not always happen at these parties. But even if they did, we're mature enough to know how to handle ourselves.'
With a smirk, he added: 'What harm does a little tobacco and alcohol do?'
melodyzaccheus@gmail.com
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
'If the teen is looking for some way of release, and if he doesn't have a close relationship with his mum and dad, what's going to stop him from smoking, drinking, having sex and consuming drugs behind their backs?'
MR GN CHIANG TAT, Youth Guidance Outreach Services programme director
Teens' Wild Nights Out
Parents are often unaware of the drinking, sex and even drug use at teens' parties
By Melody Zaccheus
WHILE SOME TEENS insist that their parties are just healthy fun, such gatherings can easily get out of hand and counsellors say parents need to get in tune with their children and be alert to telltale signs of problems. -- POSED PHOTO: NG SOR LUAN
IT'S a Friday and Tina is dressed to the hilt for a night out with her friends.
They had finished their O-level exams a few weeks ago and have been partying hard since then.
'Where are you going, dressed like that?' her mum asks in a concerned voice.
'Don't worry, mum, I am just going for a gathering at Sarah's place,' came the quick reply.
The mention of Sarah, a regular visitor at Tina's home and her classmate for the past four years, allays the parent's fears.
But Sarah's party at the clubhouse in her condo is no innocent gathering of a classroom of bookworms looking to have some nice clean fun.
Friends bring friends and boyfriends who come well stocked with booze and cigarettes to last the night.
These teens give their parents the slip quite easily. Mention that it's a party at a friend's place and there is seldom any problem, they say. Parents feel relatively safe and relax rules on staying out if they know the party is at a friend's place.
Student Amy, 15, has been attending three or four such parties a year since she was 14.
And she lies to her parents every time she attends one. When she went to the latest one last month at a friend's house, her parents thought she was at a school camp.
She was away from home for three days and two nights, preparing for the party and recovering from her hangover later. 'My parents will flip if they ever found out the truth,' she said.
Especially if they find out that on all of these occasions, she had drunk herself silly.
Amy said: 'I get drunk to experience a night of carefree fun. Even though I suffer from a hangover the next day, I find drinking a good way to release stress.'
Amy claims to know her boundaries. For instance, drugs are a no-go and the worst thing she has done is 'run off to make out with a stranger' when intoxicated.
Others, however, have seen far worse happening at such parties.
Fashion student John, 19, said: 'At a party I attended, a pair of teenagers who barely looked 18 were all over each other, having sex along the hallway. They were drunk, the girl's make-up was completely smudged and the guy was all over her.
'Their body parts were exposed and they were doing it in full view of 65 other people at the party.'
At such parties - usually held at condominium barbecue pits, chalets or private homes - complaints from neighbours and visits from the police are common.
These parties often begin at 7pm and sometimes stretch till 6am.
Food is usually catered or pizza ordered in, with music coming from an iPod plugged into a speaker set.
Junior College student, Stacey, 17, has witnessed fights at such parties. 'A few boys were kicking and punching each other. There was a lot of blood. I was terrified and fled.'
While some parents are clueless about their children's activities, some feel their children are old enough to take care of themselves and leave them very much on their own.
Polytechnic student David said he has been given a lot of freedom since completing secondary school.
The 17-year-old has no problems staying out late. All his parents would say to him is 'don't go overboard partying', he said.
But giving teens total freedom may not be the way to go, some counsellors say.
Youth Guidance Outreach Services programme director Gn Chiang Tat, 57, said: 'I don't think you can stop a teenager from being a teenager - it's a defiant phase. He'll definitely find a way to meet his friends no matter what kind of measures you take.'
But parents need to start getting in tune with their children, Mr Gn said. 'If the teen is looking for some way of release, and if he doesn't have a close relationship with his mum and dad, what's going to stop him from smoking, drinking, having sex and consuming drugs behind their backs?'
Counsellor Edward Rajeshwar from Tekka Community Services said parents should learn how to pick up telltale signs.
'The drinks he chugs down, the cigarettes he puffs and the party drugs he consumes will influence and negatively affect the teen's moods aside from the typical physical symptoms like bloodshot eyes, slurring and a weaker constitution,' he said. 'Parents must always be alert to these.'
Mr Rajeshwar added that parents of party organisers should also assume responsibility in ensuring that these gatherings do not get out of hand. Laying down the rules and boundaries clearly to the attending teenagers would be one way to have some form of control over the party, he said.
But what appears like living on the edge to parents is healthy fun, many teens who attend such parties insist.
Polytechnic student Bernard, 17, said: 'Sex and drugs do not always happen at these parties. But even if they did, we're mature enough to know how to handle ourselves.'
With a smirk, he added: 'What harm does a little tobacco and alcohol do?'
melodyzaccheus@gmail.com
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
'If the teen is looking for some way of release, and if he doesn't have a close relationship with his mum and dad, what's going to stop him from smoking, drinking, having sex and consuming drugs behind their backs?'
MR GN CHIANG TAT, Youth Guidance Outreach Services programme director
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
New Asian Heroes - Peter Loh Paralysis
Rising to life's challenges
New Asian Heroes, an eight-part series on Asians who lead inspiring lives, kicks off with Peter Loh, who's determined to be financially independent despite being paralysed
By Wong Kim Hoh
HAPPY OUTLOOK: Peter Loh overcame his depression after being paralysed in an accident and now works from home for a bank with the help of his mother Monica Chong, who types his comments on the computer keyboard. -- ST PHOTOS: ALAN LIM
View more photos
LIFE has a very cruel sense of irony sometimes.
On Sept 11, 1994, Peter Loh, then 22, was supposed to meet an insurance agent. His mother, Madam Monica Chong, had arranged for the agent to recommend him some policies.
She had to cancel the appointment.
On that day, Loh dived into the swimming pool at the former Non-Commissioned Officers' (NCO) club in Beach Road and broke his neck.
The accident severely damaged his spinal cord. He is now confined to a motorised wheelchair, paralysed from the neck down.
It was a cruel blow to the athletic young man, who was then taking a break from his electrical engineering studies at Carnegie Mellon University in Pittsburgh in the United States to complete his national service.
The Hwa Chong Junior College alumnus, a keen canoeist and swimmer, remembers the day well.
He had arranged to meet a friend for dinner after giving a swimming lesson at the club.
'I had some time to kill so I decided to jump into the pool for a few laps,' says Loh, now a DBS bank executive.
He plunged in from the shallow end, something he says he had done numerous times before. But this time, he could taste blood.
'I probably broke my teeth,' he says during the interview in his family home, a four-room HDB flat in Tampines.
An alert swimming coach helped pull him out.
Although he was conscious throughout the ordeal, he says that he cannot remember more.
'It's not something I keep thinking of, as you can imagine,' the 35-year-old says with some difficulty, eyes brimming with tears.
Madam Chong, 63, adds: 'When we rushed to the hospital to see him, he just kept saying, 'Mum, I'm sorry.' '
The former secretary and her retired civil servant husband insisted on a complex operation even though doctors were not optimistic about their son's survival. They have a younger son, Joshua, 32, a manager in a property company.
Madam Chong says: 'I said that even if the success rate was just 1 per cent, I wanted him to have a shot.'
Loh stayed in hospital for the next 11/2 years. During this time, his parents would smuggle in acupuncturists and Chinese physicians, never turning down any option to save their son from life in a wheelchair.
It was a dark period for Loh, who was suicidal for the first few months.
He says: 'Every time I had an infection, I'd say, 'Let this be the one.' '
His mother nods, adding: 'He always said then, 'If I could use my hands, I would kill myself.' '
It was the love and support of his family, relatives and friends that pulled Loh, a Catholic, through.
Cousins, aunts and uncles often kept him company.
Strangers and 'friends of friends' who had heard about his mishap also turned up to pray for him.
Once he had come to terms with his condition, he says his practical and competitive instincts took over.
'I decided I wanted to be financially independent,' he says. 'Since I had some credits from Carnegie Mellon, I decided I would get a degree and find myself a job.'
He wrote to the National University of Singapore in 1996, hoping to study electrical engineering, like he had done in Carnegie Mellon.
The professor who visited and interviewed him at the hospital suggested computer science instead.
He took up the challenge.
'I could not just study for the sake of interest, I had to do something which would land me a job.'
He was a determined student. The family maid accompanied him to lectures three times a week, either in a Handicaps Welfare Association ambulance or a London cab. She helped him record lectures, which his mother or aunt would then transcribe.
'I had friends who volunteered to help me photocopy notes or borrow books for research,' he adds. 'I asked a lot of questions; one professor even gave me his phone number because he knew he wouldn't be able to answer all my questions during office hours.'
The tenacity paid off handsomely.
He bagged the Lee Kuan Yew Gold Medal, awarded to the best student in the Bachelor of Computer and Information Science degree programme for 1998/9.
'The degree was my insurance policy, the prize, my rider,' he jokes, using the insurance jargon for additional coverage.
After graduation, he wrote many job application letters.
'I 'signed' them with my thumbprint, since I could not use my hands. I was apprehensive that I would get many rejections,' says Loh who can manoeuvre the control of his motorised wheelchair with the help of a splint.
His fears were unfounded. Several employers came to his home to interview him. Soon after, he landed his first job - as a research assistant in an NUS computer laboratory.
He left soon after to become an applications engineer for SpeechWorks, a software company. It was a job he held for more than four years until the company was bought over and had its operations moved to Australia.
He worked briefly in another software company before DBS hired him about three years ago. He is part of the group strategic marketing and communications team, managing and editing content for the bank's Intranet network.
He works from home but goes to the bank's Shenton Way offices at least once a week to attend meetings.
He has access to a voice recognition software, but says he relies mostly on his mother.
He dictates, and she executes all his commands on the keyboard.
'He's a tough boss,' she jokes.
Asked if he shares his bonus with her, he says with a cackle: 'Of course.'
Indeed his mother is his biggest crutch and support.
She says: 'My husband sometimes worries and asks me, 'What will happen to him when we are gone?'
'I don't want to think of that scenario. We won't even know what will happen to us tomorrow so why worry? I know God will take care of him.'
Loh, who loves spicy food and enjoys watching Cantonese drama serials and listening to music, is equally pragmatic.
'In the worst case scenario, I will go to a nursing home. Hopefully, my income and savings will allow me to do that.'
He then says chirpily: 'You know what? I am more worried about delivering on my KPIs (key performance indicators).'
kimhoh@sph.com.sg
New Asian Heroes is brought to you by DBS.
New Asian Heroes, an eight-part series on Asians who lead inspiring lives, kicks off with Peter Loh, who's determined to be financially independent despite being paralysed
By Wong Kim Hoh
HAPPY OUTLOOK: Peter Loh overcame his depression after being paralysed in an accident and now works from home for a bank with the help of his mother Monica Chong, who types his comments on the computer keyboard. -- ST PHOTOS: ALAN LIM
View more photos
LIFE has a very cruel sense of irony sometimes.
On Sept 11, 1994, Peter Loh, then 22, was supposed to meet an insurance agent. His mother, Madam Monica Chong, had arranged for the agent to recommend him some policies.
She had to cancel the appointment.
On that day, Loh dived into the swimming pool at the former Non-Commissioned Officers' (NCO) club in Beach Road and broke his neck.
The accident severely damaged his spinal cord. He is now confined to a motorised wheelchair, paralysed from the neck down.
It was a cruel blow to the athletic young man, who was then taking a break from his electrical engineering studies at Carnegie Mellon University in Pittsburgh in the United States to complete his national service.
The Hwa Chong Junior College alumnus, a keen canoeist and swimmer, remembers the day well.
He had arranged to meet a friend for dinner after giving a swimming lesson at the club.
'I had some time to kill so I decided to jump into the pool for a few laps,' says Loh, now a DBS bank executive.
He plunged in from the shallow end, something he says he had done numerous times before. But this time, he could taste blood.
'I probably broke my teeth,' he says during the interview in his family home, a four-room HDB flat in Tampines.
An alert swimming coach helped pull him out.
Although he was conscious throughout the ordeal, he says that he cannot remember more.
'It's not something I keep thinking of, as you can imagine,' the 35-year-old says with some difficulty, eyes brimming with tears.
Madam Chong, 63, adds: 'When we rushed to the hospital to see him, he just kept saying, 'Mum, I'm sorry.' '
The former secretary and her retired civil servant husband insisted on a complex operation even though doctors were not optimistic about their son's survival. They have a younger son, Joshua, 32, a manager in a property company.
Madam Chong says: 'I said that even if the success rate was just 1 per cent, I wanted him to have a shot.'
Loh stayed in hospital for the next 11/2 years. During this time, his parents would smuggle in acupuncturists and Chinese physicians, never turning down any option to save their son from life in a wheelchair.
It was a dark period for Loh, who was suicidal for the first few months.
He says: 'Every time I had an infection, I'd say, 'Let this be the one.' '
His mother nods, adding: 'He always said then, 'If I could use my hands, I would kill myself.' '
It was the love and support of his family, relatives and friends that pulled Loh, a Catholic, through.
Cousins, aunts and uncles often kept him company.
Strangers and 'friends of friends' who had heard about his mishap also turned up to pray for him.
Once he had come to terms with his condition, he says his practical and competitive instincts took over.
'I decided I wanted to be financially independent,' he says. 'Since I had some credits from Carnegie Mellon, I decided I would get a degree and find myself a job.'
He wrote to the National University of Singapore in 1996, hoping to study electrical engineering, like he had done in Carnegie Mellon.
The professor who visited and interviewed him at the hospital suggested computer science instead.
He took up the challenge.
'I could not just study for the sake of interest, I had to do something which would land me a job.'
He was a determined student. The family maid accompanied him to lectures three times a week, either in a Handicaps Welfare Association ambulance or a London cab. She helped him record lectures, which his mother or aunt would then transcribe.
'I had friends who volunteered to help me photocopy notes or borrow books for research,' he adds. 'I asked a lot of questions; one professor even gave me his phone number because he knew he wouldn't be able to answer all my questions during office hours.'
The tenacity paid off handsomely.
He bagged the Lee Kuan Yew Gold Medal, awarded to the best student in the Bachelor of Computer and Information Science degree programme for 1998/9.
'The degree was my insurance policy, the prize, my rider,' he jokes, using the insurance jargon for additional coverage.
After graduation, he wrote many job application letters.
'I 'signed' them with my thumbprint, since I could not use my hands. I was apprehensive that I would get many rejections,' says Loh who can manoeuvre the control of his motorised wheelchair with the help of a splint.
His fears were unfounded. Several employers came to his home to interview him. Soon after, he landed his first job - as a research assistant in an NUS computer laboratory.
He left soon after to become an applications engineer for SpeechWorks, a software company. It was a job he held for more than four years until the company was bought over and had its operations moved to Australia.
He worked briefly in another software company before DBS hired him about three years ago. He is part of the group strategic marketing and communications team, managing and editing content for the bank's Intranet network.
He works from home but goes to the bank's Shenton Way offices at least once a week to attend meetings.
He has access to a voice recognition software, but says he relies mostly on his mother.
He dictates, and she executes all his commands on the keyboard.
'He's a tough boss,' she jokes.
Asked if he shares his bonus with her, he says with a cackle: 'Of course.'
Indeed his mother is his biggest crutch and support.
She says: 'My husband sometimes worries and asks me, 'What will happen to him when we are gone?'
'I don't want to think of that scenario. We won't even know what will happen to us tomorrow so why worry? I know God will take care of him.'
Loh, who loves spicy food and enjoys watching Cantonese drama serials and listening to music, is equally pragmatic.
'In the worst case scenario, I will go to a nursing home. Hopefully, my income and savings will allow me to do that.'
He then says chirpily: 'You know what? I am more worried about delivering on my KPIs (key performance indicators).'
kimhoh@sph.com.sg
New Asian Heroes is brought to you by DBS.
THE CELEBRATED NOBEL PRIZE
THE CELEBRATED NOBEL PRIZE
A hint of ignobility
By ROBERT MARC FRIEDMAN
Dec 10
THE dance around the golden Nobel medallion began over 100 years ago, and is still going strong. As icon, myth and ritual, the Nobel Prize is well secured. But what do we actually know about the Nobel Prize?
Shrouded in secrecy and legend, the Nobel Prize first became an object for serious study after 1976 when the Nobel Foundation opened its archives. Research by historians leaves little doubt: the Nobel medallion is etched with human frailties.
Although observers accept a degree of subjectivity in the literature and peace prizes, the science prizes have long been assumed to be an objective measure of excellence. But from the start, the Royal Swedish Academy of Sciences, which awards the physics and chemistry prizes, and the Caroline Institute, which awards those for medicine/physiology, have based their decisions on the recommendations of their respective committees. And the committee members' own understanding of science has been critical in determining outcomes.
From the beginning, the inner world of those entrusted to make recommendations was marked by personal and principled discord over how to interpret Alfred Nobel's cryptic will and to whom prizes should be awarded. While committee members tried to be dispassionate, their own judgment, predilections and interests necessarily entered into their work, and some championed their own agendas.
Winning a Nobel Prize has never been an automatic process, a reward that comes with having attained a magical level of achievement. Designated nominators rarely provided committees with a clear consensus, and the committees often ignored the rare mandates when a single strongly nominated candidate did appear, such as Albert Einstein for his work on relativity theory.
Academy physicists had no intention of recognising this theoretical achievement 'even if the whole world demands it'. The prize is a Swedish prerogative. (Einstein instead was awarded the physics prize in 1921 'for his services to theoretical physics, and especially for his discovery of the law of the photoelectric effect.')
A simple change in the committee's composition could decide a candidate's fate. Not until committee strongman C.W. Oseen died in 1944 could the theoretical physicist Wolfgang Pauli - one of the giants of quantum mechanics - receive a prize. Conversely, the Academy of Sciences sometimes rebelled against its committees. Harbouring a grudge, one chemist rallied the academy to block the committee's recommendation for the Russian Dmitry Mendeleyev, who created the periodic table.
Even when all involved tried to rise above pettiness and partiality, selecting winners was always difficult - and remains so. Committee members occasionally confessed privately that often several candidates could be found who equally deserved a prize. Unambiguous, impartial criteria for selecting a winner were not at hand - and never will be.
The image of science advancing through the efforts of individual genius is, of course, appealing. Yet, to a greater extent than the prizes allow, research progresses through the work of many.
Brilliant minds do matter, but it is often inappropriate and unjust to limit recognition to so few when so many extremely talented scientists may have contributed to a given breakthrough. The Nobel by-laws do not allow splitting a prize into more than three parts, thereby excluding discoveries that entailed work by more than three researchers, or omitting key persons who equally deserved to share in the honour.
It has also become clear that many important branches of science are not addressed by Alfred Nobel's testament (limited to physics, chemistry, physiology/ medicine). Some of the past century's greatest intellectual triumphs, such as those related to the expanding universe and continental drift, have not been celebrated. Environmental sciences - surely of fundamental importance - also come up empty. It is right to want heroes in science, but we should understand the criteria used to select those whom we are asked to revere.
Why do people venerate the Nobel Prize? There is no easy answer. The cult of the prize began even before the first winners were announced. Media fascination whipped up speculation and interest. The creed of the prize did not depend so much on the merit of the winners as much as the understanding that the prize was a powerful means to gain prestige and advantage.
Even scientists who frowned upon the Swedish committees' limitations and sometimes odd choices nevertheless still nominated and lobbied for candidates, knowing that a winner can draw attention and money to a research specialty, institution or national scientific community.
Is science or society well served by a fixation on prizes and on nurturing a culture of extreme competition? Perhaps once the mystery of the Nobel Prize is reduced, we might reflect on what is truly significant in science. The soul and heritage of science going back several centuries is far richer than the quest for prizes.
The writer, professor of the history of science at the University of Oslo, is the author of The Politics Of Excellence: Behind The Nobel Prize In Science.
Copyright: Project Syndicate
A hint of ignobility
By ROBERT MARC FRIEDMAN
Dec 10
THE dance around the golden Nobel medallion began over 100 years ago, and is still going strong. As icon, myth and ritual, the Nobel Prize is well secured. But what do we actually know about the Nobel Prize?
Shrouded in secrecy and legend, the Nobel Prize first became an object for serious study after 1976 when the Nobel Foundation opened its archives. Research by historians leaves little doubt: the Nobel medallion is etched with human frailties.
Although observers accept a degree of subjectivity in the literature and peace prizes, the science prizes have long been assumed to be an objective measure of excellence. But from the start, the Royal Swedish Academy of Sciences, which awards the physics and chemistry prizes, and the Caroline Institute, which awards those for medicine/physiology, have based their decisions on the recommendations of their respective committees. And the committee members' own understanding of science has been critical in determining outcomes.
From the beginning, the inner world of those entrusted to make recommendations was marked by personal and principled discord over how to interpret Alfred Nobel's cryptic will and to whom prizes should be awarded. While committee members tried to be dispassionate, their own judgment, predilections and interests necessarily entered into their work, and some championed their own agendas.
Winning a Nobel Prize has never been an automatic process, a reward that comes with having attained a magical level of achievement. Designated nominators rarely provided committees with a clear consensus, and the committees often ignored the rare mandates when a single strongly nominated candidate did appear, such as Albert Einstein for his work on relativity theory.
Academy physicists had no intention of recognising this theoretical achievement 'even if the whole world demands it'. The prize is a Swedish prerogative. (Einstein instead was awarded the physics prize in 1921 'for his services to theoretical physics, and especially for his discovery of the law of the photoelectric effect.')
A simple change in the committee's composition could decide a candidate's fate. Not until committee strongman C.W. Oseen died in 1944 could the theoretical physicist Wolfgang Pauli - one of the giants of quantum mechanics - receive a prize. Conversely, the Academy of Sciences sometimes rebelled against its committees. Harbouring a grudge, one chemist rallied the academy to block the committee's recommendation for the Russian Dmitry Mendeleyev, who created the periodic table.
Even when all involved tried to rise above pettiness and partiality, selecting winners was always difficult - and remains so. Committee members occasionally confessed privately that often several candidates could be found who equally deserved a prize. Unambiguous, impartial criteria for selecting a winner were not at hand - and never will be.
The image of science advancing through the efforts of individual genius is, of course, appealing. Yet, to a greater extent than the prizes allow, research progresses through the work of many.
Brilliant minds do matter, but it is often inappropriate and unjust to limit recognition to so few when so many extremely talented scientists may have contributed to a given breakthrough. The Nobel by-laws do not allow splitting a prize into more than three parts, thereby excluding discoveries that entailed work by more than three researchers, or omitting key persons who equally deserved to share in the honour.
It has also become clear that many important branches of science are not addressed by Alfred Nobel's testament (limited to physics, chemistry, physiology/ medicine). Some of the past century's greatest intellectual triumphs, such as those related to the expanding universe and continental drift, have not been celebrated. Environmental sciences - surely of fundamental importance - also come up empty. It is right to want heroes in science, but we should understand the criteria used to select those whom we are asked to revere.
Why do people venerate the Nobel Prize? There is no easy answer. The cult of the prize began even before the first winners were announced. Media fascination whipped up speculation and interest. The creed of the prize did not depend so much on the merit of the winners as much as the understanding that the prize was a powerful means to gain prestige and advantage.
Even scientists who frowned upon the Swedish committees' limitations and sometimes odd choices nevertheless still nominated and lobbied for candidates, knowing that a winner can draw attention and money to a research specialty, institution or national scientific community.
Is science or society well served by a fixation on prizes and on nurturing a culture of extreme competition? Perhaps once the mystery of the Nobel Prize is reduced, we might reflect on what is truly significant in science. The soul and heritage of science going back several centuries is far richer than the quest for prizes.
The writer, professor of the history of science at the University of Oslo, is the author of The Politics Of Excellence: Behind The Nobel Prize In Science.
Copyright: Project Syndicate
THE CELEBRATED NOBEL PRIZE
THE CELEBRATED NOBEL PRIZE
A hint of ignobility
By ROBERT MARC FRIEDMAN
Dec 10
THE dance around the golden Nobel medallion began over 100 years ago, and is still going strong. As icon, myth and ritual, the Nobel Prize is well secured. But what do we actually know about the Nobel Prize?
Shrouded in secrecy and legend, the Nobel Prize first became an object for serious study after 1976 when the Nobel Foundation opened its archives. Research by historians leaves little doubt: the Nobel medallion is etched with human frailties.
Although observers accept a degree of subjectivity in the literature and peace prizes, the science prizes have long been assumed to be an objective measure of excellence. But from the start, the Royal Swedish Academy of Sciences, which awards the physics and chemistry prizes, and the Caroline Institute, which awards those for medicine/physiology, have based their decisions on the recommendations of their respective committees. And the committee members' own understanding of science has been critical in determining outcomes.
From the beginning, the inner world of those entrusted to make recommendations was marked by personal and principled discord over how to interpret Alfred Nobel's cryptic will and to whom prizes should be awarded. While committee members tried to be dispassionate, their own judgment, predilections and interests necessarily entered into their work, and some championed their own agendas.
Winning a Nobel Prize has never been an automatic process, a reward that comes with having attained a magical level of achievement. Designated nominators rarely provided committees with a clear consensus, and the committees often ignored the rare mandates when a single strongly nominated candidate did appear, such as Albert Einstein for his work on relativity theory.
Academy physicists had no intention of recognising this theoretical achievement 'even if the whole world demands it'. The prize is a Swedish prerogative. (Einstein instead was awarded the physics prize in 1921 'for his services to theoretical physics, and especially for his discovery of the law of the photoelectric effect.')
A simple change in the committee's composition could decide a candidate's fate. Not until committee strongman C.W. Oseen died in 1944 could the theoretical physicist Wolfgang Pauli - one of the giants of quantum mechanics - receive a prize. Conversely, the Academy of Sciences sometimes rebelled against its committees. Harbouring a grudge, one chemist rallied the academy to block the committee's recommendation for the Russian Dmitry Mendeleyev, who created the periodic table.
Even when all involved tried to rise above pettiness and partiality, selecting winners was always difficult - and remains so. Committee members occasionally confessed privately that often several candidates could be found who equally deserved a prize. Unambiguous, impartial criteria for selecting a winner were not at hand - and never will be.
The image of science advancing through the efforts of individual genius is, of course, appealing. Yet, to a greater extent than the prizes allow, research progresses through the work of many.
Brilliant minds do matter, but it is often inappropriate and unjust to limit recognition to so few when so many extremely talented scientists may have contributed to a given breakthrough. The Nobel by-laws do not allow splitting a prize into more than three parts, thereby excluding discoveries that entailed work by more than three researchers, or omitting key persons who equally deserved to share in the honour.
It has also become clear that many important branches of science are not addressed by Alfred Nobel's testament (limited to physics, chemistry, physiology/ medicine). Some of the past century's greatest intellectual triumphs, such as those related to the expanding universe and continental drift, have not been celebrated. Environmental sciences - surely of fundamental importance - also come up empty. It is right to want heroes in science, but we should understand the criteria used to select those whom we are asked to revere.
Why do people venerate the Nobel Prize? There is no easy answer. The cult of the prize began even before the first winners were announced. Media fascination whipped up speculation and interest. The creed of the prize did not depend so much on the merit of the winners as much as the understanding that the prize was a powerful means to gain prestige and advantage.
Even scientists who frowned upon the Swedish committees' limitations and sometimes odd choices nevertheless still nominated and lobbied for candidates, knowing that a winner can draw attention and money to a research specialty, institution or national scientific community.
Is science or society well served by a fixation on prizes and on nurturing a culture of extreme competition? Perhaps once the mystery of the Nobel Prize is reduced, we might reflect on what is truly significant in science. The soul and heritage of science going back several centuries is far richer than the quest for prizes.
The writer, professor of the history of science at the University of Oslo, is the author of The Politics Of Excellence: Behind The Nobel Prize In Science.
Copyright: Project Syndicate
A hint of ignobility
By ROBERT MARC FRIEDMAN
Dec 10
THE dance around the golden Nobel medallion began over 100 years ago, and is still going strong. As icon, myth and ritual, the Nobel Prize is well secured. But what do we actually know about the Nobel Prize?
Shrouded in secrecy and legend, the Nobel Prize first became an object for serious study after 1976 when the Nobel Foundation opened its archives. Research by historians leaves little doubt: the Nobel medallion is etched with human frailties.
Although observers accept a degree of subjectivity in the literature and peace prizes, the science prizes have long been assumed to be an objective measure of excellence. But from the start, the Royal Swedish Academy of Sciences, which awards the physics and chemistry prizes, and the Caroline Institute, which awards those for medicine/physiology, have based their decisions on the recommendations of their respective committees. And the committee members' own understanding of science has been critical in determining outcomes.
From the beginning, the inner world of those entrusted to make recommendations was marked by personal and principled discord over how to interpret Alfred Nobel's cryptic will and to whom prizes should be awarded. While committee members tried to be dispassionate, their own judgment, predilections and interests necessarily entered into their work, and some championed their own agendas.
Winning a Nobel Prize has never been an automatic process, a reward that comes with having attained a magical level of achievement. Designated nominators rarely provided committees with a clear consensus, and the committees often ignored the rare mandates when a single strongly nominated candidate did appear, such as Albert Einstein for his work on relativity theory.
Academy physicists had no intention of recognising this theoretical achievement 'even if the whole world demands it'. The prize is a Swedish prerogative. (Einstein instead was awarded the physics prize in 1921 'for his services to theoretical physics, and especially for his discovery of the law of the photoelectric effect.')
A simple change in the committee's composition could decide a candidate's fate. Not until committee strongman C.W. Oseen died in 1944 could the theoretical physicist Wolfgang Pauli - one of the giants of quantum mechanics - receive a prize. Conversely, the Academy of Sciences sometimes rebelled against its committees. Harbouring a grudge, one chemist rallied the academy to block the committee's recommendation for the Russian Dmitry Mendeleyev, who created the periodic table.
Even when all involved tried to rise above pettiness and partiality, selecting winners was always difficult - and remains so. Committee members occasionally confessed privately that often several candidates could be found who equally deserved a prize. Unambiguous, impartial criteria for selecting a winner were not at hand - and never will be.
The image of science advancing through the efforts of individual genius is, of course, appealing. Yet, to a greater extent than the prizes allow, research progresses through the work of many.
Brilliant minds do matter, but it is often inappropriate and unjust to limit recognition to so few when so many extremely talented scientists may have contributed to a given breakthrough. The Nobel by-laws do not allow splitting a prize into more than three parts, thereby excluding discoveries that entailed work by more than three researchers, or omitting key persons who equally deserved to share in the honour.
It has also become clear that many important branches of science are not addressed by Alfred Nobel's testament (limited to physics, chemistry, physiology/ medicine). Some of the past century's greatest intellectual triumphs, such as those related to the expanding universe and continental drift, have not been celebrated. Environmental sciences - surely of fundamental importance - also come up empty. It is right to want heroes in science, but we should understand the criteria used to select those whom we are asked to revere.
Why do people venerate the Nobel Prize? There is no easy answer. The cult of the prize began even before the first winners were announced. Media fascination whipped up speculation and interest. The creed of the prize did not depend so much on the merit of the winners as much as the understanding that the prize was a powerful means to gain prestige and advantage.
Even scientists who frowned upon the Swedish committees' limitations and sometimes odd choices nevertheless still nominated and lobbied for candidates, knowing that a winner can draw attention and money to a research specialty, institution or national scientific community.
Is science or society well served by a fixation on prizes and on nurturing a culture of extreme competition? Perhaps once the mystery of the Nobel Prize is reduced, we might reflect on what is truly significant in science. The soul and heritage of science going back several centuries is far richer than the quest for prizes.
The writer, professor of the history of science at the University of Oslo, is the author of The Politics Of Excellence: Behind The Nobel Prize In Science.
Copyright: Project Syndicate
DYSLEXIA AND ENTREPRENEURIAL SUCCESS
Dec 10, 2007
DYSLEXIA AND ENTREPRENEURIAL SUCCESS
Capitalising on a little disadvantage
By Brent Bowers
IT HAS long been known that dyslexics are drawn to running their own businesses, where they can get around their weaknesses in reading and writing and play on their strengths. But a new study of entrepreneurs in the US suggests that dyslexia is much more common among small- business owners than even the experts had thought.
The report, compiled by Ms Julie Logan, a professor of entrepreneurship at the Cass Business School in London, found that more than a third of the entrepreneurs she had surveyed - 35 per cent - identified themselves as dyslexic.
The study also found dyslexics to be more likely than non-dyslexics to delegate authority and excel in oral communication and problem solving, and were twice as likely to own two or more businesses.
'We found that dyslexics who succeed had overcome an awful lot in their lives by developing compensatory skills,' Professor Logan said.
'If you tell your friends and acquaintances that you plan to start a business, you'll hear over and over, 'It won't work. It can't be done'. But dyslexics are extraordinarily creative about manoeuvring their way around problems.'
The study was based on a survey of 139 business owners in a wide range of fields across the United States. Prof Logan called the number who said they were dyslexic 'staggering', and said it was significantly higher than the 20 per cent of British entrepreneurs who said they were dyslexic in a poll she did in 2001.
She attributed the greater share in the US to earlier and more effective intervention by American schools to help dyslexic students deal with their learning problems. About 10 per cent of Americans are believed to have dyslexia, experts say.
One reason that dyslexics are drawn to entrepreneurship, Prof Logan said, is that strategies they have used since childhood to offset their weaknesses in written communication and organisational ability - identifying trustworthy people and handing over major responsibilities to them - can be applied to businesses.
'The willingness to delegate authority gives them a significant advantage over non-dyslexic entrepreneurs, who tend to view their business as their baby and like to be in total control,' she said.
Mr William Dennis, senior research fellow at the Research Foundation of the National Federation of Independent Business, a trade group in Washington, said the study's results 'fit into the pattern of what we know about small- business owners'.
'Entrepreneurs are hands- on people who push a minimum of paper, do lots of stuff orally instead of reading and writing, and delegate authority, all of which suggests a high verbal facility,' he said.
'Compare that with corporate managers who read, read, read.'
Indeed, according to Prof Logan, only 1 per cent of corporate managers in the US have dyslexia.
Much has been written about the link between dyslexia and entrepreneurial success. Fortune Magazine, for example, ran a cover story five years ago about dyslexic business leaders, including Mr Richard Branson, founder of Virgin Atlantic Airways; Mr Charles R. Schwab, founder of the discount brokerage firm that bears his name; Mr John T. Chambers, chief executive of Cisco; and Mr Paul Orfalea, founder of the Kinko's copy chain.
But Prof Logan said hers was the first study she knew of that tried to measure the percentage of entrepreneurs with dyslexia. Mr Carl Schramm, president of the Kauffman Foundation, which financed the research, agreed. But he said that although the study's findings were surprising, there was no previous baseline to measure it against.
Mr Emerson Dickman, president of the International Dyslexia Association and a lawyer, said the study's findings 'just make sense'.
'Individuals who have difficulty reading and writing tend to deploy other strengths,' said Mr Dickman, who has dyslexia.
'They rely on mentors and so become very good at reading other people and delegating duties to them. They become adept at using visual strengths to solve problems.'
Mr Orfalea, 60, who left Kinko's - now FedEx Kinko's - seven years ago, now dabbles in a hodge-podge of business undertakings. He is almost proud of having dyslexia and attention deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADD).
'I get bored easily, and that is a great motivator. I think everybody should have dyslexia and ADD,' he said.
He attributes his business success to his difficulty with reading and writing because it forced him to master verbal communication. 'I didn't have a lot of self-confidence as a kid,' he said.
'And that is for the good. If you have a healthy dose of rejection in your life, you are going to have to figure out how to do it your way.'
He said his biggest advantage was his realisation that because of his many inadequacies, he had to delegate important tasks. 'My motto is: Anybody else can do anything better than me.'
Mr Danny Kessler, 26, also has dyslexia and ADD. He founded Angels with Attitude, which holds seminars for women on self-defence. He is a co-founder of Club E Network, which sponsors 'networking events', runs an online chat room for entrepreneurs and produces television shows about them.
Like Mr Orfalea, he said he had low self-esteem as a child, and now views that as a catapult into the entrepreneurial world. 'I told myself I would never be a lawyer or a doctor. But I wanted to make a lot of money. And I knew business was the only way I was going to do it,' he said.
In high school, Mr Kessler said, 'I became cool with the teachers. I developed a rapport with them. I was able to convince almost all of them to nudge my grade up just a bit. I adopted a strategy for squeezing through the system'.
As for the importance of entrusting tasks to others, Mr Kessler said his limitations endowed him with a 'razor sharp' intuition that allows him to ascertain within minutes of meeting people whether he can depend on them and what they would be good at in an organisation.
Mr Drew Devitt, 45, who also has dyslexia, said he started Thoughtware Products in college to produce videos for real estate brokers. Today, he runs a successful US$9 million (S$13 million) company called New Way Air Bearings that makes bearings for precision machine tools.
He also indirectly confirmed giving free rein to his deputies. Asked about the claim on his company's website that it is a 'market leader', he sighed.
'Actually, it's baloney. But that's what our marketing people came up with. You can't do everything. You have to let people do their job.'
NEW YORK TIMES
DYSLEXIA AND ENTREPRENEURIAL SUCCESS
Capitalising on a little disadvantage
By Brent Bowers
IT HAS long been known that dyslexics are drawn to running their own businesses, where they can get around their weaknesses in reading and writing and play on their strengths. But a new study of entrepreneurs in the US suggests that dyslexia is much more common among small- business owners than even the experts had thought.
The report, compiled by Ms Julie Logan, a professor of entrepreneurship at the Cass Business School in London, found that more than a third of the entrepreneurs she had surveyed - 35 per cent - identified themselves as dyslexic.
The study also found dyslexics to be more likely than non-dyslexics to delegate authority and excel in oral communication and problem solving, and were twice as likely to own two or more businesses.
'We found that dyslexics who succeed had overcome an awful lot in their lives by developing compensatory skills,' Professor Logan said.
'If you tell your friends and acquaintances that you plan to start a business, you'll hear over and over, 'It won't work. It can't be done'. But dyslexics are extraordinarily creative about manoeuvring their way around problems.'
The study was based on a survey of 139 business owners in a wide range of fields across the United States. Prof Logan called the number who said they were dyslexic 'staggering', and said it was significantly higher than the 20 per cent of British entrepreneurs who said they were dyslexic in a poll she did in 2001.
She attributed the greater share in the US to earlier and more effective intervention by American schools to help dyslexic students deal with their learning problems. About 10 per cent of Americans are believed to have dyslexia, experts say.
One reason that dyslexics are drawn to entrepreneurship, Prof Logan said, is that strategies they have used since childhood to offset their weaknesses in written communication and organisational ability - identifying trustworthy people and handing over major responsibilities to them - can be applied to businesses.
'The willingness to delegate authority gives them a significant advantage over non-dyslexic entrepreneurs, who tend to view their business as their baby and like to be in total control,' she said.
Mr William Dennis, senior research fellow at the Research Foundation of the National Federation of Independent Business, a trade group in Washington, said the study's results 'fit into the pattern of what we know about small- business owners'.
'Entrepreneurs are hands- on people who push a minimum of paper, do lots of stuff orally instead of reading and writing, and delegate authority, all of which suggests a high verbal facility,' he said.
'Compare that with corporate managers who read, read, read.'
Indeed, according to Prof Logan, only 1 per cent of corporate managers in the US have dyslexia.
Much has been written about the link between dyslexia and entrepreneurial success. Fortune Magazine, for example, ran a cover story five years ago about dyslexic business leaders, including Mr Richard Branson, founder of Virgin Atlantic Airways; Mr Charles R. Schwab, founder of the discount brokerage firm that bears his name; Mr John T. Chambers, chief executive of Cisco; and Mr Paul Orfalea, founder of the Kinko's copy chain.
But Prof Logan said hers was the first study she knew of that tried to measure the percentage of entrepreneurs with dyslexia. Mr Carl Schramm, president of the Kauffman Foundation, which financed the research, agreed. But he said that although the study's findings were surprising, there was no previous baseline to measure it against.
Mr Emerson Dickman, president of the International Dyslexia Association and a lawyer, said the study's findings 'just make sense'.
'Individuals who have difficulty reading and writing tend to deploy other strengths,' said Mr Dickman, who has dyslexia.
'They rely on mentors and so become very good at reading other people and delegating duties to them. They become adept at using visual strengths to solve problems.'
Mr Orfalea, 60, who left Kinko's - now FedEx Kinko's - seven years ago, now dabbles in a hodge-podge of business undertakings. He is almost proud of having dyslexia and attention deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADD).
'I get bored easily, and that is a great motivator. I think everybody should have dyslexia and ADD,' he said.
He attributes his business success to his difficulty with reading and writing because it forced him to master verbal communication. 'I didn't have a lot of self-confidence as a kid,' he said.
'And that is for the good. If you have a healthy dose of rejection in your life, you are going to have to figure out how to do it your way.'
He said his biggest advantage was his realisation that because of his many inadequacies, he had to delegate important tasks. 'My motto is: Anybody else can do anything better than me.'
Mr Danny Kessler, 26, also has dyslexia and ADD. He founded Angels with Attitude, which holds seminars for women on self-defence. He is a co-founder of Club E Network, which sponsors 'networking events', runs an online chat room for entrepreneurs and produces television shows about them.
Like Mr Orfalea, he said he had low self-esteem as a child, and now views that as a catapult into the entrepreneurial world. 'I told myself I would never be a lawyer or a doctor. But I wanted to make a lot of money. And I knew business was the only way I was going to do it,' he said.
In high school, Mr Kessler said, 'I became cool with the teachers. I developed a rapport with them. I was able to convince almost all of them to nudge my grade up just a bit. I adopted a strategy for squeezing through the system'.
As for the importance of entrusting tasks to others, Mr Kessler said his limitations endowed him with a 'razor sharp' intuition that allows him to ascertain within minutes of meeting people whether he can depend on them and what they would be good at in an organisation.
Mr Drew Devitt, 45, who also has dyslexia, said he started Thoughtware Products in college to produce videos for real estate brokers. Today, he runs a successful US$9 million (S$13 million) company called New Way Air Bearings that makes bearings for precision machine tools.
He also indirectly confirmed giving free rein to his deputies. Asked about the claim on his company's website that it is a 'market leader', he sighed.
'Actually, it's baloney. But that's what our marketing people came up with. You can't do everything. You have to let people do their job.'
NEW YORK TIMES
Friday, December 7, 2007
Most S'pore kids are happy: Study
Nov 30, 2007
Most S'pore kids are happy: Study
Research shows the majority like their parents and have enough friends
By Theresa Tan
WORKING mums can breathe easy - a new study has found that hours at the office will not affect the emotional well-being of their children.
Despite parental fears, most children think their mums - working or not - often spend time with them, according to a study released yesterday by the Singapore Children's Society.
'Perhaps children don't expect their mums to spend all their time with them,' said senior researcher Mrs Shum-Cheung Hoi Shan.
'It's the quality of the time spent that matters.'
The study on the well-being of primary schoolchildren here painted a rosy picture. Researches interviewed about 1,800 parents and children and found:
83 per cent of children feel happy often or very often.
Over 95 per cent of children like their parents and have good relationships with them.
98 per cent of children have enough friends.
'It's very reassuring to know that the majority of our kids are happy,' said Mr Alex Lee, who sits on the society's board.
The study comes at a time when families are under greater strain than ever.
Divorce rates and the number of single-parent families are climbing. Plus more women are going out to work.
Working mothers said they wished they had more time for their children and try to devote their down time to their kids.
Accounts assistant Mrs Jeslin Heng, 39, says she is sometimes too tired to help her eldest daughter, who is nine, with her homework.
The mother of two has considered quitting her job to spend more time with her daughters, but cannot afford to leave work.
However, children interviewed by The Straits Times said their mums spent enough time with them, regardless of their employment status.
Ynez Tan, 11, is happy to have 'private' time when her salesgirl mum is at work.
She said: 'I can chat with my friends for a long time or watch TV when my mother is working.
'I prefer my mum to work.'
What is interesting, Mr Lee said, is that Malays and Indian children said they spend more time with their parents than Chinese children.
One reason could be Malay and Indian communities are more close-knit, said Mrs Shum-Cheung.
While the majority of children are happy, 10 per cent said they feel very sad often or very often.
Researchers did not ask the children why they were sad, or for that matter, happy.
They only asked the children, aged between six and 12, to rate their feelings.
However, going by calls to Tinkle Friend - the society's helpline for primary school pupils - children are often troubled by fighting parents, stress from school work, quarrels with friends and bullying.
Said Mr Lee: 'The percentage of unhappy children may be small, but it is something to look into.'
The study also found a child's emotional well-being is not affected by the number of siblings he has.
Those who are the only child tend to share their secrets and feelings with their grandparents more frequently than children with brothers or sisters.
theresat@sph.com.sg
Most S'pore kids are happy: Study
Research shows the majority like their parents and have enough friends
By Theresa Tan
WORKING mums can breathe easy - a new study has found that hours at the office will not affect the emotional well-being of their children.
Despite parental fears, most children think their mums - working or not - often spend time with them, according to a study released yesterday by the Singapore Children's Society.
'Perhaps children don't expect their mums to spend all their time with them,' said senior researcher Mrs Shum-Cheung Hoi Shan.
'It's the quality of the time spent that matters.'
The study on the well-being of primary schoolchildren here painted a rosy picture. Researches interviewed about 1,800 parents and children and found:
83 per cent of children feel happy often or very often.
Over 95 per cent of children like their parents and have good relationships with them.
98 per cent of children have enough friends.
'It's very reassuring to know that the majority of our kids are happy,' said Mr Alex Lee, who sits on the society's board.
The study comes at a time when families are under greater strain than ever.
Divorce rates and the number of single-parent families are climbing. Plus more women are going out to work.
Working mothers said they wished they had more time for their children and try to devote their down time to their kids.
Accounts assistant Mrs Jeslin Heng, 39, says she is sometimes too tired to help her eldest daughter, who is nine, with her homework.
The mother of two has considered quitting her job to spend more time with her daughters, but cannot afford to leave work.
However, children interviewed by The Straits Times said their mums spent enough time with them, regardless of their employment status.
Ynez Tan, 11, is happy to have 'private' time when her salesgirl mum is at work.
She said: 'I can chat with my friends for a long time or watch TV when my mother is working.
'I prefer my mum to work.'
What is interesting, Mr Lee said, is that Malays and Indian children said they spend more time with their parents than Chinese children.
One reason could be Malay and Indian communities are more close-knit, said Mrs Shum-Cheung.
While the majority of children are happy, 10 per cent said they feel very sad often or very often.
Researchers did not ask the children why they were sad, or for that matter, happy.
They only asked the children, aged between six and 12, to rate their feelings.
However, going by calls to Tinkle Friend - the society's helpline for primary school pupils - children are often troubled by fighting parents, stress from school work, quarrels with friends and bullying.
Said Mr Lee: 'The percentage of unhappy children may be small, but it is something to look into.'
The study also found a child's emotional well-being is not affected by the number of siblings he has.
Those who are the only child tend to share their secrets and feelings with their grandparents more frequently than children with brothers or sisters.
theresat@sph.com.sg
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