Inspiring Stories

Jeff Cheong is almost silent as he and his crew of three follow an elderly man, Mr Tan Choon Kiang, around on a sweltering Monday afternoon. Video cameras roll as Mr Tan goes from person to person at Chai Chee Seniors Activity Centre, handing out packets of food to seniors and the immobile there.

The filmlet, of a man who has been sacrificing his lunch hour every day for a year to help others, will be posted on a small but growing Vimeo video site called Singaporean of the Day.

The site, a personal project by four friends, was launched in January and its heartfelt videos — of ordinary Singaporeans talking about their hopes, what makes them happy and the causes they champion — have already garnered more than 40,000 views and media interest.

Recent stories include that of Maeve Low, who was diagnosed with Burkitt’s lymphoma at the age of three and has fought the illness bravely; and her mother, Ms Joanne Poon, who wrote a storybook called Brave Maeve for her cancer-stricken daughter, to inspire courage in other sick children and their caregivers.

Then there is devoted husband Kenneth Liew, who has visited his comatose wife almost daily for the past five years; and others such as a cat rescuer, an adventurer, a getai troupe owner and more.

Some, who have seen the videos and written in, say the project — which was sparked by outrage over last year’s Gallup Poll that called Singaporeans “emotionless” — was “restoring the soul of Singapore”.

But for Mr Cheong, a 37-year-old digital advertising professional, it has never been missing in the first place.

RIPPLES OF KINDNESS

He grew up poor, his extended family of 10 people squeezed into a three-room flat in Stirling Road.

At school, a teacher noticed his creative leanings and suggested he do Creative Design at Temasek Polytechnic; he has not looked back since. Now, he serves as Vice-President of TribalDDB Asia as well as its Singapore head.

He, however, has not forgotten his roots. Mr Cheong, one day, found he had time to spare after lunch at Bendemeer. Wandering around HDB blocks, he was puzzled to find mailboxes fitted with LED displays on top.

He later discovered that these were to alert passers-by should an elderly resident, many of whom lived alone, hit the emergency button installed in their home.

He got his co-workers to pool together some money to buy supplies and, armed with about 50 bags, went back to the flats with colleagues and family in tow. Knocking on random doors that first visit, to head any unease, they introduced themselves to the elderly residents with: “Hi, we are your new neighbours and we’re just here to say hello.”

That visit had such an impact, his office has continued the tradition for the past three years.

“It is a little more organised now. We work with Lions Befrienders which gives us a list of units whose residents need more attention.”

Another time, he was driving his friend home when a lady collapsed on the road in front of them — from stress and hunger, he later discovered.

Shocked and worried, he drove her to Parkway East Hospital before sending his friend home, then went back to the hospital to check on her.

He later drove the lady and her friend home, too.

A question about whether he gave much thought to such acts of kindness actually catches him by surprise.

“I do not think about them,” he admits finally.

But he is a believer that acts of “kindness and graciousness” create a small ripple which keeps growing — “from home to neighbourhood, to society, to country and then to the world”.

SENSE OF UNFAIRNESS

The Singaporean of the Day project was conceived out of Mr Cheong’s indignation with last November’s Gallup survey results, which declared Singaporeans to be the unhappiest and most emotionless people worldwide — beating out countries such as Iraq, Serbia and Nepal.

Perturbed, he looked closer at the survey and declared the questions and methodology “nonsensical”.

“Sample size of 1,000? That’s enough for you to say that (we) are emotionless? And questions like, ‘did you smile more than yesterday’ — I mean, how do you extrapolate that kind of thing? It could have been a bad day with a colleague or boss. It’s my current state of mind versus my entire month or year of thinking. I thought it was pretty unfair.”

He was incensed because, it was, as if “someone were to come to your house and say: ‘Hey your house is damn ugly’. It is almost like an invasion … I felt it even worse when the headlines (in the international media) were really sensationalised.”

This became a hot lunch topic with his colleagues, and they discussed the issue over and over.

“It all came to a point where everyone (knew) at least one person, chao chao (for sure), doing something different. Some guy pursuing his own happiness. Some very happy, some very normal, but at least someone who is keeping the faith, believing that they are proud to be a Singaporean.”

THE FIRST VIDEO

It did not take him and art directors Lim Si Ping, 25; and Herbert Pradjaja, 26; and producer Jasmine Moh, 29; long to hit on the idea and name: A video site showcasing real Singaporeans, every day.

Mr Cheong did a search and discovered the website name was yet unclaimed. “I said eh! Singaporean of the Day is not taken! Quick, quick, quick!! Let’s apply!”

The goal was simple — to show that Singaporeans are anything but emotionless and unhappy. So far, 14 Singaporeans from a wide range of backgrounds have been showcased.

Using two SLR cameras and a microphone, the first person they filmed was Mr Lee Yoon Tong, 74, one of the last remaining street-alley barbers in Singapore, who had interesting tales of his 50 years in the trade.

“We deliberately chose someone who was slightly older, so we could set out with how we can learn from the past and have it take us to the future. The story was incredible and he was very candid,” said Mr Cheong.

“We did not know much Mandarin, he did not know much English, so given the brokenness of our language I was still surprised we managed to string together an interview.”

That, he said, was the easy part for a team with almost zero experience with editing software. They ended up spending “so much time” in the editing room that one of theme joked they should change the name. “He said: ‘Jeff, maybe we should call it Singaporean of the every other day, or of the week, or even of the month.”

In the end, they settled on aiming to upload a new video every three weeks instead of the ambitious earlier goal of doing so daily.

TOUCHING AUTHENTICITY

The site started small — they asked a few friends to spread the word if they enjoyed the video. Then the emails, praise and suggestions for new interviewees began to flow in.

When a potential subject is nominated, the crew arrange several meetings so that both sides can feel each other out before filming even commences. Sometimes people back out, or the team decides it would not be a good fit for the website. This, he said, is because “we want to make sure the people we feature are leading authentic lives.”

Once comfortable, the crew sets up a date to film. “It’s very natural … We let the camera roll and they will just talk and talk and talk. We don’t give them a script or questions beforehand.”

The crew are invariably touched by the individuals they meet. Said Mr Cheong: “Whenever we film, our hearts beat very fast and we leave feeling very inspired.” The concept of the videos has proven so effective that copycats have surfaced — which Mr Cheong said he fully encourages.

Some of the Singaporeans featured on the site have also received a boost. After Ms Poon’s video went live online, a stranger asked Mr Cheong, through Facebook, if her book — a non-profit project meant for caregivers and young cancer patients — was available in China. The person knew a publisher there and so, someone was found to translate the book, and it was sent off, artwork and all, to be made available free in China for those who needed it.

PASSING IT ON

The project is a personal one, for the four TribalDDB colleagues, they film during lunchtime or at weekends — though their understanding mentors and bosses, Chief Executive Officer David Tang and Chief Creative Officer Neil Johnson of DDB Group, “close both eyes” when they overrun their lunch hour because of filming, said Mr Cheong.

It is probably because he works hard and efficiently. Every morning, after dropping off his eldest son (he has two sons, aged 9 and 3, and a daughter, 7) at school, he is in the office by 8am, an hour before anyone else.

His team is a close-knit one, so much so that, at the start of the interview, one staff member emailed to update him that she was going in for a Caesarean to deliver her baby.

And while many creative and advertising agencies are stocked with foreigners, Tribal is “over 90-per-cent Singaporean”, Mr Cheong said proudly. He hires locals where possible because he believes “there is talent here”.

A family man, he tries to rush home by 7.30pm to have dinner with his family. He also believes in teaching his children to be hands-on, especially in being solicitous of the needs of others.

Once, he spotted a blind man with a guide dog trying to find a place to sit. “I told my (elder) son to go and guide the dog while I watched. He was a little afraid as it was big” — but the little boy not only helped the man, he also noted the condition of the seat and yelled out: “Daddy! Got tissue? The chair is wet!”

Source: TODAY

The cancer was eating away at her and she was in great pain.

Yet, Miss Eileen Chong’s unmarried aunt continued to care for her family.

Said Miss Chong, 28: “She was all skin and bones. She was in a lot of pain. Yet she still cooked for us and constantly checked on us to see if we needed anything.”

It was her aunt’s selflessness in spite of being the one in need that inspired Miss Chong to love others in the community.

Her aunt, who died a year ago inspired her to make Singapore: Unsung Heroes, a five-part documentary series of individuals doing acts of kindness.

“I find that Singapore can be a cold place at times. We see people in need, and don’t do anything,” she said.

“All these small stories are to inspire Singaporeans to take a look, pause, and see how they can help.”

Miss Chong, who has a diploma from Ngee Ann Polytechnic’s Film, Sound and Video course plans to upload the first episode by May 1 but the Facebook page which was set up on March 18, has gained more than 1,000 “likes”.

Miss Chong, who runs a photo and video company Under One Tree Media with a partner, hopes the page will facilitate even more giving among Singaporeans.

Two years ago, she started photo and video company Under One Tree Media, consisting of Miss Chong, her business partner, and two freelancers,, w.

Documentary-making was something Miss Chong had always wanted to pursue, but was bounded by time considerations.

She said: “I got tired of all these excuses, and realised I had to go for it.

“Videos are powerful because they can cause a ripple effect based on what you show your audience

The unsung heroes featured in her documentary are contacts from her friends or people found through the Facebook page.

“The only criteria is that they do not belong to any organisation and they have been doing acts of kindness for many years,” she said.

Each episode is 20 minutes long and the video will be posted on the Facebook page.

“It’ll include an interview with the unsung hero where I’ll dig deep into why they’re doing this. I’ll also be trailing them so people can see their heart of service in action,” she said.

There have been two videos on the Facebook page so far.

The first is a snippet of episode one of her documentary.

The “unsung hero” featured is Madam Fion Phua, 43, a woman who knocks on doors and offers help to families in need.

Said the membership broker: “As long as the intention behind the video is sound, I think it’s a good idea.

“I hope it will help encourage more people who have not tried volunteering or are too reserved to approach strangers.”

She said: “My favourite moment so far is when messages of people pledging to donate started appearing on Facebook Though this project has just started out, Miss Chong already has an end goal in mind.

” Whatever help that people need, this page will provide the inspiration for Singaporeans to step forward and contribute.”

Source: The New Paper

For the past two months, IT consultant Robin Ann Rheaume has been roaming the streets of Singapore taking portraits of strangers.

A 70-something hairdresser tending to a customer in Chinatown, three big-bellied butchers chilling out at Tiong Bahru market, an earnest boy scout at a hawker centre in Serangoon Gardens, a cheery Catholic nun at Waterloo Street.

The individuals she captures are as diverse as they are unique.

The former investment banker uploads these snapshots and anecdotes about her subjects onto The People of Singapore (POS), a Facebook page she created to capture the textures in the fabric of Singapore life.

She hopes it will help to debunk the Singaporean stereotype.

“There is this amorphous, greedy and kiasu stereotype created of the Singaporean which I believe is not quite accurate,” said the Canadian-born Singapore permanent resident, who has lived here for the last 20 years.

She also hopes her photos will provoke discussion about issues such as national identity.

“I wanted to participate in the national conversation but I felt it shouldn’t involve my face or my voice,” said Ms Rheaume, 48.

She modelled her page on the Humans of New York project started by American photographer Brandon Stanton in 2010.

The project had attracted more than half a million followers on Facebook as of January.

She has kept POS low-key but it has attracted more than 600 “likes” since it was launched in February.

Editorial assistant Dan Koh, 25, described the page as a simple but great idea. “It’s very casual but very genuine and very heartfelt,” he said, adding that he was surprised it was the initiative of a foreigner.

Homemaker Yin Yan Lin, 39, who chanced upon the site last week, agreed.

The mother of two young boys said: “What I like is that she takes the auntie, uncle and Ah Soh in the street – folks whom we may easily dismiss – and frames them to show how every person is a unique individual with a story to tell. It’s like ordinary people made extraordinary.”

Indeed, that is a key reason why Ms Rheaume started POS.

“When you live in a city, it’s just normal to dehumanise the people around you because it’s hard to give time to every single person who comes by. The poor dehumanise the rich; the rich dehumanise the poor.”

Starting POS, she said, is like going into the wardrobe in the C.S. Lewis children’s classic, The Lion, The Witch And The Wardrobe.

“You go through this secret passage and suddenly you’re in this parallel dimension which has been there all the time and it’s full of interesting people with interesting stories. They were there walking among us all the time but we just didn’t notice.”

She came to Singapore to work at a bank in 1992 and felt at home immediately. “I can’t put a finger on why I fell in love with Singapore. I just did,” she said.

At one time the regional head of credit risk management for a foreign bank, she left banking after the financial crisis and became an IT consultant as she was adept at social media and programming.

She now works as a consultant for a local IT company and also helps to build systems and programs free of charge for non-profit organisations.

Effervescent with a competent grasp of Singlish, Ms Rheaume found the going hard when she first started POS.

“I didn’t know what to do or where to go, so I started with Orchard Road, which is just about the worst place to go to. Besides, half the people on Orchard Road aren’t even Singaporean,” she said.

She was rejected by many of the people she approached.

Her break came when she got a scoop.

She heard a rumour that Chin Mee Chin, the old bakery in Katong, was going to close so she headed there with her camera.

“I took a picture of the aunty there and she said no, it was not closing. I went home and put the picture up and more than 40,000 people saw it,” she said.

The response convinced her she was on to a good thing.

She ventures out whenever she can to shoot pictures of interesting folk she comes across.

A friend often goes with her to help with translation.

The feedback to the more than 100 portraits she has posted so far has been overwhelmingly positive and encouraging.

Ms Rheaume said she does not hesitate to remove negative comments.

“I really do not want people whose pictures show up here to be subject to nasty comments and regret being part of this,” she said. Meanwhile, getting people to open up to her has become a lot easier.

“If you are nice to people, you make their day so it’s a really worthwhile endeavour. And you’ll find there is a limitless supply of really cool people out there.”

Source: The Straits Times

She was born blind, and when she was five, her mother left her and she went to live with her aunt and uncle.

She had two visits from her mother a few months later, then never heard from her again, while her father, who lives elsewhere, would visit occasionally.

Stephanie Ow grew up a timid and introverted girl, until she took up playing the erhu and violin two years ago.

Today, she is a bubbly 16-year-old who has no qualms about getting up on stage in front of large crowds. She even performed at the President’s Star Charity Show last year.

Stephanie said: “Music has helped me to open up, to talk more to people, to be more cheerful and to manage my time.”

“When I go up and perform and when I hear the applause, I feel a lot of happiness,” she added.

With the help of the North East Community Development Council (CDC), which helped to fund her musical pursuits, Stephanie now holds a grade six certificate of distinction in erhu, and a grade two certificate of distinction in violin.

Of her success, Stephanie, who is a recipient of the CDC’s Special Talent Fund (STF), said: “I tell myself, if the sighted can do it, so can I.”

Stephanie was born with retinal dystrophy, which causes blindness. After her mother disappeared, she was brought up by her paternal aunt in her four-room flat in Sengkang.

Stephanie’s father, who is jobless, sees her only once or twice a month.

In an interview with The New Paper, her aunt, Madam Ow Sau Fun, 54, a housewife said: “When she first came in, she didn’t talk at all. Even when she was tired or hungry, she didn’t say anything.”

Stephanie, a Secondary Three student from Ahmad Ibrahim Secondary School, found her passion and talent in the erhu when her aunt and uncle felt that the introverted teenager did not have an outlet for her energy.

Madam Ow said: “She would be in her room, with the radio turned on, and she would be jumping around the room, or just reading (braille) the whole day.”

Madam Ow’s husband, Taoist priest Lee Leong Seng, 56, then suggested that Stephanie take up erhu lessons.

With the help of a volunteer from the Singapore Association of the Visually Handicapped (SAVH), Stephanie started her erhu lessons at the Liberal Music & Arts School at Hong Lim Complex in 2010.

She applied for the STF last year and receives $5,000 a year, which pays for her lessons and exam fees.

Budding talent

Mr Teo Ser Luck, Mayor of North East District, said: “When Stephanie first applied for the (fund) in 2011, the fund evaluation panel found her to be someone who was determined to take on the challenge of mastering the erhu, despite being visually impaired… We certainly hope the STF will benefit more budding talents like Stephanie.”

But Stephanie admitted that at the start, she did not really like playing the traditional Chinese string instrument until she was able to play simple classical music about two to three months later.

The following year, she also took up violin lessons from the same school and liked “feeling the shape of the violin and the sound of it”.

Now, she brushes up on her skills by spending an hour practising on her erhu every day. She practises for half an hour on her violin daily.

Unable to read musical notes, she learns by listening to recordings. During lessons, her music teachers read out the notes to her.

Learning the instruments has made Stephanie more confident, said Madam Ow, who added: “Stephanie has become livelier and knows how to talk.”

Halfway through the interview, she excitedly shows Stephanie’s music certificates.

It is no wonder that Madam Ow feels proud, even though she and her husband have made some sacrifices.

When asked why she took Stephanie in, she said: “Just because she’s my niece.”

Source: The New Paper