Its cool to be Malay, Indian, Chinese, Singaporean, etc.

Ash wants to know how I got around to be proud of being Malay.

I had a good think, and spoke to a couple of people (well, at least one) and we figured that its better not to be proud of being Malay, or Chinese, or Indian, or whatever.

More accurately, we don't think being proud is a good attitude to have. Its like thinking you're of a superior breed just because somebody else who happened to share the same genetic expression as you achieved something noteworthy.

We (as in my fiancee) and I think that its much cooler to just be ourselves. We learnt to accept the colour of our skin and that sometimes people might have preconceived notions of us which are mostly wrong but sometimes right. (Mats still sit under the void deck playing guitar at 1 am in the morning, until I call the cops to tell them to perform ID checks on the buggers.)

I'll state it here, I'd rather be Singaporean Malay - and accept all of my flaws, implied or otherwise, rather than pretend to be someone I am not or be unsure of who I am.

For the record, I believe the moment when I started standing up for my race was when I went overseas for training and I felt really lost. It was my first time abroad for an extended period of time and I must say that I had my share of racist comments and confrontations while I was over there.

As a red blooded male with a good understanding of the context and history of my predecessors and what we had to put up with I guess I prefer to fight for my right to be recognized as a human being entitled to the same rights and capable of doing more than my fair share.

Skin colour and outer appearances are a product of genetic expression and environment variables.

"There's no gene for the human spirit." - Gattaca (1996), a film by Andrew Nicols.

Why I USED to hate being Malay

Growing up, I hated the idea of being Malay.

It bears with it the connotation of being lazy, ignorant, petulant, gullible, repressed, stagnant and poor. Growing up, most of the Malay people I knew weren't rich or well-off or successful.

Most Malay dads were blue collar workers. Most Malay mom's stayed at home. Sometimes they'd be factory workers. And with the combined incomes they appeared more well off.

When I went to secondary school, I was painfully conscious of my skin colour and social demographic background. Most dads in the school I went to were middle income earners. Most of the kids stayed in the expensive districts of Singapore. They had connections. Their girlfriends were fair skinned Chinese girls from SCGS or MGS. They went to church. Their churches had bands. And they worshipped by appealing to God in English.

I distinctly remember staying away from kids who were obviously a lot more well-off. I figured there was nothing i could offer them.

All the 'heroes' in school were smart Chinese boys who excelled in sports and school. They swam, or they played rugby. Sometimes they did track. And to earn school colours was a big deal.

I took Malay language class and felt it was an exercise in futility. I pitied the tortured and beleaguered Malay cikgu. I was more interested in completing the task assigned and just getting the highest score possible without feeling for the subject. I didn't feel or see the need for the poetry of the language.

Why be Malay when there is nothing to feel proud about?

Why be Malay when the racial stereotype is one of the guitar playing yobbo with no future?

Why be Malay at all when the media surrounds us with non-Malay ideals of beauty and success?