Dinner Table Discourse

Written by: Shi En (Class of 2019)

I have a funny story about something that happened at my grandma’s dining table sometime in 2019. My mother was coughing quite a bit (it was nothing serious).

“You okay?” My brother asked.

“Yeah, I just aspirated a tomato.” She replied.

I had the same thought some of you might be having right now...

“Who in the world uses the word ‘aspirated’?”

A quick google search would show you that

“Aspiration means you’re breathing foreign objects into your airways.” - brought to you by www.healthline.com

For a more comprehensive context, my mother works as an anaesthetist. Aka she’s a professional licensed drug dealer who specialises in knocking people out before they go under the knife. And a form of aspiration during surgery (anaesthesia-related aspiration) is a complication that she needs to be on her toes for because it can be fatal.

So, aspiration or aspirated is a somewhat technical term which just so happened to describe her situation with greater precision than the word “choke”.

This was a situation that reminded me that my family was a bit unconventional.

A more recent account happened a few months ago. In lieu of Covid-19, the international coding Olympiad (held in Singapore) was effectively cancelled. But my brother was still on the question setting committee. As part of my sisterly duties, every now and then I would pop my head into his room to bug him.

“What are you doing?”

“Setting a paper that no one’s going to take.” There was a twinge of lament mixed into his response.

For those who don’t know my brother I think he is objectively the smartest person I know. Back when we made regular trips to the library, I borrowed books out of obligation, maybe picking them up once or twice at home before returning them to the pile to collect dust. My brother borrowed computer manuals out of pure interest. And read them. Most of his coding skills are self-taught and he has been able to create some truly amazing things out of thin air. Earlier in January, I tagged along and saw first-hand how he worked on a project for the NUS hackathon. After pulling an all-nighter, many packets of chips and cups of coffee, his team made a rhythm game that used those bunny hats with the movable ears which were popularised by kpop idols as a controller and the computer webcam as a sensor. His sheer size of big brain never ceases to amaze me.

During dinner, amidst his question setting phase, coding and coding memes were probably at the front of his mind.

“You know Stardew Valley is a nap sack problem right,” he remarked.

“What’s a nap sack problem?” My mother had jumped down the rabbit hole.

TLDR in a nap sack problem you have limited space to fill stuff and you want to get maximum value out of said stuff so how do you automate the decision process of what stuff to put inside. Key word, stuff.

And in Stardew Valley you want to maximise happiness, money, relationships etc with having limited time and farm space.

“Then do you know the travelling salesman problem?” My brother directed the question at me this time.

Aha! For once I was not a total noob because it was a plot point in Science Fell In Love, So I Tried To Prove It. (It’s an anime it’s quite funny and very wholesome. Would recommend)

In the show they wanted to plan a date route in an amusement park so the travelling salesman problem here was to maximise the number of attractions and number of rides per attraction while minimising travel and waiting time.

“Yes.” He gave me the seal of approval. Oh, how proud I felt.

Over dinner we discussed how to solve the kinds of coding questions they wanted to set and after that he brought us through the actual answer of a watered-down version. It took 2 hours.

A lot of random knowledge I had and a lot of my GP examples were an accumulation of whatever dinnertime conversations occurred in the recent past. So, if anything I said sounded big brain, it’s probably because I’m parroting what the big brained people around me have said.

After lots of rumination, I have concluded that I am extremely grateful for these exchanges with my family. I used to be uncomfortable with telling people what my parents do for a living because I was scared it would make whatever I managed to achieve a product of my background rather than my efforts. But it is true that a lot of my own astuteness and critical thinking comes from these interactions with my family (and constantly trying to prove that I am right).

In my teaching internship one of the teachers told me about the school’s “Hidden Curriculum” which focused on building good character and soft skills.

At home it felt like my own “Hidden Curriculum” were encased in these dinner conversations. It was a chance to be educated on things outside of my usual mental stimulus. We would discuss current concrete things like policies, more fluffy stuff like epistemology. We would take situations apart to analyse them and build arguments up.

But the key thing I am grateful for is that my parents took the opinions of my brother and I seriously. I’m not sure when it started but at least when it came to debating, they treated us like adults. They would fact check us, question our fallacies and we would do the same to them. We had a seat at that table.

This is not to say that all meals were filled with light-hearted “casual flexes”. Disagreements, complaints and tantrums do happen. Sometimes we also just eat in amicable silence.

In fact, I remember that many of my weekday dinners in JC were spent alone because I would reach home long after everyone has eaten as a result of CCA, H3 or night study.

So, with Covid-19 kind of forcing us all to eat more often with our families, I’m curious to find out what transpires across the table in other households. I know, a lot of people say to treasure the time you have with your loved ones and take this opportunity to spend more time with them. But I find statements like that to be a bit stuffy and overbearing. Why assume that everyone has good relationships in their household? Or insinuate that it is an obligation and duty to be at our 100% happiness and most sociable. I choose to think that everyone can come to realise that in their own time and on their own terms. It took me a long time to accept that there will be good and there will be bad that comes with that good. And that is okay. If what I am saying feels vague it is because I am trying to be. What those people say would be an ideal, and for each of our own circumstance we need to adjust and be realistic. Healthy expectations breed a healthy disposition which gives rise to healthier relationships. It’s okay to take your time.

This was written quite a while ago so now that I am editing it again, I have decided to change the ending a bit. Let’s shuffle the heavier stuff aside and end on a light note. Let’s talk chilli. My family is kind of split down the middle: people who can take spice and people who just can’t. My brother and I belong to camp 1 and everyone else belongs in camp 2.

The one frivolous purchase I have ever seen my brother make was done in the middle of CB. Maybe he was going crazy from cabin fever or he was sleep deprived, who knows? He spent $90 on a bundle of 3 bottles of hot sauce of varying spice levels. They have been a regular guest at all meals and so far we have only worked through 1 bottle (it does taste nice but it seems like the other 2 bottles aren’t meant to let you taste anything other than pain).

My chilli of choice is fresh chilli. 2 small chilli padi cut with a pair of scissors. Kind of old-fashioned, but always so satisfyingly painful.

It’s a returning gag in my family that my parents would ask to eat some. We would double check if they are sure and they would reply with confidence. You know, those informed consent kind of things. They try it, they regret, everyone chuckles for a bit.

I like to find comfort in things like these. The seemingly useless and trivial stuff. The mundane. The fleeting form of escapism from all the things going on in the world.

When I do end up flying overseas for university, I’ll remember those instances fondly. The time my mother aspirated on a tomato, the time my brother willingly gave us a little lecture on computing. Now that I have all the time in the world to think and collect those thoughts, I’ll try to commit them to memory before they slip away for good.

Disclaimer:

The opinions, beliefs and viewpoints expressed in this post are those of the author’s and do not necessarily reflect those of the school’s.