but as time passed, I suppose I got used to the business. Getting used to it does not make it fun, though, and so when I picked up the phone, I knew what I was once again in for.

There was ringing, and a click, and then a man’s voice.

‘Yes, hello,’ I said. ‘It’s this. My brother has been given notice to turn up for National Service and - ’

‘How old is your brother?’ the man interrupted.

‘He’s seventeen,’ I said.

‘And has he been called down to register this coming June?’ he continued.

‘Yes, but you see - ’

‘Then that’s good. That’s right.’

‘Yes, but you see, the thing is he’s autistic. He won’t be able to attend National Service. We’d like to find out how we’re supposed to go about having him exempted.’

‘What? What? No, there’s no such thing, that’s impossible. Everyone has to attend National Service, there’s no excuse.’

I had to pause for a few moments before speaking into the receiver again.

‘My brother is autistic,’ I said emphatically. ‘He can’t attend NS unless you’d like to have him. Do you know what autism is?’

‘Autism? Is he sick? We can only exempt him if he’s sick. How long has he been autistic for?’ he inquired, as if I had told him that my brother had just caught the flu.

‘For as long as he can remember,’ I said. ‘I beg your pardon, I said he was autistic, not sick.’

‘He’s not sick?’

‘He’s not sick,’ I affirmed. ‘He has autism. It’s a condition. He won’t be able to do NS.’

‘Has he been checked by our doctors? You’ll need to have them certify him unfit for NS,’ said the person. ‘If they say officially that he won’t be able to do NS, only then can he be excused.’

‘Alright,’ I said, playing along. ‘How do we get the doctors to certify that he’s autistic and so unfit for NS?’

‘Don’t you have a medical appointment? You need to have a medical appointment. You’ll need to bring him down to this address and let the doctors check him very thoroughly to make sure he’s autistic,’ said the person.

I was tempted to say, ‘Don’t worry, I don’t think he’s faking it.’ Instead I said, ‘We don’t have an appointment.’

‘You’ll need to speak to another person to arrange it,’ he said. ‘I’ll have that person call you back.’

‘Yes, do that please. Thank you.’ And then I hung up the phone and took lots of deep breaths.

It was good fortune that the next call was from a nice, sensible lady who understood the situation in two sentences.

She said that all we had to do was send them a letter from Jan’s old school stating that he was once a student there, and that was it. I thanked her, and put down the phone.

I supposed I was not going to have to remind the army officers-in-charge to secure Jan’s barrack door after lights out, in case he woke up in the middle of the night and decided he would like to go on an adventure.

When the comedy wanes, however, I find myself always wishing to raise the level of autism awareness in Singapore to a whole new level.

Chapter 7

I Want To Go To School

The 1st Step

Two years ago, I decided to become a preschool teacher and have been in the line since. In the the Early Childhood field, one encounters special needs children of different types and backgrounds. I did think it would make for excellent research, as well as a choice opportunity for a hands-on approach to child psychology, regular or irregular. It makes for food for thought, and makes me reflect on my own memories.

I once observed a child, a boy who had just turned two. The others around him were beginning to babble half-formed words, form dubious habits and exhibit personal quirks. But he remained as he had been for months, passive and apathetic, and with a tendency to run out open doors. A moment came when I realised that Yu Jin never made any eye contact with anyone. I instinctively began to watch him more closely from then on.

Yu Jin never responded to being called by name. Some had put it down to him being too used to nicknames at home. But he never responded to any kind of communication unless he was picked up bodily. Yu Jin only ever showed a single emotion – a sort of wayward distress when physically stopped from doing something he wanted to. Unlike his peers, he was never seen to imitate others’ actions.

He also seemed not to recognise food as things to eat. He would pour them out of their vessels or crumble them in his hands, not out of mischief, but more out of what seemed like indifference.

Observing him became a thoughtful, melancholic affair for me; there was something about him that was familiar. It reminded me strongly of certain scenes from my childhood.

I kept my growing suspicions to myself, but was drawn to monitor him closely. I would note down details, like his disinterest in the playground and his peers.

I also wrote down the day and date of the first time I ever saw him laugh. We had gone outdoors one morning and he had clapped his hands against a metal pillar, producing a clanging sound. His peers soon joined him in the activity with great glee – they enjoyed almost anything that made a clamour – and as they were all hammering the pillar and laughing together, for a moment it seemed as though Yu Jin was playing with his friends.

Soon after, Yu Jin developed the habits of running in circles and twirling himself round and round.

Along with my growing conviction about Yu Jin’s condition was a lingering thought that his family had no idea. They thought he was behaving like a regular toddler. I cannot help but wonder, if I had been able to observe my brother discriminately during his first years, would I have been able to tell that he was different?

Early childhood educators are

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