Bilingualism in Singapore is not a policy. It is a daily negotiation. It is the sound of a mother speaking Teochew on the phone while a child answers in English. It is the awkward pause when you can’t find the right word in either language. It is the quiet pride of ordering chicken rice in fluent Mandarin and having the hawker nod with approval.
As a child, I found it challenging to juggle two languages. I would often switch between English and Mandarin in the same sentence, much to the amusement of my teachers. But I was determined to master both languages, and my parents encouraged me every step of the way.
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