Cheenah. Both an adjective and a noun. Not exactly respectful. What the English-educated Singaporean calls his Chinese-educated counterpart.
I have used the term, often too carelessly. And ironically - for I‘m a bit of a cheenah myself.
My cheenah history isn‘t exactly glowing. But it’s “glorious” enough to draw gasps of shock, especially after people hear my atrocious Mandarin today.
You see, my mother, who studied Malay instead of Chinese when she was younger, used to make me write out the English pronunciations of Chinese words I had learnt when I was in primary one and two. I translated all my Chinese textbooks for her so that she could test my “spelling” ability.
That laid the groundwork for the good grades that were to come with help from a tutor. My mother only wanted the best. Hence a Taiwanese tutor, no less.
In Primary Four, I won my school‘s Chinese story-telling contest. In other years, I usually ended up second or third. My teacher also picked me for a national essay-writing contest.
In secondary school, I studied Higher Chinese, scored an A2 in the “O” Level exam for the same subject and even recited Chinese prose for a competition.
But I soon “l(fā)ost” the language - after I wasn‘t required to study it anymore. Being around those who hardly spoke Mandarin, I became like them in no time.
I have to say I‘m not proud of this loss at all. After all, how many people can say they are effectively bilingual？
I wanted to practise my Mandarin. But somehow, I kept gravitating towards the English-speaking because I felt I could “click” better with them. The Chinese-educated were, well, too…… cheenah, we used to say.
Yet, I loved the things the cheenahs loved - listening to Mandarin songs, frequenting lounges where Mandarin songs were performed live, watching Taiwanese variety programmes, reading Chinese books……
In a sense, I was torn between two identities. And I have to say, shamefaced as I am, being more proficient in English appealed to me more when the possibility of being effectively bilingual became almost non-existent.
Blunt as it may sound, people do look up to you if you speak good English. A strong command of English takes you places.
Sadly, because of this, many of my peers who are English-educated have become snobs, although not outright ones. Being English-educated has almost become a status. Which is why every time the label cheenah is used on someone, it sounds condescending.
Cheenahs take their revenge by calling the English educated kantangs - a Hokkien term which means “Potatoes”。 With all relevance, it describes people who grew up eating them, just like the Caucasians.
But this does not hide the fact that in a pragmatic society that prides the importance of English, the chinese-educated are at a disadvantage socially ,especially when seen through the eyes of the English-educated.
I have to admit that I nearly did fall into the trap of becoming a snob. Though not consciously, I had begun to use the label cheenah without much thought.
But, thankfully, being a kantang with cheenah interests has allowed me to stand apart from the rest. This identity, confused as it has made me at times, has opened my eyes to the subtle condescension I have often let go in the remarks I have made about the people I felt were so different from me.
The truth is - I love Chinese.
And I regret not having the right environment to pursue it for as long as I like.
（The writer is a third year student of School of Communication Studies, NTU. This article first appeared in The Nanyang Chronicle, NTU‘s students’ newspaper）
老實(shí)說,我喜歡華文
黃小燕
Cheenah 是形容詞,也是名詞,含有貶意,是很多受英文教育的新加坡人,對受華文教育的新加坡人的謔稱。
由中學(xué)華文教師會主辦,《聯(lián)合晚報(bào)》、《新明日報(bào)》贊助的全國中學(xué)生華語演講比賽大決賽。
我也時(shí)常不經(jīng)意的使用這個(gè)字眼。諷刺的是,我本身也有點(diǎn)cheenah.我的cheenah歷史不算光輝,但已“耀眼”得足以讓人驚訝—— 尤其是聽了我糟透了的華語之后。
我媽媽年輕時(shí),學(xué)的是馬來文而不是華文。在我讀小一和小二的時(shí)候,她時(shí)常要我用英文,寫出我所學(xué)的中文的發(fā)音。我翻譯了所有的華文課本,方便她測試我的“聽寫”能力。
這樣的練習(xí)加上后來補(bǔ)習(xí)的幫助,為我以后的好成績奠定了基礎(chǔ)。我媽媽要的是好的,所以,我的補(bǔ)習(xí)老師是個(gè)臺灣人。
四年級那年,我在學(xué)校的華語講故事比賽得了冠軍。其他時(shí)候,我不是排名第二,便是第三。老師還選我參加全國作文比賽。
升上中學(xué)后,我讀的是高級華文,并在 ‘O’水準(zhǔn)考得A2,甚至還參加了散文朗誦比賽。
但是,我不久便“失去”了華文——我已經(jīng)不需要再修讀這一科。因?yàn)槌：碗y得講華語的朋友在一起,我很快便變得和他們沒什么兩樣。
我得說我對此一點(diǎn)也不覺得驕傲。畢竟,有多少人有條件說他們精通雙語？
我很想練習(xí)我的華語。但是,不知怎么的,我和講英語的朋友卻越來越接近,因?yàn)槲矣X得和他們很“合拍”。受華文教育的人就是……反正太cheenah了,我們不時(shí)這么說。
然而,我喜歡的東西卻和cheenahs一樣——聽華語流行歌曲、到民謠餐廳聽現(xiàn)場華語流行歌曲演唱、收看臺灣綜藝節(jié)目、閱讀華文書籍……
在某種意義上,我在兩種認(rèn)同感之間感到左右為難。慚愧的是,當(dāng)精通雙語的可能性變得幾乎不存在時(shí),對我來說,掌握英文更具吸引力。
不必拐彎抹角,事實(shí)是,如果你說得一口漂亮的英語,人們會對你另眼相看。掌握英文的能力也能夠幫助你事業(yè)成功。
不幸的是,我的一些受英文教育的朋友卻因此而變得自以為是,雖然還不至于達(dá)到極端的程度。這也就是為什么cheenah這個(gè)綽號,用來形容一些人時(shí),帶著一種看不起人的口氣。
Cheenahs也回敬受英文教育者一個(gè)稱號kantangs——這是福建話,意思是“馬鈴薯”,用來形容像洋人一樣,吃馬鈴薯長大的新加坡人。
但是,這不能掩蓋事實(shí)。我們務(wù)實(shí)的社會非常重視英文,受華文教育的人,在社會上處于不利的地位,尤其是在受英文教育者的眼里。
我得承認(rèn)我也幾乎變得自命不凡。不知不覺的,我也曾經(jīng)用cheenah這個(gè)字眼來形容某些人。
但是,我和其他的kantangs不同,我是一個(gè)喜歡cheenah事物的kantang,這真是值得慶幸。這樣的身分,有時(shí)會讓我感到迷惑。然而,卻也讓我了解我對和自己不同的人所作的評語,常帶著許多不自覺的傲慢。
老實(shí)說,我喜歡華文。對于沒有一個(gè)適當(dāng)?shù)沫h(huán)境,讓我繼續(xù)的學(xué)習(xí)華文,我感到很遺憾。
。作者是南大傳播學(xué)院三年級學(xué)生。原文發(fā)表于南大學(xué)生報(bào)紙The Nanyang Chronicle,葉琦保譯
I have used the term, often too carelessly. And ironically - for I‘m a bit of a cheenah myself.
My cheenah history isn‘t exactly glowing. But it’s “glorious” enough to draw gasps of shock, especially after people hear my atrocious Mandarin today.
You see, my mother, who studied Malay instead of Chinese when she was younger, used to make me write out the English pronunciations of Chinese words I had learnt when I was in primary one and two. I translated all my Chinese textbooks for her so that she could test my “spelling” ability.
That laid the groundwork for the good grades that were to come with help from a tutor. My mother only wanted the best. Hence a Taiwanese tutor, no less.
In Primary Four, I won my school‘s Chinese story-telling contest. In other years, I usually ended up second or third. My teacher also picked me for a national essay-writing contest.
In secondary school, I studied Higher Chinese, scored an A2 in the “O” Level exam for the same subject and even recited Chinese prose for a competition.
But I soon “l(fā)ost” the language - after I wasn‘t required to study it anymore. Being around those who hardly spoke Mandarin, I became like them in no time.
I have to say I‘m not proud of this loss at all. After all, how many people can say they are effectively bilingual？
I wanted to practise my Mandarin. But somehow, I kept gravitating towards the English-speaking because I felt I could “click” better with them. The Chinese-educated were, well, too…… cheenah, we used to say.
Yet, I loved the things the cheenahs loved - listening to Mandarin songs, frequenting lounges where Mandarin songs were performed live, watching Taiwanese variety programmes, reading Chinese books……
In a sense, I was torn between two identities. And I have to say, shamefaced as I am, being more proficient in English appealed to me more when the possibility of being effectively bilingual became almost non-existent.
Blunt as it may sound, people do look up to you if you speak good English. A strong command of English takes you places.
Sadly, because of this, many of my peers who are English-educated have become snobs, although not outright ones. Being English-educated has almost become a status. Which is why every time the label cheenah is used on someone, it sounds condescending.
Cheenahs take their revenge by calling the English educated kantangs - a Hokkien term which means “Potatoes”。 With all relevance, it describes people who grew up eating them, just like the Caucasians.
But this does not hide the fact that in a pragmatic society that prides the importance of English, the chinese-educated are at a disadvantage socially ,especially when seen through the eyes of the English-educated.
I have to admit that I nearly did fall into the trap of becoming a snob. Though not consciously, I had begun to use the label cheenah without much thought.
But, thankfully, being a kantang with cheenah interests has allowed me to stand apart from the rest. This identity, confused as it has made me at times, has opened my eyes to the subtle condescension I have often let go in the remarks I have made about the people I felt were so different from me.
The truth is - I love Chinese.
And I regret not having the right environment to pursue it for as long as I like.
（The writer is a third year student of School of Communication Studies, NTU. This article first appeared in The Nanyang Chronicle, NTU‘s students’ newspaper）
老實(shí)說,我喜歡華文
黃小燕
Cheenah 是形容詞,也是名詞,含有貶意,是很多受英文教育的新加坡人,對受華文教育的新加坡人的謔稱。
由中學(xué)華文教師會主辦,《聯(lián)合晚報(bào)》、《新明日報(bào)》贊助的全國中學(xué)生華語演講比賽大決賽。
我也時(shí)常不經(jīng)意的使用這個(gè)字眼。諷刺的是,我本身也有點(diǎn)cheenah.我的cheenah歷史不算光輝,但已“耀眼”得足以讓人驚訝—— 尤其是聽了我糟透了的華語之后。
我媽媽年輕時(shí),學(xué)的是馬來文而不是華文。在我讀小一和小二的時(shí)候,她時(shí)常要我用英文,寫出我所學(xué)的中文的發(fā)音。我翻譯了所有的華文課本,方便她測試我的“聽寫”能力。
這樣的練習(xí)加上后來補(bǔ)習(xí)的幫助,為我以后的好成績奠定了基礎(chǔ)。我媽媽要的是好的,所以,我的補(bǔ)習(xí)老師是個(gè)臺灣人。
四年級那年,我在學(xué)校的華語講故事比賽得了冠軍。其他時(shí)候,我不是排名第二,便是第三。老師還選我參加全國作文比賽。
升上中學(xué)后,我讀的是高級華文,并在 ‘O’水準(zhǔn)考得A2,甚至還參加了散文朗誦比賽。
但是,我不久便“失去”了華文——我已經(jīng)不需要再修讀這一科。因?yàn)槌：碗y得講華語的朋友在一起,我很快便變得和他們沒什么兩樣。
我得說我對此一點(diǎn)也不覺得驕傲。畢竟,有多少人有條件說他們精通雙語？
我很想練習(xí)我的華語。但是,不知怎么的,我和講英語的朋友卻越來越接近,因?yàn)槲矣X得和他們很“合拍”。受華文教育的人就是……反正太cheenah了,我們不時(shí)這么說。
然而,我喜歡的東西卻和cheenahs一樣——聽華語流行歌曲、到民謠餐廳聽現(xiàn)場華語流行歌曲演唱、收看臺灣綜藝節(jié)目、閱讀華文書籍……
在某種意義上,我在兩種認(rèn)同感之間感到左右為難。慚愧的是,當(dāng)精通雙語的可能性變得幾乎不存在時(shí),對我來說,掌握英文更具吸引力。
不必拐彎抹角,事實(shí)是,如果你說得一口漂亮的英語,人們會對你另眼相看。掌握英文的能力也能夠幫助你事業(yè)成功。
不幸的是,我的一些受英文教育的朋友卻因此而變得自以為是,雖然還不至于達(dá)到極端的程度。這也就是為什么cheenah這個(gè)綽號,用來形容一些人時(shí),帶著一種看不起人的口氣。
Cheenahs也回敬受英文教育者一個(gè)稱號kantangs——這是福建話,意思是“馬鈴薯”,用來形容像洋人一樣,吃馬鈴薯長大的新加坡人。
但是,這不能掩蓋事實(shí)。我們務(wù)實(shí)的社會非常重視英文,受華文教育的人,在社會上處于不利的地位,尤其是在受英文教育者的眼里。
我得承認(rèn)我也幾乎變得自命不凡。不知不覺的,我也曾經(jīng)用cheenah這個(gè)字眼來形容某些人。
但是,我和其他的kantangs不同,我是一個(gè)喜歡cheenah事物的kantang,這真是值得慶幸。這樣的身分,有時(shí)會讓我感到迷惑。然而,卻也讓我了解我對和自己不同的人所作的評語,常帶著許多不自覺的傲慢。
老實(shí)說,我喜歡華文。對于沒有一個(gè)適當(dāng)?shù)沫h(huán)境,讓我繼續(xù)的學(xué)習(xí)華文,我感到很遺憾。
。作者是南大傳播學(xué)院三年級學(xué)生。原文發(fā)表于南大學(xué)生報(bào)紙The Nanyang Chronicle,葉琦保譯