Beyond Competitiveness
A Story about a Singaporean Youth
By Yeh Ze-how
Translated by Teresa Chang




Yeh Ren-hui is a member of the Tzu Chi Collegiate Youth Association in Singapore. When I first met him, his friendly attitude and boyish smile caught my attention. I thought he was also a college student, but actually he is a confident business manager. After graduation, he worked for a British corporation in Singapore. At age twenty-five, he had the status and income that other people of the same age would envy. Yet Yeh was not content with what he had. He wanted to make himself even better. With that in mind, he joined the Tzu Chi Collegiate chapter in Singapore.



When Singapore had just gained independence, Yeh Ren-hui was born into a typical Singaporean family. His father is a diligent worker and his mother a frugal housewife. He grew up to be quite thrifty. "When I was little, I never bought junk food or toys. I borrowed toys from my cousins."

"I couldn't afford not to work hard. If I slacked off, I would loose the race." His parents highly valued their children's education, for they believed it was the key to a bright future. They hoped Yeh would go to college. He did not receive high marks in his elementary and middle school days, but he was a star in his extracurricular activities. After four years of middle school education, Singaporean students have to decide whether to enter vocational school or college-preparatory school. In a highly competitive state such as Singapore, this choice leads to two very different paths. Yeh faced this choice in his fourth year in middle school. He believed that with his mediocre scores, going to college-preparatory school was an unattainable dream. But his older sister encouraged him to strive, and he did. The hard work paid off, and he made it into a competitive preparatory school by the skin of his teeth.

After he graduated, Yeh was accepted to the prestigious Nanyang Technological University. Not only did this realize his parent's dream, but it also boosted his own self-confidence. Not long after, he was drafted into the military. The law in Singapore stipulates that every young man must fulfill his service before attending college. So he entered the air force and spent two and half years in training school.



Officers' advice


"Most of the officers in the school were close to retirement and had a lot of life experience. They advised me to work hard to buy a house and not waste time and money like other young people do." He took their advice. After he left the air force, he entered college. In addition to studying hard, he spent virtually all his spare time working part-time in order to earn money. He once told a group of Tzu Chi Collegiate Youth Association members in Taiwan, "I once earned SG$7,000 in a month, which is equivalent to about US$4,500." This remark took all the students by surprise.

His fervent pursuit of money resulted in the loss of his beloved. While Yeh was in the air force, he had been going steady with a pleasant girl. They worked zealously for their future, but gradually grew apart. "Why can't we live like people in their twenties?" asked his girlfriend. They argued furiously and broke up when Yen was still a freshman in college.

The painful separation made Yeh examine his lifestyle and seek a way to repay society. He began looking for a charity organization where he could volunteer his services. One day he walked into Chinatown and happened to see the Tzu Chi Singapore branch office.

"A Tzu Chi volunteer told me that volunteers at Tzu Chi do not come on a whim. They see their volunteering as a responsibility to be fulfilled." Yeh was moved by the sense of responsibility the volunteers displayed, and he realized that this was what he had been seeking. That was in 1988. After that, besides studying, he wholeheartedly devoted himself to Tzu Chi activities.

In the beginning, there were not many Tzu Chi Collegiate Youth Association members, so Yeh joined adult volunteers and visited a sanatorium for the mentally ill, where they chatted and played games with the patients. Later, more collegiate volunteers joined, so Yeh devoted his time to organizing the youth group.

Along with just eight young core cadres, Yeh organized and held the first collegiate camp. His easygoing attitude and communication skills made him a natural channel between camp participants and the cadres. Having a high expectation of himself and the camp, Yeh sometimes got annoyed when the camp did not run according to the set schedule.

"For example, a lecturer was allotted forty minutes for his lecture, but instead spoke for one and a half hours. The only thing we could do was to change the camp schedule." Unexpected events like this were a good chance for Yeh to learn to keep composed and gentle. He reset the timetable and ran the camp steadily.

Although the camp was short (just two days and one night), it was well received by the participants. "Many were moved to tears by our sincerity and tenderness and opened up their hearts on the first night," said Yeh joyfully.



Free clinic on Batam


In Singapore, the hub of transportation in Southeast Asia, local Tzu Chi people frequently have the opportunity to support Tzu Chi relief missions and free clinics from other nations. Yeh once joined a free clinic held on the Indonesian island of Batam.

Held in a local air force hospital, the free clinic could only provide general internal medicine and surgery, yet thousands came to be treated. Yeh was assigned the work of assisting doctors in the surgical department by moving patients and taking documentary pictures of the free clinic.

Yeh observed that many patients inflicted with chronic illnesses such as tumors could not afford to receive any treatment. All they could do was to endure the pain for years. "There was a little kid around two or three years old. He was born with a harelip, his father had a tumor, and poverty had driven his mother away from them. The arrival of the free clinic gave them the chance to be treated. However, for some terminally ill patients, the free clinic came too late. If we had gotten to them sooner, more could have been saved." Witnessing the suffering caused by poverty saddened Yeh, but it also made him thankful for what he had. However, he also saw the glorious side of human nature among all the suffering and misfortune. "A child with harelip was abandoned by his parents. Although the child was of Chinese origin, a Malay family adopted him, and they brought him to this free clinic to be treated." The trip was a powerful eye-opener for Yeh, and he realized that international relief should be carried out promptly.



An apple and an orange


After graduating from Nanyang Technological University, Yeh joined a British corporation and entered the competitive international market of Singapore. The heavy pressure and workload did not make him a less caring person. He still abides by Tzu Chi's spirit of gentleness, open-mindedness, honesty and sincerity.

Although he joined the corporation just half a year ago, he has already entered the managerial ranks and has been given a company car. He does not curry favor with his supervisors, play office politics, or purposely compete with his colleagues, but his sincere work attitude has paid off.

Yeh recalled that at the job interview, the interviewer asked him if he would sell a rotten apple if asked to do so. Most interviewees would reluctantly reply that they would sell it. Unexpectedly, Yeh gave a fantastic answer that made a formidable impression on the interviewer: "Yes, I would sell it on condition that the apple does not harm the client. Furthermore, I would also give the client an orange." With this, Yeh defeated the other applicants and got the job.

When he started work, like most freshmen, he did not know how to cope with the new environment and suffered some setbacks. Yet he did not loose faith in others. He thought to himself, "Tzu Chi people can treat everyone sincerely, and I shall do the same!" Thus, he has been nice to everyone in the company. A coworker's unfriendly manner does not linger in his mind-he simply lets it slide off his back quickly. "If you treat people with sincerity even when they are mean to you, they will gradually change." Yeh's relationships with others have indeed changed for the better.



Beyond competitiveness


Young, well-paid and with a high status, Yeh possesses what many envy. As Singapore aims to become a more internationally competitive nation, potential talents like Yeh's are valued. Yet he is more than capable-he is a caring individual. In Singapore many parents want their children to study hard, work hard, earn a lot, then retire in their forties and sit back and enjoy life. Indeed the demanding environment and competition from Chinese and Indian high-tech experts who have immigrated to Singapore force local people to slave for their companies on weekdays. Then to release pressure, they party wildly at the weekend.

Yeh still hopes to buy a house and retire at forty-five, but instead of squandering his time away, he will do Tzu Chi work. "I believe that we all live on this globe and not just in a confined nation, so we have to care about what is happening in the world. Life is more than working and partying."

In Singapore and many other countries around the world, members of the Tzu Chi Collegiate Youth Association show that there is more to life than being capable and competitive. Caring for others will make one a better person. Working for oneself and working for others are not incompatible. Yeh Ren-hui is a good example. At work he strives for his future, and after work he strives to spread love in the world.

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