Teo Quotes

No hetero, but damn, Teo, your wings!" Niya circled Teo back onto the boat. "Does this make me a furry?

Where's your binder?" Teo asked. Xio gave him a confused look, his hand automatically moving to his chest. "No, I mean with the trading cards and stuff," Teo corrected.

I’m only good when I’m with you, Teo,” I say, and then, because it’s so pathetically true, I swallow hard. “I’m at my best when I’m with you.

He smiles, and I know that win or lose, Teo Luna and I are made of a strong foundation. What he and I have together is the best thing we’ve ever built.

When Teo didn't respond, Aurelio added, "Or is this some new workout routine I'm not familiar with?" Teo mustered all the energy he had left go alre. "Either help me, or be an ass," Teo wheezed. "Not both.

Người Kinh như con ma rừng, đi đến đâu, nơi ấy vốn đang hay đang đẹp lụi tàn dần hoặc được làm cho "hay" hơn, "đẹp" hơn rồi...chết. Cái hồn rừng hồn núi mộc mạc thật thà teo tóp cả. Chà, người Kinh, cái giống người kinh...hãi của núi rừng

You know, it’d be a lot easier to hate her if she wasn’t so hot,” Niya huffed. “You say that,” Teo panted, “about everyone.” “It’s not my fault we’re all really hot, Teo!

For a long time, Maurice rubbed his shaved head in his palm, until at last he looked up at his student. "Teo, I think you have to let Deu be the God he is, not the god you want him to be.

No hetero, but damn, Teo, your wings!” Niya circled Teo back on the boat. “Does this make me a furry?

I know how syrupy this sounds, how dull, provincial, and possibly whitewashed, but what can I do? Happy childhoods happen

Niya leaned in to whisper in Teo's ear "What's a fortnight?" "I don't fucking know," he whispered back.

Did I hit a soft spot? Are you mad?" Teo tipped his head to the side and stuck his bottom lip out. "You look mad." Aurelio huffed. "Shut up." Teo grinned. "Make me." In a flash, Teo was thrown backward off his feet once again.

With that, Aurelio followed his sister inside, leaving Teo alone with the mazapan and an ache in his chest. He hadn't noticed how Aurelio's body heat had been keeping him warm until it was gone.

You just have to be careful with Momma for a while," Teo told me. "She's broken. Like a jug with a broken handle that you try to glue back together. It looks all right, and it'll still hold water. It's still a good jug. But you better not ever try to pick it up by the handle. You have to wait for the glue to dry, and even then it might not hold.

Aurora prefirió olvidar. Teo no tuvo elección.

Teo had once claimed that human history began with a storm: the interval between lightning and thunder, between flash and rumble felt in the body's core, was primitive man's first experiences of time -- the awakening of consciousness, the birth of the gods.

Inequality, in fact, is a logical outcome of meritocracy. What the education system does when it selects, sorts, and hierarchizes, and when it gives its stamp of approval to those 'at the top,' is that it renders those who succeed through the system as legitimately deserving. Left implicit is that those at the bottom have failed to be deserving.

When the waiter brought the cheese-board, there was a large carrot carved in the shape of a mermaid sitting between the Dolcelatte and the Pecorino. Teo could have sworn that the carrot-mermaid flexed her tail and plunged her little hand inside a smelly Gorgonzola. 'Tyromancy, ye know,' remarked the mermaid. 'The Ancient Art of Divination by Cheese.' Then she pulled her tiny hand out and inspected the green cheese-mold on her tiny fingers. 'Lackaday!' she moaned. 'Stinking! It goes poorly for Venice and Teodora, it do!

I was never sure what possessed Guy and Teo, 2 alien princelings to land in Paris that day.

Đất nước này vốn dựa vào thần thánh, vào anh hùng mà sống, rồi bỗng dưng hai thứ đó vắng teo.

The respect I am accorded are conditional on my participation in society as an economically productive and relatively wealthy person. It has little to do with my inherent right to respect as a human being and member of this society.

Our national discourse emphasizes sacrifice, community, greater good. Our institutions, our everyday lives—they regulate and compel individualism, competition, self-centeredness.

low-income parents find themselves having to do this immensely difficult thing: they have to tell hteir kids to listen to them and yet also send them the message “don’t be like me.” It is difficult to exercise authority under these conditions. To have one’s parenting practices be unintelligible, unacknowledged, deemed less worthy, is a profound form of attack on the self, especially when being a parent is a central part of one’s identity.

Teo propped his chin in his hand. "The Quetzlan priests always made me hot chocolate when I couldn't sleep. We're just feeling a bit homesick, is all." He lifted his shoulder in a shrug and sighed theatrically. Dulce's eyebrows tipped with concern and she clasped her hands. "Aren't we?" He turned to give Niya and Xio a pointed look. "Oh yes, very homesick," Niya agreed, bobbing her head enthusiastically. It took Xio a moment to catch on, but then he nodded, too.

Some people say that we like wolves because they remind us of our dogs, but it is my assertion that we like our dogs because they actually remind us of our ancestral link with wolves, of the freedom that we still carry dormant, deep in our cells.

There is something about picking up a book you've never seen before, reading the blurb on its back cover and knowing that you could possibly enter a whole new fascinating world if you took that book home. And in a bookshop or library, this possibility feels infinite.

She became invincibly beautiful: the clarity of her cheeks, her little ankles, and the lucid poetry others projected onto her blank expression.

No hetero, but damn, Teo, your wings" Niya circled Teo back on the boat. "Does this make me a furry?

Erinevad arvamused kunstiteose kohta näitavad, et teos on uus, keeruline ja eluline. Kui kriitikute arvamused lahku lähevad, siis on kunstnik iseendaga kooskõlas.

Low-income parents do not necessarily make more ‘bad choices’ than parents with higher income, but more of their practices turn out to have negative outcomes. It is more accurate to say that they have bad options for managing the need for money and the need of their kids for care

They allow us to feel like we belong to the groups we care about, that we are rooted in, and that we need respect, acceptance and love from. As the title of (Allison) Pugh’s book suggests – we long for things because we long to belong.

I feel like I’m constantly straddling teo worlds. Too white to be Asian, too Asian to be white. It’s like I’m tricking everyone on both sides, trying to convince them that I belong, when truthfully, I’m not even sure exactly where I fit.

Venčali smo se u aprilu u maloj kancelariji na Juston skveru. Nismo zvali roditelje. Ni Boga. Keti je tražila da ne bude ničeg religioznog. Izrecitovao sam molitvu u sebi tokom ceremonije. Nemo sam Mu zahvalio zbog te neočekivane, nezaslužene sreće. Teo

We who have the power to make choices disproportionately shape outcomes and limit options for people who don’t have the power to make choices. It follows that if we don’t share the power to make choices, we will never see a change to those things we say are bad or unacceptable to our society. When those of us who have the means maximize our own children’s and our own families’ advantages, we are contributing to strengthening norms about achievement, success/failure, that undermine our fellow citizens’ well-being.

His lips fell back against mine and in the blink of an eye, our bathing suits were shed. He fisted my hair and tilted my head off to the side, nibbling down my neck as he sucked marks against my skin. I felt my pussy heating for him. I felt my toes curling as he kissed down the valley of my breasts. He cupped them forcefully, massaging and tweaking my puckered peaks as I moaned and squealed and whimpered. “Teo,” I whispered. He growled. “Already so wet for me.” He slid two fingers inside of my body and my back arched dangerously. He crooked them against that pebbled spot as his thumb slid against my clit, and already I felt my ending approaching. I fisted the bed sheets as he pumped his dexterous fingers, tickling that sweet spot that made my eyes widen and my jaw unhinge with silent pleasure. An unearthly drone bubbled up the back of my throat as my orgasm crashed over me. But, nothing felt even remotely wonderful compared to the feeling of his cock sliding between my legs. “Holy fuck,” he growled. He pinned my wrists above my head and pounded against my body. My tits jumped for his viewing pleasure as he planted his knees into the mattress. My legs locked around him as I opened myself up for his assault. His thick dick, sliding against my walls as they clamped around him. My body, puckering at every movement and every sound he graced me with. All I knew was pleasure. All I understood was his presence. And the only name that came to mind as my second orgasm approached was his name. “Teo! Holy shit!” I exclaimed. He grunted. “Come for me. Squeeze that tight little pussy ar—ound—oh, shit.” He slowed his movements long enough to work me through an ecstasy that crashed so hard against my body that my vision tunneled. My body shook and tensed. Contracted and released. Then finally, my back collapsed to the bed. I felt physically spent until Teo’s dick slid from between my legs. And automatically, I missed him.

There is insufficient attention to the fact that reward and punishment systems are not neutral. Not all qualities, skills, and capacities are equally valued in our society. Inadequate thought is given to the ways in which some of us set the standards against which others are measured.

Teos voi olla uskottava, vaikka se kertoisi kuolleiden ylösnousemuksesta, mutta se ei voi olla uskottava, ellei se tunnusta yksinkertaisia konkreettisia tosiasioita: ihmiselämän ehtojen ja hänen tajuntansa samankaltaisuutta kaikkialla riippumatta rodusta, iästä, sukupuolesta, kansallisuudesta ja älynlahjoista.

Kako je tvoja glava morala da radi, pisao mu je brat Teo, kako si se ti izlozio opasnosti odlazeci do one krajnje tacke gde je vrtoglavica neizbezna... ne valja se upustati u tajanstvene oblasti, koje po svemu sudeci covek nekaznjeno sme samo da okrzne, ali ne i da u njh zadje. A on iz tih "tajanstvenih oblasti" izlazio nije.

Niya took over the interrogation. "How do these Celestials keep finding us?" "Oh, don't know. probably because you're all cosplaying as glowsticks right now?" Xio said sarcastically. The trio looked down at their illuminated suits and then at one another. "Okay," Teo sighed, "That does seem like an obvious one we should've considered sooner.

What we do & do not do are shaped by our sense of how others are - shared understanding of right & wrong, good & bad, valuable & worthless.

„Distanța de la New York pînă la California e ca de la moarte pînă la viața de apoi” (locus amoenus)

What does the anticipation feel like? The sensation of staring into the void, the awareness of an end’s impending arrival? Burning and being extinguished simultaneously?

Ne wonders what it is like to burn, staring at one’s ending right around the corner, and yet not knowing how the end will come, when one will be fully consumed by the void.

Men are good to a limit, God is good beyond limits.

Mobility and immobility are at once spatial and temporal—they are about movement through places and also changes over time.

The wolf carries a galvanizing, yet gentle power.

Like wolves, humans are social beings. But, unlike wolves, we often don’t treat each other with the respect and compassion we all deserve.

We make meaning through our everyday lives - in small activities and through relationships. These are moments of potential beauty. They are the acts that make us human.

It is disingenuous to claim that all tracks are good and all paths valued; if this were the case, and if Singaporeans actually believe this, tuition centers would be out of business.

Matteo didn't lick a woman's pussy because he felt obligated, or at the very least not mine. I might have argued he enjoyed it more than I did if he wasn't so damn good at it. That talented tongue explored every part of me, thrusting in and out until I whimpered. When he turned his attention to my clit, it was so he could slide a finger inside me. I clenched around him on a cry, feeling the way he moaned in response vibrate through me. He withdrew that finger, only to add a second and curl them to stroke that spot inside me that made me quiver. "Teo," I whimpered, and the sound of his name seemed to push him over the edge. He wrapped his lips around the bundle of nerves at the apex of my thigh, sucking gently. My legs tightened around his head; my hand buried in his hair to hold him exactly where I wanted him as I shattered in a blinding orgasm that stole my ability to function. I laid there, panting and trying to regain my ability to move. When I opened my eyes, it was to Matteo shoving his own underwear down his legs and kicking them off. He pulled his fingers free of me and spread my legs wide from where they'd wrapped around his head. Sliding up my body, his hips lined up with mine so he could grind his length against my wet core. His lips found mine in a bruising, claiming kiss that seemed even more primal because he tasted like me. He reached down, sliding himself through my wet and notching his head at my entrance. Pulling away from my lips, he groaned, "Tell me you're mine." Still recovering from my orgasm, I nodded in a daze. "Words, Angel. Give me the words." "Yours," I murmured, cupping his cheek with a delirious smile and tugging him down to kiss him again. He slid inside me slowly, filling me until there wasn't a single inch that couldn't feel him. "Fuck," he groaned against my mouth. He reached down, wrapping my legs around his hips. Our foreheads pressed together; our mouths not quite touching as he started to move inside me. Even without his lips on mine, I could taste him, taste me in his breath on my face. One of his hands grabbed mine, our fingers intertwining while he wrapped his other under my shoulder to hold me where he wanted me. He slid in and out in slow, hard thrusts.

The Berkeley psychologist had called Dev "self-possessed" and at the time, he hadn't been exactly sure what that meant, but as he played chess with Clare, the word suddenly made perfect sense. The same way Teo and Cornelia belonged to Clare, Clare belonged to herself. Clare liked being Clare, the same way that Dev had always (even when he was friendless and invisible) liked being Dev.

Ouch," Teo groaned. Aurelio was at his side in a blink, pulling him to his feet. "Thanks," he grumbled, shaking out his wings. "You're the one I should be thanking," Aurelio replied with a self-conscious quirk of his lips. "OH, FINE! I see how it is!" Niya came stomping down the dock, dripping wet. "Aurelio gets an airlift but I gotta swim?!" she demanded, wringing out her braids. "We've got bigger problems, Niya!" Teo shot back.

Embarrassed, Teo slid down in his seat and scrubbed his hands over his face. “I’m glaring at him with disdain, I’m not ogling!” he said, much quieter this time, but he knew he wasn’t convincing anyone after that display. Niya laughed. Xio at least had the decency to try to cover his chuckle with a cough. Teo groaned, but when he looked up at Aurelio again, he coud’ve sworn he saw Aurelio glance away, the corners of his lips twitching up.

Miracle is a beautiful word and it is not used often enough in my opinion. It comes from the Latin word for ‘wonder’, and it is a reminder of the higher intelligence and energies that are part of the multi-dimensional world we live in.

with simultaneous wars in Baja, Tamaulipas, and now Michoacán. Keller has to admit that the violence is unprecedented. Even at the height (the depth?) of Barrera’s war against Güero Méndez, back in the ’90s, the fighting was sporadic—brief sudden peaks of violence—not a daily event. And not spread across three broad areas of the country, with multiple and interconnected antagonists. The Alliance fighting Teo Solorzano in Baja. The Alliance fighting the CDG/Zetas in Tamaulipas.

What we do and do not do are shaped by our sense of how others are — shared understandings of right and wrong, good and bad, valuable and worthless. The pathways and practices we end up taking are rendered meaningful by shared scripts and narratives that permeate our society.

Tu sei… un maiale, ecco cosa sei,” ride Teo, dopo essere venuto. “Ma ho anche dei difetti.” “Non ne hai nessuno,” risponde piano, dopo qualche secondo passato a fissarlo. Lo accarezza con un amore e un affetto infiniti. “Non so nemmeno da dove arrivi, sembri uscito da un sogno. Ma sei perfetto.” Davide lo stringe forte a sé e sospira. Sarebbe stupido dirgli che pensa di arrivare dal futuro. Sarebbe sciocco e pericoloso. Matteo potrebbe credere di avere a che fare con un pazzo e… beh, no grazie. “Grazie,” gli risponde e lo bacia, per tenerlo occupato.

Maar neem al diegenen die hun medemens uitbuiten, gemene huisbazen, politici – die duizenden mensen uitbuiten en weten wat ze doen, en het hun hele leven doen, en uitgekiend ook. Dat zijn de echte misdadigers, dat zijn degenen die zich moesten schamen tegenover hun vrouwen en kinderen, hun god. Zo ben jij niet, Ramon. Helemaal niet.’ Ramon liep rusteloos heen en weer, rokend. ‘Daar is een heel eenvoudig antwoord op, Teo. Zulke mensen hebben geen geweten. Anders zouden ze geen oog dicht doen. En dan waren ze algauw dood. De wereld zou veel beter af zijn, dan kan ik je verzekeren!’ Spel voor de levenden

In sociological literature, meritocracy is widely recognized as a system for sorting, selecting, and then differentially rewarding people; it is a system for legitimizing the process and outcomes of sorting, based on narrow notions of what is worth rewarding and what is not. And it works well when there is, what Pierre Bourdieu referred to as “misrecognition.” Misrecognition happens when we think that a system is based on a certain set of principles when it really works on the basis of another, when we think it rewards each individual’s hard work when in reality it rewards economic and cultural capital passed on from parents to children.

En cuanto a los relatos acerca de cómo fue aherrojada Hera por su hijo o cómo, cuando se dispo­nía Hefesto a defender a su madre de los golpes de su pa­dre, fue lanzado por éste al espacio y todas cuantas teo­maquias inventó Homero es posible admitirlas en la ciudad tanto si tienen intención alegórica como si no la tienen. Porque el niño no es capaz de discernir dónde hay alegoría y dónde no y las impresiones recibidas a esa edad difícilmente se borran o desarraigan. Razón por la cual hay que poner, en mi opinión, el máximo empeño en que las primeras fábulas que escuche sean las más hábil­mente dispuestas para exhortar al oyente a la virtud.

Many people are calling Manti Te’o “dumb” or “naïve” because he fell for the “invisible girlfriend” hoax or catfishing but when you think about it. Religion MIGHT be doing the same thing when it tells you that there is a “God” that you cannot see, or meet, that loves you, & “communicates” with you thru a book (bible).Does that make sense?

We make meaning through our everyday lives--in small activities and through relationships. These are moments of potential beauty. They are the acts that make us human. The inclination by class-privileged women and men to reject the domestic realm because we see and know that it is the sphere of less power--it is an inclination that gives up too much and we must claw it back. In the process, we must also work to expand the space for everyone to meet their needs--make real choices, partake in the mundane, live lives, be human. To do this, we need reasonable employment conditions across the class spectrum and social policies that are not class-biased but genuinely supportive of all families. No one should have to be super in order to be human.

for higher-class parents, children are ‘projects.’ They have tightly scheduled lives and coordinated activities; high-income parents spend significant time and energy thinking about how to fulfill their kids’ ‘potentials.’ For the working class and poor, Lareau argues, parenting is more about ‘the accomplishment of natural growth.’ Top priorities in these families are safety and health.

Through the discourse and institutionalization of meritocracy, the narrative of large-scale upward mobility is thereby made concrete at the individual level. The connection between national success and individual merit is a powerful public and private narrative that shapes those who've arrived, those in motion, and those standing still. To return to the two people who quipped about cold showers and bed bugs, we could say that the national narrative of mobility is powerfully grafted onto their individual narratives of worth

I worry where the mynah birds are hiding. I get a sinking dread about their well-being. I open my eyes and peer into Circe's face. She looks calm, almost beautiful. The darkness in her room is inky and tinged with cobalt blue. The air fizzles like television static. Circe mumbles and draws me towards her. She breathes on me, my mouth no more than three inches away from hers. She smells like Kodomo lion toothpaste and Gardenia bread. I know from this moment that these two things will always remind me of her, with a flinch, an ache. And maybe because of this, over time I will learn to avoid them.

Yes, that’s the one. Aaron, I want you to acquire the company tomorrow. Start low, but I want you to end up offering at least fifteen million for it. Actually, how many partners are there?” “I see two registered partners. Michael Teo and Adrian Balakrishnan.” “Okay, bid thirty million.” “Charlie, you can’t be serious? The book value on that company is only—” “No, I’m dead serious,” Charlie cut in. “Start a fake bidding war between some of our subsidiaries if you have to. Now listen carefully. After the deal is done, I want you to vest Michael Teo, the founding partner, with class-A stock options, then I want you to bundle it with that Cupertino start-up we acquired last month and the software developer in Zhongguancun. Then, I want us to do an IPO on the Shanghai Stock Exchange next month.” “Next month?” “Yes, it has to happen very quickly. Put the word out on the street, let your contacts at Bloomberg TV know about it, hell, drop a hint to Henry Blodget if you think it will help drive up the share price. But at the end of the day I want those class-A stock options to be worth at least $250 million. Keep it off the books, and set up a shell corporation in Liechtenstein if you have to. Just make sure there are no links back to me. Never, ever.

Tú eres el único que podría leer este libro, Delante de esa cámara más que visible, «siento por primer vez la tentación de hacerme un autorretrato para ti». Dibujar una imagen de mí mismo como si fuera tú. Drag you. Travestirme en ti. Hacerte volver a la vida a través de la imagen. Ahora ya estáis todos muertos: Amelia, Hervé, Michel, Karen, Jackie, Teo y Tú. ¿Pertenezco yo más a vuestro mundo que al mundo de los vivos? ¿Acaso mi política no es la vuestra, mi casa no es la vuestra, mi cuerpo no es el vuestro? Reencarnaos en mí, tomad mi cuerpo como los extraterrestres tomaban a los americanos para convertirlos en vainas vivientes. Reencárnate en mí, posee mi lengua, mis brazos, mis sexos, mis dildos, mi sangre, mis moléculas, posee a mi chica, mi perra, habítame, vive en mí. Ven. Ven. Please don't leave. Vuelve a la vida. Hold on to my sex. Low, down, dirty. Stay with me. Este libro no tiene razón de ser fuera del margen de incertidumbre que existe entre yo y mis sexos, todos imaginarios, entre tres lenguas que no me pertenecen, entre tú-vivo y tú-muerto, entre mi deseo de portar tu estirpe y la imposibilidad de resucitar tu esperma, entre tus libros eternos y silenciosos y el flujo de palabras que se agolpa para salir a través de mis dedos, entre la testosterona y mi cuerpo, entre V. y mi amor por V.

To confront inequality is to confront this incoherent ideology, & ultimately to confront ourselves, our incoherent selves.

But a writer cannot draw her readers into an uncomfortable conversation if she herself does not carry the discomfort so palpably.

Dignity is like clean air. You do not notice its absence unless it is short supply. You do not realize how much you need it, how important it is to you, until you don't have it. We could also say, idealism is like clean air.

It is about how seeing poverty entails confronting inequality. It is about how acknowledging poverty & inequality leads to uncomfortable revelations about our society & ourselves. And it is about how once we see, we cannot, must not, unsee.

In situating the lives & experiences of a group within the larger social context, the book is an ethnography of inequality rather than a catalog of poverty. Why ethnography? Studies of inequality often treat it primarily as a question of numerical trends. It is that of course, but it is also, importantly, experiential. The everyday experiences of inequality are crucial for shedding light on how it is enacted & the price paid by people low on the social hierarchy.

the poor' are not outside of systems, nor exceptions to dominant trends. Their circumstances are key components of shared social realities.

It is their everyday reality to see that everyone else appears to have 'moved up' & established some semblance of comfort while they alone are 'left behind.

When we pose these questions, we are saying the problems at stake here are not just about 'them', but also about 'us'. We disrupt the tendency to use the higher income, higher-educated as the norm against which all persons are measured.

Inequality is often studied as an objective fact, a question of numbers. It is of course that. But the numbers are derivative - they are drawn from patterns of social realities but do not fully describe the realities themselves.

The biggest barrier to understanding poverty & inequality, for people with varying degrees of power, status, influence, is their, our vested material & symbolic interests in its perpetuation We are so deeply implicated in our national & individual narratives of growth, development, & meritocracy, that we have trouble confronting & seeing stories that trouble these narratives.

To study poverty without inequality leads to tendencies to misrecognize structural issues for individual failings.

For the low-income, it is a city of limited movement - their lives are characterized by physical hardship & a strong sense that they will go nowhere. The qualities they & their children have - of resilience, independence, & generosity - have little legitimacy & standing in this shining global city.

There is a belief that low-income persons have a tendency to make 'bad choices' that perpetuate their poor conditions, particularly when it comes to parenting. Second, that they have a tendency to avoid employment & become reliant on state support. Here, the belief is perpetuated through public policies that place 'dependence' front & center as that which is to be avoided. Both of these prejudices are empirically inaccurate & profoundly damaging.

The piece was about some of the challenges low-income parents face, about how they care greatly for their children, & about how they have poor options rather than make poor choices.

But the purpose of pointing out that people care under different class conditions is to urge that we should improve conditions for all so that everyone can care better, not so that anyone can give up care responsibilities to paid caregivers.

My career-centered path should not be read as a rejection of the domestic & care aspects of life.

We make meaning through everyday lives - in small activities & through relationships. These are moments of potential beauty. They are the acts that make us human. The inclination by class-privileged women & men to reject the domestic realm because we see & know that it is the sphere of less power - It is an inclination that gives up too much & we must claw it back.

For higher-class parents, children are 'projects'. They have tightly scheduled lives & coordinated activities; high-income parents spend significant time & energy thinking about how to fulfill their kids' 'potentials.' For the working class & poor, Lareau argues, parenting is more about 'the accomplishment of natural growth'. Top priorities in these families are safety & health. [...] This is partly because lower-income parents experience hardships in their adult lives & want to shield their children from having to deal with tight schedules & overwork in their childhoods. In any case, financial constraints prevent them from approaching parenting as projects.

The different educational tracks are meant to cater to different learning needs, but they also result in different exposure to learning. [...] while higher-track students are developed to become civic agents, lower-track students are prepared to become obedient citizens.

The reality, then, is that parents experience deep limitations as they try to navigate their children's schooling; [...] Nagging, screaming, sometimes beatings, resistance, tears - these seem par for the course in parent-child interactions as parents try to help with homework.

It is difficult to fault parents for wanting the best for their children, but it is important to notice that this type of campaigning is not class-neutral: it comes more easily to people who have themselves succeeded in the system & understand its logic.

The people who eventually make it to the top of a social hierarchy, via the ladder of former education, are seen - both by themselves & those below them - as meritorious & deserving.

In theory, all educational paths can lead to reasonable lives & decent well-being. In reality, their limited educational credentials will put them in similar low-wage jobs as their parents. It is disingenuous to claim that all tracks are good & all paths valued; if this were the case, & if Singaporeans actually believe this, tuition centers would be out of business.

[...] detrimental effects of tracking students according to narrow criteria of academic abilities is that students in low tracks often think of themselves as poor learners & thus do not try as hard as students in high tracks who think of themselves as capable.

There are some positive things to an education system that has multiple tracks. Kids are not completely thrown out - there are still tracks open to them, which prevents them from dropping out of school altogether. At the same time, however, there also appears an irrational outcome: most of these kids appear to be of regular intelligence & do not have learning disabilities, but they are labeled 'slow' from a young age.

we are not immune to the voices of others. We depend strongly on teachers' assessments & understandings of our children. We evaluate our children according to what seems 'normal' in our society. For many low-income parents, a sense of resignation sets in. An acceptance of a child's poor results & lacks come to define the dynamic within the family.

The home environment of low-income kids is indeed not always conducive to studying. Spaces are small, family relationships are sometimes tensed, material hardships are persistent. But this could be said to be the case for many Singaporean adults who now find themselves middle-class in contemporary Singapore. Many of my peers grew up in exactly these 'not conducive' environments.

Inequalities are also reproduced by the individual choices of those who have the power to make choices. This implies an extremely uncomfortable conclusion for those of us in positions to make choices: the choices we make, even when we think are just about us, are in fact also about others.

We who have the power to make choices disproportionately shape outcomes & limit options for people who don't have the power to make choices. [...] When those of us who have the means maximize our own children's & our own families' advantages, we are contributing to strengthening norms about achievement, success/failure, that undermine our fellow citizens' well-being.

It is becoming increasingly clear that a high-stakes, examination-oriented education system exerts cost on parents & kids across the class spectrum. We should care because we are losing potentially valuable human resources. We will all grow old in societies populated by other people's children; our well-being depends on their capabilities.

In popular parlance, we refer to 'at-risk youth' or 'juvenile delinquents' as if they automatically arise from 'bad neighborhoods' or 'dysfunctional families.' The unspoken presumption is that youth 'go astray' because parents are neglectful. The more generous rendition of this view points to how busy parents are with trying to make a living. In the neighborhoods where I did my research, it was often parents themselves who were expressing worries about their kids.

Parenting is not merely about keeping children alive. While children above a certain age no longer need constant supervision, family relationships make a big difference to parents' & children's well-being.

Memories sustain us - they tell us who we are & to whom we're connected. We surround ourselves with photographs so that we can look at these happy moments & remember we belong to somebody, some people belong to us, & we are not alone. The photographs in the album are thus not merely physical objects. They evoke the pleasure of an unusual weekend of leisure. For families who live everyday lives under intense time & money pressure, they represent the memories of things other than housework, emotions other than stress, & shared moments between family members beyond instructions or quarrels.