Dreaming for Change

Natalie Shobana Ambrose (20 November, 2008 - theSun)

A few years ago, I was at a function where a group of children no taller that 1m were asked what they would like to be when they grew up. There was the usual doctor, lawyer, engineer responses and what have you when suddenly the crowd laughed when a little girl boldly declared she’d like to be a zoo keeper. I bet there were disapproving people around who thought she’d make a good nurse instead of a zoo keeper. I though, just wanted to know what wonderful parents she had who allowed her to dream and be proud of her dreams.

In primary school, at a certain time in each academic year, students have to fill the “When I grow up form”. Till today, I have no clue what the purpose of this was, except for comic relief years later. Even though I never ever wanted to be a doctor I penned the ‘right’ answer- I’d like to be a doctor first, then lawyer and I can’t remember what the third option was.

Honestly, I couldn’t care less what I wanted to be then. I was more interested in the Care Bears, Scooby Doo and Thunder Cats (HO!) than to think of life 20 years down the line. What I really wanted at that age was probably to be a superhero or stuff myself silly with ice-cream and cake while playing all day long with my cousins.

As I think about this little zoo keeper, and how proud she was of her answer, I thought, what if I’d written crocodile hunter under option 3- what would have happened? What if I said I’d like to be prime minister of Malaysia or a mechanic, a rubbish collector or even vice chancellor? I’m sure if I dared it would have been written in my report card that I was quite the dreamer and needed a huge dose of reality.

As adults we become so jaded that we forget to dream because our dreams were quashed a long time ago. We then end up being a barrier to the young dreamers among us crushing their spirit for change.

There is a danger though when we decide in our heads that our dreams are just dreams and not worth pursuing because of the prejudices and obstacles that abound or just because that’s the way things work while we take on a ‘what does it matter’ attitude. When we stop dreaming we stop wanting to see change and become complacent, hopeless and end up being dream catchers - instead of dream enablers.

This year many dreams came true at the ballot box for various countries - dreams of change and hope for a different few years ahead, for a better, more transparent, just, livable hopeful future. This change started with a dream, a dream that for many seemed impossible and a dream that if dreamt 20 years ago would have been quashed.

I spend an hour a week with a group of awesome teenagers, hoping that they continue to dream and become history makers and I believe they already are becoming history makers just by believing in their dreams.

Many times, I wonder where the dreamer in me went. Some days I think I’m too old to be a history maker and maybe I should be writing my bucket list so that I’m not too old to do it all. But I think we all can be history makers, by taking a stand, speaking up for what is right, for not accepting bad service, by being polite, for demanding accountability, insisting on transparency, disagreeing with marginalization and taking an interest in the country that we call home.

We should not let power, class, race, age or a quota system stop us from dreaming, hoping and wanting change. As small as we may think our voice is, our dreams still matter and carry weight. We don’t have to be an Obama to change the world, we can start by being polite to the foreign workers at the petrol station or even to our neighbors. We can start believing we can make a difference and stop being complacent about things only contributing to the Ugly Malaysian syndrome.

We should be more like the mother in the book “For one more day” who took her young son back to the library and rebuked the librarian for saying that the book he wanted to borrow was ‘too hard’ for someone his age.

Are we limiting our dreams and being left behind while the rest of the world aims much higher and achieves more than we can ever imagine?

Will you dare to dream the impossible for a better you and a better Malaysia and a better world?

Natalie thinks that we should all dream big and dream for change because dreaming is free.

Comments: letters@thesundaily.com

Gimme, Gimme, Gimme

Natalie Shobana Ambrose (6 November, 2008 - theSun)

I never knew biting into an apple was a luxury until I heard about life when my grandfather was alive. With 7 young mouths to feed, everything was shared equally including apples! It wasn’t that there was not enough for everyone, rather, the act of sharing needed to be inculcated from young and where better to learn than at home.

Many of us have probably never shared an apple. Or never even thought an apple could be shared. As a child, I remember each weekly trip to the pasar malam came with a reward of sugared jelly sweets. 200 grams shared equally with my siblings onto some tissue paper- once again, not because there wasn’t enough but because we needed to be taught about sharing… and we needed to be taught about greed.

Sharing my portion of sweets was very difficult, even when I couldn’t eat it all. As Oscar Wilde once said “There are many things we would throw away, if we were not afraid that others might pick them up”. I didn’t want anyone else to have my left-overs even if I couldn’t eat it all- because it was mine and I earned it. I want it all!

Greed is a funny thing, because it borders want and justification of what one thinks they deserve – a bottomless ugly pit. The more we have, the more we want. The more we want, the more we think we need and once we’ve convinced ourselves of this need and how much we deserve it- the more greed sinks its claws into us. Making us do things we’d rather not own up to. I suppose greed doesn’t matter if it doesn’t hurt anyone. But the very nature of greed is the fact that it takes away from others, and it never stops robbing.

Everyone’s talking about the global economic crisis, the stock market’s downward tumble and all the economic woes it brings. So where did all that money actually go? Large investment houses don’t go bust just like that? The piles of money are somewhere- it couldn’t have just disappeared. If we go to the heart of the matter- it probably started with greed. Greed for more and more and more when finally there was no more left.

I sometimes look at the world’s super rich and wonder how much money is enough. I admire people like Bill Gates, Warren Buffet, Barron Hilton, cooking goddess Nigella Lawson and the best 007 agent Sean Connery who have decided to give away their millions not to their children but to the world in need.

We Malaysians seem to have the ‘super-size me’ Mc Donalds syndrome. From the tallest towers, to the largest shopping malls, to mega infrastructure programmes and multi-billion dollar agreements…. Why not? After all we earned it and it shows that we are doing well, we’re progressing and prospering. But how many of these ‘project’s have lined the pockets of ‘people doing their job’.

Juxtaposed against the beautiful Twin Towers and the magnificent Putrajaya Bridge are the poor Penans, the stateless Malaysians, the poor armed forces who have to travel on the flying coffin Nuri, young children left behind because there isn’t enough money to build proper schools and the poor single mothers trying to make ends meet.


A few months ago, I visited Myanmar after Nagris had devastated a land already in turmoil. The people didn’t have enough- they didn’t have enough before Nagris, and they had almost nothing after. What touched my heart though was how fast those that ‘had’ wanted to help. As it was, they didn’t live in a lap of luxury- far from it, but they were willing to give up their little ‘luxury’ to help those who had nothing.


On one hand, we Malaysians want to be a developed nation and on the other hand we are willing to let our siblings suffer. When did we learn not to share our wealth and feed our greed?



Natalie wonders how different her life would have been had her grandfather “thatha” still been alive.

Comment: letters@thesun-daily.com