Commentary: I finally used my SkillsFuture credits - and it had nothing to do with work

SINGAPORE: Singaporeans generally fall into three groups when it comes to SkillsFuture credits.

The first are the roughly 30 per cent who have eagerly signed up for an incredible assortment of courses – all on government credit – likely in the hopes of advancing their skills for better career prospects.

The second are folks who are so busy Singaporean-ing, that they are either totally oblivious to the very existence of these credits or have simply given up making sense of it all - after one failed navigation attempt on the official site.

Then there are the other folks who look at all the credits they have on the MySkillsFuture portal and go “wah so much”, then log off for another six months before checking in again.

I am in that third group. 

SO MANY CHOICES, SO LITTLE TIME

It’s just that I’m crippled by options. There are so many courses that I want to take, and have such limited time to do so, that I eventually opt not to commit to any. Plus, the daily grind of kids, work, being a present husband and caring for my elderly parents, pretty much eats up my entire bandwidth.

Okay wait. There is some dishonesty there. There is also the element of hubris that I must admit exists.

After a 25-year career spanning television production, publishing, recruitment, venture capital and most recently, fintech, I’ve been up to my eyeballs in upskilling myself across multiple industries. 

What could I possibly find from the available courses (even though there are roughly 30,000 of them) that I hadn’t already learnt though intense hands-on training doing the actual job?

I truly felt that there was no way I could seriously benefit from any of the courses – unless I took it upon myself to take on a skillset that was completely off my scope, radar and comfort zone.

WHEN THE STUDENT IS READY, THE MASTER WILL APPEAR

But a couple of months ago, while watching a YouTube documentary on hip-hop history with my daughter, I was so overcome by the spirit of hip-hop that I exclaimed, “Man, I wish I knew how to DJ.”

Of course, the ever vigilant, all-hearing, and all-knowing listener in my family – the social media app on my phone – heard my cry. And soon enough, I was inundated with a slew of ads touting DJ instructional courses on my social media feed.

It was as if the SkillsFuture infrastructure was in cahoots with Facebook. The first three ads that beckoned me to pursue this hip-hop fantasy were all credit-exchange ready. 

In fact, the one that appealed to me most, a course offered by Hustle Singapore, bore the impressively sophisticated name Professional Sound Mixing and, conveniently enough, was just a few blocks away from my HDB flat.

There really was no excuse.

JUST BECAUSE YOU CAN DOESN’T MEAN YOU SHOULD

Okay hold up. This DJ course would in no way help my career. I’m a 50-plus mid-to-late career journeyman who has overindulged in the multi-job path. 

Learning to DJ, or rather “to professionally sound mix”, would neither increase my career prospects in fintech nor up my salary cache in any shape or form.

As I began to slowly scroll away from the allure of the digital ads – my wife, in her infinite wisdom, simply said, “Just do it.”

And with that it was a done deal. I signed up and almost immediately was met with a cheerful rep via WhatsApp, who guided me through a registration process that was in the most seamless, no-fuss way a government-subsidised programme could ever be.

Jokingly, I mentioned to the Hustle rep that I was probably going to be the oldest uncle in the two-day weekend course, to which her reply was, “Don’t worry, you won’t be.”

I LEARNT TO DROP THE BEAT

She was right. The class was a true rojak of Singaporeans from all walks of life. From the 20-something crowd looking to learn to mix Deep House to classically trained musicians and even older, ex-permed hair uncles looking to revive the best of canto-pop music, this cohort of DJ wannabes was as diverse as our national pledge makes us out to be.

The instructor, Zul, was a fireball of energy. He was clearly doing this out of love for the craft - he had been in the local music scene for years, dedicating himself to the culture of sound across a multitude of capacities and genres.

His expert instruction brought us from complete noobs to semi-competent mixers (I wouldn’t call myself a DJ yet) by day two – via a nerve-wrecking exam performance that had to be staged in front of the whole class.

It was an incredible and liberating experience. My upskilling endeavour had absolutely no bearing on my career. But what it did bring, most importantly, was the reminder that upskilling is just another fancy word for learning, and that the joy of it must be rediscovered on a regular basis.

To me, that is the one critical lesson that using my SkillsFuture credits has brought. That continual, active learning can only be sustainable if the joy of learning supersedes everything else, including practicality and purpose.

I’m now on the hunt for my next course as I still have a ton of credits left. And if anyone is looking for a budget-friendly DJ to spin at your party – feel free to slide into my DMs.

Imran Johri is a marketing and editorial professional and a father of three.