The Disappearing Dialects: What Dear You Is Really Teaching Us

Many people ask why Singaporeans are so passionate about the Teochew movie Dear You.

Some argue that cinemas should screen more dialect movies. Others disagree.

I believe we are asking the wrong question.

The real question is this:

In another 30 to 50 years, who will still understand our dialects?

Most of the people rushing to watch Dear You in its original Teochew version belong to the older generation. They grew up speaking Teochew, Hokkien, Cantonese, Hakka or Hainanese at home. The dialect in the movie reminds them of their parents, grandparents and childhood.

But time is moving on.

One day, this generation will no longer be with us.

Many young Singaporeans today cannot speak dialects. Some are not even comfortable speaking Mandarin. As each generation passes, another piece of our cultural memory quietly disappears.

A dialect is far more than a way of speaking.

• It carries family stories.
• It carries humour that cannot be translated.
• It carries values.
• It carries affection.

It carries Qing Yi (情义): that unique blend of care, integrity, gratitude, loyalty and courage that gives relationships their depth.

When a dialect disappears, we do not simply lose vocabulary.

We lose an entire way of seeing the world.

That is why Dear You touches so many hearts.

• It reminds us of our grandparents.
• It reminds us of handwritten letters.
• It reminds us that love once travelled slowly, patiently and faithfully.

Most importantly, it reminds us what it means to be human.

Instead of arguing whether more dialect movies should be shown in cinemas, perhaps we should ask a more important question:

How can we help the younger generation learn and appreciate our dialects before they disappear?

• Imagine schools introducing simple dialect appreciation programmes.
• Imagine grandparents recording family stories in their own dialects.
• Imagine young people learning a few everyday expressions from their elders.
• Imagine films like Dear You inspiring conversations across three generations.

Every dialect preserved is another bridge connecting the past with the future.

In the AI era, machines can translate languages instantly.

But no machine can recreate the warmth of your grandmother calling your name in her own dialect.

Technology can preserve information.

Only people can preserve culture.

And that begins with something as simple. and as profound, as speaking the language of our roots.

Perhaps that is the greatest lesson of Dear You.

It is not merely asking us to remember a dialect.

It is asking us to remember who we are.