Recently, I have started working at a reputable tuition centre for English. The primary school children who go through the tuition’s program have successfully secured high grades, proving the tuition’s effectiveness. When I went in as a trainee and took a class for the first time, I had a culture shock. Kids were crying over tough spelling tests or bursting into tears abruptly, and I had no idea how to handle the situation. My mentor told me that this is a normal occurrence. The students are simply so stressed out with the need to perform that they break down to relieve that pressure.
At their age, I was skipping ropes, playing with my friends, running around the school yard, stirring all kinds of mischief. Never once did the thought of studies cross my mind.
As I grew older, I took my studies more seriously as the stakes became higher; national examinations largely determine our futures (or so we were told), and we just cannot afford to screw it up. It got to a point where my classmates were skipping recess to catch a nap after burning the midnight oil, or to cram in more revision instead of getting a bite. It makes me think of that carefree child skipping ropes and running in the courtyard — where did that kid go?
In Singapore where there is a large emphasis on academics, the pressure is insurmountable. From parents, to teachers, the competition between classmates, the pressure to do well academically is enforced as it provides a gateway to better futures; a narrative familiar to most of us. While the government has tried to ease this pressure and lean towards a more holistic education, the mindset of the general population is still unchanged, favouring educational achievements amongst all things else.
We run the country like it is a business; where humans are only resources and dispensable, where only the best is nurtured to its full potential and the rest are left somewhat abandoned. If you replace the word humans with any other resource like metal, or water, it makes sense in terms of efficiency and producing the most output with the least input and wastage. When it comes to human resources however, it is entirely different. Children require more than intellectual nurturing, but emotional, social and psychological development. Atop the suffocating academic, the lack of emotional, social and psychological development results in a multitude of psychological problems. In fact, about one in three youth in Singapore has reported internalising mental health symptoms such as sadness, anxiety and loneliness. It is foreseeable that this number will only rise, particularly after what I have witnessed at my tuition centre. Anxiety over performance and societal judgement are almost inevitable.
In the midst of sieving out and training the cream of the crop, we lose our childhood innocence, happiness and carefree nature, chasing after things that don’t really matter or hold water at the end of our life journey. This has been especially salient after coming into university and realising people really do come from all walks of life, and have different stories and journeys. We may not all be moving at the same pace, but progression comes all the same.
Sacrificing recess for that 1 extra point in O Levels seems rather silly now that I’m looking back in retrospect. It makes me question in the most Singaporean tone possible – “for what?”