When my kids were little, I used to say that it would be okay even if they did poorly in their exams. But deep down inside, I never quite meant it. Having survived Singapore’s rigorous educational system, I fully expected them to do at least as well as I did, and I had every intention of channeling my inner Tiger Mom to make sure it happened.
What I said was: “Just do your best!”. What I meant was: “Do whatever it takes to succeed!”
I had this romantic memory of pulling all-nighters with a table filled with mind maps prior to my exams. We used to call it “mugging”, which was to cram as much information into one’s brain through repetition only to forget all of it immediately after the exam.
I wanted my kids to have the same tenacity and therefore, it made sense that they needed to go through the same pain in order to develop determination. It was with a terrible schadenfreude on my part that I actively hoped to walk in on them working on a math paper late at night with the same look of desperation I used to have. I would then be able to play the understanding mom card and say “It’s okay, son, go to bed, don’t worry about the exam.”
That never happened.
I did walk in on them watching YouTube videos way past bedtime several times. For the record, those videos weren’t even remotely related to math.
The real test came when my oldest son sat for his PSLE last year. In preparation for the exam, we enrolled him in Chinese and Math tuition classes, bought him assessment papers to work on, and spent time tutoring him on English and Science. It was a very painful time for everyone involved.
When he finally received his PSLE results, he delivered the news in his usual nonchalant manner. “Um, it’s not that great. I got 196.” I considered for a moment if I was being trolled, as he would call it. I had hoped for a high 250 and was mentally prepared for the 230 range, but sub 200? Could it really be possible after all that tutoring and preparation?
I was about to retort with a “Haha, good try. Now tell me the real results” but I detected a flicker of disappointment in his eyes and decided to change my approach.
“Hey Tru, it’s okay. We’ll figure this out,” I told him instead.
Over the next few days, we took some time to come to terms with what the results meant. Beneath the facade of bravado, I could tell that he was disappointed and even a little worried about the year ahead. We hugged him and after he felt better, we charted out possible routes for his educational journey.
The results did mean that his choices for a secondary school were severely limited. He selected six schools within the vicinity of our home but got accepted to none of them. Instead, he got into a school about 40 minutes out by train. It wasn’t ideal, but we had to work with what we had.
Do results really matter?
In short, yes. But perhaps not as much as we think it does.
Every major exam funnels kids into different tracks based on their ability and our version of meritocracy essentially means that the smartest kids get to have first pick of whatever they want to do in life. Want to be a surgeon? Of course. Pro gamer? Somewhat overqualified, but sure. Water sommelier? Go for it.
Kids who don’t do as well have their choices limited at each turn and they have to work extra hard for some of those opportunities to open up for them again. Statistically, it’s harder for a child in a lower-tiered secondary school to nail straight As in their ‘O’ Levels—not impossible, but more difficult.
And this could be due to a combination of factors like being in the company of less academically-inclined friends, or having poorer access to facilities, or having teachers who need to spend time dealing with behavioural issues instead of working on the curriculum. It is possible for kids to overcome these challenges but the odds are certainly not in their favour.
In two weeks, my daughter will be sitting for her PSLE and we will get to enjoy this fun experience again. Armed with the lessons of having one child take his PSLE, I have gotten better at picking up the signs of anxiety and for what it’s worth, Kirsten has been considerably less stressed out compared to her brother.
Which is not to say that we are easing off on the tuition classes or dreaded assessment papers. We still hope that she does well because at this point, what we want for them is to have options and good results guarantee those options remain open.
The silver lining
If there is a silver lining in all of this, it’s that Truett looks much happier than he did during his entire P6 year. Looking back on his bouts of insomnia, moodiness and withdrawal—all signs of anxiety—it’s clear that the stress of PSLE had taken a toll on his mental well-being. I had put it down to teenage angst but since starting Secondary One, he has been looking decidedly untroubled. He’s back to being cheerful and chatty, and I’m secretly very pleased to see that mischievous twinkle in his eye again.
I asked him how he managed to overcome the moodiness from last year and he said without hesitation, “Last year was bad because of PSLE; it was very stressful. Secondary school is so much more fun.”
And there’s that. Finding joy in the journey.
One of my fondest memories of secondary school is playing basketball with my friends after class. I never got to be a professional basketball player but all of those hours spent in training counted for something because it was fun. That’s exactly what I want for my kids, for them to enjoy the process.
I’m still going to make them do assessment papers and give them long pep talks about the value of hard work and a small part of me still wants to witness them endure the suffering of pulling a pre-exam all-nighter, but I’ve also come to fully embrace the fact that it’s going to be okay even if they fail.
All they have to do is try.
Bonus Video
I prepared 7 parenting tips for coping with PSLE stress, and sat down with Kirsten to get an honest review on them.
