the rocky road to primary school
With June's imminent arrival, J and I have embarked on that trial-by-fire journey that every Singaporean parent has to go through: registration for Primary One. The actual dates for registration run from July to August, but since we are overseas, our process begins slightly earlier because we need to scan and email all the relevant documents for The Bun's enrolment.
Although we will not return to Singapore for Primary One, we need to register at the school of our choice in order to secure a place. If we wait till our return, we basically will have no options in choosing a school, alumni or not - we would have to take whatever the bureaucracy gave us. Call it what you want, but this is the game that is played in Singapore and you play it, not even to win, but simply to survive.
I spent a few hours online researching the registration process and knew it was time to back away from the computer when I came across various local parenting forums and their eye-opening discussions about the registration process, as well as school life. It's not like I don't know what the school pressure cooker system is like. I have a few close friends whose children are already in primary school and I often hear them venting about how tough life is. A friend's primary three daughter has been crying herself to sleep at night because of below average exam results. Another one has a daughter who is mocked by her classmates because her family doesn't own a car (WTF). Another child is constantly teased for being overweight and because her grades aren't very good. This child is so stressed that she has resorted to breaking pencils and scratching herself hard enough to leave marks. To most Singaporean parents, these stories are not unfamiliar ones. Everyone's in the same boat, trying to paddle as hard as they can against an unforgiving current. Miss a couple of oar strokes, and your boat begins to sink.
If I sound like I'm worrying before things have even begun, that's because it's just the way I am, a worrier at heart. Then again, it's also because I'm all too aware about the culture shock The Bun is in for when we eventually returns. Over here, the final school term of the year is drawing to a close and a couple of teachers have remarked on how far he's come since the beginning of the year. This morning I met his Reception year teacher who gushed about him in the school play and how confident he is now. She looked after him when he first began school two years ago, crying every morning for about a month, so she can obviously see the difference.
I can also see it. He is definitely a lot more confident now, especially in social situations. He has begun attending birthday parties on his own, when last year I still had to accompany him, like an awkward lampshade in the host family's living room. He will go on playdates on his own as well - after school he gets a ride with his friend, has lunch at their place, and then plays until I pick him up. He has even asked to go on a sleepover.
Anyway, he has thrived in this school because it is a small one where the headmaster and every teacher knows every single child. Even though it is located further away from us, I deliberately chose it because of its size and its reputation for good pastoral care. We actually live very close to one of the largest and most famous international schools in the city, but didn't consider it much because the reviews were mixed, bordering on the negative, and also because it had a huge school population. At recess, all the kids in the school are released at the same time - this means the tiny four-year-olds play in the same playground as the fourteen-year-olds. I'm sure some young children can cope with that, but The Bun would probably flounder in that sort of environment.
Back in Singapore it will be a different ball game. The size of the Primary One cohort alone is almost double that of the student population in his school. Instead of two classes per year, there will be thirteen (!) classes, all in hot competition with one another. The way in which subjects are taught, and the pace at which they are taught, will also be very different.
As I mentioned previously, The Bun's new hobby is to make or copy books. I'm supportive of this because it will improve both his handwriting and his spelling, both of which are atrocious - I have to work hard to decipher what he has written and often he can't even read his own handwriting! His teacher told me that we should give him help if he asks for it, but not loom over him, correcting all his mistakes. She felt that boys are often unwilling writers, and so any interest in it should be cultivated. Enthusiasm first; competence will develop over time. The Singaporean system tends to work the other way round.
All of the children in his class have been learning to read since Reception year and are of differing abilities. The teacher works with them in small groups and each child reads to a teacher three times a week, and to an adult at home every weeknight. There is no pressure to push the child into the next reading level just for the sake of it even if he is a fairly fluent reader. That's because although many emerging readers can read well, but their reading comprehension lags behind. That's the case with The Bun. When given a choice of books in a library, he almost always chooses non-fiction books because he likes how facts are facts. When reading fiction books as part of the curriculum, he has some problems predicting what characters may do next, or how they may be feeling. His teacher advised keeping him on his present reading level so that we could slow down and work on his comprehension. There is no sense of hurry for any of the kids in class; one of them is Russian and when she joined the class last year she didn't even speak English. Can you imagine learning two entirely new languages (English and French) and a new alphabet (Roman vs. Cyrillic)? They took their time with her, and she has also blossomed.
Unfortunately, in Singapore, there is never the luxury of time. And this is the root of many of my worries. No one is going to slow down, acknowledge the difficulties of an international relocation, or look out for him if he gets lost in the shuffle. If his academic learning is not on par with the peers in his age group, then it's too bad, isn't it? Why didn't we, as parents, buy stacks of kindergarten assessment books (argh!) to keep up with the national curriculum? On the other hand, why are parents (and children) punished for giving their children a relaxed childhood? This is the bind that so many parents are in; and even an ocean away, J and I are not spared too. That's just the way things are: board the train and stay on it, or get left behind. This may seem like an overly pessimistic viewpoint, but it is not a new one, and it is not an unrealistic one.
Anyway, my entire rant is slightly premature considering we haven't even jumped through the first hoop yet: registration. If all goes well and we get into the school of our choice, we will be applying for a Leave of Absence in order to retain The Bun's place until our return to Singapore. This is all standard procedure for overseas families. J and I are also considering red-shirting him (i.e. keeping him a year back), so that he will begin Primary One instead of Primary Two when we get back. It may be easier for him to be in a sea of equally blur kids in their first year than in the second year, when the kids already have established friendships and are used to classroom procedures. Based on what I can tell, he will also be academically behind most of the Primary One kids, so this may also give him some time to catch up. Whether this is at all possible is unclear - we'll have to clear the first hurdle first, and figure out the rest as we go.
The Bun is very excited to be move up to Year Two in the autumn because then he will be one of the biggest kids in the Lower School (despite being the youngest kid in his year!). He has enjoyed school so much this year that he complains on weekends that there is no school. It is this enthusiasm, this curiosity and passion for learning, that I really love seeing in him, and I am hoping, with a heavy heart, that we can try our best to keep that spark going.
Although we will not return to Singapore for Primary One, we need to register at the school of our choice in order to secure a place. If we wait till our return, we basically will have no options in choosing a school, alumni or not - we would have to take whatever the bureaucracy gave us. Call it what you want, but this is the game that is played in Singapore and you play it, not even to win, but simply to survive.
I spent a few hours online researching the registration process and knew it was time to back away from the computer when I came across various local parenting forums and their eye-opening discussions about the registration process, as well as school life. It's not like I don't know what the school pressure cooker system is like. I have a few close friends whose children are already in primary school and I often hear them venting about how tough life is. A friend's primary three daughter has been crying herself to sleep at night because of below average exam results. Another one has a daughter who is mocked by her classmates because her family doesn't own a car (WTF). Another child is constantly teased for being overweight and because her grades aren't very good. This child is so stressed that she has resorted to breaking pencils and scratching herself hard enough to leave marks. To most Singaporean parents, these stories are not unfamiliar ones. Everyone's in the same boat, trying to paddle as hard as they can against an unforgiving current. Miss a couple of oar strokes, and your boat begins to sink.
If I sound like I'm worrying before things have even begun, that's because it's just the way I am, a worrier at heart. Then again, it's also because I'm all too aware about the culture shock The Bun is in for when we eventually returns. Over here, the final school term of the year is drawing to a close and a couple of teachers have remarked on how far he's come since the beginning of the year. This morning I met his Reception year teacher who gushed about him in the school play and how confident he is now. She looked after him when he first began school two years ago, crying every morning for about a month, so she can obviously see the difference.
I can also see it. He is definitely a lot more confident now, especially in social situations. He has begun attending birthday parties on his own, when last year I still had to accompany him, like an awkward lampshade in the host family's living room. He will go on playdates on his own as well - after school he gets a ride with his friend, has lunch at their place, and then plays until I pick him up. He has even asked to go on a sleepover.
Anyway, he has thrived in this school because it is a small one where the headmaster and every teacher knows every single child. Even though it is located further away from us, I deliberately chose it because of its size and its reputation for good pastoral care. We actually live very close to one of the largest and most famous international schools in the city, but didn't consider it much because the reviews were mixed, bordering on the negative, and also because it had a huge school population. At recess, all the kids in the school are released at the same time - this means the tiny four-year-olds play in the same playground as the fourteen-year-olds. I'm sure some young children can cope with that, but The Bun would probably flounder in that sort of environment.
Back in Singapore it will be a different ball game. The size of the Primary One cohort alone is almost double that of the student population in his school. Instead of two classes per year, there will be thirteen (!) classes, all in hot competition with one another. The way in which subjects are taught, and the pace at which they are taught, will also be very different.
As I mentioned previously, The Bun's new hobby is to make or copy books. I'm supportive of this because it will improve both his handwriting and his spelling, both of which are atrocious - I have to work hard to decipher what he has written and often he can't even read his own handwriting! His teacher told me that we should give him help if he asks for it, but not loom over him, correcting all his mistakes. She felt that boys are often unwilling writers, and so any interest in it should be cultivated. Enthusiasm first; competence will develop over time. The Singaporean system tends to work the other way round.
All of the children in his class have been learning to read since Reception year and are of differing abilities. The teacher works with them in small groups and each child reads to a teacher three times a week, and to an adult at home every weeknight. There is no pressure to push the child into the next reading level just for the sake of it even if he is a fairly fluent reader. That's because although many emerging readers can read well, but their reading comprehension lags behind. That's the case with The Bun. When given a choice of books in a library, he almost always chooses non-fiction books because he likes how facts are facts. When reading fiction books as part of the curriculum, he has some problems predicting what characters may do next, or how they may be feeling. His teacher advised keeping him on his present reading level so that we could slow down and work on his comprehension. There is no sense of hurry for any of the kids in class; one of them is Russian and when she joined the class last year she didn't even speak English. Can you imagine learning two entirely new languages (English and French) and a new alphabet (Roman vs. Cyrillic)? They took their time with her, and she has also blossomed.
Unfortunately, in Singapore, there is never the luxury of time. And this is the root of many of my worries. No one is going to slow down, acknowledge the difficulties of an international relocation, or look out for him if he gets lost in the shuffle. If his academic learning is not on par with the peers in his age group, then it's too bad, isn't it? Why didn't we, as parents, buy stacks of kindergarten assessment books (argh!) to keep up with the national curriculum? On the other hand, why are parents (and children) punished for giving their children a relaxed childhood? This is the bind that so many parents are in; and even an ocean away, J and I are not spared too. That's just the way things are: board the train and stay on it, or get left behind. This may seem like an overly pessimistic viewpoint, but it is not a new one, and it is not an unrealistic one.
Anyway, my entire rant is slightly premature considering we haven't even jumped through the first hoop yet: registration. If all goes well and we get into the school of our choice, we will be applying for a Leave of Absence in order to retain The Bun's place until our return to Singapore. This is all standard procedure for overseas families. J and I are also considering red-shirting him (i.e. keeping him a year back), so that he will begin Primary One instead of Primary Two when we get back. It may be easier for him to be in a sea of equally blur kids in their first year than in the second year, when the kids already have established friendships and are used to classroom procedures. Based on what I can tell, he will also be academically behind most of the Primary One kids, so this may also give him some time to catch up. Whether this is at all possible is unclear - we'll have to clear the first hurdle first, and figure out the rest as we go.
The Bun is very excited to be move up to Year Two in the autumn because then he will be one of the biggest kids in the Lower School (despite being the youngest kid in his year!). He has enjoyed school so much this year that he complains on weekends that there is no school. It is this enthusiasm, this curiosity and passion for learning, that I really love seeing in him, and I am hoping, with a heavy heart, that we can try our best to keep that spark going.