“Oh, you have a twin sister! And what’s she doing now?”
I hesitated, anticipating what was about to come next. “Studying medicine too,” I said.
“Wow! Your parents must be so proud.”
This whispered conversation with an OT nurse must have been replayed a dozen times. I thought about what she’d said earlier—parents these days were sending their kids to a myriad of enrichment and tuition classes, prepping for the GEP (Gifted Education Programme) test since P1. My chest hollowed at the thought.
I have never attended a single tuition class in my life.
A Childhood of ‘Play’
I thought back to my childhood. The years before I turned six were spent shuttling between Singapore, China, and briefly, Canada. I didn’t start learning English till I was on the brink of starting primary school.
So what was I doing, then, before P1?
From one to three years old in Singapore, as soon as we could walk, my mum and dad would bring us outdoors and to the zoo every other day, so much so that they grew sick of seeing the animals—but we never did.
(yes, this is Palawan Beach at Sentosa :”))
My most vivid childhood memories began in the half-year we spent in Canada. We’d go out hiking in the woods, my sister and I each carrying our own small backpack. We’d pick maple leaves and trample in the snow. On the days spent indoors, my sister and I would make up adventures with our koala and bear soft toys for hours on end.
I remember drawing and painting—my dad would hang up every single one of those creations; my mum would comment on each and select her favourites—as if they were really of great value.
When I turned five, we were back in China for a while. I remember going to the countryside—my parents’ rural hometown—plucking wild edible plants from the ground, feeding the pigs, and being chased by dogs.
We settled down in Singapore right before primary school. I remember frequenting the library to check out every non-fiction book on animals and wildlife I could get my hands on. The children’s fiction section was my other heaven.
We must have done some ‘learning’ at some point, for our parents taught us how to read and write Chinese somewhere in those years before primary school. They probably made it feel like play, or infused so much other activity in our lives that it never felt boring. It never felt like I was being forced to do anything.
I wish more kids had that childhood. One where play, creativity, and a wild sense of possibility were centre stage. Not enrichment classes stacked one atop the other.
Play allows children to use their creativity while developing their imagination, dexterity, and physical, cognitive, and emotional strength. Play is important to healthy brain development.
— Ginsburg et al., 2007, from the American Academy of Pediatrics
Falling ‘Behind’ in Life
We attended kindergarten in Singapore for a very short period before P1. I could not understand a single word of what anyone said.
One day a boy was sitting across from me, and he asked, “Are you Chinese?” I could not comprehend that simple sentence. The only syllable that registered in my mind was “-nese”. I racked my brains. Did he say “knees”? Knees meant 膝盖, I recalled.
My mum had bought us a big yellow book from Popular, My First 3000 English Words or something like that. Body parts was one of the first few sections—as is typical when learning a new language. So my limited vocabulary at that point did include body parts (but not much else).
That day in kindergarten, I sat there mute, unable to fathom why my fellow classmate was asking me about knees.
~~~
We learnt soon enough. By around P3, I’d say my English proficiency surpassed that of Chinese.
Was it a breeze? Probably not. Like how the ‘knees’ incident stuck in my memory, my sister specifically recalls not knowing what the word ‘brave’ meant when we started primary school. So, we were actually absolutely deficient. Absolutely handicapped. Very much ‘behind in life’ compared to other kids.
So what did we do about it? I don’t feel like we did anything special or anything intense. Of course, there were those days sitting in front of the small IKEA blackboard memorising the list of words my mum had written there. But mostly, we just went to school. Paying attention in class was literally enough to learn all we had to learn.
To make it clear: We did not attend a ‘brand-name’ school. We were in the most neighbourhood of neighbourhood primary schools. But we loved all our teachers and we’d always say, with pride, that our school was the best school ever.
Getting into GEP was like a fluke. We had no idea such a thing existed, until our teachers handed out forms for the test. Later on, every school we went to was the “best school ever”. Not for the fact that they were ‘top’ schools, but because we loved the environment and the people.
Throughout this whole process, I want to highlight three things:
1️⃣ I never felt deficient. Despite having this huge knowledge gap, I never felt like I was somehow inferior or un-whole. Maybe seven-year-olds just don’t have the notion of comparison built into their psyches. But above all, I think it was the supportive environment I had. My parents and teachers created an enabling space for growth and learning.
– A child’s mind should be filled with infinite possibilities.
2️⃣ I never did anything extra. Thinking back now, some parents in our family’s shoes might have panicked and sent their kids for hours of English tuition. I had none of that. I just went to school and paid attention in class. That was more than enough. Oh, and I absolutely loved the library. Both our school library and the public library were paradise—what more could a child ask for?
– Fall in love with reading as a child. It will serve you for life.
3️⃣ I was never exceptionally smart. If there’s such a thing as ‘child prodigies’, I was never one of them. I need to take time to learn things step-by-step. So that’s what I did and what I continue to do today.
– You don’t have to be ‘smart’ to learn. All you have to do is put in the time and the effort, one step at a time.
A Fixed vs Growth Mindset
Some would argue that there’s such a thing as innate talent, or some level of predetermined intelligence. The off-handed remark, “you must be really smart” (to have accomplished all this) conveys a very pernicious yet pervasive sentiment of both students and their parents today. First of all, intelligence comes in many forms (stellar grades being the least of them). Secondly, every ounce of this belief goes against the growth mindset (as popularised by Carol Dweck).
Individuals who believe their talents can be developed (through hard work, good strategies, and input from others) have a growth mindset. They tend to achieve more than those with a more fixed mindset (those who believe their talents are innate gifts).
— Carol Dweck, What Having a “Growth Mindset” Actually Means
To put it another way: “People who have a growth mindset believe that even if they struggle with certain skills, their abilities aren’t set in stone. They think that with work, their skills can improve over time.” (source)
People don’t realise that when they call someone “smart”, they undermine the hard work it took to get them there.
The truth was, I did work hard, but it never felt like hard work.
WHY?
Because I fell in love with learning.
Intrinsic vs Extrinsic Motivation
Ever since we started primary school, my dad would give us a pep talk before the school year. He’d always say, “Find the joy in learning. That is most important, above all.” And we did. I genuinely enjoyed going to school. Loved learning new content and new skills.
Those might have been the very roots of how I developed ‘intrinsic motivation’. This all happened before I even knew what the term ‘intrinsic motivation’ meant or that such a thing existed. There’s tons of stuff on this in psychology and in the litany of self-help content now flooding the internet. I’m not sure what they say about how to cultivate intrinsic motivation, but for me it boils down to this:
Enjoy the process.
It’s as simple as that. Even if you’re not driven by a tangible reward (like treating a kid to ice cream if he does well on a test), if you’re very much fixated on the end-goal and the end-goal only (getting a good grade on a test), I don’t think that’s true intrinsic motivation.
To me, true intrinsic motivation means I feel motivated to do this thing, right now, in front of me, every day. That only happens if I enjoy what I’m doing day-to-day. To be fair, I don’t always enjoy writing essays or memorising mindless statistics on the Chinese Communist Party (throwback to A-Levels CSC). I’m not supernatural. So how to find enjoyment? Or fulfilment? For me, it’s always learning. The ‘learning’ part is always inherently enjoyable. (Like how understanding the concepts of governance and society is intriguing. Even if churning out a thesis for a high-stakes A-Level exam is not.)
What Defines Success?
“Wow! Your parents must be so proud.”
Yes, my parents were happy when I got into medical school. Not because they deemed it some lofty altar of success, but because they were happy for me that I’d be pursuing what I love.
My parents never pushed my sister and I to medicine. Or to any other career, for that matter. There was never the notion that any one path is somehow ‘superior’ to another. And anyway, my parents are firm believers that we must choose for ourselves. We must enjoy and believe in what we do. Otherwise, it’s pointless.
And let’s say if you’re a housewife who dedicates yourself to maintaining a beautiful household and raising your kids to be people of character, isn’t that a wonderful life lived?
I hope you can see by now that this post has nothing to do with tuition or not. Tuition does have its benefits (although I also believe that it’s not always necessary). This is simply my story and how I grew up. If you have any thoughts, please feel free to comment below or drop me a message here. Dissenting opinions are always welcome.