Primary pressure
Forget enjoying your youth; being a child in the city state is serious business. Five-year-olds are expected to know how to do addition and subtraction sums, as well as spell words as difficult as 'disguise' - all in a test environment.
Am I exaggerating? The other day, I grappled with explaining a tricky equation to my five-year-old son. When I raised the issue with his school teacher, she acknowledged that it was well above a five-year-old's abilities, but said: 'We have to do it, parents want this.'
Yes, the rat race starts early. And so does the school day. A debate on the 7.30am start, even in primary schools, has raged in the local newspapers recently.
The problem is compounded by the fact that primary-school pupils are often not accepted in the establishment closest to their home because of a complicated application process favouring special ties (such as affiliation to the school's church, siblings already enrolled, or parents who attended the school).
So, you could live five minutes from a school (as I do), but your child is not guaranteed a place - and as my son was born in a Year of the Dragon (a very popular sign), his chances, as a non-Singaporean, are zero. Indeed, he may be sent to the other side of the island, which means getting out of bed at 5.30am for the school-bus run to start classes at 7.30am.
Some frustrated parents and children have written complaints over the system's unfairness and are worried about their children's mental and physical well-being. But others, of the 'it-never-did-me-any-harm' school of thought, are wondering whether Singaporeans are pampering their children too much.
Given the homework that my three-year-old daughter is given every weekend by her nursery, I'd say that the pressure is ridiculous.
In the past three years, the Ministry of Education has embarked on an ambitious programme to change the kiasu mentality - a vicious cycle of pressure on children who fear losing to others - among schools and parents. Far too often, parents are concerned about grades and the school's academic achievements that they view as the only way to progress in life (this is, getting in into the best schools and landing a lucrative job with Singapore Inc).
While Singaporean students are respected for their mathematical and scientific abilities, they are also renowned for being unable to think outside of the box.
Of course, when my three-year-old's multicoloured frog gets criticised by the teacher for not being green, the education ministry will have an uphill battle in changing mentalities.
