Truett goes to school

We’ve survived Truett’s first exams, somebody pour me a stiff drink!

Post exam happy.

I used to look at moms of Primary-schoolers getting all frazzled over something so trivial as Primary 1 exams(??!) and think that I’d be different. I’d be cool. I’d make learning fun and exciting. I’d help them to develop a love for learning. Hahahahahaha.

Wellllll, I’m not. Turns out that I am the very definition of a tiger mom. More assessment books! More test papers! What break?? Face book and study!! You do not get off this chair until I say you’re done. The concept of relaxed laissez-faire learning is a nice thought but it’s nonsense because Truett will laissez-faire his way to the iPad all day if he could.

We’ve been all about learning through play (code for “here’s some lego, have fun!”) the past 6 years and I wanted to push Tru to see how much hardcore studying he could take.

Truett hitting the books even while we’re out grocery shopping.

On Wednesday, he came home with the results of his English paper.

“I got 28/30 and my teacher gave me stickers!” he said excitedly.

I took a moment to process the information. Ok not bad, 28. Then for a split second, I thought “Why only 28?? Why not 30? What happened to the other 2 marks? That’s 2 WHOLE QUESTIONS WRONG. WHAT HAPPENED HERE??? Did you know that last time, mommy used to get full marks for almost every paper right up till Primary 3?”

Except it was last time. Last time, policemen wore shorts. Last time, mommy was in a school where pooping in your pants in class was considered normal. Last time, getting an education wasn’t this hard. It hasn’t been last time for a long time and now, kids have to answer questions about stupid Cheryl’s birthday that present-day mommy can’t solve without the help of a youtube video.

So I turned on the enthusiasm and said “CONGRATULATIONS!! Great job, Tru!! Mommy is so proud of you!!!”

He beamed.

Yesterday, he got the results of his Math paper.

“How did you do???” I asked when I saw him.

“I got 23…” he said.

It took me even longer to process this information. 23. That’s…mediocre at best. I immediately thought about all the extra hours we’d have to put in during the school holidays, maybe start him on some of those Unlock Your Inner Math Genius type of class. What is the appropriate response to a 23? Maybe dial back on the congratulatory enthusiasm and go with a “Good effort, mommy’s proud of you. We’ll go through the questions together when you get the paper back ok?”

“But not out of 30. It’s 23 out of 25,” he continued.

PHEWWWW!!! I don’t know if he noticed but I was visibly relieved. Very much so. I could work with 23/25. That’s not so bad. We can hold off on the classes; several more assessment books from Popular should suffice for now.

“Awesome job, Truett!! That’s amazing, well done!”

He’ll be getting his Chinese paper back today and I’m keeping my fingers crossed that it’s ok but I’m mentally prepared for this.

Navigating this world of academic learning is very new to me. I have my thoughts on standardised testing at such a young age (WHY IS THIS NECESSARY FOR 7-YEAR-OLDS?) and academic results aren’t everything, I know that. I certainly wasn’t planning on being so involved. But I’ve pushed him to do well because he has to sit for an exam that will put a label on his ability and I want him to know that he can do this.

More importantly, what I really wanted him to learn was the value of tenacity, diligence and hard work. Or as Walter White would say, “APPLY YOURSELF!”

After having spent an entire semester pursuing a formal education, I asked Truett what’s the best part about Primary School and he practically yelled “SCHOOL HOLIDAYS!!”

Nice. His favourite part about school is not being in it.

Was I really expecting a different answer though? Because I’m not even going to pretend like it wasn’t also my favourite part about school when I was a kid. But I thought maybe I should play my responsible mom card and try to inject some level of enthusiasm into the other parts of his school-going experience, particularly the parts where he’s actually in it. So I went with a leading question and asked him about his favourite subjects. Hopefully there are some that he actually enjoys.

“PE! I get to play with my friends during PE, you know? PE is the best.”

“Good choice. Yeah PE is really fun. Um, how about your next favourite?”

He thought for a while. Either he had too many favourites or none at all. Probably the second one.

“English is also quite fun.” he said, after a considerable pause.

“English! Phew! That’s my favourite too! Why do you like English?”

“I always get 10/10 for my spelling and my teacher will give me a smiley face sticker.”

This wasn’t always the case. The first couple of times he had spelling, he came home with 4/10. Then it got worse. 3/10. I’d try to teach him the words and he would tell me about how much his head hurt, or he was so bored, or that he needed to poop. Practising spelling or 听写 always magically made him want to poop. On the bright side, he didn’t have to worry about constipation during those first few weeks of school.

Then one spelling day, he came home with 10/10. From that point on, it seemed like everything changed. He started getting full marks every week and he would rush home to show Kirsten his happy emoticon sticker.

Spelling practice didn’t make him want to poop anymore. He actually WANTED to learn! He would spend his afternoons writing the words over and over again in his little practice book and even when I had to take a timeout to feed Theo, he’d get Kirsten to test him on the words until he nailed every single one of them. Suddenly, he wasn’t tripping over bark or tea like he used to. He was spelling fire-engine and vintage car like a pro.

“Helicopter? So easy.” were his exact words. Now can be so hao lian.

What changed? I’m not really sure. I’m guessing it’s both confidence and the satisfaction that comes from knowing that he’s good at something. When he was convinced that he couldn’t do it, spelling practice seemed as painful as eating glass shards. But once he started getting good at it, spelling became like a super fun piece of cake.

“Hey Tru, how about Chinese? 听写 can be quite fun too, right?” I asked, perhaps a little too enthusiastically.

“Hahahahahahahha good one, mom. Chinese is not even a little bit fun. Chinese is zero fun.”

Well, that was worth a shot.

Truett starts Primary One next year and this whole school enrolment is supposed to be like a big deal. Alumnis! Parent volunteering! School Advisory Committees!

I feel like I should be more anxious about this but I haven’t done any volunteering and my alma mater doesn’t even exist anymore so all I have at this point is a list of all the schools within 1km of our house (C’mon, phase 2C!). There are 5 around here and none of them are the Ivy League equivalent of Primary Schools in the country. Just regular neighbourhood schools that may or may not ruin his future. Kidding!

So how important is it to get into a school with pedigree? I don’t know, I’ve never been to one.

I spent 6 years in Ping Yi Primary School. Exactly how bad was it? Back then, there were Primary 7 & 8 students who would gather and smoke outside the school gate and I’d have to walk through a cloud of smoke on the way home everyday. There was a kid in class who excreted in his pants all the time. One of my teachers had the most bizarre accent (she was really old) and I could understand like at most 30% of all the words that came out of her mouth. I guess it was so bad they decided it had to be shut down permanently.

But it was also a place where I had some really great teachers. In Primary 2, my English teacher gave me a copy of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory and that was my introduction to the wonderful world of Roald Dahl.

I learnt most of the academic lessons I needed to learn in that school, plus a little bit more. Like how it’s down to me to work hard for what I wanted even if the conditions weren’t the most ideal. To apply myself and make the most of what I had because nobody owed me anything. Also, to identify the smell of poop in the seat next to mine and get the hell away from it as quick as I could. And after 6 years, I think I did ok.

If I could, I’d like to give my kids a shot at the very best schools available. But the odds of them getting into Raffles or Nanyang or Tao Nan is close to zero and we’re ok with that. We’ll take our chances with the 5 schools available nearby and hopefully, the kids don’t turn out as delinquents.

Balloting starts next week, wish me luck!

My little man Truett graduated from playgroup last week, with a killer performance and everything. I watched him get jiggy on the stage and it was like he boogeyed the remaining shreds of his babyness right off.

And my heart almost burst.

httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XqyMltQNgsY

A year ago, he put on his uniform for the first time and stood at the school gate looking apprehensive. He held my hand tightly with his little one, refusing to let go even though momma said “Bye sweetie, I love you” for the 27th time.

Not this time. This time, he took my hand and walked me into his class to show me all the art pieces he’s done.

When it was time for his performance, he gave me a wave, got up on that stage with his newfound friends and started grooving to the beat, looking all confident and debonair.

Next year, it’ll be a new school and a new chapter. But for now, I’ll play that video on repeat for another couple of days while I try to hang on to my 2-and-a-half-year-old boy for just a little while longer.