My mind was blank and yet completely filled with all of life’s possibilities. The beat of my heart, so loud, so fast, yet I’ve never felt such intense silence, calmness, and stillness. And this was all because an email came, with the title “Application Outcome”.
I didn’t do badly in school, and there was never a question of whether I would gain entry to a local university, but when that email came, all of my possible futures flashed through my mind simultaneously. Opening the email did not help with how I was feeling. It consisted of a single, very unhelpful message that my application outcome is available for viewing. Cruel as they are, they made me click a bunch of links and type in a bunch of details, only leading to a link of a PDF file with my name.
By now, you’ve read the title and you know the content of that PDF file, which is that I was indeed accepted into a local university. However, for me that moment was filled with more anticipation than I could bear.
For most 90’s kids in Singapore, going to university was something they expected in their educational journey since they were young. But additionally, most of us are the first in our family to receive the privilege of tertiary education. This phenomenon is called ‘First-generation college students’ in the US, but it isn’t a commonly known concept in Singapore. However with most of our parents growing up in a time where Singapore was not yet developed, I suspect that many local university students are also the first in their families to attend university.
In retrospect, my parents never really pushed me to achieve academic success. They thought it was unreasonable to expect from me what they themselves could not achieve. But I wanted to make them proud. I wanted to go to university so they could proudly (but totally casually) talk about it with friends or relatives. I wanted to be a badge they could wear and show off to others. But that’s not what happened.
I sent them a picture of the PDF file and what I got were questions on how much the school fees were and when they have to pay for it. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not upset by it nor am I criticizing my parents for asking these questions. It is my fault for having an overly romanticized view of the world, but this was my first wake-up call, that this journey might not be as smooth sailing as I imagined. It was going to be hard on my parents, and it’s definitely going to be hard on me too.
The first week of school was like an adventure. Everything was new and there were so many places to discover. But as each week passed, I understood less of what was being taught. I fell behind, deadlines after deadlines after quizzes. People always said university was hard, but I never took it seriously. If you told a 12 year old that university is hard, they would accept that fact. But then again, PSLE is not easy either, so who really knows what hard means? I certainly did not expect what I experienced.
I struggled in school, I wanted to give up, and I shared it with my mum, expecting her to lecture me about working hard and paying attention in class. Then, my mum surprised me again, and gave me my second wakeup call. Though she was very sympathetic to my plight, her questions were focused around what the school looks like and how it feels to be in such a big campus. She wanted to know my life in school. And in her eyes, I saw envy. I saw her living her life vicariously through me. It never really occurred to me that though I dreaded going to school everyday, my mother had never set foot in a university. Then all at once I feel so fortunate. So lucky to be able to go through the hardship, so thankful for the challenges thrown at me, so grateful for the chance to stare at my computer at 4am in the morning to meet my deadline.
Now as I approach the end of my first finals, I’m not entirely sure that I can pass all my modules. Studying is still not enjoyable, and I am still struggling. This might be the hardest educational journey of my life, but I will always be glad I had the chance to struggle.
Written by Valetta Teo
