Being the worst of the best — my thoughts after graduation
Tags: Teens, Education, Self Love, Growing Up

Image from ATALIAN Global Services

I want to believe that there is more to life as a student than school, grades, competing and constantly worrying about what to do next. But everyone who has been through it would know, its not always that easy.

So I guess this is my formal introduction to those who are reading. Without giving too much away, I am an 18 year old student from Singapore, who just graduated from one of the most prestigious schools in my country. And if there is one thing you should know about Singapore — class, privilege and name is everything. Or at least the way the education system operates makes it feel like it is. Students are heavily banded based on their grades from the age of 9, forced to choose a school at 12 that supposedly fits their academic abilities based on their score on a national exam called the PSLE (Primary School Leaving Examination) and continue to be sifted and segregated all the way until we find and carve our own way in education.

Perhaps this is why we have academically one of the best education systems in the world — it makes us competitive, pushes us to work harder, and once we are at the top, fight to stay there. But it also made me blindly chase a goal for its title and prestige, the drug- like feeling of being better than others being my driving force to succeed, and without even realising it, my good academic results became the only thing I was proud of myself for. I always thought hard work was all I needed to succeed, but when the time came where I could no longer use my academic results to define my worth, I realised that I no longer had anything to flaunt and no reason to stand out. Hard work is and was never the endgame, for sometimes my best will not be enough and I have to find a way in myself to accept and be comfortable with that amidst the harsh reality of being among peers who continue to thrive in this rat race. Sometimes I would look around my classroom at classmates who did well academically, and wondered what it would be like to excel in my studies. Would I be happier if I did? I’m not sure of my answer to this day.

As time progressed and self doubt started to snowball, my friends’ goals and aspirations become merely pipe dreams for me because I subconsciously told myself that they were out-of-reach anyway. Suddenly I was discounting all my achievements, all my past and potential ones. A pony competing in a major racing event with experienced race horses does not automatically make it worthy of being there. I used to be the best in my grade? Oh I was just lucky that year. Somehow it felt like I was scammed into thinking I was good enough, when in actuality I was just an under-average student punching way above my weight. The worst part for me was feeling less than my own friends, and that I was the one who made the choice to put myself through it.

Above all, especially because I came from a school that was highly sought after and of which many looked up to, there was an unwritten expectation for me to behave a certain way. For many years “What school are you from?” felt like such a taboo topic to avoid, for every impressed look of admiration would be one more person that believed I was better than I actually am. I knew I could not live up to the preconceived expectations society had for me and what I should be, yet I was bounded to a name that I neither deserved nor could live up to and that was emotionally exhausting for me to live with. It only hit me much later that the reason I was so ashamed of myself was because I let my grades determine my worth and how I should be treated.

When I was much younger one of my teachers used to tell me that when we entered the real world we don’t walk around with our report cards hanging from our necks, and I never truly understood what she meant until much recently. More than petty numbers on a sheet of paper, I have character, moral values and a personality I should pride myself in, and I’ve grown to realise that is leaps and bounds more important than grades.

To whomever is reading this who might share the same sentiments, school was never and will never be the years I want to repeat again, but I cannot deny that they were also some of the best years of my life thus far. I stumbled, fell and and got trapped in my own mental abyss just like everyone else, but I also learnt and continued moving forward no matter how hard the journey was, and that is more than I can ask for myself. I like to believe that all my struggles are not in vain if I grow from them.

All the years where I was trying to find my place while dealing with what felt like my world crashing when my grades fell, there was one thing that many of the adults in my life told me time and time again — set realistic expectations. After a long time considering and grappling with what I should do with that piece of advice, I have decided that I refuse to, because there is no reason why I should. I once came across a quote by Michelangelo that said “The greater danger for most of us lies not in setting our aim too high and falling short; but in setting our aim too low, and achieving our mark.” I figured that even if I were to fail, I would much rather fail knowing I aimed for the best and continue believing I would get there eventually, rather than fall short of an already low mark and have nothing to strive for. I think ‘realistic expectations’ are just overrated, empty words of comfort.

There is a line in one of my favourite songs by John Mayer that goes “there’s no such thing as the real world/Just a lie you’ve got to rise above”. Somehow the ‘real world’ people try to make me see is full of lies and transient constituents that make me yearn for superficial, ephemeral things instead of the fulfilment of the journey itself. I know I’m only 18 and have only seen a glimpse of it but I know so much — I don’t want to lead my life aiming to supersede competition for mercenary and material end-goals. After all wherever I go, there will always be someone better and I’ve come to realise that that’s okay. Reading a book just to say I finished it faster without attaining anything from the story is as good as not reading it at all. My journey and my best is mine to keep and uphold, and destinations are more meaningful with a good journey to go along with it anyway. :-)