I flunked the IP.

If you judge a society (or government) by how she treats the less fortunate, the aged and the poor, I guess you also judge her success by how she deals with failure? 

Today’s papers started off with this headline: “I flunked the IP”. 

Well, you don’t get to see that often and 26-yr-old Edwin Chaw is stepping out of the looming shadow of elitism to tell his side of the story. 

But first, a little background.

IP programme was first introduced 14 years ago. The scheme was called the “through-train” programme for skipping the O levels so that the top ten percent of PSLE scorers can go straight to A levels or International Baccalaureate. It is called the seamless route for the academically bright. 

Then, in 2004, only 8 schools like Raffles and Hwa Chong had IP. 

But IP was like Eden’s apple offering a chance of a lifetime for parents to take an enticing bite of the fruit from the tree of knowledge separating the successful from the less so. 

Today, there are 18 schools competing to groom students for the seamless road to success and recognition in society.

Mind you, not only parents but schools and other related institutions have rushed in to take that enchanted bite.

IP started an elitist industry where we see more schools jumping into the coveted IP bandwagon together with tuition centres “specialising in helping top students make the cut-off score for IP schools.”

While the first route to an IP institution is a PSLE of above 260, the other route is via Direct School Admission (DSA). 

The catch however for DSA is that it is based on co-curricular achievements and not so much on grades. 

As such, it is quite understandable that many struggled taking this second route because we are still a fiercely meritocratic society based on the inequality of streaming and the assured progress for those who are academically gifted (or IP-ed).

Returning to Edwin’s story, he just scrapped through with 258 at St Andrew’s Junior School. But his grades opened wide doors for him. 

He said: “You feel really good...You are told from day one, you have made it, you are the elite and you have entered a school that is known to produce political and industry leaders of Singapore.” FYI, Edwin got into Hwa Chong.

Now, you know the IP programmes is a bespoke programme tailored made for future leaders. 

Edwin said: “I took on various leadership roles, and was active in softball and the guitar club. But for students, it wasn’t just about exploring other interests and building soft skills. A lot of it was also about building up our resume for top scholarships and universities abroad.”

Edwin’s experience was however not all positive. He saw that the students were obsessed with grades. He said a schoolmate tried to sabotage another team’s project work. 

And he added: “By Secondary 4, everyone is already discussing whether to study law, medicine or dentistry in uni, and Ivy League unis or Oxbridge. I remember picking Yale, despite knowing nothing about it, other than the fact that it is renowned.” 

But things did not go smoothly for Edwin. He said that at first he did well, scoring As in Sec 4. After that, in JC, due to “problems at home” and “bouts of anxiety”, his grades suffered. He was struggling with Ds and Es. 

Edwin then left JC1, enrolled into an events management diploma programme at Singapore Poly and then a music course at LaSalle Collge of the Arts. 

After that, he left for Australia to do a degree programme at the University of Melbourne where he recently graduated with top honours. 

Edwin is nevertheless grateful for the training under the IP track. He said: “Being in Hwa Chong was tough, but it taught me good skills. I write well and am able to do presentations easily, because of the training I received in school. And the hard work ethic stays with you.”

Yet, there was this tinge of ruefulness in his words when he said that his IP past still haunts him and he felt that dropping out would disadvantage him in society. 

“Employers still ask for my O levels, and when I tell them I didn’t sit the exam, they ask for my PSLE. And when I tell them I was in the IP in Hwa Chong, they will ask: What happened? You got into Hwa Chong and you dropped out. How come you failed?”

Lesson? One...and it starts with that “how come you failed?” question. 

Actually, Einstein, Bill Gates and Steve Jobs would have difficulty answering that too. They were once deemed as too slow or seen as uni. dropouts. But they are gifted in their own ways and schools were just too boring for them any way. 

My point however is about society as a whole and I return to my first question I started with in this post: -

“If you judge a society (or government) by how she treats the less fortunate, the aged and the poor, I guess you also judge her success by how she deals with failure?“

How do we then deal with failure? 

Well, it is tempting to ask this, while the government is trying their darnest to downplay (or cushion) the elitism’s side of meritocracy, does it come off as genuine (or believable) to the majority left behind who did not make the cut in their PSLE and O levels? 

And if you probe further, why is there still biting shame for (or hidden bias against) those who drop out of the IP programme? 

Sandra Davie, who wrote the article, said that she has come across several IP dropouts and many of them carry the shame. She said that “the better known their school, the deeper their shame.” 

Is there then an unrealistic (“un-admitted”) expectation that you are held in high esteem in society only if you hold an unblemished academic track record?

And, how about those who got into good schools via the DSA pathway? Will they be treated as equal? 

One RI student admitted: “My PSLE score was very average. In school, those of us who got in through DSA are looks down upon. If you are really excelling in your sport, then that’s not so bad, but if you start doing poorly in that as well, then you are really look down upon. That really affected me and my grades suffered even more.” 

So, is it still all about grades after all is said and done by our government to downplay the social prejudice not just in society and amongst employers, but even amongst our children’s classmates? 

Or is it inevitable since meritocracy, like democracy, is the worst method of sifting out the best from the rest, “except all those other methods that have been tried from time to time”?

Well, I know we are not going to pretend that meritocracy is perfect, but should we also stop pretending that our children’s grades do not count (in Singapore) and their self-esteem has nothing to do with failing or dropping out at a young age in school?

I know I may be accused of being disingenuous for setting up a statement like the one above. 

But I am not going to airbrush the reality that many less academically inclined student feel when they are often being judged not by what they can potentially become if society and parents just have more faith in them, but what they already are based on a piece of paper they sweat over to receive at an age that they can’t even process the full consequences of it.

One student confessed this: “In primary school, it was drummed into me by my parents - A was not good enough. It had to be A stars if I wanted to make it to RI. I started pushing myself to the point that I blanked out before the first PSLE paper.”

Let me end by pitching this word - authenticity. 

That is what we want in a society that has unknowingly reprioritised values in favour of the tangible (grades, awards and material possessions) while sidelining the intangible (faith, vision, understanding and compassion). 

So, how does our society deal with failure then? 

Alas, based on Edwin’s story, I am afraid our society deals with it the same way she deals with success - they are mutually exclusive. When our society look at us, she looks for the definitive tallied score. Do we have more successes than failures before we hit 21? Have we proven ourselves by heaping up the grades?

Needless to say, we will inevitably be even more valued and prized if we have an unblemished track record. You can cut the bias with a kitchen knife.

Here, I recall that Chan Chun Seng once differentiated anti-elitism and anti-excellence by saying that he “would not hold it against somebody, regardless of his background, if he does well and makes a contribution to society. But if someone has done well, not through his own effort but maybe through his connections... and doesn't reach out to people, then that is different."

I felt that what is not said is that we as a society have nothing against excellence, industry and perseverance. We wish for all that in our own children. 

However, I believe what we as a society are standing against is elitism or excellence without a soul, without authenticity. 

That is above all to be feared because as a general sentiment, nothing is scarier than to allow people who are up there to run the country, but whose hearts are kept at arm’s length from people down below.

For when you take authenticity out of philanthropy, you get hypocrisy. When you take authenticity out of excellence, you get condescension. When you take authenticity out of government, you get a message that is believable at the podium but a reality that just doesn’t match or fit at grassroots levels.

And while meritocracy has its unassailable, time-tested benefits, the obsession with grades and its demand for unbroken successes as the coveted gold standard have turned our society into one lacking not only in soul, but also authenticity.