Taming the Monster

After I completed my primary school education at Swiss Cottage Primary School in Singapore, my PSLE (Primary School Leaving Examination) results allowed me to attend secondary school at an elite school called Methodist Girls’ School (MGS) on 11 Mount Sophia, located behind Plaza Singapura mall.

MGS was my first choice because I knew it was one of the best girls’ schools in Singapore. It was consistently ranked in the top 10 schools in Singapore by the Ministry of Education and is now placed in Band 1 category, the highest achievable category.

Despite the school’s history of academic, music and sporting excellence, I had been personally impressed by several MGPS (Methodist Girls’ Primary School) students during a field trip to Singapore’s Science Centre. Elegantly poised in their sailor-like uniforms, with their neat bobs and single plaids, they managed to answer some of the most difficult questions asked by their teacher. From that moment on, I wanted to be one of them.

Aerial view of MGS on 11 Mount Sophia (biblioasia.nlb.gov.sg)

Unlike SCPS, where nearly all of the student body arrived in school or public buses, I noticed that several MGS girls were sent to school in their private cars, driven by their parents or, in some rare cases, by their chauffeurs. They spoke flawless English and were well-groomed.

Every Monday, the head prefect would check the girls’ hair, earrings (only tiny, plain studs were allowed), skirt length (a maximum of 2 centimeters above the knees) and shoes. Very rarely would any of the students violate the strict dress code. They also arrived on time for school and tardiness was almost never a factor. Everyone was expected to be in their classes, ready for lessons or lined up neatly at the assembly to listen to the principal’s address.

Our principal, Mrs. Anna Tham, the longest-serving MGS principal, was an alumna and math teacher before taking over the helm of the school. She was always elegantly dressed in a qipao while speaking to us about being the best we could be, to work hard, stay humble and keep reaching for the stars.

On my first day, I proudly wore my uniform, with my long hair in a single braid. “I am an MGS girl now,” I thought. Fortunately, I was not the only one from SCPS.  My Malaysian friend, Eileen, was also admitted into MGS. Although I was relieved to see a familiar face at my new school, I was determined to make friends and struck up a conversation with a friendly girl called Nicole in my secondary one class. She was also a transfer student from Paya Lebar Methodist Girls’ School.

Unlike Eileen, Nicole and me, the great majority of the other girls already knew one another. They entered MGS from their affiliated primary school and most had mothers and grandmothers who also went to MGS. That was my first time experiencing such a strong alumnae network. The ‘old girls’ or alumnae, are fiercely loyal to the school, pledging to send their daughters to MGS. They would gather at the annual Founders’ Day Gala, held at Shangri-la hotel and often help to raise funds and awareness for their alma mater.

During my secondary school years at MGS, I had a close-knit group of friends who called ourselves Sticky Chewy Seven. We would gather in a small circle during breaks to chitchat and have our snacks. The annual highlight would be our ‘mooncake picnics,’ where we brought slices of mooncakes from home and shared them with our friends. My favorite was the Goodwood Park hotel’s snow skin mooncakes, which came in various pastel colors filled with the most luscious lotus seed paste. Judging from the squeals of delight from my friends, I could tell that they also looked forward to the delicacies. When weekends arrived, my friends and I had some of the best times of our lives. We went shopping and watching movies or concerts.  In those days, milk shakes, French fries and burgers at Mc Donald’s were the highlight of our meals. We enjoyed the fast food as we talked about everything under the sun – from our favorite stars to the latest fashion trends.

My close group of friends from MGS who called ourselves Sticky Chewy Seven

Academically, I continued to excel in the first two years of secondary school, called the lower secondary. We had more subjects as compared to the four core subjects in primary school. These subjects, however, were welcome additions to me as I was introduced to the humanities, which I loved.  I began exploring the history of Southeast Asia and learned about Singapore and its relationship with its much bigger neighbors – Indonesia and Malaysia.  I also read about Lee Kuan Yew, the nation’s founding father and first prime minister. I was proud and delighted to learn that his wife, the brilliant lawyer Kwa Geok Choo, was an alumna of MGS! Our English literature classes were also fascinating. We read Harper Lee’s To Kill A Mockingbird and learned about themes, genres, as well as character and plot analysis.

We were also introduced to Shakespeare and I loved scribbling ‘translations’ of the old English dialogue in my textbook as our teacher, Mr. Morgan, a blond and jolly Englishman, enacted scenes from Romeo and Juliet. I often wondered if he felt odd to be one of the few male teachers in a sea of young women. I would be so tongue-tied and self-conscious if I were to teach in a boys’ school.  Nevertheless, Mr. Morgan was always so cheerful and truly passionate while he was teaching that everyone looked forward to his lessons. Other than history and English literature, I enjoyed geography tremendously - studying about the weather and climate, tectonic plates and various aspects of the human population.

Toward the end of secondary two, I made one of the biggest mistakes in my academic life. Since my grades were good enough to choose any subject combinations for the ‘O’ (Ordinary) level examinations at the end of secondary four, I faced a perplexing dilemma. Virtually all of my peers aspired to be placed in 3S1 (the ‘S’ stood for ‘Science’). As they were the most rigorous, the 3S1 subject combinations allowed students to pursue virtually any degree at university level. Only the best and brightest students could earn one of the coveted spots there, studying a minimum of two pure sciences (physics and chemistry) or the triple sciences (physics, chemistry and biology).

On the other hand, as a humanities lover, I had the option of enrolling in 3A4 (the ‘A’ stood for ‘Arts’), where I could study triple humanities (history, geography and English literature) and take just biology as one of the required science subjects. Nevertheless, it was also the least prestigious class. As much as I knew in my heart that being in 3A4 would ensure two happy years until the end of my secondary school education, I chose to be in 3S1, electing to take triple humanities, two pure sciences and…two math classes! I should have known that it was the beginning of a disaster.

As a student at 3S1, I felt privileged and motivated. All around me were students who went on to study medicine at top universities in the United Kingdom such as the University of Oxford and Imperial College London. They are now specialist doctors in private practice at Mount Elizabeth hospital. Nicole, one of my best friends from secondary one, pursued an MBA in finance at the University of Pennsylvania’s famed The Wharton School. She is now the managing director of one of the largest international private banks in Singapore.

Surrounded by highly intelligent girls in 3S1, I performed well during the first quarter of secondary three, while continuing to enjoy my extra-curricular activities such as the squash and computer clubs. However, the science and math tests became progressively more difficult and I began to score well below the median. The trauma of my early struggles with math returned to haunt me and I was seized with fear every time I had to take a test.

What made things worse was seeing my friends getting top grades in all of their subjects. I thought that if I went far and above my friends’ efforts by pushing myself harder, hiring more tutors and attempting every practice in the assessment books, I could be rewarded with better results.

When the report card was issued at the end of the academic year, I was dismayed at the disparity between my barely passing science and math subjects, compared to the stellar grades I earned for English, Malay and the humanities. I even won academic awards as the top scoring student in my entire grade for history and Malay. Regret set in and panic overcame me. A year from then, I had to sit for the grueling Cambridge GCE (General Certificate of Education) ‘O’ (Ordinary) level examinations.

If secondary three was highly stressful, secondary four was worse. The ‘O’ levels were imminent and our teachers bombarded us with more homework and tests to prepare us for, arguably, one of the most difficult secondary school qualifications in the world. At this point, I was languishing in my science and math classes. Although I memorized the periodic table of elements and formulae needed for the calculations, my mind seemed to freeze every time I had to answer the multiple-choice and short answer questions.

The pressure mounted and reached a climax when I received my first zero on a math test. Horrific memories flooded me and I knew I had no escape route. I realized that it was too late to switch subject combinations and I had to sit for the examinations I abhorred. When I saw the zero on that math test, I lost my composure, broke down in class and sobbed uncontrollably.

My math teacher, Mrs. Lim, a kind woman with a slight figure, bobbed hair and large glasses, approached me and said, “Aimee, don’t be sad. I know you can do it. Let me know if I can help you after class.” Wiping my tears away, my heart still in a million pieces, I felt the eyes of my concerned classmates on me while I replied, “I don’t know what else I should do. I tried everything but I keep failing…” Without saying another word, Mrs. Lim took my trembling hand and sat next to me while she waited for me to stop weeping.

In the final two months leading up to the dreaded ‘O’ levels, I took Mrs. Lim up on her offer. I studied under her guidance, solved numerous equations and drew so many hyperbolas that they tended to blur together before I turned off my study lamp and went to bed. When I was about to give up, her words echoed in my head, “Aimee, don’t lose hope before you begin the fight. You have to keep trying. I am here to help.” Those words comforted me and gave me hope. Mrs. Lim cared about me. She wanted to see me succeed. Like Ms. Kwek, who nominated me for the Best in Progress award back in primary four, she believed in me.

When it was time for the ‘O’ level examinations, I was ready. I had spent months preparing for them and I decided to give my best efforts, a quiet determination simmering within me. Although I was physically and mentally prepared to take on the examinations, they were still daunting and highly stressful because our scores would determine which junior college we would attend for the final two years of high school before we entered university.

The venue added to the stress, as the examinations were held in an auditorium where well-spaced tables and chairs were arranged in long rows. Teachers from other schools came to serve as invigilators. When the tests were administered, they walked quietly and monitored us, peering over at our papers from time to time to ensure no kind of cheating was involved. I still remember to this day the stillness of the room, the whirr of the ceiling fans above us and the rustle of the papers. After each test was over, I had ink-stained fingers and sore hands, especially after answering the long humanities essay questions.

After each 'O' level examination, I had ink-stained fingers and sore hands

After the ‘O’ levels, I returned to Indonesia to spend time with my family, relieved that the arduous ordeal was finally over. I went on Indonesian culinary adventures with my four siblings and cousins while my parents were at work, trying to take my mind off the results, which would be available a little more than a month after the exams were over.  I reminded myself to relax and that I already did my absolute best. 

When I returned to MGS in January to collect my results at our brand-new campus on Blackmore Drive at Bukit Timah Road, my heart was pounding and my hands were clammy. The worried faces of my cohorts indicated that they were just as nervous as me. I remember being called one by one to the front of the same auditorium where we sat for the examinations. The squeals of delight or downcast eyes spoke a thousand words.

When it was my turn, I bravely took the results slip from the teacher on duty and I could hardly believe my eyes. Despite scoring distinctions in English and the humanities, as expected, my biggest surprise was scoring an A2 (A2 was equivalent to an A while an A1 was equivalent to an A*) and B3 for my math papers! I was jubilant and ran upstairs to the teachers’ room to look for Mrs. Lim. As I entered, I found Mrs. Lim right away, a smile on her lips and her arms outstretched. With happy tears this time, I thanked Mrs. Lim profusely while she hugged me and said, “See? I knew you could do it, Aimee. Math is not a monster as long as you know how to tame it.”

*This is the second part of my math phobia series, the first being Confronting a Monster.