MEMORIES flashed across my mind as I read about the School Excellence Award which Cedar Girls' received.

I taught in two schools before I resigned from the teaching profession. In one school, the existence of the School Excellence Award stirred the management's ambition to win it.

Afraid of getting a bad performance ranking from the school's management, many teachers felt pressured into joining fitness programmes and other activities organised for the staff.

As the amount of work remained heavy for these teachers and joining the programmes ate into their time in school, they had to mark their students' assignments and prepare their lessons at home.

Ironically, these new initiatives became burdens to them.

Thus, by trying to win the School Excellence Award, the management lost sight of its purpose to encourage schools to find ways to relieve teachers of work-related stress.

Though my observations during my stint in the teaching profession may not apply to Cedar Girls', they highlight one important fact: Fitness exercises will not reduce stress if they do not come with a healthy workload.

'Time-out' does not constitute setting aside time for teachers to do an activity which is deemed compulsory by the principal.

Principals should give free time to teachers so that they can do any healthy activity they like, be it physical exercise, a chat with colleagues, or writing in a private journal.

This is 'time-out'.

MR ALFRED Tan walks briskly into the meeting room, carrying a blue booklet. It contains pull-out sheets of all the services Singapore Children's Society offers.

There are counselling sessions for troubled children, programmes to prevent them from going astray, and a home to shelter those who have no one to care for them.

There are also talks to raise awareness of sexual abuse and even a team of social workers to track down parents who refuse to send their children to school.

You name the issue, the 44-year-old society has it covered. Well, almost.

But there is one issue it is finding hard to lick, and that is the growing loneliness of children here.

Lonely and bored kids contribute 30 per cent of the 6,000 calls made each year to Tinkle Friend, the national helpline for children aged seven to 12, says Mr Tan, the society's executive director.

The helpline was launched by the society in 1984 for the growing number of latch-key children.

Unlike neighbouring societies where child prostitution and child labour are problems, the big issue for children here seems to be loneliness and parental neglect, with parents working longer hours.

'On the surface, it does not appear to be a major issue as it doesn't bother anybody else. But the trend is worth taking note of,' says Mr Tan.

Children are peeved that parents seem more interested in their homework than in how their day had been, he says, adding: 'They realise parents know their math and science results better than who their best friends are.'

If the communication gap grows, the problems will only get bigger for the family, he says, adding that each year, the society counsels over 100 children taken to court by their own parents who say they are beyond parental control. The root problem is often lack of parental discipline from young, he says.

Dealing with such issues is a far cry from the society's origins in 1952, when it helped malnourished children in the aftermath of World War II.

As Singapore modernised, different social and emotional issues emerged: difficulties in the relationship between parent and child; child abuse; and family violence.

The society has also been an advocate on behalf of children, and has offered feedback to the Government on issues from child protection to compulsory education.

One issue Mr Tan thinks should be looked at, is whether compulsory education should be extended beyond primary school, to cover pre-school education as well.

Mr Tan tells Insight that while the society has a point of view, it does not lobby for its causes. 'In Singapore's political climate, they don't like the word lobby. We do more advocacy work,' he says.

FORMER teacher S. Devaki recalls how hopeful she was when the Ministry of Education (MOE) replaced the Monolingual stream with EM3 in 1992.

She had seen how being labelled as 'mono kids' battered the self-esteem of her academically weaker primary school pupils.

'Monolingual just sounded so awful - as if they were sub-normal. EM3 seemed like a more neutral term,' she said.

But her enthusiasm was short-lived.

Although 'EM3 kids' sounded better than 'mono kids', it was still name-calling, still a label that they were the weakest of the lot.

'I taught for more than 10 years in a primary school. It was heart-wrenching to see how we wrecked the self-esteem of young kids through streaming. I could have written the script for Jack Neo?s movie, I Not Stupid,' she said.

That?s why the mother of three, whose youngest child is in Primary 2, was cautious about the changes announced yesterday.

Education Minister Tharman Shanmugaratnam, speaking at the annual workplan seminar for principals, announced that the unpopular EM3 stream will be scrapped from 2008.

Pupils will instead be banded at the end of Primary 4 according to their strengths in different subjects.

For instance, a student who is weak in English and Mother Tongue, but strong in Mathematics, will be allowed to take Mathematics at the Standard level, while studying the other two at an easier level, called the Foundation level.

Now Madam Devaki wonders whether the children will be labelled the 'foundation kids'.

She is especially concerned because her youngest child, who is mildly dyslexic, may end up being tagged with that label.

But she should be more optimistic. The changes this time are far-reaching.

The 1992 amendments moved streaming to the end of Primary 4 instead of Primary 3, but otherwise the system, introduced in 1979, was kept intact.

The Normal, Extended and Monolingual streams were replaced with EM1, EM2 and EM3.

EM1 students took Mother Tongue at the first-language level; EM2 students studied Mother Tongue as a second language; and those in EM3 learnt English as a first language and only aimed to attain oral proficiency in their mother tongue.

No surprise then that the labelling of the weaker children continued.

Legions of parents called countless times for a review of the streaming policy.

Their cause was also taken up yearly by Parliament backbenchers.

They were joined in 2002 by the high-powered Economic Review Committee, which asked for streaming to be 'eased' in schools.

But the Government stoutly defended the policy, saying it had reduced dropout rates.

Secondary school dropout rates had been cut from 17 per cent in 1979 to a mere 3 per cent currently, it argued - because of streaming.

In contrast, countries which do not have streaming saw dropout rates surge.

In the United States, for instance, 30 per cent of students fail to complete high school every year, the Government pointed out.

That is why the Government?s decision two years ago to merge the two higher streams - EM1 and EM2 - came as a pleasant surprise.

But some parents were very disappointed at the refusal to scrap EM3.

The MOE argued that it was possible to merge EM1 and EM2 because students in both streams study the same subjects.

The only difference is that the EM1 kids study Mother Tongue at a higher level.

But this is not so for EM3 pupils, who lag so far behind that they have to study all subjects at a lower level.

They take foundation-level English, and Mathematics and Mother Tongue at a basic proficiency level. They sit for a modified Primary School Leaving Examination at the end of Primary 6. They study Science at a foundation level too, but do not take an exam for it.

Mr Tharman?s argument then was that the weakest students benefit from being taught separately because teachers use a different curriculum and approach.

He sympathised with parents who complained about their children being subjected to name-calling, but told them to take heart in the fact that several schools were already mixing EM3 pupils with other students in non-academic areas, such as art, music and physical education.

The ministry encouraged more such efforts - the aim being that the classes would become so integrated that the weakest pupils would not be identifiable as a separate group.

Yesterday, Mr Tharman reported that virtually all primary schools have mixed classes now.

This has considerably reduced the sense of alienation that EM3 kids used to feel, he said.

If this is truly so, the integration and the new subject-based banding could finally mean an end to the labelling of academically weaker kids.

True, the education system is still built around the belief that children have varying levels of ability - and they need different curricula and teaching approaches to help them study at a pace they can handle.

But the new refinements are grounded in the understanding that few students are exceptional in every area, and few students are weak in every subject.

So, even if a child lags behind in primary school and ends up in the weakest class, it need not label him for life.

The system has been made fluid, so that even the weaker pupils can take the subjects they are strong in at a higher level.

Students are not held back forever - they can start slow, but catch up later.

So, Madam Devaki?s daughter may indeed lag behind her classmates and have to take some of the subjects at the foundation level.

But once she catches up with her peers, she can go as fast and far as anyone else.

WE ARE moving towards greater diversity and choice in education. Step by step, but the direction is clear for all to see. More paths, more bridges, more electives and more varied methods of learning to nurture students with different abilities and interests. It is how we help every talent flourish and how we will achieve the mountain range of excellence that Prime Minister Lee Hsien Loong has spoken about.

An important part of this shift has been the flexibility we are injecting into our system of ability-driven education.

The fundamentals of the system are sound. We recognise different abilities, set curricula that students can realistically master and help each student to proceed at a pace that he can manage. When we introduced streaming in schools over 25 years ago, it brought dropout rates down sharply. Many more students have been able to stay engaged in learning, and the vast majority now progress on to a tertiary education. Today, only 3 per cent or less of our students drop out before completing secondary school. We are not happy with 3 per cent, and Senior Parliamentary Secretary Masagos (Zulkifli) is looking into ways we can reduce it further.

But we have avoided the large attrition rates that we see in many other countries, where undifferentiated schooling leads to a large number of students being disengaged from learning.

In the US for instance, 30 per cent of students fail to complete high school. In New York City, 53 per cent of girls and 61 per cent of boys drop out without completing high school.

However, nothing that we do in ability-driven education is an article of faith. All our approaches - our different streams and differentiated teaching methods - are simply practical ways to help students grow and develop as best they can. We judge our approaches only by their effectiveness. And where we can improve them, we will do so.

Neither is ability-driven education about setting students on a fixed path for all time. It is about

responding to students' abilities at each point in time, helping them to prepare for the next step in their learning and encouraging them to aspire to go higher, at every step of the way. The stream or course you go to in school does not define you for life.

We are refining our ability-driven education, so that we keep and strengthen this open-endedness. We are introducing more flexibility in the system - more opportunities to move up at each step of the way, more fluidity between the different streams in schools. There are three good reasons why we are doing so.

First, we have to allow for the fact that some children develop late, or develop the motivation to do well later than others. Some students start off slow, but can catch up later.

We should keep the system open for them. And we must always expect surprises - expect students to develop in surprising ways and surpass early expectations.

We have made it easier for schools to promote or transfer N(A) and N(T) students who do well, to the Express or N(A) courses respectively. Every year now, about 400 N(A) students are promoted and transferred to the Express course. A similar number of N(T) students are promoted or transferred to the N(A) course. Despite catching up late, most of these students did well.

Eighty-seven per cent of the N(A) students who transferred to the Express course qualified for the polytechnics - this is in fact higher than the 83 per cent for the bottom half of our Express students. Thirty-three per cent of the N(T) students who transferred to the N(A) course qualified for the polytechnics.

One student who has been crossing bridges is Chua Kim Wee, now a JC2 student studying in Nanyang Junior College. Kim Wee was from the EM3 stream in primary school, and was posted to the Normal (Technical) stream in secondary school. He worked hard, did well and caught up while in Montfort Secondary. The school assessed him carefully and let him cross over to the N(A) stream. Kim Wee did very well in his O levels, obtaining four distinctions, and will be sitting for his A levels shortly.

We must keep allowing students to cross bridges and keep an eye out for the surprises like Kim Wee.

We have not wanted to rush the way we have implemented these flexibilities. But we can gain confidence from the results to date. I would therefore encourage secondary schools to actively exercise the discretion that they have to identify students who can cross bridges between the streams and help them do so.

The second reason why we are evolving towards a more flexible system is to cater to students with uneven strengths and abilities. Few students are exceptional in every area and few students are weak in every subject. Most have some strengths and some weaknesses in their learning, and some areas of study that excite them more than others. We therefore need an approach that encourages every child to find his strengths, regardless of where he stands overall, and which provides him the opportunity to take his interests seriously.

We have moved progressively towards recognising students with uneven abilities. We have allowed N(A) students to offer up to two O- level subjects at Secondary 4, in the areas that they show greatest promise. And they have done well. N(T) students too have, from this year, been allowed to take up to two subjects at the N(A) level.

To help students discover their interests and strengths in practice-oriented subjects, we have also introduced Elective Modules and Advanced Elective Modules in schools. Some schools will be going further in time to come, to offer Applied Graded Subjects that are the full equivalent of an O-level subject.

We are moving in the same direction in primary schools - helping students to find distinct strengths and take them at a higher level. We started by liberalising the rules for Higher Mother Tongue. We will now be moving to a system of subject-based banding for the weaker students, which will replace the EM3 stream. I will say more about this later.

We are also recognising strengths outside of academic performance. That is why we have widened the scope for discretionary admissions into secondary schools and post-secondary educational institutes - so that students can be admitted not just on their performance in examinations, but on their talents in other areas. and be encouraged to further develop those talents.

Although some schools can now admit up to 50 per cent of their stdudents through discretionary selection, the overall numbers are still low. About 3 per cent of all students are now admitted to secondary schools and junior colleges through the Direct Schools Admission (DSA) exercise. We will gradually expand this, in small steps. MOE will also take a more flexible approach in recognising more schools with strong programmes as Niche Programme Schools, so as to encourage them to develop areas of excellence.

The third reason for introducing greater fluidity in our system of ability-driven education - and this is not any less important - is to encourage greater interaction among our students.

We already place students from different streams in the same schools. It gives students with different abilities the opportunities to interact with each other, work with each other and build up friendships. That is a strength of the Singapore system.

But there is more that we can do. We must do more through our CCAs and informal school programmes, to encourage every student to mix with a wider group, people different from him.

We have to go beyond the occasional activities, to the regular. We will also keep exploring what more we can do to allow for integration of students within the formal curriculum time.

This is why we will be making further refinements to our Gifted Education Programme. We must recognise the abilities of our intellectually gifted children and give them a learning environment that allows them to thrive. But we must also find ways to give them the rounded education that comes from regular opportunities to interact with the rest of their peers, and which will fit them out for life.

We should not shrink from providing the best chance for every talent to surface and grow.

We should be willing to differentiate our teaching and curriculum where useful, and not ask every student to conform to the average. We should never fall into a culture of discouraging students from being exceptional - or 'cutting tall poppies down to size', as the Australians put it. We must never feel that we are doing wrong by giving budding talents the best chance of shooting up. We need all the tall poppies we can get, whether in the sports and arts, or in maths and literature.

But we also know that the tallest poppies often grow in the open. Many leaders in business and the professions, or in government and community, will tell of how they had the benefit when they were young of growing up with friends of quite different abilities and backgrounds.

Like MM, for example, who has repeatedly said that it did him good to have started his school career in a modest rural school, as Telok Kurau Primary was then.

We should never underestimate the benefits of interacting, day in and day out, with people who may be different from you, but whom you live with, play with, work on projects with and who will share the same world as you.

We should therefore keep a careful balance in education - between providing the differentiated teaching that we need to nurture different abilities and talents, and allowing sufficient opportunity for interaction and for the habit of looking after each other to be formed. And we should encourage all our students, including those with academic difficulties, to find their strengths, aspire to go further and to learn something they did not previously think they could.

The fluidity that we are injecting into our ability-driven system is not just a matter of educational philosophy. It mirrors the way the workplace is moving in the innovation-driven industries that we must insert ourselves in. The organisational structures that were well suited to the old economy, with strict hierarchies and distinctions between employees with different skills, are being replaced by more flexible, flatter and more agile organisations.

Up and down the line, every worker has to deal with some complexity, learn to multitask and be willing to learn new skills quickly. That is how the innovation economy works. Stay agile and work in teams, or you are out of the game.

I will illustrate this with a few examples.

At Shell, chemical process technicians must now multitask and think on their feet. Their technicians are expected to go beyond handling just the process controls, to also handle equipment maintenance and troubleshooting. They must also have a good understanding of management issues like how to maximise plant output. And Shell also trains its technicians to be effective communicators and active members of their work teams.

Next example, Lucasfilm Animation Singapore. Lucasfilm looks for creative individuals with a hefty dose of raw talent. But they also need to be highly versatile, to switch between different types of creative tasks - from digital modelling to texturing and painting, and to rendering shots and sequences. Lucasfilm looks for artists with the enthusiasm to solve problems - people who not only try to figure out the solution to a problem but also improve the process while they are at it.

My third example may strike some as 'old economy'. At Singapore Customs, officers are constantly learning new skills and re-engineering the scope of work. The environment they work in is radically different from before. Not long ago, the job of a Customs officer was to prevent the entry of undesirable goods into the country. So Customs officers were trained in physical inspection and examination of cargoes.

However, Singapore Customs is now the key regulatory agency for trade. Officers who were previously schooled in physical cargo inspection have picked up new skills in trade documentation, so that they can approve trade permits, audit companies and investigate trade-related offences. More recently, Customs officers have again had to pick up new skills, to audit companies on their security policies and the measures they are putting into place to ensure that their supply chains are well protected against potential disruptions.

This is why diversity and flexibility has become the leitmotif of the education system. It is not a passing theme. The changes that we are making in education, step by step, are the way we are preparing young Singaporeans for the innovation-driven workplace. It is how we will make our living in the world.

We have to keep the system fluid, and avoid pigeonholing students. We must give them the responsibility to shape their own education - to find their own strengths, to ask themselves where their interests lie and to make their own choices in a more flexible system. And we should keep the geometry of an ability-driven education system open, keep refining it with experience and never fix things for all time.

I CAME to America from my native China more than 24 years ago. I had US$20 in my pocket and spoke little English. I came to stay. I came for love. I was 17.

I was 14 when I first met my future wife, Jean, at a math competition. It was love at first sight. It was not easy winning her heart. But she was all I could think about, all the time. I figured that if I could spend more time with her, something would happen. She was in the grade ahead of me, so I needed a plan.

Over the summer holidays, I immersed myself in the course work for the next level and dreamed of jumping to her grade. I spoke to the dean about skipping a grade. He was intrigued, so he arranged for a series of tests and assembled a panel of teachers to grill me.

I emerged with top scores in all subjects except English. So I promised the dean that I would work extra hard to improve my English with the help of the class deputy. He approved, unaware of the brilliance of the plan he was a co-conspirator to. The English class deputy was the girl of my dreams.

I had learnt a lesson: I could be the master of my own life journey if my dreams were powered by love and sustained through confidence, hard work and the willingness to take risks.

Skipping grades was a rare occurrence in China then. It was 1977, Deng Xiaoping was back in power and education was in vogue, so I became an accidental celebrity. On my first day in my new grade, a blackboard at the school entrance proclaimed in huge characters 'Learn from Tang Wei', which was my Chinese name.

That did not impress Jean though. She did not seem interested in me.

A few weeks later, our teacher was conducting a demonstration for other teachers throughout the city that included a challenging question-and-answer session with gifted students. When she turned to me, I did not utter a word; I was silent as stone. She was dumbfounded, maybe even annoyed.

The Cultural Revolution was still not too far in the past, which may be why I was forced to write a self-critical essay denouncing my behaviour. I refused. Our teacher was livid. She told me that if I did not write the essay, I could stay in her office forever.

Jean came into the office to drop off some papers. Everyone had heard about my meltdown.

She saw me sulking and asked if I was still coming for my lesson with her that afternoon.

Bingo! I whipped off the essay to win back my freedom.

When we met later, she was curious about my behaviour earlier. This was my opening. I expressed my true feelings about her. The rest is history. Then the unthinkable happened. Her whole family was moving, not to another city but to another world. America! I decided I would follow her. I had no doubt that we would be together and that nothing would stand in my way. I was 17.

One night I scanned the Yellow Pages and found the listing for the US consul-general's office. An 'emergency' number was listed. This was certainly an emergency, so I dialled it.

It connected me directly to the consul-general's residence, and he himself answered. Luckily, he spoke fluent Mandarin and seemed delighted to talk to me. Americans back then had minimal contact with Chinese people.

I told him my emergency was that my girlfriend had moved to America and that I had to move there to be with her. He spent the next three hours explaining what I needed to do to make it happen.

It took nine months of intensive work to get all the forms completed properly, coordinating information between me in China and my girlfriend in the US, who was sponsoring me for a student visa. There was much correspondence with an array of bureaucracies, and about 200 love letters that I penned to her during this period. When all the paperwork was compiled, I contacted the consul-general, my first American friend, with the good news. He was delighted but suggested I sit tight for a week as he would be travelling.

I did not have a great reserve of patience back then, so I showed up at the consulate before his return. All I needed now was a visa. I was going to America!

The visa counsellor asked me two questions.

'Why do you want to go to America?'

'My girlfriend is there,' I said. No Jeffersonian flourishes about wanting to live in a democracy for me.

'Do you plan to return to China?'

'That depends,' I responded.

She quickly jotted down a few letters on my application, stamped my Chinese passport '214B' and showed me the door. '214B', I quickly found out, meant that I had 'immigration tendencies' - a high probability that I would stay in the US beyond my allotted time. I would likely never be admitted to America with that stamp on my passport.

I was devastated. I returned to my new American friend. He had a new visa counsellor see me. That was all it took. My life changed, and I will always be grateful to this man.

Jean eventually became an American citizen, and I was able to stay in the US after we married. I later became a citizen too.

Love empowers people to do wonderful things. As a nation of immigrants, we are an amalgamation of love stories from around the world. Not just the love between a man and a woman. It can be love of success, of democracy or anything imaginable.

Every immigrant has his or her own special love story. This is my story of coming to America for love.

Love is a powerful motivator. But you must have faith in yourself. You must work towards your goal ceaselessly. You must take risks. You must dial the consul-general's number and tell him about your emergency. You must engage the dean directly. You must tell that girl you love her.

 

Donald Tang is a vice-chairman of Bear, Stearns & Co. Inc. This commentary appeared in the Los Angeles Times.

Love empowers people to do wonderful things. As a nation of immigrants, we are an amalgamation of love stories from around the world. Not just the love between a man and a woman. It can be love of success, of democracy or anything imaginable. Every immigrant has his or her own special love story. This is my story of coming to America for love.

This letter is in reply to another letter.

1. We thank Li Shu Ying for her feedback on the number of subjects that primary school teachers teach.
2. Most of the non-mother tongue teachers posted to primary schools are trained to teach multiple subjects at the primary level. As such, it is not uncommon for primary school teachers to teach their students more than two subjects. Schools decide how best to deploy their teachers based on various considerations. In primary schools, one important consideration is that teachers must be able to look after the students more holistically, especially in the lower primary classes. It is important for young children to be able to relate well to at least one teacher in the school. In primary schools, this is usually the form teacher.  Deploying form teachers to teach his or her class two subjects or more will strengthen the interaction and rapport between the teacher and students.
3. Although primary school teachers may teach multiple subjects, they do not have heavier workloads than those who specialise, as effort is taken to ensure that work is evenly balanced within a school.  The Ministry of Education will continue to work with schools towards a good balance, given the unique context of each school. We are also constantly reviewing teachers' workload.
4. All subjects offered in the primary school curriculum are important. They facilitate the total development of our students. Teachers are expected to give due emphasis to the subjects they are deployed to teach. They can use their professional judgement to make adjustments in delivering the curriculum and do so judiciously.

Wong Siew Hoong
Director, Schools Division
Ministry of Education

Lu Cheng Yang
Director, Personnel Division
Ministry of Education

After the June school holidays, my granddaughter started on her third school term. When she returned home from school, she announced to us: “From now on, our form teacher will be teaching us all the subjects, such as EL, Maths, Science, PE and Art”. CL was the only subject to be taught by another teacher, because the form teacher is Malay.

As my granddaughter is attending an established mission primary school which is an all-girls school, I thought that the above-mentioned approach was a unique one adopted by the school. I thus asked a young schoolboy from an all-boys school and discovered a similar case in his class. This showed that it was not an isolated case but a common phenomenon in primary schools.

After making observations and thinking over the matter for quite some time, I feel that it is inappropriate for form teachers to teach many subjects. The reasons are as follows:

1. (Form) teachers have greater ‘authority’ to arrange lessons (within school curriculum time) as and when they like. For example, EL lesson is arranged for the first period and Science lesson for the second period. Previously, the Science teacher would come punctually for the Science lesson, but now a form teacher who has not finished teaching the EL lesson during the EL period may use the Science period to continue teaching EL. If the teacher keeps on doing this, students will have little learning opportunity for other subjects.

2. Teachers will need a lot of energy to teach many subjects. Their teaching will be adversely affected as a result. Previously, teachers taught two subjects, but now (form) teachers teach four to five subjects, and they have to do a lot of marking, given more than 40 exercises for each subject. As a result, they are saddled with a heavy workload.

3. Teachers are stressed due to fatigue and heavy responsibilities. As a result, they have frequent mood swings, which can affect the teacher-student relations. Sometimes, my granddaughter’s teacher spends half a period’s time reprimanding her students. What makes matters worse is that she would continue teaching the class for the next period. Under this situation, it is impossible for the teacher to have time for herself to calm down.

4. Whenever a (form) teacher takes medical or vacation leave, all lessons taught by him/her will practically have to stop. This happened to my granddaughter’s class one day when their form teacher fell ill. The teacher, who has a strong sense of responsibility, came back to work after 1-2 days’ sick leave even though she still looked weak.

Speaking from a professional angle, I feel that schools should arrange for teachers to teach their subjects of specialisation. Only then will teachers and students thoroughly enjoy teaching and learning and interact better with each other. As overloading teachers is bad for both teachers and students, I am of the view that raising teachers’ pay alone cannot solve the problem. I hope MOE would look into this issue.