The six year marathon - Surviving the Integrated Programme, Junior College and the GCE A-Levels

(Photo by The Lucky Neko on Unsplash)

It's been a wild three weeks. I've been gone for a little bit because I honestly did not know if I had the guts or the right to come back here and talk about university.

The whole lot of us were bunched up balls of anxiety in the days before the 19th of February. Let's face it, I was terrified. A combination of numbers and letters would determine my next four years or even further. I thought I had prepared myself for whatever permutation that could come out of Friday... you know, "thought". By Thursday night I was texting every last one of my teachers with angst-ridden messages and practically pacing around the house like an agitated animal. I may or may not have forced myself to sleep at 12AM for once... I'm usually a night owl but I was just completely done with the mental torture of staying conscious.

Next day rolled around. I wasn't even hiding my nervousness anymore. I backed out of having lunch with my friends (sorry guys) partially because my braces hurt but also because being physically there scares me. 1.45PM and I herded my buds up for our hour of judgement.

I knew the stakes. I've been in the Integrated Programme for six years. If I failed this, I would have to beg a Polytechnic for a place through DAE. Yeah, I'm not even eligible for the much easier process of JAE... hardly an ideal prospect. I was keeping my fingers crossed for anything above 70. 70 will get me to NTU CoHASS, 77.5 might scrape me a place in CHS assuming that the 2.5 first choice bonus points help me. And if I don't make the cut? Then god help me, I cannot retake A Levels. I don't understand free trade or any of the topics they took off last year.

Waiting for the pep talks to finish were agonizing. Don't get me wrong, I love the teachers and I don't hate anyone but I think half the cohort can vouch for me when I say that it feels like you're about to throw up. Oh, and then they said that the cohort median was 85 rank points. I laughed like a drunk asshole. For the last two years I had remained solidly in the second quintile, basically the 20th to 40th percentile of the school. I was more or less resigned to getting something under 80 and then maybe pray that I could get into Theatre Studies by aptitude based admissions.

By the way, I'm not complaining, but having to sing the College Anthem and then take a class photograph right before the moment of judgement... I was literally close to tears and you want me to sing?! The college WhatsApp sticker comes to mind. If you know, you know.

The next 30 minutes felt like an eternity. The first person by register number was called. For privacy I'm leaving out all names except mine. Now, the first person was a very close friend and we all knew that she had studied very hard. So when the teachers showed her the rank points she had gotten and we saw her burst into tears*, our hearts collectively sank.

The second person was also a close friend, and she was understandably nervous and refused to look at her results at first. It was only when the teachers told her that she did okay, loud enough for those of us at the back to hear, did she look. So... hope?

I was index number 5 so I literally did not have the emotional capacity to observe the next two people. I stepped forward by the time the 4th person was leaving her seat. I stood there, quietened my mind, shut my eyes and just let myself breathe. It wasn't a grounding exercise, but I did that so I could stay calm. Thereafter I let my instincts take over and as I was called, I was running on autopilot. I kept my head blank, I liked it that way.

I looked to my two teachers who have guided me so much over the last two years, searching their faces for hints of what's next. Turns out I didn't have to wait too long at all. They just showed me the number on the paper.

It took a good few seconds for me to comprehend what "85" meant. I wasn't second guessing myself, but at the back of my mind a thousand emotions were spinning in their own blizzard. I didn't even know I was stumbling away in shock and awe until my teachers reminded me that I had to sign the document. I remember apologizing for my shaky handwriting, then again, my hands were positively trembling. When I was finally done, my eyes were locked on my best friend.

Safely at the back of the room, I finally let myself crumble beside her. I did it, actually freaking did it. I then remembered I promised my parents I would tell them what I got immediately, so I grabbed my phone, asked my friend if it was alright if I left her for a while, then called my mother.

My head was just reeling for the rest of the day. I had friends who qualified for full ride scholarships, friends who were retaining as school candidates, friends who were at a loss about where to go next, friends who narrowly missed the cut for their dream course. 

It was much later that I finally felt the pinch of curiosity to look at my grades. A A B / B A and a B for PW for a total of 85. I smirked realizing that my HCL B3 would have pulled my UAS down.

Miraculously, I got an A for H2 Economics, the subject which I feared the most. I had no idea what magic possessed me last November but I remember writing some big brain evaluation that I have no idea how to replicate today. Maybe desperation truly works wonders. Or maybe what my Economics teacher said was true: Sometimes we don't get it until it suddenly all falls into place at the eleventh hour.

I concluded my six-year journey with the SNGS-EJC Joint Integrated Programme on a decent note, and I'm grateful for that. I'm moving ahead with Theatre Studies and I'm truly glad that unless the sun rises from the western sky and only 90 rank pointers apply for CHS, I won't have to worry about university admissions. At the time of writing I'm filling in my application for the NUS-USP which is a 2-year residential scholars programme sans a scholarship. I'll be back with more details on that once I have them.

Anyway, it's been a thrilling three weeks. Emotional, bittersweet, wild. The sun rises again each morning. To those who did well, I'm proud of you. To the ones who have been thrown into a difficult position, I'm always here for you. We're in this journey together.

UPDATE 23/04/2021: On the 1st of April (yea what a date) I got an email in my spam folder that I've been selected for an interview for USP. Finished the interview on the 5th of April, so now I'm just hoping for it. Fingers crossed.

*By the way, she did fine.