Was I really inferior to straight-A students?
By Ng Tze Yong
HE has walked the same cobblestones as JRR Tolkien, Margaret
Thatcher, Steve Forbes and Bill Clinton.
Mr Lim Wah Guan, 28, belongs to a rare breed of Singaporeans to
have studied at two of the world's most prestigious universities -
Oxford and Princeton.
Last year, Mr Lim, a happy-go-lucky chap with a hoot of a laugh,
completed his master's degree at Oxford in the UK. He is now a PhD
student at Princeton in the US.
However, he did not take the usual Singaporean route to the
hallowed hallways of these premier institutions.
He does not hold a prestigious scholarship. He is not a 'GEPer'
(someone from the Gifted Education Programme). He does not even,
well, come from a top junior college.
Mr Lim is, in his own words, an 'NUS reject'.
He had to retake his A-level examination, after getting C, E and O
grades for Mathematics C, Higher Chinese and History respectively.
The second time round, he got B, D and D.
Four times, he applied for a spot at the arts faculty at the
National University of Singapore (NUS) - and failed
Somewhere inside him was a hidden talent, one that was enough for
the pinnacle of academia. But for a long while, that talent was
undiscovered, not nurtured, and in danger of being lost
forever.
Recently, Education Minister Ng Eng Hen said that it was time for
Singapore's education system to evolve, to recognise students who
learn in different ways.
Shortly afterwards, The New Paper columnist Reggie J raised the
question of identifying the 'Churchills' in our midst - students
who do not do well at their O and A levels, but who excel
subsequently.
Mr Lim seems to be a 'Churchill'.
Initially, he did well in school, scoring 252 for his Primary
School Leaving Examination, and 12 points for his O-level exam. But
those were mostly for maths and science subjects.
It was in junior college, when Mr Lim pursued his interest in the
humanities, specifically theatre, history and Chinese literature,
that his grades started to slide.
At National Junior College, he was the only one in his cohort with
a combination of Mathematics C, Higher Chinese and History, and
spent his years there like a nomad, moving from class to class for
the lessons.
His Chinese teacher, Mr Ng Thian Lye, said: 'He knew what his
interests were at a young age. Not many students can say the same.
Most students just followed the science stream without much
thinking.'
Somehow, Mr Lim's passion did not translate into aces. After his
first attempt at the A-level exam, his relatives encouraged him to
switch to the science stream because they thought 'it was easier to
score well in it'.
Mr Lim struggled with this dilemma but deep down, he believed his
goal - a spot at the arts faculty at NUS - was attainable.
'The arts faculty was a
place people criticised as a 'dumping ground'. It didn't matter to
me, but I thought I would at least be able to make it to such a
place,' he said.
Harsh reality
His idealism met with harsh reality when, a year later, Mr Lim's
improved grades still proved insufficient.
He said: 'Looking back, it was ironic that I got the best grade
both times for mathematics, the subject I had the least interest
in. But I think it was because it was the subject which lent itself
best to exams.'
Mr Lim applied to NUS four times, the final time with an appeal
letter from his Member of Parliament.
'I was still trying to find my way back into the system,' he said.
'In Singapore, if you're not in the system, you aren't anything at
all.'
He could not help but look at his peers.
One of them, he remembered, was a straight-A student who had never
heard of the Quran.
'I could not understand why this was happening to me,' he said. 'I
asked myself, was I really inferior to them?'
Mr Lim's mother, Madam Lily Soon, 57, said: 'He doesn't learn well
in a classroom and we were beginning to think that the Singapore
system isn't best suited for him.'
Still, when Mr Lim eventually decided to apply for the University
of New South Wales (UNSW) in Australia, his decision broke his
mother's heart. It was a tough decision then but today, Mr Lim
jokingly describes his time at UNSW as when 'I turned into
Cinderella'.
Four years after his rejection from NUS, Mr Lim graduated from UNSW
near the top of his cohort with a first class honours in Chinese
and Theatre Studies.
In a referral letter, his supervisor, Dr Jon Kowallis, wrote that
Mr Lim 'is truly a unique student of the calibre that one comes
across once every 10 or 15 years'.
Another, written by his
Dean of Residents, Dr James Pietsch, said: '...it is not on the
basis of his grades that I wish to recommend him for a postgraduate
program - there are many residents here who can boast high
grades.
'However, Wah Guan stands apart in terms of his attitude to his
study. Wah Guan has an intellectual inquisitiveness... (he is) not
driven by grades or competition, but by a genuine desire to
learn.'
Still, his glowing report card was muted by personal pain. In 2003,
his parents' business was hard-hit by the economic recession and a
guilt-ridden Mr Lim forced himself to accelerate his study course
to save money.
During his time abroad, he also missed the funerals of his
grandmother and primary school teacher to whom he was very
close.
There continued to be times when he saw himself as an 'NUS reject'.
'It was a huge mental block I needed to overcome,' he said.
At Oxford, Mr Lim completed a master's in Chinese Studies, focusing
on the work of Gao Xingjian, the first Chinese recipient of the
Nobel Prize in Literature, and made it into the East Asian Studies
PhD programme at Princeton University a year later.
His academic adviser, Professor Perry Link, praised Mr Lim as
'better than the average among graduate students at Princeton -
which is an extremely elite group.'
Usually eloquent, Mr Lim was stumped when asked just how exactly he
made good.
'I just don't think a three-hour exam is the best way to test any
student's ability' was what he finally said.
Does he plan to return to Singapore? Will he turn his back on a
system that rejected him?
It is another question that vexes him. He misses home terribly, but
it is evident he has not gotten over the disappointment. He will
only say for now - maybe.
