Guys, P1 Registration Is Not The Be-All And End-All

The month of July 2024 had been marked out on my Google calendar ever since the news earlier this year that Primary 1 registration would begin on 2 July.

I marked it on the calendar for a practical reason: so I wouldn’t forget to register my daughter – my third child – when the time came.

I thought, I’m doing Primary 1 registration for the third time – this is nothing new, right?

As the days went on, I started to feel increasingly uneasy and anxious. More and more thoughts started brewing in my head.

Wow, this is it, we’ve come to this point, again.

Have I done enough to help her prepare for Primary 1?

I hope she has the best time ever…

Where did all the time go?

Besides wallowing in nostalgia, I’m here to share some other perspectives about the Primary 1 registration and the journey that is to come. 

Things I wish I knew when I was a brand new mum of a six–year-old, full of optimistic hope, jittery anxiety, and determination to help my child have the best start to his primary school life. 

Things I’ll remember this time round, and when I eventually have to register my youngest two children in two and five years’ time.

1. Your child’s experience is ultimately what you help them make of it

I’ll go first: I was hesitant to enrol my son into my husband’s alma mater. Ever since our son was born, he absolutely wanted our son to have the same experience as he did, in a school he loved. And the best part was that based on historical data, no balloting was needed at Phase 2A – the phase for ex-students of the school.

I, however, had a variety of reasons NOT to register our son there, all of which felt valid: it was quite far from our place, I didn’t like the secondary school affiliation, and there were better options around.

Before D-day, I frequently half-joked with my husband about the possibility of registering our son in other schools I’d shortlisted, some of which required balloting.

I didn’t go through with registering our son elsewhere in the end. How could I, when his dad felt so strongly about sending our son to his alma mater?

However, I still started our son’s Primary 1 year with great trepidation and worry. Did I make a mistake? Would our son have loved it more elsewhere? Would I regret this in six years’ time?

Well, five years on, the answer to the first two questions are pretty firm “no”s, but I’ve only come to learn it when I became convinced that my attitude would make a huge difference in his own experience. (Still unsure about the last question, will update in due time.)

His school is a great place for sporty kids. While my son isn’t the most athletic kid around, he relishes in all the opportunities he has to play sports of all sorts – whether it is at his CCA, annual inter-class games, inter-school games, and even during recess. 

I am not a sporty person – I couldn't catch a flying ball with my eyes wide open. But I’ve thrown myself 100% into supporting my son’s love for sports by sending him to and picking him up from games and training sessions, and actively participating in his excited blow-by-blow accounts of the matches he’d played in. When he wants to register for optional games or tournaments that fall outside of school time, I always say yes enthusiastically.

And he has loved every minute of his time in the school so far.

2. Nothing is as permanent as you think it is

MOE might frown on me for saying this, but as a mum who has sent two kids to primary school so far, I’ve seen how many things are possible.

Take, for example, the several resourceful (and lucky) parents who manage to eventually get their kids to the schools of their choice even when the odds are stacked against them. The most well-known way of doing this is to rent a place within 1km of the school of choice, when balloting is required.

Some others register their child at schools with less competition in the earlier phases, before waitlisting and transferring their child to the preferred school when a place opens up. This sometimes happens even after Phase 2C Supplementary, when all the dust has settled.

Places open up when families leave the country, or if parents simply change their minds. It happens.

A handful of children change schools after the Gifted Education Program (GEP) screening exercise in Primary 3, whether they make it to the GEP or not. Some parents just take the opportunity to switch schools for their children at this point. I don’t have statistics, but I’ve personally changed schools and have seen my son’s ex-classmates changing schools at this point, so I know it happens. 

For most of the children who stay in their school, their class will be shuffled every two or three years. Teachers will change, classmates will change. Some schools do subject-based banding as early as Primary 2, which means that your child will be allocated to different classes for different subjects.

All that to say: the P1 Registration Exercise is not the end of the road, even if you can’t get your child into your preferred school.

Lots of things can and will change along the way, so just go into the registration with certainty that your choice is not completely irreversible, and go with the flow.

Take it from me: My own mum did the waitlist-and-switch-schools thing for me, so I transferred schools at Primary 4 – which is its own story for another time.

3. Time will absolutely fly from here

Perhaps the most important thing to remember when registering your child for Primary 1 is that the next six years will absolutely fly by.

I started out having really high hopes for the years ahead of me when I enrolled my firstborn in Primary 1 five years ago. 

I told myself that I’d guide him through his first exams with a steady and encouraging presence, and would avoid stressing him out. 

We’d learn new things each school holiday – there were so many school holidays to savour, I thought; four per year, 24 in total. 

I’d volunteer in his school as a Parent Volunteer and be fully present and involved in school life. I’d be the plugged-in and cool mum his friends would all know.

Well, here’s an honest status report: I’m still trying to be steady and encouraging while helping him prep for his exams, five years in. And yes, the stress has definitely set in. 

I’m still trying to learn basic Korean with him during the school holidays so that we can attempt to watch our favourite K-drama Hospital Playlist without subtitles. We were supposed to do this two years ago. 

I’m still promising him I’ll make it for the next event where I would volunteer, and I’m still apologising for missing the past five years of events due to work or caring for a new baby.

All the “next year”s and “next time”s really added up quickly. I’m still reeling at the time that has passed.

For one thing, I’m mind-blown by the fact that we’re now nearer the PSLE milestone than the P1 registration milestone for my eldest son.

My second son is almost halfway through his primary school journey. (I swore I’d do better with him but nothing much has changed.)

And my daughter, my vivacious third child who I still vividly remember cradling in my arms as though it was just yesterday, has come to this milestone all too soon. The girl who skips to class in her preschool and picks flowers from the ground for me, who used to follow me on the multiple drives to and from home to ferry her siblings and dad around while singing Frozen songs at top volume in the car – is going to Primary 1 already.

For me, the P1 registration feels like the beginning of the end of these wonderfully carefree, unequivocally joyful years of preschool life. Never again will she be so easily forgiven and so free to enjoy herself.

I truly wish it’d taken longer for us to get to this point, but here we are today.

So indeed, time will fly. While I’m sad, I also count myself extremely fortunate to be able to say this today: while I miss all the years that have gone and wish they’d slowed down, I really look forward to seeing all that’s in store for my daughter.

Will she throw herself into all that school life has to offer – the joy of new experiences, the satisfaction of hard-won achievements, the heartbreak of failed friendships, and the stresses of studying for exams? 

Only way is forward, and onward.

Kelly Ang (@kelthebelle) is a freelance writer and a mum of five, who spends an equal amount of time each day writing, driving her kids around, nagging at them (sadly) and planning her next family adventure. She’s still learning new things about being the mum her kids need, 11 years into this motherhood gig.