Commentary: I live in New York, but here's why I enrolled my son in a Singapore kindergarten for the summer
In the summer of 2022, when schools in the US were closed and most kids attended summer programmes with fun activities like sports, robotics or arts and crafts, I boarded the longest flight in the world from New York to Singapore with my almost five-year-old son Aidan to enrol him in a local kindergarten for a month.
It was a decision birthed out of both a challenging childcare situation and a persistent longing for home that had intensified when the borders were closed during Covid.
Even the principal of the kindergarten was confused: “Shouldn’t Aidan be enjoying his summer in America instead of coming all the way to Singapore for… school?”
I had to laugh. I told her that it was my version of a summer camp, a true cultural immersion for my biracial son, whose dad is a born-and-bred Italian New Yorker and mum, a Chinese Singaporean transplant who has lived all over the world and now calls New York City (NYC) home.
Aidan had already been to Singapore twice to visit my family and friends. To him, it is a real-life Disneyland, where the streets are exceedingly safe and spotlessly clean and where he is treated like a little prince everywhere he goes and feasts at every meal.
And because we have sent him to various Mandarin immersion schools in NYC since he was two, he is also fully bilingual and feels completely at ease in Singapore.
GETTING INTO THE GROOVE
On his first day of kindergarten, dressed in school uniform and brand new white shoes that we had just bought the day before, my little New Yorker immediately looked more Singaporean.
When we got to the school gate, he held my hands tightly but walked confidently up to join a line of kids getting their temperatures taken.
Aidan was unfazed by the fact that he did not know any of the teachers or students – but I, on the other hand, was a nervous wreck, wondering if I had made the right decision to throw him into the proverbial deep end.
Would he be able to follow along what was happening in class? Would he be othered in school as the ang moh kid? Would he know to speak up for himself if the situation called for it?
Despite my reservations, I remained all smiles and assured him that he was going to have the best day ever before sending him off with a barrage of hugs and kisses.
When I picked him up in the early afternoon, he recounted his first day with an abundance of excitement, even though he barely remembered anyone’s names.
At drop-off the next morning, there were kids who greeted him eagerly and invited him to play catch before morning assembly.
By the end of that day, much to my amusement, he began to pepper his sentences with lahs and lehs as we rode the bus back to my sister’s apartment. It took him no time to learn Singlish intonation and he began to effortlessly code-switch when speaking to Singaporeans.
Aidan’s time at the kindergarten turned out to be an overwhelmingly positive experience for him, and while the schedule and rules at school were different from what he was used to, he simply adapted. The curriculum in Singapore is far more robust and rigorous than in America, and he could not believe his luck when they got to learn Math through playing Minecraft in class!
He also got to experience Racial Harmony Day (a concept that unfortunately does not exist in America, a country rife with racial tensions) by learning and celebrating the different races in Singapore.
NOT HALF, BUT BOTH
On Aidan’s last day, every single kid in his class made him cards with lovely messages like “I will always remember you” and “You are so nice”.
Despite my initial reservations, sending him to “summer camp” in Singapore turned out to be the best decision yet.
Just before our return to New York, Aidan made an astute observation: “When I am in Singapore, I miss New York, and when I am in New York, I miss Singapore.”
It felt like he took those very words straight out of my mouth: Here we were, mother and son, bonded by the same intense love and sense of belonging to both places at once.
As the mother of a mixed-race kid, I want Aidan to grow up knowing that he is full of both his identities. He is not half-American or half-Singaporean; he is both American and Singaporean.
I hope that he never feels compelled to diminish any aspect of his identity to conform to societal expectations, and that he will grow up to appreciate the diverse perspectives, traditions and values that he is inheriting, recognising them as gifts that have shaped his character and worldview.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Tricia Savino (née Tan) is the assistant director of communications at New York University’s Gallatin School of Individualized Study. Born and raised in Singapore, she now lives in New York City with her husband Andrew and their six-year-old son Aidan. This piece first appeared in The Birthday Book: Unmasking, a collection of 58 essays on the new individual and collective possibilities for Singapore as we emerge from the throes of Covid-19.
