What I have learnt as a drop-out from National University of [redacted]
With a big thank-you to my father, who generously sponsored my school-fees.
This is an attempt to bring myself some closure.
let's begin
I enjoyed accessing the university's Central Library (as contrasted to, say, the library of the University's Conservatory of Music.) Never underestimate the power of an old library. I loved wandering through the aisles of strange, fragrant books. As the saying goes: “An old library is a good place to be lost.”
Some memorable quotes I remember from visiting the books:
Boy: I fear God.
Woman: Good. That makes you decent.
“My grandfather had only two words of advice to give me: fear God.”
I have also enjoyed attending a course for freshmen, in the fundamentals of program-writing (as in software programs).
The instructor chose to give us assignments in the programming language of Scheme. This has given me the confidence to apply the so-called First Principles to any other programming language, such as Java (in the Object-oriented paradigm) or Python (in the procedural paradigm).
And, then, with other Year 2 students, I was immersed in the rabbit hole that was DVCS: distributed version control systems. It turned out that students can make a wonderful mess out of DCVS, using commands known as Git Branch, and Git Merge. If you know, you know. Frequently these students don't know how to get themselves out of that mess. There is no judgment here.
In Year 3, Semester 1, I boarded an airplane to begin a so-called Exchange Semester, at National [redacted] University. Over the ensuing four months, I had some adventures, to put it mildly, but to spare people from unnecessary emotional hurt and confusion, I will withhold information about said adventures.
I returned to Singapore, and took Leave of Absence, during Year 3, Semester 2.
In Year 4, Semester 1, I made a decision to drop out of school. Each semester cost my father $4,000 a month (even after receiving subsidies and grants from the local government), and I didn't feel that the quality of the instruction justified the price-tag. And I felt that my time could be better spent, outside of lectures and homework.
That's not to mention the mental toll that such a rigidly structured curriculum was imposing on me. For example, I found myself thinking about homework at 3 AM, which was an unwelcome intrusion into my sleeping schedule. (c.f. the book titled “Why We Sleep: The new science of sleep and dreams”, by Matthew Walker).
Some may say that, in dropping out, I have wasted my three years of effort in academic pursuits. That may be valid, because I have put in no small amount of effort in preparing for examinations, paying attention during (frankly mind-numbing) lectures, and so on.
However I draw attention to the Fallacy of Sunk Costs. 1000 wrongs do not make a right. And, as certain intelligent humans have observed: “It is no sign of health to be well-adjusted to a profoundly sick society.”
By way of analogy, if everyone is perversely intent on staying on a rapidly sinking ship, I have to be the first to launch myself off the ship, on a rickety life-raft, even if everyone calls me “crazy”.
so what is the impact on me?
I learnt that my ego is my enemy. When I clean restaurant-tables at my part-time job, my ego says, “I'm a university student, I'm too smart to be cleaning up after other people.”
So I suffer at work, and feel dissatisfied, due to my ego – which has been “puffed up” through years of undergraduate “status”.
It has taken me a long time – a decade and counting – to find joy in humble work, like sweeping the floor, and cleaning up after women's stray hairs on sofa couches. I feel grateful for my spiritual mentors for beating some common sense into me. (As the saying goes: “common sense is not common.”)
And I learnt that I do have passive-aggressive tendencies, thanks to an honest observation from a classmate. To address that, I've been seeking help for unhealed trauma from my early childhood (these days, it's called Adverse Childhood Experiences, or ACE, for short) so that I can cultivate healthier relationships with the people around me: female co-labourers younger men, co-workers and more.
How my parents behaved, need not define my future. I realise that now. Now I believe that I can do anything that I set my mind to. I didn't always think that way.
As a (frankly awful) motivational saying goes: “Let your hopes, not your hurt, define your future.”
what's next?
I want to live out a Malay-language saying: “tunggu sekejap”. It means: to linger a while.
Steve Jobs' regret: not spending time with his children. (My source is there.)
I want to love the people around me, and be loved in return.
Thank you.
Let me end with a poem:
What is this life if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.
No time to stand beneath the boughs
And stare as long as sheep or cows.
No time to see, when woods we pass,
Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass.
No time to see, in broad daylight,
Streams full of stars, like skies at night.
No time to turn at Beauty's glance,
And watch her feet, how they can dance.
No time to wait till her mouth can
Enrich that smile her eyes began.
A poor life this if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.
This poem is titled “Leisure”, by W. H. Davies.