'Don't care about grades as long as she's happy': Is a stress-free education only for the privileged?
When Francesca enrolled her six-year-old daughter Eve into the Singapore American School (SAS), she knew the decision would strain the family's finances.
But to her, Eve's "little rebel" personality simply did not fit into the stricter structure of the local preschool she had tried over the summer.
It "wasn't a good fit" as staff there "were very strict with the kids", the 37-year-old TikToker and stay-at-home mother told Stomp.
International schooling, however, comes at a steep cost. According to publicly available school websites, fees range from $30,000 to $60,000 per year, depending on grade and school, not including uniforms, transport, and materials. Still, Francesca and her husband were prepared to shoulder this.
"We will shoot ourselves in the foot financially for her," she admitted.
To Francesca, academic achievement is not the goal.
Success, she says, is simple: "I don't care about Eve's grades. As long as she's happy and can do whatever she wants, provided it's legal and doesn't endanger herself."
The family plans to eventually move back to Indonesia, where she is from, as living in Singapore is "too expensive".
Her story underscores a deeper question many parents are grappling with today: who actually gets to give their child a 'stress-free' education — and who doesn't?
Is stepping away from exams a choice or luxury?
In October, The Straits Times reported on the Liang family, who left Singapore's education "arms race" to settle in Thailand. Their two daughters are homeschooled under the International General Certificate of Secondary Education (IGCSE) syllabus, with one earning an Outstanding Cambridge Learner Award after a perfect score in mathematics.
The story struck a chord with Singaporeans. Many praised the family for prioritising well-being over grades, while others questioned whether it is truly possible to step away from Singapore's competitive culture — and the deeply ingrained meritocratic ethos behind it.
The Liangs aren't alone. More families here are exploring alternatives — reducing tuition, choosing international schools, homeschooling, or even relocating — in hopes of giving their children a gentler childhood.
But sociologists say such decisions often reflect class and privilege, not just parenting philosophy.
For Francesca, that flexibility comes from her background.
Her biggest privilege, she said, is being a foreigner and having lived in multiple countries, which allows her to "live out of the Singapore bubble".
She believes Singapore's education system is "the most meritocratic", and insists hard work still matters and "can get you places".
Recalling her time at Raffles Girls' School, she said she had friends from "a huge range of financial backgrounds", including those "poor by Singaporean standards" who still managed to succeed.
She has also seen the other side.
Some foreign parents she knew tried donating their way into elite schools in Singapore — only to be rejected.
"All the tuition in the world is useless without hard work here," she said.
Her experiences reinforced her belief in meritocracy — but it also highlighted how resources can shape which paths a child can choose.
Despite her flexible parenting approach, Francesca maintains that one "can't just skip school completely".
"I will say for most people, academic success will determine financial success because unfortunately, people still look at your school and grades when it comes to hiring," she said.
Prioritising children's emotional well-being 'a form of privilege'
Another parent who only wanted to be known as Ms Chew quit her full-time entrepreneur job to homeschool her two children, aged five and three.
Believing that childhood is fleeting, the 38-year-old pulled her children out of a local preschool this year as she wanted them to "explore the world around them" during the early years.
The ages zero to six are important to build that foundation of attachment with the parent, said the stay-at-home mother. Spending five days a week in school, she noted, meant parents only saw their children at dinner and bedtime.
Being able to make that choice, however, comes with financial realities.
Ms Chew acknowledged that being able to quit her job to care for her children, while her partner remained the sole breadwinner, is a "luxury that not many people have because a lot of families require double income".
Some of her friends manage by "downsizing or living a bit more simply" to make do with a single income.
She added that homeschooling "actually doesn't cost us much. It cost me my career, but we save about $70,000 a year".
Based on searches of private preschool websites, Stomp estimates that tuition in Singapore typically ranges from $1,200 to $2,500 per month per child, excluding enrichment classes, materials, and transport.
Ms Chew stressed that her decision was driven by wanting to prioritise her children's holistic development and emotional well-being, but acknowledged that this is "a form of privilege".
She recognises that for families from less fortunate backgrounds, "following the standard path is all they can bank on" — one that is "safe, measurable, and does provide some form of success".
Her children will eventually attend a local primary school when they turn seven. She also pointed out that she sees value "in a more structured environment".
Ultimately, she believes everyone should "run their own race".
Singapore is not a "perfect society" — there will always be people who have more than others. "And that's fine", said Ms Chew.
'I always did my best when it came to studying'
For some, alternatives aren't on the table at all, and the path through Singapore's mainstream system is shaped by necessity.
A 24-year-old student who only wished to be known as Mr Sim said he grew up in a family of modest means. His parents, who primarily spoke Mandarin and earned about $3,500 a month combined, had limited educational opportunities.
"We would always try to scrimp and save money wherever we could, and any purchasing decision had to be carefully thought out," he said.
However, his parents believed in "the importance of a good education" and did their best to provide him with the resources needed to succeed academically. He is now pursuing a degree in Biomedical Science and Biobusiness at the Nanyang Technological University.
While they never pressured him to study, they offered encouragement without imposing high expectations, which he "greatly appreciated".
People have different definitions of success, but coming from a less financially well-off family compared to others, he said, taught him to appreciate what he has and not take anything for granted.
To him, success means being able to provide for his family, and to "repay them for their unwavering support".
He believes Singapore remains largely meritocratic, though hard work does not always guarantee results.
"I always did my best when it came to studying and I believe I have received a good education so far," he said, citing his ability to enrol in his preferred secondary school, junior college, and university purely on academic merit.
"Hard work is important and plays a big part in success (in Singapore), but it only brings you this far," said Mr Sim.
Privilege, he added, plays an "undeniable and significant role" in accessing opportunities within the education system and internships, often through personal connections.
Rather than letting challenges discourage him, he uses them as motivation to work harder and make the most of available resources.
"Success to me," Mr Sim concluded, is "defying the odds and the cards you are dealt", and reaching a place that is both "fulfilling and economically rewarding", so he can provide a comfortable life for his family.
'How much of this is meritocratic?'
Sociologist George Wong of the Singapore Management University (SMU) said families like the Liangs highlight growing awareness that socioeconomic status, privilege, and background can open doors.
The ability to opt out of the system, he said, exists because the system still "perpetuates" those with privilege, resources and capital.
A rising sentiment, he noted, is that "education is unequal in some ways despite the government's best efforts to make things meritocratic."
"I think people are, in some ways, disgruntled because, on one hand, it's a reminder that they still share that same ecosystem where you cannot run away from exams and grades, and that success is still measured by those standards. But on the other hand, there's also this question of how much of this is meritocratic?"
Mr Wong acknowledged that individual effort and merit still matter — noting the Liang daughters clearly worked hard — but their success was also enabled by resources and opportunities.
"It's perhaps easier. There are fewer barriers or challenges for families or children to succeed in these alternative means precisely because they have the means to do so," he added.
Sociologist Jacqueline Ho from SMU said parents today have increasingly "diverse definitions of success", yet many find themselves "caught between different, conflicting narratives about what it means to be successful".
This creates a "conundrum" for parents, she said — wanting their children to learn at their own pace, but also having a fear of them falling behind.
This anxiety, Ms Ho said, may also stem from financial insecurity. For many families, education feels like the "armour" their children need to shield themselves from economic uncertainty.
The "aspiration to live a slow life and deemphasise academics" is also shaped by class, Ms Ho explained. Parents who grew up with limited educational qualifications may feel more anxious about their children's futures.
Ultimately, Ms Ho noted, parents do have some agency in deciding how hard to push their children. But in Singapore, academic qualifications still carry enormous weight, and resources often determine how much freedom families have to explore alternative paths.
Who really gets to choose their path?
The stories of Francesca, Ms Chew, Mr Sim and the Liang family all show how differently success, opportunity and pressure play out depending on one's circumstances.
They also reveal a stark truth: not every family can choose their path, and not every child has the same chance to step outside the system.
At its core, the debate isn't simply about homeschooling or international schools. It's about who gets to choose their path — and who can't.
