'A luxury not many have': Can only the privileged in S'pore give their kids a stress-free school life?
Some Singapore parents are ditching tuition and the rat race — homeschooling their kids, moving overseas, and putting well-being before grades. But is stepping away from exams really a choice — or a luxury?
In Singapore, success has long been framed through meritocracy: work hard, study hard, and you'll go far.
But that ideal, often tied to ethnic equality, is increasingly criticised as "elitist," according to Singapore's Evolving Meritocracy, a publication by the Lee Kuan Yew School of Public Policy.
With growing emphasis on holistic development, more families are exploring alternative education pathways such as homeschooling.
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 family's story struck a chord with Singaporeans. Many praised them for prioritising well-being over grades, while others questioned whether it's possible to fully step away from Singapore's competitive culture — and the deeply ingrained meritocratic ethos that underpins it.
It also raises a bigger question: is the ability to prioritise a child's holistic development over the local academic pressure cooker, in itself, a form of privilege?
Prioritising children's emotional well-being 'a form of privilege'
Speaking to Stomp, a stay-at-home mother who wished to be known only as Ms Chew, said she 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 to let them "explore the world around them".
She emphasised that the ages zero to six are important to build that foundation of attachment with the parent. Spending five days a week in school, she noted, meant parents only saw their children at dinner and bedtime.
Ms Chew also 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".
She said some friends have managed to scale down — by "downsizing or living a bit more simply" — to make do on a single income. She also noted 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 said her decision to homeschool her children was driven by a desire to prioritise her children's holistic development and emotional well-being.
She acknowledged that this, too, is "a form of privilege", noting 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".
Ms Chew still plans to give her children a variety of learning experiences, sharing that they will enrol in a local primary school when they turn seven. She also pointed out that there are "benefits to learning in a more structured environment".
Ultimately, she believes that people should "run their own race", adding that Singapore is not a "perfect society" — there will always be people who have more than others. "And that's fine", said Ms Chew.
'As long as she's happy'
Francesca, a TikToker and stay-at-home mother, enrolled her 6-year-old daughter, Eve, into the Singapore American School (SAS), believing that Eve's "little rebel" personality would thrive there.
Having tried a local preschool over a summer, Francesca said that it was not a good fit, as the staff there were "very strict with the kids".
"We will shoot ourselves in the foot financially for her," she told Stomp, acknowledging the hefty cost of international schooling in Singapore.
According to publicly available international school websites, fees range from $30,000 to $60,000 per year, depending on grade and school, not including uniforms, transport, and materials.
The family, however, plans to move back to Indonesia — where she is from — as living in Singapore is too expensive.
For her, success for Eve 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."
Having lived and studied in other countries, Francesca believes that Singapore's education system is "the most meritocratic".
Referring to the Liang family, she acknowledged that there will always be people with resources and advantages, no matter where one lives — but in Singapore, she said, "working hard can get you places."
Reflecting on her time at Raffles Girls' School, Francesca said she had friends from "a huge range of financial backgrounds". Some were "poor by Singaporean standards", yet still managed to succeed.
She also recounted how some foreign parents she knew had tried donating to elite schools to secure a spot for their children — but were rejected in Singapore.
"All the tuition in the world is useless without hard work here," she said.
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".
Despite her flexible parenting approach, Francesca maintains that one "can't just skip school completely". Academic achievement still plays a crucial role in determining financial success, though personality and character matter just as much.
'I always did my best when it came to studying'
Stomp also spoke to a 24-year-old student, who only wished to be known as Mr Sim, and pursuing a degree in Biomedical Science and Biobusiness at the Nanyang Technological University.
Growing up, Mr Sim and his family faced financial constraints. His parents came from modest backgrounds, had limited educational opportunities, primarily spoke Mandarin, and together earned about $3,500 a month.
"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 recognised the "importance of a good education" and did their best to provide him with the resources needed to succeed academically.
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" in ensuring he had the opportunities they themselves were denied in their youth.
From personal experience, 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.
He added that privilege plays an "undeniable and significant role" in accessing opportunities within the education system and internships, often through personal connections.
Pointing to the growing emphasis on holistic development and alternative education pathways, he acknowledged their appeal, describing them not as a privilege per se, but as a "preference" families can now choose to pursue.
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) told Stomp that people are aware of how socioeconomic status, privilege, and background can open doors — much like the Liang family's ability to step away from the local education system.
He added that the ability to choose alternative education pathways exists because the system "still perpetuates" those with privilege, resources and capital.
The perception that seems to be growing in Singapore, Mr Wong said, 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 can 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 pointed out the increasingly "diverse definitions of success" among parents of young children, many of whom find themselves "caught between different, conflicting narratives about what it means to be successful".
This creates a "conundrum" for parents, she said — the struggle between wanting their children to learn at their own pace, and the fear of them falling behind.
This anxiety, Ms Ho said, may also stem from financial insecurity, with many parents viewing education as the "armour" their children need to shield themselves from economic uncertainty.
Referring to the discussions surrounding the Liang family's story, she pointed to the "class dimension" as well. Some, she said, may feel "envious" that certain families can afford to exit the system, while they themselves cannot — because "exiting requires resources".
"The aspiration to live a slow life and deemphasise academics is itself also classed," said Ms Ho explained, adding that parents who grew up with limited educational qualifications may feel more concerned about their children's futures.
They may also lack the kinds of resources — such as social networks or financial stability — that can guarantee their children's security even if they do not perform well academically.
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 the Liang family, Ms Chew, Francesca, and Mr Sim show that success can look very different depending on the opportunities and constraints a child faces, according to experts.
Yet they also highlight a stark reality: 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 just about homeschooling or international schools. It's about who gets to choose their path — and who can't.
