By Lee Chin Wee
“If the Ministry is merging JCs because of the falling birth rate, why set up Eunoia Junior College?”
This argument sums up the dissatisfaction of many Singaporeans. Few dispute the need to merge (or, to put it more bluntly, shut down) JCs due to a shrinking population – it stands to reason that there needs to be a critical mass of students in every school, since smaller cohorts mean that schools can offer fewer subject combinations, a more limited range of CCAs, and may even struggle to field competitive sports and aesthetics teams. There are economies of scale when it comes to schools, that much is indisputable.
What people are unhappy about is the age old problem of elitism. And, who can blame them? Ours is an education system built to sieve out talent; to put children through a battery of examinations and diagnostics and interviews to identify the worthy – who are then given scholarships and once again put through the gauntlet so that the survivors can be offered leadership positions in industry or governance.
This is why the politics of education animates the Singaporean populace like no other. Education is the beating heart of a society obsessed with its elites: It separates students into the haves and the have-nots from a young age; it disburses resources and opportunity based on one’s grades; it promises social mobility to a few hardworking students, yet also slams the door shut on the unfortunate majority.
I will come out and admit that, on a pragmatic basis, MOE is probably correct in merging the selected JCs. When the Integrated Programme (IP) started in 2004, the “top” schools increased their intake to ensure that students from other secondary schools could gain entry through the O-Level track. From the pre-IP intake of around 800, the annual intake of RI(JC) and HCI was increased to 1,100 – 1,200. The expansion of the IP to include schools like RVHS and DHS has also meant another 800 – 900 JC places for Singaporean students. Also keep in mind that NUSHS and SOTA (both schools are relatively new) run JC-equivalent programmes, which means an increase of another 500 – 600 places.
EJC was likely the final straw. Assuming EJC has a constant cohort of 900 students every year, the total number of “additional” JC and JC-equivalent places per cohort since the IP is approximately 4,000. That means fewer prospective students for the selected JCs (not all 4,000 students would have otherwise gone to the eight schools, but a reasonable number of them would have), due to the increased competition for students in the JC and JC-equivalent landscape. Coupled with a falling birthrate, it is clear that the selected JCs are struggling to keep their student enrollment at critical mass – MOE defines this as 1,600 (800 per batch) for JCs.
More at JC “merger”: It’s all in the message sent.
“If the Ministry is merging JCs because of the falling birth rate, why set up Eunoia Junior College?”
This argument sums up the dissatisfaction of many Singaporeans. Few dispute the need to merge (or, to put it more bluntly, shut down) JCs due to a shrinking population – it stands to reason that there needs to be a critical mass of students in every school, since smaller cohorts mean that schools can offer fewer subject combinations, a more limited range of CCAs, and may even struggle to field competitive sports and aesthetics teams. There are economies of scale when it comes to schools, that much is indisputable.
What people are unhappy about is the age old problem of elitism. And, who can blame them? Ours is an education system built to sieve out talent; to put children through a battery of examinations and diagnostics and interviews to identify the worthy – who are then given scholarships and once again put through the gauntlet so that the survivors can be offered leadership positions in industry or governance.
This is why the politics of education animates the Singaporean populace like no other. Education is the beating heart of a society obsessed with its elites: It separates students into the haves and the have-nots from a young age; it disburses resources and opportunity based on one’s grades; it promises social mobility to a few hardworking students, yet also slams the door shut on the unfortunate majority.
I will come out and admit that, on a pragmatic basis, MOE is probably correct in merging the selected JCs. When the Integrated Programme (IP) started in 2004, the “top” schools increased their intake to ensure that students from other secondary schools could gain entry through the O-Level track. From the pre-IP intake of around 800, the annual intake of RI(JC) and HCI was increased to 1,100 – 1,200. The expansion of the IP to include schools like RVHS and DHS has also meant another 800 – 900 JC places for Singaporean students. Also keep in mind that NUSHS and SOTA (both schools are relatively new) run JC-equivalent programmes, which means an increase of another 500 – 600 places.
EJC was likely the final straw. Assuming EJC has a constant cohort of 900 students every year, the total number of “additional” JC and JC-equivalent places per cohort since the IP is approximately 4,000. That means fewer prospective students for the selected JCs (not all 4,000 students would have otherwise gone to the eight schools, but a reasonable number of them would have), due to the increased competition for students in the JC and JC-equivalent landscape. Coupled with a falling birthrate, it is clear that the selected JCs are struggling to keep their student enrollment at critical mass – MOE defines this as 1,600 (800 per batch) for JCs.
More at JC “merger”: It’s all in the message sent.
