Reflections of an old student

of Yangzheng School in Singapore

Andrew Yip, Singapore

I enrolled as a student of Yangzheng School immediately after World War II. It seems such a long time ago, but
memories of my school days in this co-educational vernacular school have been etched deeply in my mind. As I
reflect, I cannot help but think of how the good years have fleeted by. Images of the past filled my heart with
deep emotions, and this can only be expressed in poetry:

Those fleeting years

Away those fleeting years and prime,
Even lingering in quietness - the tyranny of time,
Here am I with just some baggage,
Odd pieces of old belongings in the luggage,
And a scrapbook with turbid thoughts and images,
Even things untold, words unspoken, on its pages.

Yet I must go forward, forgive and forget

Limping along a lonesome lane of regret
Leaving behind memories too sad to recall
Still to stay strong; not to falter, nor fall;
That I might grow older, but wiser through His light,
And follow a footway both right and bright.

T’s grace that has kept me to this day

And taught my soul to pray,
He held me up and set my feet upon a rock,
Upon which raging tempests cannot mock,
Even dark clouds can scarcely climb,
When I rise with firm faith and hope sublime.

And now time-tested like tempered steel

And absolved believing love and salvation real,
I remain strong with a new vision,
Ragged though I am, yet with conviction,
I stand true, trusted and tall,
And with God’s grace and this all,
Is to start, always anew, and wait -
Outside of heaven’s gate - even this late!

Those fleeting years are like a tapestry elegantly woven together with fascinating patches of bold and
imaginative designs, a culmination of years of toil and struggle in our lives. The years of study at
Yangzheng School were experiences that involved deep emotions, because they reminded me of the
traumas of the war years.
I was brought up in Chinatown. I started my schooling in the post-war years. My parents thought that the
best form of schooling would be a combination of English education and Chinese education. So, while
studying in English at Pearl’s Hill School and Outram School and eventually, in Raffles Institution, I
also attended Yangzheng School. It was a fascinating combination of both English and Chinese
education. I was drawn into two main streams of culture in this way. In essence, it was a form of
immersion in Chinese culture and language.

Immediately after the Japanese Occupation, my parents took me to the School at Club Street. To Chinese
people in Chinatown, Yangzheng always stood as a beacon of learning. It also stood tall and strong and
continued to operate throughout the war years. Naturally, it was a proud day for the Yips when they
joined the queues at the Cui Lan Pavilion. It was raining. A young teacher with an umbrella greeted
everyone in Cantonese, and started processing the applications. Most of the children gathered there were
found to be over-aged. I was over-aged too, but nevertheless I was admitted to the School. Later in the
day, we were led to the classrooms within a building known as “Crescent Moon”.

The first School assembly was a memorable experience. Everywhere, there were students. A steady
stream of students poured into the school field. Row by row they lined up, waiting for the Principal to
appear. A few stern words about school rules were heard over the loudspeakers. To me, it was like a
dream come through. I breathed deeply as I inhaled the fresh air, and stared in wonder and bewilderment
at the azure sky. The School field shone out as a place of hope. For a moment, I was in deep thought. I
quickly looked up, when the idle school chatters was replaced by a hush. The Principal, Mr. Lin Yao
Xiang had appeared. In silence, everyone was waiting for something to happen. The music started, and I
joined the chorus of voices singing the Chinese National Anthem. As the singing and later recitation of
pledges continued, I just could not suppress the images that swarmed my mind. Images of past, present
and future seemed to dance around my eyes in a haphazard manner, making me slightly confused and
dazed. For a while, the past, that wretched period of Japanese Occupation, and the singing of Japanese
songs, seemed like figments of my imagination, and the future seemed hazy and obscure. Only the
present seemed real, as I gazed at the beautiful flag of the Chinese Kuomintang, hung on top of a tall
flagpole. The flag had replaced the accustomed Japanese “sun” flag, to which I had to bow in
humiliation and fear. Then I heard the Principal’s voice. Everyone listened attentively to his words of
encouragement.

I have always been proud of the graduation certificate from Yangzheng School, although it always looked
strange and odd, like an antique scroll in Chinese characters amongst certificates from Cambridge, the
Edinburgh University, Pennsylvania State University, University of Malaya, and University of Singapore. The
Yangzheng School certificate looked cute enough, as it displayed a photograph of me at the age of fourteen, and
it carried inscriptions indicating that I was from the Dongguan Province in China, although I was born and bred
in Singapore. Ironically, now that I have bought a house in Dongguan, China and stayed there once in a while,
the certificate has become particularly useful, because it is the only tangible proof I possess to show my
ancestral connection with this Guangdong province. For those who think that a primary school leaving
certificate is unimportant, I would say, “think again,” because I found that on numerous occasions I had to show
my Yangzheng certificate to various relevant authorities, including the Public Service Commission and the
Universities. Why yes, I presented the Yangzheng certificate rather proudly to overseas universities too, as well
as the Overseas Chinese Liaison Department of Dongguan City in China.

This is just another way of saying that no matter how high one goes up the academic ladder, or how successfully
you are in your careers whether in the civil service or in the private sector, the name “Yangzheng” follows you.
It is not in oblivion as some might think. As an experienced psychologist with a Master’s degree, I am in a
position to point out that the association with the school and the things learnt there, stay with us and integrated
into our values system and our personality.

What are the things from Yangzheng that matter most? For a Chinatown boy, I believe the inculcation of
discipline was crucial. I still remember a friend of mine who became a Chief Engineer of the former Public
Utilities Board, but had now migrated to Canada. He was taught at Kreta Ayer Road to steal chickens. I suppose
many of us at Kreta Ayer also learnt bad things from bad hats, and we learnt very little discipline from private
tutors or those makeshift unregistered schools at residential premises. Well, that friend of mine became more
disciplined after attending Yangzheng School with me.

But certain words from teachers of Yangzheng were inscribed in my hearts. To this day, and without checking
the pages of my old autograph book, I still can recite what Mr. Chew, our Chinese Literature teacher had
autographed. He had penned these words in Chinese: “You must preserve your heart and keep it pure. This is
better than preserving and keeping anything else, because ultimately the things that shape your life and affect
you, all come from the heart.”

Good teachers do not just teach or inform, they also inspire. I remember how inspired I was by the music
teacher, Mr. Lee. Even in Raffles Institution with all its resources, I did not get the same inspiration from other
music teachers. They only succeeded in getting me to join the school brass band. But the music and songs that
ring in my ears throughout my adult life came from someone in Yangzheng who taught me to appreciate
classical music.

I can go on ad infinitum about other teachers. But to conclude this brief reflection, I feel sure that the School
has played a crucial role at a critical time during the War and Post-War years in a Chinatown location for
children there and everywhere, befitting what William Shakespeare had said, “Each in his own time plays a
part.”

(Editor’s note: The writer, Andrew Yip, is an author of several popular books. He completed his primary
education in Yangzheng School, and graduated in 1948. He lived in Chinatown, until he completed his
university education. A University scholar, he obtained the degrees of B.A (Geography and Economics), B.A.
Hons. (Geography), DipEd with Credit, and M.Ed (Advanced Educational Psychology). He taught in Raffles
Institution as the Senior Geography Master and later became a Lecturer with the Teachers’ Training College and
an Inspector of Schools. In later years, he served in various Ministries, including the Ministry of Defence where
he served as a military officer and as the Chief Education Officer of the Singapore Armed Forces. He was later
appointed as Director, Nanyang University, while serving in the University Court and Council of the University
of Singapore. He also founded the ISS International School as its Executive Vice President and the IBMEC, an
education centre for Management studies of which he was Director. He also spearheaded the formation of the
American College as its Director. He had written several books and poems both in Chinese and English, and
known to be one of the few top public administrators who are effectively bilingual both in English and
Chinese.)