‘Will my kids find their own Mr Smiley too?’

Growing up, Imran Johri enjoyed primary school due in large part to his principal. Ever with tongue in cheek, he shares a particularly memorable escapade, plus how he went about increasing the odds of his kids having the same fond memories.

Imran Johri is a part-time humour writer, full-time father of three who finds the lighter side to parenting every chance he gets.

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Back when I was in primary school, I had the most chill principal ever. He had streaks of silver in his hair and an ever-ready megawatt smile that flashed all the teeth the man had in his mouth.

But exactly how chill was he? Let me tell you (but students, and wild adults – do not ever come close to trying this out yourself).

In Primary 3, I pranked who I thoughtwas my friend in the school toilet. In those days, staff and students shared the same toilet so there was no really telling who was inside, but I was just so sure it was him.

Of course, being the juvenile nine-year-old that I was, I thought it would be hilarious to hose water into the toilet onto ‘my friend’. The occupant of the cubicle stayed unusually quiet and so the next best action was, of course, to shake the door like there was a SWAT breach.

Only then, as I giggled away, did a calm but firm “oei” come through the other side of the door. It was the unmistakable voice of my smiley principal.

“SORRY!” I shouted and scurried straight back to class. Later during dismissal, as I walked out of school with my mum, who was a teacher there, we bumped into a mostly dry Mr Smiley. By the look in his eye as he acknowledged us, I knew he knew it was me. And he let it go.

School’s great, and I want my kids to feel the same

It was my hope that my kids would encounter memorable principals like Mr Smiley.

His steady, quietly jovial ways permeated almost every aspect of my primary school journey as I remembered it. The teachers were mostly joyous, the canteen served an incredible roti john, the prata stall offered sardine curry no less, and to top it off, my alma mater is still going strong, long after Sir Smiley’s retirement.

Alas, it’s clearly impossible to clone my school leaders and canteen folks for my kids’ time in school.

So my wife and I did the next best thing.

Before our firstborn transitioned to primary school, we did our due diligence and researched on the few elements we felt were critical – that the school was a good fit for our daughter’s temperament and was aligned with our vision of stewardship.

To be clear, our eldest daughter is ultra-chill. This is best illustrated by her most favourite activity – reading till her neck aches, followed by a nap and an intense drawing exercise to expel the rabid imagination fuelled by the first reading activity.

Above all this, however, she is an empath the likes of which I had yet to see. Since young, she had always demonstrated the uncanny ability to feel as others did, often asking someone if they felt sad or upset even before the actual upset indicators appeared. She clearly needed an environment with leadership that puts helping others at the forefront, even while developing oneself.

We ultimately chose an all-girls school that places emphasis on character-building (it’s up there in the school motto), with a focus on empathy and integrity. We feel that the principal personifies those values too, so we’re happy.

For our second child, it was our priority to place him as close as possible to home in terms of proximity. He is without a doubt the inheritor of the audacious negotiator DNA that runs in my family. His cheekiness borders on the further end of the annoying spectrum at times, with his constant curiosity fuelling his every conversation bolstered by an ever-negotiating approach to obtain what he desires.

We were certain that any school that required some manner of distanced commute would eventually involve him losing track of time and exploring the rest of Singapore. The school we chose also has a heavier focus on academic rigour, which has been paying off in our son, much to our delight. So, do we complain? Absolutely not. Courses for horses.

Third time’s a charm?

Our third child is six so it’s time to pick the final school. And by now, we think we have, by some cosmic fluke, figured it out.

It looks like she will be joining her sister’s school, but not because they are similar – nay, far from it – this one is a ‘dance-like-no-one-is-watching’ and “I will articulate what I do not like” kind of girl. But we can see her similarly flourishing in that school’s culture because it puts emotional training first.

Now to be crystal clear, mine is far from a guide to choosing the best school for your kids. As with everything with children, it’s all a roll of the dice. For all I know, we could have completely misread both of the first two kids and they should have been in completely different environments.

But both schools have leaders we respect so that’s a good enough start to us. At the very least, and I hope it will never come to this, they will be able to turn a childish prank into something to smile about.