The lessons we take from obstacles we encounter can be fundamental to later success. Recount a time when you faced a challenge, setback, or failure. How did it affect you, and what did you learn from the experience?

M also applied to US universities but merely get onto the waitlist. She had only applied to top "ivy league and equivalent" schools which are notoriously hard to get into (the recent admission shenanigans aside). In their response, the US schools however demonstrate a masterclass in managing disappointments!

One school wrote back,
"I hope you understand that the decision reflects the extraordinary range of talents represented in our applicant pool and not a judgment about your own abilities and potential. Of the nearly thirty seven thousand individuals who applied this year, most are fully capable of doing outstanding work and making a contribution to a campus community. It is painful to us that we must turn away so many superlatively talented students. You may be tempted to ask what was lacking in your application. In truth, it is usually difficult to point to obvious weaknesses when so many applicants have demonstrated real achievements and potential for the future. Our decisions say far more about the small number of spaces available and the difficult choices we make than they do about a candidate's personal and academic promise".
What linguistic prowess!

Well, it is unfortunate she was not chosen but her personal statement essay already tell us she will rise well from this.

Sounds of stiff applause filled the arena. Competitors filed in, discreetly sizing each other up. The tension was palpable, alongside the unmistakable smell of treats.

I was 12 and at my maiden canine obedience competition with my 6-month-old poodle, Caramel. Awaiting our turn, I felt Caramel’s nose against my ankle. Neither of us were good with anxiety: at the vet, Caramel had thrown up in hopes of escaping vaccination.

“Next, please.” Heart racing, I signalled her to begin the routine. To my relief, the first segment progressed well. Caramel surprised me (and the judges, I hoped) with impeccable moves.

However, part two was less certain. Despite weeks of practice, we had not mastered the “sit-and-stay”, because six-month-old Caramel just could not keep still. After instructing her, I headed for the exit, but the sound of muffled laughter stopped me. I whipped around, only to find her crouched in the midst of a Number Two. Speechless, I watched horrified as Caramel finished her business and fled the room, disqualifying us. All hopes of winning were soiled, literally.

Running after Caramel, I felt like an utter loser. My grandparents would be aghast! Second-generation immigrants to Malaysia, failing was not an option in their struggles against discrimination. They had taught me that only winners are rewarded. Imagining their frowns at this public disgrace, I was close to tears. I had never not aced before.

Upon finding Caramel, my mortification eased. Wiggling her bottom joyfully, she was oblivious to her blunder. I couldn’t help laughing. Indeed, it was absurd to be ashamed of failing instead of laughing it off and moving on! So, we re-entered the arena, my head (and her tail) held high to friendly applause.

I’ve been in many competitions since, albeit without Caramel who still poops at awkward times. Playing softball competitively for 6 years and representing my country on several occasions, I know the heartache of strikeouts and elation of homeruns. Palms sweating before each match, I was anxious throughout every season but I grew better at conquering the fear of losing. Familiar with the pain of failure on the field, I rallied my teammates when they underperformed. Earliest at trainings and last to leave, our tireless practise saw us rise from underdogs to national champions.

It was one thing to occasionally lose in sports, but it was more daunting to fail in areas I have always excelled in. Although well-meaning peers warned against overloading my schedule and staining my near-perfect grades, I accepted a prestigious offer to read Geopolitics at the National University of Singapore. A geography student surrounded by history majors, I struggled without the pre-requisite foundations (Robert McNamara seemed like just another bespectacled Caucasian.) Knowing less than others was tough, but I wanted to learn – not to become the best, but to satisfy my curiosity. I devoured jargoned readings and researched issues like the Israel-Palestine conflict. Fortunately Singapore is far-removed from violent conflict, but Benedict Anderson’s observation of nationalism as Imagined Communities holds true. Having completed the final assessments, I don’t know what my grade is, but it’s all good. At least, I now recognise defence secretaries and understand how conflicts shape policies, or how policies worsen conflict in the thick of the fog of war.

By the time I was elected vice-chair of the school’s Peer Support Board, I was unafraid to try new things and risk failure, but this also made me overzealous. In organizing Orientation programmes, my proactive ways prevented assigned leaders from working things out themselves. Thereafter, I consciously sought others’ opinions, learning to empower rather than command.

Born determined and competitive, I cannot help striving for the best. Now though, I’ve learnt to seize instead of size opportunities. Inspired by Caramel, I’ve learnt that failing is but a chance to improve. Like her, I’ll aim for Number 1, but won’t let life’s Number 2s get me down!

 PS: about a month ago, Caramel's brother, Summer passed after living a long 15 dog years. He is happy in doggy heaven.