We Keep Measuring the Wrong Things
This has been on my mind today…
I was 14 years old when a test told me who I was going to be.
In Singapore, there is a standardized examination that every student takes at 14.
The results determine which stream you are placed into.
Blue collar. White collar. Professional.
One test. One day. One number.
Your future — and in Singapore, your social standing, your family’s honor, your place in the world — assigned to you before you are old enough to drive.
I failed that test.
Not because I wasn’t intelligent.
Because I was undiagnosed ADHD and dyslexic in a system that had no language for either — and no patience for either.
Standardized tests were not built for my brain.
School, in general, was not built for my brain.
And so the system looked at me and saw exactly what it was designed to see:
A failure.
My parents refused to accept it.
And they made a decision that I don’t take lightly even now — that I think about with a weight I can’t fully put into words.
They immigrated our entire family to Canada.
They left their home, their community, their language, their lives.
So that one test would not be the last word on who their son could become.
Since then I have built multiple businesses.
I have done multimillion dollar deals.
I founded and ran Canada’s largest cultural festival for twenty years.
I built Schoolio — a platform serving thousands of families across North America.
All the things one school, one system, one test said I would never be destined to do.
And I am not telling you this to impress you.
I am telling you this because I know I am not the only one.
I am telling you this because somewhere right now there is a 14-year-old being sorted.
A 10-year-old being labeled.
A 7-year-old being told — in a hundred subtle and not-so-subtle ways — what they are and aren’t capable of.
And the measurement being used to make that call is the wrong one.
Grades measure compliance and memory.
Standardized tests measure how well your brain fits the shape of the test.
Rankings measure your performance relative to other children on the same arbitrary scale.
None of them measure curiosity.
None of them measure resilience.
None of them measure the fire that keeps a person going when everything says stop.
What would we see if we measured those things instead?
What futures would we stop writing off?
What kids would we stop sorting into boxes before they’ve had a chance to show us who they actually are?
My parents gave me something no test could give me.
The chance to find out.
I think every child deserves that chance.
Not just the ones whose brains fit the mould.
All of them.