The JC-ITE Dichotomy: How Educational Hierarchies Perpetuate the Divide Within
Sherlita Almeyra Sherhan
27 Jan 2025
15 min read
Singapore’s education system has undergone significant transformations over the years, aiming to provide equal opportunities for all students. In 2024, our secondary schools were introduced to the subject-based banding system (G1, G2, G3). While this move towards mixed-ability classrooms is a commendable step, it remains to be seen whether it will truly address the deep-rooted social and academic divisions that exist due to our education system.
At the heart of the issue lies the ultimate destination for students: Junior College (JC), Polytechnic (Poly), or Institute of Technical Education (ITE). This tripartite division, while seemingly created with good intentions, perpetuates a hierarchical structure that privileges academic excellence over other forms of intelligence and talent.
Our Malay community is not immune to the negative impacts of these educational divisions. We often find ourselves navigating a complex social and educational landscape where Malay students are disproportionately overrepresented in ITEs and underrepresented in JCs.
The hierarchy in Singapore’s education system where JCs are seen as the “first choice” and ITEs as the “last choice” profoundly shapes the experiences and perceptions of our Malay students. How does this influence their sense of success and failure, and what impact does this have on our Malay students’ social identity? In what ways do the societal perceptions of academic success shape the experiences of Malay students in ITE and JC, and what are the challenges faced because of this?
In 2016, Sanwari’s thesis “I’m Not That Kind of Malay,” found that Malay youths adopted strategies such as defensive othering and social distancing as adaptive responses. These behaviours, in turn, reinforced in-group discrimination[1]. With this thesis conducted 8 years ago, it is important to explore whether such phenomena still exist within the Malay community, given Singapore’s evolving educational landscape.
Yasmin, National Junior College alumna, added:
“I only had ITE friends after I left NJ and worked in F&B. I refrain from saying where I am from to blend in because it is easier to talk to them without that barrier. Like they know me as myself and not a ‘budak pandai (smart kid) from JC.”
Khalis, an ITE College West student, expressed:
“I have met with Malay students from JC. Personally, I feel like they lack social skills and some of them think that they are better than students from ITE.”
Amirah, an ITE College East student, shared her observations:
“I know of some Malay ITE students who come from low-income and/or broken families that have a lot of riak (arrogance in malay) and are rowdy because they think that everyone hates them. So, when they meet JC Malays, they think that the JC students think that they are better than them. I think JC students would have a hard time interacting with these ITE Malays because they will always think that the JC students think lowly of them.”
Nurin, Raffles Institution alumna, shared her experience:
“I have friends that I’ve known since primary school who are super mat and minah – not in a bad way. The way they speak is just very different from my JC friends. They speak very kasar (coarsely), and no matter what I do, whenever I interact with friends from ITE, they always say that I am too proper, even though I feel that I am matching their energy. Yes, there are some JC students who do feel better and are pretentious, but from my own interactions, the moment people find out I am from JC, they just don’t want to talk to me anymore, and I get singled out.”
From the excerpts above, we can see that there exists this ‘invisible wall’ between our Malay JC and ITE students, solely because they are from different schools. But, how and why exactly does this happen?
The perception of “better-than-thou” attitudes of JC students creates an environment where interactions are charged with underlying assumptions and judgments. Some ITE students coming from a background that is often looked down upon, are primed to view JC students as dismissive, fostering a defensive attitude that can perpetuate further divides. On the other hand, JC students, who find themselves thrust into environments where they are the minority, often adopt a sense of ‘otherness’ because of their unfamiliarity with their peers’ backgrounds and experiences.
This division, even if unintentional, becomes a powerful force in reinforcing the separation between ITE and JC students. The ‘invisible wall’ goes beyond academic prestige; it is also about cultural and social capital.
Due to their minority status within their cohort, Malay JC students are placed in an atypical position.
Aliya, Yishun-Innova Junior College alumna, shared:
“I’ve received a lot of backhanded compliments before. During orientation, I was the only Malay. ‘Wah you Malay you enter JC?’ In my head, I thought, ‘Racist pe. I enter JC my problem la sia’. But I think other races just don’t see many Malays in JCs so they view us as rare crystals.”
Nurin expressed:
“Being a Malay/Muslim surrounded predominantly by non-Malay/Muslim students often makes me feel like a burden. Like when we want to hang out, they must keep in mind what I can or cannot eat. This was quite challenging for me because I did not want to be a burden to my friends.”
Yasmin added:
“I discovered class disparity in JC. When we had to do projects, I had to do projects at my friends’ houses, and it’s always landed (property) or condo. Meanwhile, the people who usually live in HDBs are those from my race – the Malays.”
These experiences illustrate the sense of discomfort and alienation that many Malay students feel when placed in a predominantly non-Malay/Muslim environment, such as in many of Singapore’s JCs. The nuances of cultural and religious differences — such as dietary restrictions — may seem trivial, but they can reinforce feelings of being an outsider. For many Malay students, these minor obstacles are constant reminders of their minority status within the social hierarchy of the school.
It’s essential to highlight that these challenges are not just personal inconveniences; they represent the deep-seated realities of class and ethnic divisions. For Malay students, who are disproportionately represented in lower-income housing and have lower average levels of academic attainment, these barriers act as constant reminders of the broader societal structures that shape their educational opportunities and social interactions.
On the other hand, Malay students in ITEs find an environment where their social and cultural capital is more recognised and appreciated. For these students, ITE offers a space where they can connect with peers who share similar backgrounds, cultural experiences, and worldviews. As a result, ITE becomes a place of comfort and belonging.
Khalis shared how these disparities are viewed from the other side:
“Honestly, ITE has been really fun because I get to mix with people of my own race.”
Batrisya, ITE College East alumna, added:
“Being a Malay student in ITE allowed me to easily connect with a lot of people within the Malay community. I feel that being Malay gave me an advantage in ITE in terms of forming friendships and connections because the community is close-knit, and there’s a sense of familiarity and shared experiences.”
This sense of belonging and ease in connecting with peers is a significant part of the ITE experience for many Malay students. In an environment where shared cultural values and experiences are the norm, students feel a sense of belonging, not just academically, but socially and culturally as well. In turn, this confidence can have a positive impact on their overall experience. Free from the pressure of fitting in, the ITE environment feels more like a second home to Malay students rather than just an institution for learning.
In contrast, Malay students in JCs often struggle with a sense of belonging, as they find themselves as the minority population. As Sanwari (2016) notes, patterns in Malay youths’ social experiences, both in school and in the workplace, shape their perceptions of themselves and other Malays. They internalise negative stereotypes and often consciously (or unconsciously) resist those notions in an effort to assert their own identities and challenge the assumptions placed on them[2]. The lack of representation of Malays in JC can further deepen this sense of disconnection, leading most to become more inclined to engage in cultural activities to assert their identity and find a space where they feel comfortable.
Nurin expressed:
“My happiest moments are always with the Malay Language and Literature (MLL)/Malay Language Elective Programme (MLEP) stuff. I really look forward to it. I don’t even know what I would do without it, not going to lie.”
On a similar note, Aliya shared:
“Being a Malay in JC made me value the fact that I am Malay. Like since there were so few Malays, I decided to join the Malay Cultural Society (MCS) to sort of contribute to the population. I ended up being very involved and it made me appreciate my culture more.”
While engaging in cultural activities provides a sense of belonging, it also underscores the deeper challenges Malay students face due to the racial and cultural dynamics within these institutions.
According to Solorzano et al. (2000) , while ‘microaggressions’ may seem harmless and expressed without overt malicious intent, they reflect stereotypes and beliefs that reaffirm the subordinate position of those on the receiving end[3]. In Sanwari’s thesis, Malay youths had been confronted time and time again with others’ negative perceptions of their abilities and intellect for they are judged not based on their individual self, but on their race. These experiences of having their subordinate social position reinforced have negative impacts on their self-esteem, aspirations and achievements[4].
The perception that ITE students are academically less capable while JC students are academically elite only deepens the divide between the two educational pathways. This binary view oversimplifies the diverse experiences and abilities of students within each system. It fails to acknowledge that both groups consist of individuals with unique strengths, challenges and aspirations. Such generalisations not only reinforce social hierarchies but also limit the potential of students by imposing labels that don’t account for their varied academic journeys and personal circumstances.
Amirah explained:
“Online, the public sees Malay ITE students hisap rokok (smoke cigarettes), wrecking things in the toilet or setting things on fire. It’s a bad image, and when I reveal myself as an ITE student, they think of me badly. I get told like ‘oh typical Malay, take N Levels only,’ and it makes me feel embarrassed. Some employers also don’t want ITE students because of our reputation.”
Iman, a student at ITE College Central, shared:
“I’ve been told that we lack discipline and don’t have a future. But like some Malays aren’t keen on studying because they’re not interested so they doze off in class or just don’t go to school. But there are also those who really like their course, so they pay a lot of attention, and they have a high GPA, you know?”
Yasmin shared a contrasting perspective:
“The Malay community views us JC students as the cream of the crop. They automatically assume we will go somewhere, and it puts unnecessary pressure on us to get a good job and uplift the community. We not only have to excel in academics but outside of academics as well. We must take up leadership roles, etc. I mean it’s good that we look outside of academics but there is this pressure to perform holistically because you are a Malay in JC and for a teenager, it’s a lot. It doesn’t allow you to look at other forms of success either.”
Nurin added:
“I feel pressured because I’m told that it’s not easy for a Malay to get to where I am. I am still told to ‘Be a doctor! Be a lawyer!’ even though I have made it clear that I am not interested in those fields. Being Malay in JC seems like a niche and others will tell you that ‘This is a big achievement! You cannot waste this opportunity; you have to make it big!’”
Stereotypes about ITE and JC students often stem from unfounded assumptions. ITE students face prejudice due to stereotypes that unfairly label them. These misconceptions overlook the diverse talents, aspirations, and potential that the ITE students possess. The stigma, reinforced by the media and social narratives, can undermine their self-esteem and ambitions, leaving many feeling undervalued. JC students, on the other hand, are pressured to excel holistically to serve as role models for their community. Being seen as the “exception” within their community, their journeys are made to be even more challenging as they face heightened expectations.
As a result, both ITE and JC students are trapped in a cycle of misunderstanding, where their individual struggles and achievements are overshadowed by stereotypical assumptions that limit their opportunities and reinforce social divisions.
We must reflect on how these stereotypes, reinforced by societal structures and biases, shape the experiences of Malay students in Singapore’s educational system. As discussed by Aziz, the habitus concept – originally introduced by Pierre Bourdieu – suggests that our thoughts, values, beliefs, and actions are deeply influenced by the social environment in which we are immersed. This concept is relevant when considering the divide between ITE and JC students[5]. It is not only the educational pathways that shape their identities but also the societal pressures and stereotypes that surround them, often dictating their perceived worth and place within the community.
Nurin shared:
“Relatives like to use JC students as “bragging rights” and this makes others think that I ‘berlagak bagus (act all high and mighty)’ but I didn’t say or do anything. It’s my relatives that show off.”
The above experience sheds light on how the community often elevates JC students, framing them as symbols of success. This pedestal, however, comes with a cost, as it perpetuates the stereotype that JC students are arrogant, even when these perceptions stem more from society’s views than from the students’ own actions.
Amirah also commented:
“There is this whole thing about how JC students should teach ITE students. I think we should see ourselves as one Malay community. I don’t understand why it is always that ITE students must learn from JC students. I think if we are given the chance to feel like we are on-par with each other then ITE and JC students can connect more easily.”
This highlights the common assumption that JC students are positioned as the ‘better’ role models. The idea of mutual learning and understanding taking place in the Malay community challenges this hierarchical thinking. Perhaps if students from different educational backgrounds are given more opportunities to connect on common ground, they can foster more empathy and support for one another.
This brings us to a crucial question: what does creating a hierarchy between ITE and JC students really achieve? Is it productive to impose this ranking, suggesting that one group is inherently ‘better’ than the other simply because JCs are often seen as the ‘first choice’ and ITEs as the ‘last resort? After all, the academic experiences and challenges faced by students in these two pathways appear to be covering the same themes – albeit in different contexts.
Rather than perpetuating divides, it's time we tear down the walls between ITE and JC students and create spaces where they can truly learn from one another. Imagine a future where students from both paths come together – not just to share knowledge, but to challenge stereotypes, build empathy, and grow collectively. Let’s advocate for programmes that break away from the hierarchy, encouraging collaboration, shared goals, and mutual respect. In doing so, we can nurture a generation that values diverse talents and supports each other, paving the way for a more united and resilient Malay community.
All quotes in this article are attributed to individuals using pseudonyms to protect their privacy and ensure confidentiality.
[1] Sanwari, F. N. (2016). “I’m not that kind of Malay”: negotiating Malay identity in Singapore. Nanyang Technological University, Singapore
[3] Solorzano, D., Ceja, M., & Yosso, T. (2000). Critical race theory, racial microaggressions, and campus racial climate: The experiences of African American college students. Journal of Negro Education, 60-73.
[4] Sanwari, F. N. (2016). “I’m not that kind of Malay”: negotiating Malay identity in Singapore. Nanyang Technological University, Singapore
[5] Aziz, N. (2009) Malay Stereotypes: Acceptance and Rejection in the Malay Community. National University of Singapore, Singapore
Sherlita Almeyra Sherhan is a graduate of Raffles Institution and currently a Research Intern at RIMA. Her research interests lie in exploring social issues affecting the Malay community and the preservation of Malay culture in the context of global influences. She is the Co-Founder and pro-bono CEO of MudaSG, Vice-Chairperson of M3@GeylangSerai and Youth Lead for M3@JalanBesar.
About the Author
Sherlita Almeyra Sherhan is currently pursuing a Bachelor's of Social Work in SUSS. Her research interests lie in exploring social issues affecting the Malay community and the preservation of Malay culture in the context of global influences. She is the Co-Founder and pro-bono CEO of MudaSG, Vice-Chairperson of M3@GeylangSerai and Youth Lead for M3@Jalan Besar.
The JC-ITE Dichotomy: How Educational Hierarchies Perpetuate the Divide Within | Karyawan
