By Ng Dawin (25A01D)
I was looking for a job, and then I found a job
And heaven knows I’m miserable now
—The Smiths, Heaven Knows I’m Miserable Now
A few weeks ago, during an Economics lesson, a friend uttered a statement which undoubtedly, many of us will find relatable.
“There’s just too much schoolwork nowadays. I’m so behind on everything. What’s the point of doing my work when I will never finish everything?”
Depressing, isn’t it, to have your whole teenage life revolve around school? The never-ending list of lectures yet undone, exhausting CCA sessions and looming assessments. Are our efforts truly worth anything at all? What’s the point of doing all this? Is it really worth feeling so awful to stay on top of everything?
Yet, are we actually miserable? What about all the events, all the memories and all the friends we made along the way? Why do we keep on struggling?
We’re teenagers now, so it’s prime time to wax philosophy into our existential woes. And where better to start than a certain Absurdist French philosopher?
Who is Sisyphus?
In his philosophical essay The Myth of Sisyphus, Albert Camus recounts the tragic tale of the Greek mythological figure, doomed for eternity to push a rock up a mountain then watch it roll back down again.
To the Greeks and many of us illustrious students, Sisyphus’ fate represents the greatest misery man can experience—a meaningless task which offers no hope for completion, a struggle where your toils translate to absolutely zero return.
Camus, however, offered a different perspective. What if, despite the pointlessness of his existence, Sisyphus is actually happy as he fully accepts the absurdity of his struggle?
When Camus’ Sisyphus walks back down to collect his rock, he knows full well what fate has in store for him. Yet, this knowledge does not make him sad. Rather, he is at peace with his existence. Sisyphus does not despair upon the fact that he is working towards nothing. He revels in his decision to continue struggling even when everything—from the Gods, to his rock, to the sheer futility of his existence—is against him.
Sisyphus is happy because he sees his struggle not so much as the purpose of his life, but something to keep him busy.
What does this have to do with JC?
You may not agree with Camus’ assertion that life is inherently meaningless. And that’s completely okay. Whether or not you believe JC life is as pointless as pushing a rock up a hill for all eternity, there is still much to take away from The Myth of Sisyphus.
As cliche as it is, failure is an inescapable part of schooling. It will come in many ways, from not getting into CCA EXCO, doing badly in an assessment or getting rejected by a crush—and it’s a constricting knot of despair, twisting until you finally gasp in desperation—Why always me?
But wallowing in self pity won’t change anything. It won’t make you chairperson of your CCA. Nor will it raise your paltry grade. Your crush won’t suddenly become your partner either. You failed for one reason or another, and that’s that.
In the face of such overwhelming misery, Sisyphus’ acceptance of his fate inspires us to continue pushing even when everything seems arranged against us. Regardless of the reason you failed, the lesson of Sisyphus is that when you feel that the world is indifferent and uncaring, perhaps happily accepting this injustice is the best way to move on.
This simple acceptance might just be a way to get through the rigor of JC.
A lot of us teenagers have the habit of attaching some cosmic meaning to every single thing we do. Most of the time, it leads to increased satisfaction and fulfillment. However, when routine bites hard and ambitions are low, it’s easy to get lost in an avalanche of tutorials, lectures and commitments. You’ll experience cognitive dissonance – Just how do Vectors and morning assemblies help me become the best version of myself?
Inevitably, we’ll occasionally lose sight of the greater meaning in the hustle and bustle of school life. Yet, it is precisely in these moments of despair that we should look back to Camus’ Sisyphus. Not every piece of work has a greater meaning. Modifying a quote by Freud (Did he even say it?): “Sometimes a GP essay is just a GP essay.”
So, the next time you prepare to tackle your mountain or responsibilities by the horns, crack a smile. Laugh in the face of a lecturer who doesn’t know you are watching his/her lecture, your mental well-being, or the fact that your social life is reduced to asking your friends for their tutorials. The struggle of getting through JC itself is enough to fill a man’s heart. One must imagine the JC student happy.