Gwyn’s Guide to NTU Modules (or: PSYCcess)

welcome to SUCCESS

Hello to all my fans. Sorry about the subtitle (thx Tar). This post is a comprehensive review of every module I have taken in NTU. For each I briefly discuss the lecturer’s style, content, assessments, workload/difficulty, and personal tips if any. I categorise modules by semester, following the chronological order in which I took them. Ctrl-F is your friend here – enter either the year/semester (e.g. Y1S1), course code (e.g. HP1000), module name (e.g. Introduction to Psychology) to jump to the relevant section directly. I also indicate the type of module (Core/Major-PE/Ger-Core/Ger-PE/UE) and number of AUs.

Background: I’m majoring in Psychology with a 2nd Major in Sociology. This means I’m doing a normal workload for psychology + 35AUs in sociology courses substituted from my UEs. Trivia: if you do the math you will realise I took too many modules and exceeded my AU cap unnecessarily. This is called poor planning, and serves as the basis of my #protip: always plan your courses in the grand scheme of your 4-year journey here. (Though I’ll tell you now that I don’t regret it.)

Disclaimer: Module syllabus differs by year and is especially contingent on the lecturer so what you read here may not be what you get. This applies most to the general modules. Niche topics, however, tend to be dominated by the same professors (Prof Ringo’s shadow looms over my harrowed soul to this day). Also note that my module trajectory is neither the definitive standard nor a guideline. I just did whatever I wanted and look how that turned out for me (not great, thank you). Finally, all notes I make are tentative and you should always take them with a pinch of salt. It is your responsibility to do your due diligence.

If you find this list helpful, share it with your friends and hopeful juniors. And follow me on Instagram @gwynethtyt for more Tips N Tea – nothing but the best, served piping HOT. Feel free to DM me suggestions for improvement or if you’d like to contribute too. I do not sell notes or essays (except textbooks). Hit me up if you’re looking for any books. I am a textbook hoarder, and I treat all my books with care, love, and respect. I also annotate the books that I read, and you know what that means! Get my thoughts in the palm of your hand… for a marginal fee!

As of July 2020, this list is not complete and will continue to be updated as I finish my final year (AY20/21). All links open in new tabs.

modern mediocrity

These days a string of conversation I had keeps making its rounds in my head. It winds itself in and out of my awareness, lodging itself in between as it sees fit.

I was speaking to someone I know. He’s enrolled in a prestigious university overseas, pursuing a degree of the future. At that point, he was reflecting on his time there. I don’t remember the specifics, so a lot of liberty has been taken with the exact words exchanged, but the essence is accurate.

Him: … Like you know, it’s not easy. I struggle to keep up with the material sometimes, and projects can be challenging.

My intuition told me he wasn’t being upfront about something, so I probed. Maybe I just wanted to know. There are one too many maybes in this world.

Me: So, how well are you doing among your cohort?

I knew he would’ve delicately sidestepped the entire topic if I didn’t ask – the Asian norm of humility is pervasive. No one asks about a peer’s ranking without expecting to be either humbled or skewered for it. In this case, my question was merely a confirmation.

He looked at me, eyes sharp.

Him: … I’m first.

Then his gaze darted downwards, almost bashfully.

Something about that exchange got to me. It might have been his discomfort. It might have been my own sudden sense of alienation. Either way, that something etched its way into my consciousness, burrowing itself deep in my self-doubt, where it lingers. And the blood from those wounds seep into my thoughts ever so delicately.

Maybe it’s envy.

Have you ever sat in a room and realised you were scraping the bottom of the barrel? I had that experience recently. It shook me to my core: I wasn’t ready to stand face to face with my insignificance and ignorance relative to a group of people like me, much less in the grand scheme of things.

I was told – and I wanted to believe – that just like that senior from my course who graduated with a perfect 5.0, who was extensively painted in the brushstrokes of a model student, an ideal, that I could be the best too. It was almost as if that such a feat could be possible for anyone who made an equivalent effort. It should be attainable, granted I could make the necessary sacrifices.

I’m surrounded by so many competent people I feel like an impostor. Except it’s a little more than that. It’s more of this nagging sense of impending doom in a form of a train charging towards me at full speed where I’m stranded on the tracks, and its name is The Force of Mediocrity.

Maybe it is mediocrity.

What happens when your best is not good enough?

We are all trying, but in this system there can only be a few who make it. What happens, then, to those who are left behind?