The Port of No Return

Can you believe it? The university-hunting season is over. Well, sort of. (And to my brave friends undergoing the appeals process and really going after what you want, I salute you all. Press on – it'll all be over soon *hug*)

So it's generally over or at least, we're all that much closer to knowing where we're going to go. On my part, I had earlier this year thought that June 1 would mark the beginning of the break before the university begins because from last Christmas until the present, life has mainly been a messy mix of work and applications and e-mails and phone calls and interviews and trying to make ends meet. I'd long decided to forget anything that happened before today.

But as I look back at the past six months, I think this season of my life has been one of the most challenging and yet, necessary part of my pre-university education. The memories are too fresh to analyse them here without the cloud of emotions and without appearing arrogant or foolish – though I truly do not mean to be - so I shall desist. What I can share is that I finally saw so many fatal flaws in my character and yet found great reserves of patience, calm and love both in myself and greater even in those I have placed my trust in. We can't fix a problem if we don't know what it is and I'm happy that I know exactly where to work on me. If only for this lesson, I am thankful for how time has passed.

My favourite part, though, was finally getting to test all my theories in school about how I would act or think or be in the sort of “real” world. We prove our quality in times of testing; I wanted to see if the fire would burn me.

The story isn't over yet and the twist is that I've decided to go on a gap year :) I wouldn't really say it's just starting now though because what has happened is just as part of the gap year as what's to come – and I really never thought not being in school for a year is something I would actually consider. I'm excited though to go to new places and read and write and just be and recharge in time for university next year.

For now though, I'm just looking forward to another two months in Singapore working with students, paying my debts to myself (a complicated thing to elaborate on so nevermind :P), meeting up with Roomie, Captain Jack, and Joy and bothering my lovely new roomie-who-has-yet-to-be-given-a-blog-name. After that is the great year away from this place I've come to call home and I'm not sure how that ship's going to sail yet.

I wouldn't say this journey's ending because, honestly, we're barely at the beginning. Strangely enough, that's a comforting thought.

Capture

That feeling when you see a Youtube video where the crowd sings along with the performer or you see everyone in the room tearful when someone goes up for their Oscar’s acceptance speech or when you watch people giddily queue up for the newest copies of a book’s sequel.

You want that - not to be recognised on the street or paid tonnes of royalties or treated special, but to know that what you’ve put on the table resonated so deeply with everyone else in the room; You want to know that what you made captures part of what it means to be human.

To the People Who Keep Asking About Uni

My golly, can't you stop asking me? What uni are you going to? Which scholarship did you get? What's your major? Did you get accepted for this programme? Why aren't you taking this offer or that offer or isn't this offer better or more prestigious or more comprehensive? 

Now, can everyone just take a moment to stop and think about this whole admissions process.

Because honestly, what's it to you? Have we spoken about anything else in the past few months? Years? And once you hear the specific university or scholarship and give the required congratulations, will you ask how I feel or why I made that decision? Will you stay to hear the challenging course of events that led up to me saying, “Yes, I am going here”?

I doubt it.

 And why ask me about specific schools so forthrightly when I have not even told you anything? I mean, how untactful is that? Don't you think I'll feel like my privacy was invaded if you know all sorts of things about me that I haven't talked to you about?

Really, people, think  Let's all just take a moment to bloody think.

I took great care in asking only my closest friends how their university applications were going for the past few months and only out of concern for the stress they may have been feeling because as we all know, there is so much emotion and change and prayer attached to these decisions. I mean there are people out there who won't get what they wanted, which we did, and will feel more hurt or jealous. There will be people out there who will get what we wanted and didn't get, and will feel guilty about their achievement. It is not our job to judge whether their reactions are wrong or right, but as their friends, can we please not hurt people more than they've already been?

 In the midst of your celebration or self-pity, did you think about that?

 Are our lives so completely intertwined with the internet that we are incapable of thinking before posting on Facebook? If we're deliberating between options, why do we need to post it on our walls? Think. People well-meaning or not might tell us all sorts of things because as we've just noted, people are careless with what they post. How about directly messaging the people who we should really be asking counsel from like our family, teachers we trust, and close friends whose advice we really value? Just because we're Facebook friends with someone doesn't mean we should let just anyone speak into our lives.

 Now time and experience have taught me that my heart is not cut out for reprimanding, but there are moments where we need to stand up and say something because no one else is trying.  Thus, this is my uncool and probably unwanted advice: if, any juniors out there see this, don't copy what you see the J3's and Year 7's doing, posting about what unis or scholarships they're deciding on or didn't get.

 Don't be inconsiderate. Grow up. And seriously, just think.

Peace and Mirrors

My senior recently posted photos of when we were in secondary school and it got me thinking about  looks.  Until yesterday, I thought of my preteen to early high school days as my lost years since my family and I unwittingly kept no pictures from those years.  My senior's were the first I've seen of when I was a freshie and a sophomore at Pisay.

The ridiculous outfits were endearing in their mismatched, badly cut state, but they also conveyed to me a little bit of how lost I was back in those days. :)

I remember that I was adamant that brains was more important than beauty when I was little.  In retrospect, my burning desire to prove that an interest in aesthetic things is superficial simply proved how important I found being pretty to be.  Growing up, I knew I wasn't a paragon of beauty and being in a society that valued appearances, I took to the polar extreme of being actively plain and reading incessantly to comfort myself.

The pictures got me thinking too of what has happened since they were taken: the roller coaster of understanding inside what I wanted to express on the outside, the humorous range of hand-me-downs and the odd piece I'd have bought by myself that made its way into my closet and even the climax of last year's tremendous weight loss in a fit of insecurity, fear and the need for control, which brought me to two kilos away from becoming underweight.  I can only thank God and never-ending schoolwork over the years for preventing my mind from becoming truly fixated on appearances.  I am also extremely thankful that He dropped into my life good friends and clear thoughts, both of which got me out of near scrapes with uglier scenarios.

Yet, in the mad rush to provide for the most basic needs of food and roof over my head during the past five months, I think I've simply forgotten that desperation or fixation.  The matter, I suppose, resolved itself when I resolved not to diet or exercise for half a year since late last year and just be.

But, I'll be going back soon to eating well and maybe running and definitely dancing; it's a little bit daunting because there's always that residual fear that I'll take it too far again, but I like to think I grew up and I'm working from a place of contentedness and not jealousy anymore.  And perhaps that is the greatest change between myself and the freshman girl in my senior's pohotos.  The clothes may be equally mismatched and the smile still too wide, but I am at peace now and I think that makes all the difference.

The Most High

“Wake up in the morning with the grind 
for the Most High on our mind, 
constantly being refined 
to be the exact of our Architect’s design. 

Any man who wants our heart will go to Christ 
knowing it’s in His possession. 
Botox, lipo and implants ain’t got nothing on 
what was accomplished on that cross. 

We are women of a different status. 
This world we will impact. 
We are women of a different status. 
31 to be exact.” 

31 to Be Exact 
by Janette…ikz from 31 Status

Waffling

So I'm here to waffle about this scholarship I interned for because the terms were changed post-application with the new factor being that I had to have PR status at least to be eligible and that got me thinking.

The change wasn't made known to the applicants and I, unfortunately, only found out yesterday.  It was made in light of the recent general elections - the implication being that with the anti-foreigner climate, it might be a better idea to limit the scholarship to locals to prevent complaints.  Seeing as my previous PR application was rejected, I highly doubt any succeeding ones will result more favourably until I get a degree and I will thus have to drop this application.

Of course, I know that what I could say in judgment would vastly simplify the situation and that's why I don't find myself angered as I consider it.  The political arena is a tricky place to fight and I have every bit of sympathy for those who make their homes there.  With it being so complex, my satisfaction is only a tiny consideration among many for those in-charge, I'm sure.

It frightens me, though, when an institution that should stand for the molding of the future and protection of values such as integrity and equality would bow to the irrationality of the majority.  Should I then stay in a situation where I am not sure if my merit or labour would ever be considered above the country I come from?  I don't enjoy it when people make fun of my accent or my people - the irony being that I identified myself as Chinese until I moved overseas and everyone made sure I knew I had a Philippine passport - because it feels like whatever I've done or not done, what I believe in, and what I want to do with my life is swept under the rug once the topic of my race or nationality comes up.

However, by the same situation, I am doubly motivated to stay.  Isn't there all the more reason to teach students that other people's countries of birth have nothing to do with how much we respect them?  It never ceases to amaze me that one argument against foreign students is that they usurp the top spots of the local students.  If a really smart kid from overseas had entered my school back home, I would have seen them simply as a worthy competitor.  I know myself then and that little freshman would not have taken race or nationality into the equation.  Why should I resent him for his intellect or gifts just because he or she isn't Filipino or Chinese or some other race?

So many local students have blessed me with their friendship.  It saddens me, thus, when I stumble across other students or adults who find my nationality a hindrance to acceptance - like this taxi driver who thought I was local and began bashing foreigners as corrupted, selfish thieves who shouldn't be given a shot at studying in Singapore, but hey, that's a story for another day.

But truly, all the more I am motivated to open the eyes of my students to the possibility that not all Filipinos are maids.  There shouldn't even be judgment against maids just because they're domestic helpers because honestly, honest labour is honourable labour, but that's a story for another post.

I am divided too right now by the idea of posting this point as on one hand, here is an opinion I want to express and on the other, I value the heavy censorship and ownership I take over my online writings.  I know someone might take offense or misunderstand me, but I think I'll take a page out of my more daring schoolmates' books this time and wing it.

Anyway, tomorrow's - or rather, later today - is the big call from the-school-that-must-not-be-named.  If aid won't work out for there, then I shall be shipping myself off instead to the-other-school-that-must-not-be-named.  In any case, all the confusion of the past few months might just be coming to an end and that's equally scary and exciting to waffle about.

Lord, hold me.

Brighter Days

I had this long post set for May 1 about university admissions as I saw and experienced it all scribbled out in one of my notebooks, but time was not on my side and the steam that fueled that post has fizzled in the process of moving (houses and) with time.

I suppose I shall post about that in greater depth another day, partially for closure, but most definitely to share my story just in case it helps someone, just as I have been helped in the past few months by friends who gave me, I do believe, far more than what society thinks friends should.

To the curious, I still haven't decided on which local university to go to as the waiting game for various papers with determining factors continues - and that's okay with me.  If there's one thing I've learned in this season, if something is meant for me, God will move my mountains.  If it's not, He will calm my storms.

You see, one thing I asked for once, earlier in this process, was a heart that would stay untouched by the bitterness that rejection or failure or lack would usually inject.  My heart may not have stayed untouched, but it definitely is not bitter.  I may have been exhausted by the autumn rains and the deepening snow, but spring is coming soon.

There are still brighter days ahead.

People on People

Today, I sat through an hour of gossip and found myself distinctly uncomfortable.  I didn't sense why for a while until I had time to reflect on the train ride away when I realised that it's for two simple reasons.  First, I didn't recognise it as gossip and thus didn't know what I was being uncomfortable about (Can anyone say blur? Blur. There, I said it. :D) and second, because I have been blessed by a small, but tightly knit circle of friends who simply do not discuss people.  Or if we do, it's always in this joking, good-humoured or admiring manner, which I'm comfortable with.

I really don't mean to sound condescending, though I suppose this post could come across that way.  I'm not saying people who gossip are good or bad people or that people who gossip once always do so - who am I to judge others for their righteousness?  I'm just saying that I don't get why people talk about other people because it's not fun.  And because I was sleepy enough to have nothing in my head, I was also tired enough to shut up for most of the conversation.  Thank God for keeping me from saying something stupid small mercies.

A fool utters all his mind: but a wise man keeps it in till afterwards.
(Proverbs 29:11)

What He said.

Like a Hopeful Slug

So after a sedentary lifestyle for the past month - not by choice, really - I shall hopefully be back to work next week.  Well, it's a part-time affair, which hopefully leaves me with time to visit friends and read books and you know, live a little closer to what I'd wanted to do in my time here.

(Which is not to say that the past month has been horrid. It hasn't and I think that as I move to my next place, I'll miss the life and home created here, but that's a story for another day.)

About the sedentary lifestyle, it's not cool.  I mean, yes, working at home is fantastically fun, but when the time spent on work exceeds well, everything else, it's like IB again only without the cool friends or lovely bus rides or actual moving.  I need to get this fat ass off the bed and walking.

For example, walking to lunch :D

Too Many Sunsets

“Something’s gotta gotta give
coz I can’t keep waiting to live.”

Many the Miles (Houseboat Performance)
Sara Bareilles

It's been ages since Roomie and I listened to this song.  We had this silly plan to perform this and Jason Mraz's The Remedy for prom, but things were busier then than we thought so we didn't get to.  Funny, because I just realised right now that the songs share some things.  Slow, I know.

I'm not quite saddened yet about me and Roomie officially living apart starting Monday for the first time in uh... four years, but I think my sub-conscious is getting ready by bringing this gem up again. (Mmm, if we're not room mates anymore, should I rename Roomie?)

Good song, good memories :)

Stoplights

I've been meaning to blog for a while, but with the days melding into one as I cook the same breakfast daily, write notes for tuition centres with Captain Jack, eat dinners with Roomie, and wait for replies to all my emails and queries, I'm afraid I have nothing much to say - except that I look forward to the day when all this has passed and life is set back in the routine of school.

It's not really possible to be certain of things in the working world, I think, because no one seems to want to give way and be certain about things.  It's advantageous, apparently, to be vague because it gives you some sort of upper hand.  I think it's underhanded and silly.  Basic Economics can tell you that misinformation or lack of communication leads to inefficiency in the economy.  That's from like a secular point of view already.  I won't even go into fairness and compassion.

(The more I see the real world, the more I want to hide in a school and teach and never have to face how ugly people can be.  But I know that's not the right mindset and heart to carry and it will take me time to deal with that, I guess.)

If things work as I hope for them to - and I hope God hopes for them too - then I'll be in the Philippines for a year and that will be a whole new adventure. :)

Here's to waiting :)

The Desert

Do not harden your hearts as you did in the rebellion,
during the time of testing in the desert. 
(Hebrews 3:8)

So I have another test of sorts tomorrow and as we all know, anything can happen.  (You know, the interesting thing about tests in real life is that they're never labelled as such. Just saying.) I can get rejected again. Or not. Or not quite. Or some combination thereof.  The ways adults can twist and turn things unnecessarily amazes me all the time, but of course, the ability to do that could just be part of human nature.

Putting the interview tomorrow in context, the past few months have been a season of not-quite-rejection and not-quite-acceptance- neither exactly in the way most people would imagine.  I'm not talking about university admissions in the literal accepted/rejected sense, but instead random odds and ends that have filled my life for the past few months.  Given the precedents, I should be daunted by tomorrow's challenge, but I find that I am blessed to not be so.

Reflecting on this season, I have yet to fully distill what I am to have learned from this time, but I do know that it is important that I pass through it.  I am also so very grateful that God has been lovingly gracious.  I know I say it too often, but how else can I put it?  God has been gracious enough to gift my heart with freedom from bitterness and resentment.  I know who I was just four years ago and the younger me would have been devastated with my circumstances.  There's the odd moment, of course, when I feel like crying or curling up or being miserable, but perhaps this is what they mean by the Hope of Christ that we can boast in.  Tomorrow will always lead somewhere else.  If Coldplay is right and 'every teardrop is a waterfall', then in the rapids of experience, each hurdle is a stepping stone.

Too often I come across people who tell me that staying soft, but fearless in the face of "defeat" is foolish, but I think it's wiser in the long run .  Wiser, at least, than selling your courtesy and chivalry, compassion and creativity for pain relief.  When you've lost all that, you'll have a thick shield against rejection, but nothing worth protecting, isn't it?  There is no rejection worth living - hardening your heart, even - for. There is, also, nothing to be afraid of when acting in faith.

To quote the beautiful Desiderata, 'with all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world.'

Munificence

I wonder often if I should delete this blog because it seems like no one's on the other end, but then I often remember too that I never meant for there to be an audience and it's only through others' kindness that this space has some.

It is funny, I suppose, to really see the human need for interaction and connection. :)

Though really, is there anyone out there?

Congreve

So here goes something -

- sending off a little query to VIP for extra financial aid and hoping that from the bigger picture, a shift in gold is about to occur.

But what if it doesn't happen?  Well, anything can happen really.  Anything can happen.

"We must face tomorrow, whatever it may hold,
with determination, joy, and bravery.” 
Mr. Magorium's Wonder Emporium

There is more than one door into a house, more than one path to the future.  So we breathe deeply and move forward with the day to day difficulties, secure that a greater Artist paints the masterpiece with transcendental clarity.

The universe is unfolding as it should.
Desiderata

Full House

I was thinking today about Easter and today being my little sister's 11th death anniversary and watching LOTR with Captain Jack and Joy yesterday and of all the people who have come and gone in my life and the pack of Uno cards I've been meaning to buy for quite a while and I realised that when I grow up, I don't want a filled house.  I want a full house. 


Pardon the card-y pun.


I guess I just want a place where people will feel welcomed, where the house has more memories than furniture, where God permeates the space.  I want pets and photos on the walls and plush chairs where people can find comfort and a closer sense of how much God loves them - all of us. 


And with that, I bid you Happy Easter :) Blessings to you and yours.

So let hope rise
and darkness tremble
in Your holy light
And every eye will see
Jesus, our God
great and mighty
to be praised.
HS

Plodding Along

So things are petering out as they are wont to and though the outcome is no less uncertain than yesterday with all the different admissions options opening and closing, I am thankful for small wonders like random job offers and the possibility of staying afloat amidst it all.

Soon enough, I might even have time to take that long awaited visit to the Kranji farms and read books in the evenings.  Friday to Saturday's the awaited LOTR night and the next day, we'll be checking my kiddos at Danceworks!.  Much as my brain would rather be getting on with our backlog, this is not too bad a deal either.

Small wonders. :)

Water into Wine

Today's Sunday school message for three to six-year olds:

1. God can do miracles. 
2. God is all powerful. 
3. What matters to you matters to God. 

Their memory verse:

Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine,
according to his power that is at work within us.
Ephesians 3:20 (NIV)

If little children can believe it, I can too.

Jireh

So US university admissions results are out and as I plan for the coming weeks, armed with new information, I am thankful for the past week's slight reprieve, given the three months that preceded it and the increased stress that will now be following it.

If I am to be candid, I am uncertain of where the future leads again and if my DISC profile is anything to go by (high C and slightly less high S), instability is not a good place for me to be.

Yet, I find that the greatest thing that has happened since I let God into my life is that there is always certainty in His love and plans for all of us.  The greatest mercy He has shown me now is not a potentially tricky admission into a dream school, but the merciful gift of a heart guarded by His Word and through experiences that have prepared me so that whatever is the outcome next week, this new story would be part of the same overarching testimony I am blessed to be a witness to.

College gurus advise never to talk about your faith in university essays and I always thought that it's because faith is a tricky  and sensitive topic, but now I've just realised it's because God's good favour can never be summarised in essays with word counts.

God is good all the time. :)

Nothing and Something

So the days pass quickly and I'm not sure entirely of what to post, but that as tiring as the past weeks have been and not entirely what I expected, it was okay and I am content with the place I'm in right now.

 How very vague, Orio.

 Read a wonderful fanfic piece though, and I really want to get back in the saddle and start getting those pieces out, but local university applications have been a bit of a bind. Hopefully, once the dust clears, I'll get that time to read and write :)

 There is something very lovely about having nothing to do sometimes.

Don't Ask Don't Post

I think it's just me and it's not the most politically correct opinion, but whatever -

It irks me when people post their university offers, rejections and the like as their Facebook statuses.  It's about the same when people post their grades, maybe job offers in the future or if someone ever has the gall, a sudden increase in their salary.

It's just.... it feels cheap.

I guess we all set our boundaries for privacy differently.  For the record, if anyone in general asks me, he can go anywhere with his questions really, but I don't do grades, salary, religion or politics if done for the sake of argument, other people and I guess, blow by blow accounts of university results.  Least of all on Facebook. :/

I can't explain it, but it sort of shows a complete inability to separate your social life from your personal life.  It's incredibly insensitive to people who might have been rejected by the same school or several schools - mind you, I have not received acceptance or rejection letters from any of the schools so it's not just me I'm thinking about.


Put simply, it just rubs the wrong way.

Kacheek Kachump

So with the rain making its lovely, dark, and deep, daily appearance and the great job hunt, my week-long holidays hasn't really gone the way I planned it and it appears that it shall be extended for another week.

Strange how we make plans, but they take their own twists and turn.

I guess God really makes all things beautiful in His time.

Now as I have no more applications to write, NEOPETS <3

The joys of never growing up :)

Can We Just Stop and Talk A While?

I wonder often what happens to adults and their listening skills. It's nothing world-changing, more just something I have observed in the past few years.

Oftentimes, when I talk with adults, I think they aren't really listening. You can tell because they reply with something completely unrelated, they pointedly don't respond, or they misunderstand and respond accordingly. I'm not even going into advice yet, because we all know people don't like well-meaning, but unsolicited advice and selective hearing is a powerful skill.

I'm not really sure why it happens. I don't think it's proportional with age or actual hearing ability. Older people sometimes listen more than middle-aged adults, even when they're more hard of hearing. Then again, loads of students don't listen. Children are perpetually scolded for their inability to heed directions or instructions.

Maybe it's a human thing then? I find that thought particularly frightening because with all our present day social media, everyone telling everyone everything, but no one's really listening.

Much less, I think no one's really thinking either.

Off and Away

We're off to great places! We're off and away!

Dr. Seuss rip-off. >_> Boohoo.

Ah, but it's so nice not having a job. (At least, for one week) Of course, there are now more local university application essays to trundle about doing and obligations here and there, but not having to leave the house at 6 am to accommodate school flag-raising is brilliant. The bed is a warm and fuzzy place. *hug bed*

Anyway, it's time to party! (By cleaning the house and visiting museums. Ho hum.) See you guys with my pictures and fatter tummy after a week <3

Running Races

Of all the weeks in this term, this one passed by the fastest. I suppose it's because as the teaching internship wound down, I did not have to prepare slides for future classes since I was already finishing and neither did I have anything to mark as I would not be seeing them.

The reality of me not seeing the students anymore struck me most, I suppose, of all the things that would happen once the internship ended because the AC Barker kiddos have really been the most fascinating part of this experience. Spending more time with the students is like marking essays: you gain real insight into why they say or think what they do and where their misconceptions or opinions come from. Listening more to students also gets me thinking because young people have a lot of questions and sometimes, these questions are really the best ones to be asking.

My kiddos often ask me some variation of, “Why do you bother, Madam?” I suppose they are not used to people being interested in their success, which I find strange, because I would have thought that so many teachers before me might have pushed them much further than I did academically. But for whatever reason, I get tonnes of questions about why I do this or that, why I follow rules or try to implement them even when the boys decide to override me, or why I insist on propriety and respect when these are such outdated ideas – at least, to them.

To be honest, I take being a stickler at a very innate level and so I never really gave it much thought other than because “It's the right thing to do.”, which is probably the most cliché answer for students. Even up to my last day, at the school's cross-country, when I tried to get the boys to follow a certain path that I was assigned to direct them to, they would occasionally just ignore me and one of my best and brightest students asked again, “Why bother, Madam?” as he sauntered away, on the wrong path, to the finishing line.

True, why should I bother? Like when the boys began strolling and griping near my running check-point, I decided to run with sets of students from where my area began to where it ended to encourage them to finish strong the path set before them. Some boys made fun of me, some tried for a while then gave up, and some really ran and sprinted all the way to the end. Why bother then, if I won't always succeed?

As I thought about it, though, I remembered something my grandfather taught me when I was small. Well, smaller than now.. He quoted Desiderata and said that one must never be cynical of love or good things because in the face of all aridity and disenchantment, the message of deep love and light is as perennial as the grass.

I find it saddening, thus, when older teachers or adults tell me that idealism fades with youth because my belief in this message that they downplay as idealism grew with age and I wonder how life has been for them that they would choose to give up on beautiful things. I was a cynical child, no different from my students in doubting why adults bothered or didn't bother, but time and experience has taught me that if we don't stand for our beliefs, we will fall for anything.

I believe in love, in morality, and in excellence and I teach because I want the essence of those to still be present in the future, in a student I might have influenced. This internship has proven to me, more than ever, the importance of us older kids passing on these values to the younger ones who may not learn them from home, society, or their friends.

My part in the cross-country run is parallel to what teachers can do when they teach. These students have run paths before us and will run more after they have met us. Some of them will decide to pick up the pace when they meet us, some will not be changed, and some will improve for a while, but will lose their enthusiasm in studying with time, just like how the boys all ran this single race differently.

My life only touches theirs for a while so I should not judge myself for how spectacular or decidedly not they have become when they leave me, but by the knowledge that I have done my best by them. It has been a fruitful and meaningful term and regardless of how they evaluate my performance, no one can take that away from me :)

To God be the glory, the best is yet to be :)

At Peace

I never had illusions of students behaving ideally or passing up homework. So I find it mildly amusing - also mildly alarming - when I hear new teachers, even trained ones, expecting students to be perfectly behaved and for their perfect lessons to be delivered completely. Experience as a student alone should provide sufficient evidence that that ideal will not come to pass - and if it should, it should be treated as a gift.

I think it is one thing to train students to achieve a certain level of conduct and social etiquette and it is another thing to assume that they will possess it beforehand. The former is noble and the latter, rather foolish.

But, today with the boys acting up and showing utter disinterest was frustrating because I know I have such little time with them and everything I want to share and say must be crammed into one term, which incidentally ends tomorrow. Education, as our lovely IB Economics syllabus shares, takes time to be effective and implementing it never has assured outcomes.

I think I need to remember that it takes a series of people in a person's life to mold that person. I am not the only teacher they have met or will meet. The world is bigger than this classroom.

And with that, I think I can let them go, at peace.

Red Blue Gold

My mentor asked today if I'm excited that next week is my last for the internship and up to now, I'm not quite sure. I guess in part, I'm excited because I've been strangely ill for a while and I look forward to extra time to heal. Looking at the boys, though, I know that there is so much more work to be done on them, which makes me not want to go yet, but then again, I feel that my work with them is done for now.

I shall shoo away analysis paralysis with more thinking. Ahumhum

In other news, I've been looking for a school. I've been wanting to move to a real neighbourhood school and help kids who need help the most, but so far nobody seems to have a vacancy, so I might be going back home to my junior college. It's sort of exciting to think of that.

In light of tomorrow being ACS's 126th Founder's Day, I can't help, but be grateful for the wonderful blessing ACS has been to my life. People can say all sorts of things about the school, yet from housing me for my first two years in Singapore to educating me for my last two to giving me my first job (and possibly, second), ACS has been one of the greatest things I have by some twist of fate, stumbled upon.

ACS: Geared to the times, but anchored to the rock (Y) Life's little mysteries, I suppose ♥

Antacids

So the weeks are getting more challenging and less challenging at the same time - in true school-y fashion. The flu has devolved into hyperacidity that leaves my torso all achy so I'm not sure how much of a devolution it is. The upcoming March holidays will be a long-awaited relief, though, as I do think I need the time to sit still and rest, to run and feel my lungs moving again, to not have things to do and people to be responsible for.

It'll be lovely.

The Day of the Throat Swab

Doctor, I wish you to observe how real and beneficial
faith in Christ is to a man about to die.
Patrick Henry on his deathbed

So I'm sick again and I think it's because I didn't really fully recover from the last flu so I'm working on getting better for good this time. :)

Random new experience this morning was the doctor swabbing my throat.  I think he was rather amused by my horribly hyperactive gag reflex as I almost vomited on him.  He says that influenza cases have been on the rise again this year so the Ministry of Health's been tracking it through throat swabs of patients.  A round of applause for the government's efficiency please *clap clap*

Anyway, I think more than being in pain or the horrible fever earlier, that really stopped me in my tracks as I realised that I could very well have been infectious for the past two days.  The fever and my throbbing head made it hard for me to wrap my head around words so strange questions floated across my mind. What if a new wave of H1N1 or SARS was really back again?  What if it was deadly?  What if I died?

For what it's worth, I  realised today that I am not afraid of dying.  As a child, I would have these moments during late night trips, seated at the back of the car, when the enormity of death and darkness and the pain in the world would weigh down on my heart.  Right now, though, no more.  I think it's an entirely worse prospect that little kids or students or elderly folk I met today or yesterday might contract this horrible, deadly bug.

Well, not exactly deadly and no, I don't think I have whatever the doctor might have been worried about because after a few hours of sleep, some food, and fluids, my high fever's gone and the headache has gone down to a dull throb.

It still was really good food for delirious thought. Speaking of which, thank you for the food, Captain Jack and Roomie.

Surely He has borne our griefs
And carried our sorrows;Yet we esteemed Him stricken,
Smitten by God, and afflicted.
But He was wounded for our transgressions,
He was bruised for our iniquities;
The chastisement for our peace was upon Him,
And by His stripes we are healed.
Isaiah 53: 4-5

Trees and Roses

I'm not a particularly Valentine's Day-y kind of person, but then again frequent readers of this humble blog - I'm taking a big leap of faith here and pretending someone other than my mum stops by okaaay xD - would probably guess I'm not.

I think it's cute and I like the chocolates going around, yet something about today changes my world order.  While I would love chocolates and balloons and flowers any other day, the showiness and the sudden burst of pink and red and love rattle me on this day.  I mean of all the things to represent your love, you have to pick decidedly ephemeral things like flowers that will wilt in two days, balloons that will deflate in a few months, and chocolates that won't make it past the next week.  Assuming your intended has  reserves of self-restraint.

Call it an anxiety attack of sorts.  I guess it's just like seeing a bit of the soul of the world and feeling scared for it.

But some part of me still likes the day and puts hope in the fact that people celebrate love in such an active way once a year. Spotted a couple well into their late fifties with a bouquet that had a Care Bear and found it quite beautiful.  Them, not the bear, guys.

Anyway, in order to still celebrate the holiday, I churned this out :D

(I think if you right click into another window, it'll be large enough to read the text :D)

Happy Valentine’s Day to everyone, especially Joy, Captain Jack, and Roomie.

I stole the poem from Tolkien and the tree from some poor unsuspecting soul on the net and used our good last resort in all things digital art, Paint.

Hope you still like it xD

Padumpadum

I shared "ygUDuh" by e.e. cummings with my kids today and when I finally read it aloud, we had one of those moments when the world stands still for a while and something beautiful comes alive.

I was trying to explain to a little girl today why I enjoyed teaching in the hopes of opening her mind to the many possibilities before her and how studying hard now would put her in a position choice later, and found myself explaining that when the good things about a job outweighed all the bad things about it for her, she would know that it was the right job.

I think it's moments like the one I had today that make teaching worth infinitely more than can be explained. :)

I guess what crosses my mind frequently is that most of the senior teachers must think that I am pretty naïve with my idealistic treatment of students and classes, but I guess that's the job of the young ones – to believe in something silly like treating students with respect, not with a sense of superiority or in teaching students little bits of knowledge outside the scope of the syllabus, even as we wonder this early in their O-Level journey if the boys will finish the syllabus in time. As I discussed with a friend the other day, we create the future we desire through what we teach those who will be in it: our children. Maybe some of the things I say have not stuck and will never stick with them, but I would rather be naïve and keep trying than give up and be without hope.

Here's to seeing what the week ahead has in store. I'm particularly excited about the special ed talk. Padumpadum.

Few Things are Certain

So my dad gave me lots of wonderful pieces of advice before I came back here and as usual, I tried to test them in my mind and see how they worked in the context of who I am and the different identity I have away from home.  I guess it all makes sense in a way, but I felt a disconnect because contrary perhaps to the teenagers my father might have been observing back home or in his youth, I don't feel very "powerful" as he termed I was probably feeling.

In fact, I feel quite powerless.  I haven't really felt powerful for a good four or five years now.  I did not have much control over my O-level results or IB results because some parts were always marked by people and people will always be subjective.  I did not have much control over what place I eventually got to stay at post-IB.  I currently do not know what university I'm going to or if I'll have a scholarship that'll help pay for it since education is impossibly expensive right now.  Because even though I did study my hardest for the exams, was patient in gleaning the best location Roomie and I could get for a decent price, and am going to give utmost for the handful of schools I have chosen to apply to with much forethought, I still do not know how the future was going to turn out when I was or currently am doing those things.

Few things are certain.

No, I don't feel very powerful about my future.  There is much vagueness or doubt as well when faced with people and their manipulations or little lies that they think keep them safe, but make it that much harder to interact.  I have always been one to plan ahead and I can't even fathom how I'm going to eventually maneuver myself into staying somewhere post-university and then eventually into an HDB.  Mortgage is such a daunting word.  I can't fathom having kids either, not for the lack want, but for the sheer cost.  They say it's too much to attempt to help every student I am meeting presently and I know that, but I still don't want to make a big mistake and hurt a child unintentionally like I have seen and experienced many teachers do before.  In all these cases, I am uncertain at present, but I shall continue taking each incident and day at a time because what else can I do?

As Roomie has pointed out, with age, we have become less confident, less sure and less forceful because the world has steadily gotten bigger, bolder, and more demanding than before.  Understandably so, however, and thus, I find myself not complaining.

Few things are certain.

But with God, all things are possible.  I agree, this post is a bit of a downer, but I know we all have these days.  I know that my confidence that still that things will be all right stems from faith alone.

There are better days ahead.  There are always better days ahead.

Nineteen on Ninety

Just because I'm friendly with you doesn't mean we're friends.  Just because I can be polite and will listen to a student doesn't mean I am unable to keep my distance.  Just because I don't scold people first and listen later doesn't mean I'm immature.

I choose to be the way I am with much reason and forethought.  You should respect it because I respect whatever it is that you do, no matter how different we are.

Just a thought.