Come As You Are

She came and hugged me when I was sitting at my table.

"Teacher, Happy Teacher's Day!"

The hug was long and tight. I giggled.

"Ok, ok Aca...thank you very much!" Still, she hugged me tightly and didn't let go.

"Come on girl...thank you very much. Read your book, revise," I continued giggling. It was already awkward. She was still hugging me. Her head was at my shoulder. She then looked at me.

"Ok teacher, I wanna kiss you." She kissed me on both cheeks. I was stunned.

"Kiss me back, teacher" She smiled. I did kiss her back, on her cheeks. Still giggling, I said thank you, half-stunned but feeling fully happy. She went back to her seat.

She was the brave one.

When everyone was answering the Add Maths paper this morning, the class went deadly silent. All eyes were focusing on the questions. The struggle was obvious. And it was the perfect timing to replay the memories from the back of my head. 

This was the song that brought me into this world. It was Nirvana "Come As You Are" that helped me to gain a place in the course. It was an interview for a twinning programme for TESL. 

I was asked the reason why I wanted to be an English teacher. After all, I was a Science student. I told the interviewer that I love English songs. So they asked me to sing a song.  

I sang half of the song. With my ugly voice. The pitching was everywhere. But I sang.

As simple as that. 

I didn't go impressing them by saying teaching could change anyone's life. I didn't bluff them saying that teaching is a noble profession. I didn't know at that time that teaching could inspire anyone.

I wasn't even prepared for the interview in the first place. All I knew that day, my parents were waiting outside of the room, waiting for us to hit the road back to our hometown. And in front of me, four 'big' people, talking in English, asking questions related to my life.

All I did was answering them from the bottom of my heart.

"What if your students asked you about difficult words that they cannot understand? What should you do?"

"I will ask them to check from Mr Dict," they burst out laughing at my answer. 

Seriously at that time, I didn't realize that Dict sounded really like Dick. But, that was exactly what my form 5 English teacher said to refer to our dictionary. Mr Dict.

While some of them were still laughing, I remember one of them, Puan Rozana (God bless you always) said:

"Come as you are, Noorul. Come as you are into this world of teaching"

And I definitely did it!

You Belong With Me, Taylor Swift!

If you could see that I'm the one who understands you

Been here all along so why can't you see

You belong with me

Standing by waiting at your back door

All this time how could you not know baby

You belong with me

It was rather a tiring day today. 

Fate has spelled that I got to wake up late almost every Wednesday morning, sending everyone on their feet straightaway as soon as I realised I had accidentally dismissed my alarm and had overslept again. Hurriedly, my hubby jumped straight into the bathroom. My small family depended on me in getting up to school and work (yes, you had to agree with me this time, Mr Hubby).

Then, Sofea was quite easy to handle since I lifted her up from the bed and put her on the toilet seat and lifted her again to be put in the bath tub, under the shower. She didn't even have to open her eyes but she still had to brush her teeth though. She would only 'wake up' when I dried her up. So I did all those things so fast to catch up with time.

I put her in her school uniform as swiftly as I can. Once done, she would go down the stairs to have  her breakfast. The maid was already waiting. But the bad news was, her favourite bread went missing so she refused to replace the bread with any other bread available. But I couldn't entertain her today, I just shoved her into the car and then we sped to our destinations.

Oh! I am supposed to be on duty almost every Wednesday, handling the school assembly in English. But fate smiled cheekily on me since I am also late almost every Wednesday too. But luckily today, I managed to take over and dismissed the assembly on time. Phew!

The first class I went to was after the assembly. There was a rude boy who refused to follow my simple orders of getting ready for the exam. When ignored and rudely replied, I said to him very clearly and sternly, with my face made from Hell, and my index finger pointing to his nose level, "Nasib baik kau dijadikan sebagai manusia..." (luckily that you are created as human...) and how I wished I could continue saying: "If you were born as a pig, I would have shot you and roasted you well." But of course, I didn't say that. But the boy got the message anyway and sat down and followed orders. When you don't have enough counselling time, you just need to be a Mafia to have everything under control. Oh shut up! Save your opinion about education and role model. I had to start the exam on time.

Entering the second class for the day was fine. I anticipated that the boys would be noisy and non-cooperative. Yes they were. But they have been with me for quite some time now. I have known some of them for years. They too, know me a bit too well. So, when the roughest boy stood up in the middle of the exam to annoy his friends, I just knew what to do and he just followed the orders 'obediently'. The exam went smooth.

The last class for the day spelled disaster for me.

They were already answering their exam papers when I went into the class. Most of the heads were on the table. Some hopefuls were struggling with their answers. I settled down, sitting at the very back of the class so I could watch them over. I took out my red pen to mark my students' exam papers. But I saw my BB was blinking. A message.

"Why didn't you answer me?" My superior asked me through the message.

I typed the reason for keeping quiet. For the late reply. I apologised, of course. It was unintentional. I replied in lengthy. I pressed the send button. My BB went dead. Great! I took a deep breath. I hate this!

I tried to initialise the phone again. Failed. I tried again. It was successful the second time but I already got the second message. I think she went impatient with me already. I was warned for my inability to answer to her. 

"What is wrong with you?"

"Nothing," I answered. 

The phone went dead again. Oh, I was as dead as the phone. That short reply must have sounded rude and ignorant. My couldn't-care-less attitude shown. But that wasn't my intention. Really.

Then, there were voices of my students. One of them had gone out of the class in the middle of the exam. Oh great! Thank God for such a lovely Wednesday. After 20 long minutes, the boy came back to class. Smiling. Feeling proud. I smiled back. There was no use of getting angry to this boy. He was a gone case. At least he came back safe to class and was still alive. And he didn't bring back any corpse with him too. No dagger. No blood. No dagger with blood. Okay, everything was fine.

When the school bell finally rang, I went to a shopping mall, had my clothes changed, back into my car and played my guitar. I felt terribly tired today. And when the time was up for the next music lesson, my teacher asked me whether or not I was fine. Of course I said yes. (Oh, someone did finally ask me about how my day was!)

He checked last week's assignment on plucking and then he taught me some basic strumming. But I was quite too fast on catching up with the strumming, so he crammed three lessons into one. Then he gave me a new assignment for the week.

"Do you know You Belong With Me by Taylor Swift?" He asked cheerfully.

"Oh. Swift? No." I smiled meekly.

Actually, I know Swift's songs but that No was that... I just didn't want to rush. To move swiftly again? I think I need to slow down. 

The Same Old Stories

She's been on my mind for quite some time now.

Whenever I have the time to speak to her during class, I will ask her a few questions. The same old stories.

But a whole lot of understanding towards the definition of struggle, happiness and sadness. I used to think that it is just impossible to live a life like what she's been living now. But she's the living proof. At least she is one of the many people who share the same fate as hers.

It all started when I noticed her staying in class with some rations to eat during recess. I asked her to go to the canteen to join other kids having their break. She politely refused. Between her smiles and silent giggles, she admitted of frequently bringing food from home to munch. And that is if she has something to bring. Always, there are some bread and plain water. 

So the conversation stopped there.

And it soon continued when I got to know her more. She is an orphan. The mother is unemployed as she is also unwell, receiving small funds from the government to feed all mouths in the house. Only few hundreds Ringgit Malaysia monthly for 5 members staying in the house in the middle of the country's capital city. They have nowhere else to go but staying put in this big city as the house is theirs.

That house is their only possession. Apart from having each other as a family. They survive. Happily so far.

I know she is not the only one. She isn't the worst. 

There are many others who come from broken homes, where there is no food at all on the table. Don't mention of having decent meals, even some bites are impossible. Let alone having some pocket money to spend. Some of them find ways to cover for the hunger by going to the canteen and "share" others' food by hook or by crook. They would normally ask, when ignored or denied, they would snatch the food from their friends' plates. They are normally boys.

Try to put your hungry kids at a table for a couple of hours and ask them to read and concentrate. Ask them to respond. Ask them to communicate, give ideas and find answers. If I were one of the kids, I would have fainted first, then, got up again and puked. I might vomit on the books, on my friends' heads and also on the teacher's feet. For all I know, it is quite impossible to study when you are damn hungry.

"Mummy, when are we going for the holidays?"

"There are many others who cannot even make it to the canteen today, you know?"

"Hah? What is that? What are you talking about, mummy?"

"Oh Sofea..."

Love Stories

I revised some language items with my students yesterday.

A single period lesson. The shortest one ever. It was short because we had great fun, cracking jokes and making fun of the newly-found lovebirds in my class.

Other students were rather excited, making naughty sounds when the couple was teased. The kids were so alive. They could even understand the examples illustrated easily when it came to talking about love and some sort of 'forbidden' adult topics.

But, hey, there was no pornographic description whatsoever. No. I didn't go there. Not in a million years with these kids. Not with any kid at all, anyway.

I think these kids are very lucky. A whole lot luckier than me, at least.

Not because they have such a cool English teacher, who at times goes berserk, destructively frenzied and deranged over their stupidity and laziness. And also, not because due to the fact that the English teacher is a gorgeous looking lady (but yeah...with some bumps here and there to hide, I admit the weekly weight-putting anyway...haha).

But because, these kids nowadays can openly share their newly-found love with their teachers. And these teachers, I believe, are rather supportive of them. Unlike during my school days, whoever was in a relationship should go undercover. No coupling was allowed.

No meeting. No dating. Oh, did you mention kissing? That was a big NO! 

The reason?

I think they were scared that this kind of relationship would be an agent of destruction rather than a catalyst of improvement. To us. To our education. To our morale and morality.

But I believe, now that I realize, the more we forbid the kids from doing something they love, the more will they try to put their effort in proving us wrong. They will find ways to glorify their love. 

When openly is forbidden, they will do it secretly. When they think they have no place to share their love stories, they will go so far away, being lost in their new world, just for the sake of wanting to tell the world about their feelings. 

"Are you okay with this coupling thing, teacher?" This one special boy asked me.

"Oh why not? When you have finally found a girl of your dream, love her. Give her your attention. Give her some gifts to show you care. But, respect the boundaries."

"The boundaries? What boundaries?"

"No meeting. No dating. Hah...stop imagining of kissing and touching her!"

"What?! Oh man!"

Till Deaths Do Us Part

I've been bugged down by this viral fever for 4 days now. Each day successfully passed by ignoring the pain, the temperature that shot high once in a while, especially at night. My dearest husband was caught by the annoying virus first, at his office, maybe through his boss, if my recollection is correct. He tried to fight the fever too, only surrendered when I suggested him for a check up at a clinic near our house. The night trip to the clinic as I remember, wasn't that long but the clinic was fully packed, with kids and adults.

"Everyone is sick, everyday. Every single day." I told my 5B students. This is my class, I am their form teacher. I've been handling them since last year. So I know them by heart now. I know their antics, I know their parents' antics too. I know their strengths, as much as I know their weaknesses, although they wish I do not know them too much, fearing that I would use any information about them against them. I was particularly pissed off that day when two boys kept disappearing from school and used health as their excuses. Frankly, one was saying he had migraine every alternate day and the other one had problems with his toe. One particular toe. Excuses. 

"You just need to find ways to stay healthy. When you are sick, cure the sickness so that you can be well again. Or if you refuse to be cured, ignore the pain and face the world as if you are well, the healthiest person on earth. Either way, think first before you skip your school."

I think I said that to the class. My class attendance was quite ugly for February with these kids ignoring excuse letters from parents and no MC whatsoever when they were absent. I told them that with a pinch of seriousness on my face, hopefully they would get the message. I hope they did.

As I type this, I have the option to go to the clinic and ask for a medical leave. I am unwell. But, thinking of the kids at school, the long awaiting list of undone work, and of course, thinking of the people I promise of working together tomorrow, I shall set aside the pain. The pain can be ignored again at the moment.

My bluebird of happiness is sick too. She is going to skip school. The difference between this bird and those two boys is vast. First, she is 6. The boys are 17. My bird still has a long way to go. The boys are going to finish their schooling soon. And this bird does not know how to lie yet. She is ill, we went to a specialist and the specialist asked her to rest. The boys? I am yet to see their approval of absenteeism.

Please boys,

My dearest boys.

I love you like my own brothers.

I know your potential, but the potential is denied by the masters who are simply lazy.

Come to school.

Everyday.

When you are well.

Coz when I am slightly unwell, I will still come to school.

Hoping that only deaths do us part.