*Taken from Facebook, all rights belongs to its original author, permission has been granted by the original author to re-post this in my blog.
Status Update
By Alina Amir
So
here’s a public confession: After 4 months into teaching, I came back
from a class this morning, put my books on my desk, coolly walked to the
ladies, and broke down; with tears, sobs, frantically fanned myself
with my hands thinking that could help calm me down, the whole
enchilada. Something I have not done for a very long time.
In
the last four months, I could have cried when I had kids calling me a
prostitute in mandarin, or that time when a kid told me I should not
mess with him because his dad is part of the notorious along gangster
crew (which I have never heard of and the phrase “ignorance is bliss”
could not have rung truer), or that time when I was wolf whistled at for
weeks wherever I went, or when a disruptive boy decided get up in the
middle of my lesson, ran around the room and banged every table before
he ran out of the class despite me calling after him and then having him
come back and literally went on the floor, hugging my feet and begged
for my forgiveness the same day, or when I was locked in the school
building and then had to come out through the roof (long story) or when a
big fat rat, literally, decided to chill right in front of my front
door. Those were legit reasons to cry if I wanted to cry. But I didn’t.
Not a single tear rolled down my cheeks. I stood up to my boys, I had
sleepless nights thinking of strategies to get my kids to just sit down
for a single lesson, told every kid who threatened me to bring it on,
went to every boy who wolf whistled and threw inappropriate remarks at
me, looked them straight in the eyes and said, “how dare you”. I have
got nothing to lose and I am sure, as hell is not scared of anybody, no
matter who your daddy is.
This morning however, was different.
In fact, I wasn’t teaching at all this morning. I was in a form 4
class, of which I only teach PJK to the six of the girls every week. So
what was I doing with the entire class? I was invigilating their mid
year exam, Sejarah Kertas 3 to be exact; An open book test where
students are required to write an essay on a topic given. Just as I
finished handing out the exam papers to all 35 students, one boy put his
hand up and asked, “ujian apa hari ni, cikgu?” and I went, “HOW CAN YOU
NOT KNOW WHAT PAPER YOU ARE SITTING FOR ON THE DAY OF THE EXAM AND EVEN
AFTER I HAVE HANDED OUT THE EXAM PAPER” silently in my head. Out loud, I
said, “ujian Sejarah, kertas 3. Ujian ni boleh tengok buku, so
keluarkan lah buku”. Half of the classroom started to rummage through
their bags and looked under their tables for books while the other half
put their heads down and went to sleep. Ten minutes into the exam, they
were all just staring at their books, opened to the first page. I went
to a boy and asked if he knew what he was supposed to do. He shook his
head and continued staring at his book. Another boy looked at me
pleadingly, and asked, “cikgu, macam mana nak buat ni?” No one was
writing anything. No one.
I went to one of the girls and asked
her to read the question and then looked for the answer in the book.
The first question she asked after I told her that was, “bab berapa tu?”
and I could sense the whole class was waiting for me to tell her which
chapter to open to. I knew then, that they have never read a single
thing from their textbook nor have they learned anything in the past
four months of school. Heck, I wouldn’t be going too far if I said they
barely learned anything in the last 10 years of school. At that moment, I
saw their future flashed through my eyes and I wanted to cry.
I wanted to cry because it was unfair for them to be sitting for an
exam that they are clearly not ready for. I wanted to cry because
someone allowed this to happen. I wanted to cry because as I was
explaining to some of the students on how to do the exam and they were
eagerly listening, while I was quietly panicking because I am no way
near being a Sejarah Form 4 teacher. I wanted to cry because I felt
incompetent, wishing I remembered what I learned back in From 4 so that I
can teach them something at that moment. I wanted to cry because it is
not their fault. But most of all, I wanted to cry because I have 200
students and I have classes back to back from 7.30 AM up to 10.00PM
every day that it would be completely impossible to take on new
students. All I could think of was how if only all the educated people
in the country would spend their time teaching these kids, then maybe,
maybe I’d be writing a different story.
I have never actually
done this before; asking people to consider teaching. I believe that
entering into the profession should come out of your own will. I have
never recommended Teach for Malaysia to anyone. In fact, I’d be
all-skeptical to anyone who are actually considering to join TFM. What
are you in for? To have connections with top corporate partners? To meet
CEOs of this and that? To be featured in newspapers, radio, magazines,
online blogs? What are you in for? Is it the tagline? Is it really for
the kids? I’ve been asked these questions before and I personally used
to think that it was a fair concern. It needs to be out there that being
a teacher, through TFM or not, is not even a tad bit glamorous. You
don’t get paid on time, you’d be missing best friends’ weddings, family
gatherings, birthdays etc., you have crazy deadlines and you’ll feel
like crap because you don’t know how you’re doing. Nobody sends you a
“good job” email on that awesome class you just had, or though you had.
Are you sure you want to be a teacher? If you think it is a walk in the
park, be rest assured that it’ll be the ghettoest, most messed up park
you have ever walked in. I used to think that only the strong should be a
teacher. Only those who know that they won’t quit should be a teacher.
Today, I don’t care anymore. Today, I realized how desperate the
country is and beggars, can’t be choosers. If you have gone through the
education system and came out alive, teach. If you have no idea what to
teach, trust me you’ll learn. You’d be surprised to meet kids who have
never been told that cleanliness is a virtue, that rempit is not a legit
career path, that you don’t have to give up at 16.
Listen to
me, drop everything you’re doing and come back to school. Teach them to
be human beings because they need to know that screaming at a lady is
not the way to speak, that not knowing how to read at 13 is not cool,
that cursing at your teachers is rude and to talk back to your mother in
front of everybody at school would get you to every hell of every
single religion in the world. Teach. If you think it’s too hard and
teaching isn’t your thing, then quit. But you can’t quit teaching if you
have not actually tried teaching. My point is, every one should teach.
Decide later if it is something you want to do in the long run. Just
teach. Join TFM, do it the normal route, stop a kid in the middle of the
road and ask him/her to tell you the multiplication table, tell him/her
a random fact about Egypt or aeroplanes, teach them the right
intonation after seeing a question mark, teach.
If you think,
all this doesn’t make sense and it’s just some really long facebook
status/note by a crazy lady who just cried in a high school toilet, then
darling, my dear, you have not taught in a classroom where half of them
can barely read and write and the other half is just lost by this
immense language barrier that no logical inspiring words can get through
them. So teach. I am on my facebook knees.
