Monday, February 4, 2013


So, a senior of mine who is currently pursuing his PhD Facebook chat me recently and asked me about my other blog which I used to upload notes on the Literary Component for Form 2 to be included in his research.

That's just the intro.

While I was browsing through the pictures in the blog from three years back, I felt a pang of sadness in my heart. Thinking of how I enjoyed teaching in MK which is one of the top three schools in JB during my practical. Thinking of how easy life was compared to now where I have tonnes of responsibilities and people counting on me (or to scream at me if shits don't sort themselves through). Thinking of even though my life at that moment was pretty unstable (my bf for three years broke the news that he had a fiancee and soon to be married and then I quickly jumped into a relationship with an immature young man- 3 years younger than me who knew nothing but to cry) but the stability at school make me sane and continue to be strong until the end of the course of my study.

I might be crazy when I say this but I loved the time during my first degree where all I have to do is wake up and go to class or during practical wake up and went to school to teach only two classes which I could design super awesome lesson plans and brought all sorts of teaching aids to the students to enjoy in the class. Now, with 25 periods with 6 classes to manage from two different levels (PMR and SPM), I'll be lying if I said every lesson taught in class was planned beforehand. Who got time for that if I had to be in charge of SIX secretarial positions (these people chose because I type the minutes of meetings straight away in a laptop while most of the secretaries wrote them down), being a class teacher to a class which I have to pay for every single thing using my own money since there's no way in hell they would contribute their own money to beautify their own fucking class which they occupy everyday all day at school, being the teacher advisor to Pasukan Pandu Puteri and Pasukan Koir (I don't even know the difference between the voice of a human and a whining of a donkey) and not to forget AJK of SIXTEEN bodies.

Don't get me wrong, I love being a teacher. To be able to make kids realize their own potential and the hell they're going to pay if they don't work their asses off at school. But all these unimportant and pretentious stuff that we have to do - not so much. And don't get started on people who lurrrvvveeee to pass their jobs to others to save their own skins. Who pretend not to know simple thing that a goldfish can do in an aquarium just for the sake of not taking up the responsibility and the blame should anything go wrong. When I came to school people ask me to become form teacher and I know zilch about the register but I learned and I coped with it. And they asked me to do relief for teachers on MC or leave, I learned and I sucked it up. So, if you want to give an excuse that you don't know, you can't do it, think before you speak.

During my first year of teaching, they said you should not say NO to any work that they give you so I ended up sacrificing myself. But soon, I learn to say NO and they haven't touched me since. Again, don't get me wrong, in MK I love the working atmosphere where people work together to achieve and maintain success. We (my practical coursemates and I) had no problem going back to the hostel at 5 everyday because we felt the satisfaction of being able to a part of something bigger to contribute to the school. I'm also not afraid to admit I felt a sense of belonging like the way I felt of being a Zainabian (my old secondary school is one of the top schools in Kelantan. It's an all girls school so we took pride of calling ourselves that. They say people can always tell if you're a Zainabian). Here, in my current school, I love most of my students but one or two are complete assholes (yeah, I think it's only fair to call them them since one of the two wrote on a hard cover library book that I'm an asshole and another slashed my tire, BURN IN HELL you two). I never experienced this back in MK or Zainab - there is still an unspoken but widely accepted rule that teachers are ranked nombor three after your mom and dad so you've to respect them and not call them assholes. Immediately, my feeling of hate grew.

And in MK or Zainab, we've never had the problem of kids kissing or molesting others. You are kids for God's sake- don't grow up so soon! But noooooooo.... You feel proud to touch the girls' ass cheeks or dipped your face between their almost non-existent breasts. Pervs.

Yeah, I missed those times back then. But then, when I think of the $kaching$ in the bank coupled with bonuses and PMR and SPM payments for marking papers and the car, the clothes, the shoes and the handbags that I bought with the money, do I still miss those times? A bit, still. But I'm also grateful for the bountiful rewards that Allah SWT has given me and I hope The Almighty will continue to give me the health, strength and wisdom to continue doing what I'm doing!

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