FIRDAUS

So today is the 111/9 English paper. All those night classes, staying back after school until 6 in the late afternoon and running and catching students to get into morning classes finally ended today.

While I was at PKG Cherang Ruku, attending the meeting for PMR paper marking, one of the teachers at my school called me to ask a strange question. Apparently, one of the students from my 5MPV class was still not present at 8.10 a.m. albeit English 1119/1 (essay writing) had begun at 8 a.m.

The strange question was “Is this kid a student who always fail in the English paper (for monthly tests) or is he one of the targeted passing students?”

What made me wonder is why that question is asked?

Is there some sort of double standard between the Target A students and failing students?

Hell yeah, there is!

If the student who was late this morning is one of the Target A students, betcha not one, two or three teachers would be scrambling away to call the students, the parents or even to the extent of getting the home address and fetching the student to the school and lay out the red carpet for that student to walk on.

But since this is one of the MPV students, nobody gives a shit. At least the shit given was not much.

I must admit that there are some kids that I just want to spit on their faces. Or maybe karate chop on their heads.

But again, these students deserve equal opportunity at being successful. Getting out of where they have been stuck in for like the rest of their life. SPM is it.

It’s a ticket to a world that is just waiting to be explored.

What would it make us if we differentiate students based on how many marks they get in the exam. Sure, I get pissed at those shit heads who won’t just quit talking when I am straining every inch of my limited vocal range, explaining stuff in the classroom. But to deny these kids the chance to sit in the exam? That is just plain evil. And wrong.

I’m not the most morale person you would ever have the chance to meet, but then again as bad as I am, there is still compassion and humanity left in me. Or maybe I’m just over-thinking and over-analyzing that question. Maybe the teacher who called me did not intent what I was thinking of at that point of time.

Well, back to the late kid. It turned out his motorcycle ran out of gas and he had to walk the bike all the way to the petrol station and that took him 50 minutes. He arrived at 9 a.m. and only had 45 minutes to answer two essay questions. I heard his eyes were watery due to what happen. What pained me was he’s a good kid. Quiet and never disrespect me as his English teacher. So, if it were some shithead, I will not feel anything? I would still feel something but I would also think that it was God’s retribution for him. But in this late kid’s case, I guess it was just God’s way of testing him. May he will be rewarded handsomely for his patience and perseverance. Still coming to school despite being tired after walking the bike for 50 minutes.

I’m not going to talk about his parents, why they did not do something to prevent that misfortune from happening. I guess they got a good goddamn reason for letting their son who is an SPM candidate to drag that motorcycle all the way to the petrol station. They must have their own excuse for letting that kind of incident happening.

The bottom line is, sometimes, bad things happen to good people. Hopefully, in around 5 months time, he will be receiving a very good reward for what he had to endure today.

NOSEBLEED

I had a nosebleed today.

Blame it on working 12 hours straight, discussing PMR papers and judging how many marks should be allocated for each script like Paula, Simon and Randy (that’s the last American Idol season that I watched so I have no inkling as to who are the new judges now, plus I don’t have Astro at home).

 When I told my mom who was intently watching this Malay bullshit drama on Tv3, she said “Panas kepala la tu.” And continue watching the stupid ass actors and actresses in this unbelievable and plastic storyline of a drama. Mom, I never had a nosebleed before! This shit it serious!

Before I got back home, I made a detour to my course mate’s house. She got the note from last class which I escaped and got home early because the lecturer was as interesting as watching a rock. It’s better I taught English to some hormonal i-don’t-give-a-shit-about-my-future kids who sat for SPM, starting today. English 111/9 paper is tomorrow. I prayed to God they would remember to replace the pronoun properly for the reading comprehension as well as the essay writing. Just don’t let them fail and ruin their chances of getting out of where they are now and venture into the outside world.

When I got to my course mate’s house, she told me that us, young teachers have to go to a school on Thursday for some sort of gathering. Failure to do so will result in getting disciplinary act. Since when teaching and learning involve supporting political parties and action can be taken to reprimand those who fail to show up because they got million other things to do at school on the last day. For instance, closing the class register, checking the stock for next year supply of Nilam record books, completing the teaching record book, getting signature to certify tasks completed, passing up important forms and million other things to do like what I said earlier. Seriously, if they want to get the support of us, young people who made up the majority of the votes, they should not hace forced us to go and pretend like we enjoy being there. Because the truth is, we don’t. Not one bit. How can my showing up there, imply that I’m loyal to the country and patriotic enough to leave my designated day job to waste time just to satisfy the statistics needed to make it look like that particular party has so many support in the state they are dying to take over again?

Don’t get me wrong. I still don’t like the ruling party now. There’s nothing being done after more than 20 years they are in office (and it’s likely that they will rule for the next 5 years if coercion remains the modus operandi of the other party to gain support). If my parents weren’t permanently staying here, I would have moved somewhere else. Moreover, I was schooled in a public institution, was a government scholar and now a government servant. It’ll be pretty dang stupid and ignorant if support none other than our Malaysian government. In addition, in my humble opinion,  other people who took the RM500 and RM100 for every kid they got in school, plus KWAPM and Ekasih and all sorts of other financial help are indeed morons who are ungrateful enough to bite the hands that feed them by supporting another party that brings nothing to the state they are governing.

Sorry for my foul language but indeed, some people need a giant hammer to knock on their heads to wake them up.

Nevertheless, any event this big should take into account the majority and their troubles to be present. We’re not complaining but as least have some compassion and show some understanding to our predicament. It’s not that we don’t care, but patriotism and being grateful can be shown in a lot other ways. In fact, at times, for people who don’t wear their hearts on their sleeves, these notions of loyalty and gratefulness are shown only through their hard work and never ending sacrifices. For instance, giving after class tuition and night class, coming to school on holidays for both administrative and academic-related tasks, sacrificing leisure time to mark PMR and SPM papers, spending your own time and money to go for courses, dirtying your car to send students to and fro for things that sometimes are not even your responsibility but just because you live near the place the students were supposed to go to, people ask you to help them send these kids who don’t even thank you for carrying their bitch-asses there and spending time, even longer than necessary to do unnecessary stuff that would not benefit you professionally nor intellectually. It’s hard when you work with people because people can physically and emotionally hurt you, can answer back to you, can be pains in the ass for you and they can look you in the eye and pretend to be nice while in fact they are botching about you behind your back and lie to your face about it.

I hate my life. I hate my face. I hate my body. I hate seeing myself in the mirror. I hate being born.

OF MUSIC AND CLEAR SKY

The CD that I’m currently listening to Doo-Wops and the Hooligans..

 For those of you, slow poke out there, this is the first album by this hottie with perfect pearls for teeth.

For those slower poke out there, it is an album by Bruno Mars.

At first, I was skeptical to buy the album and listen to this so-called pop thing.

But I was proven wrong. He is talented. A talented producer, writer and most of all, singer.

His music sounds sincere and it shoots straight to the heart. Because he wrote songs about things you and me endure in everyday life; being heartbroken, saying promises to stay with the person you love forever, to sacrifice and hold on through whatever shits that happen or just lounging away doing nothing in your underpants.

I guess that what makes him great. He could sing those songs from the hear because he really meant it. And he worked hard to get what he wanted in the first place.

That, and I always have a thing for guys who could play instruments or have perfect teeth or could croon you to sleep singing "If perfect what you're looking for, then just stay the same."

It's not that I SOFTEN UP but I guess those long, sickening years listening to thundering drums and screaming vocals could make you want to be happy and listen to easy listening and radio friendly songs.

On the other hand, betcha would not hear this guy on your local radio.

I started listening to Marilyn Manson at the lowest point of my life. When everybody ignored me, saying that I was being a suck up to the lecturers at my teachers' training college. There was this super cool guy that was into anything Japanese and when he recommended MM, I almost fell off my seat because I thought he was sort of an Eminem guy because he also loved breakdancing. I love MM because he is poetic in a way. I almost fell off my seat again when my friend who introduced MM to me owned a complete Shakespeare works. Man, I was a dork back then. Back to MM, his songs have double meaning and tell even bigger, more important issues despite the expletives used in those songs. He talked about religion, social strata, politics and censorship. With titles like 'Pretty as a Swastika' and 'Dope Song' and debut album entitled 'Antichrist Superstar', this guy is not the poster boy in every teenage girl's bedroom. Nevertheless, I think listening to MM CDs make even smarter!

The same goes to Atreyu. A bassist coursemate of mine introduced the first Atreyu song ever to me, 'Lipgloss and Black'. Despite the screaming vocal and deafening music, it is a song about a heartbroken guy. How sweet is that? 

MM is a lot alike to SOAD. I first listen to their first album (a cassette, specifically) borrowed from my friend at college. This band are all Armenian American as they have rallied for years and I foresee, for many more years to come to make the American recognized the Armenian genocide tragedy. Kim K is not the only famous Armenian American. These guys have been around even before Kim K's big ass was showed on TV. They talk about drugs, American's prison system, war and so much more. Again, after listening to their songs, I feel smarter! Because I would Google up the issues brought up in their songs. Trust me if you want to be good in English, listen to these kinds of  music. Music with substance.

These guys, I stumbled upon myself. During my first degree time in that God awful teachers' training college, I was always bored out of my mind so before I could buy my own laptop (I saved up for 3 years to buy a laptop and another year to buy a scooter), I hanged around at this cyber cafe near the college. And they have this booklet with music videos and mp3s. You can choose which song you want and burn it into a CD. My very first CD was with Slipknot's music videos in it. My roomate ran for the hill because she thought I worshiped Satan. People are always afraid of what they don't understand. And they are too dumb to ask.

So, I listened to metal and that don't make me a Satan worshiping person or make me deny my true faith. It is just music. But to me, music is life and vice versa. If I had stayed in Seremban, I might have taken up a violin lesson or play the guitar. But here it is so hard to find a decent music school. Maybe after I am finished with my second degree, I would try to find a good music place here to pursue my second passion aside from English.

All in all, you should not judge a person based on his music preference. What sounds good to you might make other people's ears bleed. What bust your ear drums might have help that person from thinking of suicide every day and hating herself. To each his or her own. Deal with it.

SPM IS TOMORROW, Y'ALL!

When I  got out of a Form 2 class for Religious Studies exam, I heard of the students said “yes!!!” as he now could copy his friend’s answers as I was being strict during my period, invigilating the exam. Even at that age, these kids have no respect what so ever to the sanctity of education and they have no idea of the importance of examination. No real-life motivation, nothing to prove by doing well in the examination. Nobody to be proud of their exam results. As for them, exam is nothing but a competition where who can get more marks without reading any single damn thing or without paying any nanoseconds of attention when the teachers are teaching in the classroom.

And now with the implementation of Penilaian Berasaskan Sekolah or PBS, for short, God knows what would happen to these kids. UPSR and PMR will be abolished (UPSR will be no more next year and PMR will be obsolete the year after next). These kids would not experience the pressure to do well in exam. They would not be toughen up, attending school in the morning and going to tuition in the afternoon and extra class in the evening. They would not know how it feels to have very little sleep to cram the whole textbook or notebook within one night to face the exam tomorrow. Most importantly of all, they would not know nor can they taste that bittersweet feeling when victory is finally theirs after a long, hard road leading up to success.

Sure, PBS has its own reasons to be implemented. Policy makers claimed PBS will lessen teachers’ burden and students’ pressure to do well in the examination. Teachers can sit back and relax since the school would not be pressuring them to come to school after class or during the evening or while other people are enjoying school holidays to do Golden Holiday or extra classes or last minute preparation for exam. However, such is not the case. Such is not the reality. Even before PBS is wholly implemented next year, teachers are already complaining about PBS. An average classroom holds 40 students. How can 1 teacher gave a fair and objective assessments to each and every one of these students? What happen if the teacher herself is the mother of one of the kids in the classroom? Wouldn’t that create a conflict of interest? How can a mere mortal be absolutely earnest and honest to award these kids and place them according to their supposedly ability according to bands (Band 1 the lowest and Band 6 the highest)?  And imagine the work burden for teachers who have to key in every mark for every student in the classroom in an online system which is unstable and takes forever to be fully displayed?

Sure, the intention of PBS is good. To value students’ uniqueness and evaluate them on their own terms. Not by a standard performance. However, the truth is far less interesting than the fantasy and romantic notion of being able to cater to each student based on his or her performance. In Japan, or in the UK or the US, the average students per class is much lower than the students in Malaysian classroom? When we are trying to be fair to students, we are indirectly depriving them of valuable lessons to be learned from striving hard to do well in exam. Don’t judge me like a dork, I hate exam myself. Who likes exam? That person must have some brain damage if he likes pressure intentionally. Nevertheless, exam is one of the ways to make us tougher. To make us endure and appreciate delayed gratification. To teach us to be responsible for our own mistakes and to make us learn not to repeat those mistakes ever again.

Sure, exam is hard. Life is hard. Not every question that you imagine would come out in the exam. Not every topic discussed in the classroom would come out in the exam and students can graciously answer every single point according to the sequence which it was discussed in the classroom. exam teach us spontaneity is a surprise element. The same goes to life. Not everything that we plan will go accordingly. Sometimes, we are faced with problems so big that you could not even breathe to get out of the problem. The same situation during Add-Maths exam where you are given the formula but for the love of God, you have no fucking idea how to solve the equation. Or how about during Chemistry exam where you are given the Periodic Table, but for the love of God, you don’t have the slightest idea how to solve the chemical equation? Exam taught us to face problems as it hits us in the face. We learn to be thick-skinned through all the disappointment, failures after failures in the exam. Even from my own experience, if I didn’t enrol in Science Stream class, I would not know how it felt like hitting rock bottom, making countless attempts and still failed because I don’t have a fucking clue what the hell I was studying for.

Sure, everybody hates exam. Exam is evil. Exam is the source of pain and sorrow. But some people don’t need a hammer on the head to wake them up. They need a frigging machete to split their head in two so that they would wake up and realize life is no fairytale. By studying, feeling frustrated, failed, tried, failed again, prayed, being hopeless, failed, never gave up and finally succeed; through all these fruitless attempts after attempts, can we finally taste the sweet and hard to attain fruit of success. Through exam, we know our limits and how far we can push ourselves. We know how to accept disappointment, how to never give up, how to clench out teeth when people annoy us by calling names like “fail”, “stupid” and other names that are easy to spell but hard to hear. Through exam, we live and we learn to be a better person, to let go when we already tried our very best, to never stop trying (hence the July paper for resilient students who do not wish to be contemplated) and finally to accept compliment when it is due.

Exam has become a part and parcel of the education business. What can we, teachers blabber about aside from doing your best, read the notes given, complete the exercise given and don’t copy or cheat in the exam? I’m going to miss exam. I would probably have nothing to nag about if it weren’t for exam. That’s our ultimate goal. That’s the end of the destination for our torturous journey. What would we look forward to if exam is not there?

P/S: SPM starts tomorrow. All I can say that never stop believing in yourself and never believe that you can’t do something until you try. The day that you truly FAIL is when you stop TRYING!

VICTIM

I'm getting cranky lately.

Blame it on the the lack of holidays from school work, MA class and a foster grandmother who pretends she cannot walk while in fact she is gaining weight from just sitting and sleeping and eating, all the time.

The first two problems, I don't really care much as I get paid for what I do in school (monthly salary) and also for marking PMR and SPM papers. And I don't mind the MA class as I love to study andto prove to myself that I am not stupid.

But the third? Not so much. My mom is adopted, along with another boy. My foster grandmother's nephew. He should be the rightful person to look after her (amidst her lies and feigning sick). Instead, he got a bitch for a wife and he has total amnesia that he never called back home to inquire whether his foster mother a.k.a auntie is dead or alive. He only came back for like half a day during Raya with his children. I cannot wait to see how his children would treat him one day. Even his real mother gave up on him. His father died and buried before he got back home. That's ho much he cared.

So, my parents and I are stuck with this foster grandmother. It used to be my brother when I was studying for my first degree. Now that I'm posted here and staying home, the burden lies on my mother's and my shoulder. She faked stroke 18 months ago and when we sent her to the hospital, doctors could not find nothing wrong with her. She pretended she could not walk but she could wiggle her toes and move her limbs. She said she fell but for an octogenarian, she would have had broken bones because of the fall, but the X-ray showed nothing. She just acted like she could not work so that my mother would be forced to look after her. Since my family came back here from Seremban when I was 12, we never had any family vacation for 14 years because we have to look after her. Her nephew a.k.a my mom's foster brother, got away scot-free. I cannot wait how his chidlren would treat him when he is old. Both him and his wife.

I always think of what could have happened if I had stayed there in Seremban. If my foster grandfather did not die when I was 12 and we would not have to move all the way here to Kota Bharu to look after my foster grandmother because she was too stubborn not to move there with us. My father had to ask for a transfer here to Kota Bharu. Even then, my father and my mother were forced to see each other only during weekends because my father's army camp is in Tanah Merah which is a 2 hour drive, making it impossible for him to go to and fro everyday to work. But my foster grandmother failed to see the kindness and sacrifice that our family had shown to her. I hate her. I hate her because I could still remember my mother cry during Ramadhan as my father was not together with us to break fast. I hate her for making my mother cry when she told my mother that my mother is a 'garbage child' (anak tong sampah). I hate her because despite going to the hospital because of low-blood pressure (for which my mother could faint at any time if she is too tired), my mother has to put up with my foster grandmother's antics each and every single fucking day. I hate her because I know our life would be different if she had not taken my mother from her biological parents (to this day, my foster grandmother refused to tell my mother the whereabouts of her biological parents). From the bottom of my heart, I hate her with every single vein in my body.

I never tell anybody this stories before. I put it up here because I know nobody is reading and if they read it, they would not comment on it anyway. I blogged about it here because I'm getting sick and tired when people talk about filial piety and how we should take care of the elderly. During Raya and stuff, there'll be news report or special programme where fake ass celebrity would go to old folks' home and feed them and comb their hair and given them 'duit raya' and what not. And they would blast the children for not taking care of their own parents. I agree that some children should not have been born as they bring nothing but heartache for their parents (I got scandalous skeletons in my closet too) but some children are only victims in this little tug of war of who would look after these unwanted old folks. When they were small, what did their parents do? Did their parents look after them when they were children? Or did their parents abandoned them? It is not fair to hear only one side of the story and it is not fair to make judgements of the children if we do not know the history of the old folks and how they treated their kids when they were young.

I'm unfortunate that my real paternal grandparents (whom I know for my parents' stories) died before I could get to know them. If not, they would spoil me, I'm sure. My foster grandfather were a kind man and my mother has fond memories of him. I could still remember him buying me two ice creams instead of one even though I had a cold. I remember him as a soft-spoken person who never rose his voice to others. He was also fond of animals like goats and took care of the goats really well that from the sound of his motorcycle returning home from his work, his goats would come running to see him.

It seems good people, die early. If that is the case, I would have a long way to go and more sins to commit.