love, life, school and coffee.

Wednesday, April 26, 2006

Teachers - My Tribute

I returned to St Andrew's JC yesterday, 3 and a half years after graduating. In that period of time, I had only returned a couple of times, but never to meet my ex-teachers. Yesterday was different. Yesterday, I went into SAJC's spanking new campus at Potong Pasir to see the new school and more importantly, to catch up with some old faces.

The school itself was pretty impressive, featuring a nice, brightly lit hall, a running track which looked like it had been hardly used, and even a rock wall! (Go ODAC! Go climbers!) It also sported a nice pink tone. If I was to be picky, I'll say that it's a shame that the classrooms are not air-conditioned, or that the new school lacks the quaint-ness of the old one.

However, this post is not about the school, or the visit. It is about the teachers who, for almost 2 years of their lives, nurtured me and made my JC experience what it is. The point of contact for my trip back to SA was Mr Lim. He taught me GP during my 2nd year in SA. He dresses like a young teacher, what with his Oakley spects, and I'll have to admit that he's young at heart. Mr Lim specially left his ME lesson empty so that us old students were allowed to chat with his current students about how life is in University. For that one period, I shared the front of the classroom with friend D. Mr Lim had once again managed to settle for a win-win situation: he kept us suitably entertained while we were there, and he managed to show his students real-life examples of what a university student faces.

After the lesson, we followed Mr Lim to the staff room where we hunted our other ex-teachers. Unfortunately, my form teacher was not around by then, and neither was my chemistry tutor. My maths tutor forgot my name. Ah well. I wasn't a stellar student to begin with. Mr Lim shared how he loved teaching my class, and that it was one of the special classes which did not fit the "norm" of classes with the same subject combination.

Mr Lim also spoke of how Mr Stanley Ong, my form teacher (or Civics Tutor, as they call it), would sometimes remember our class everytime he has tough times with his subsequent classes. Mr Lim claims that Mr Ong remembers our class pretty fondly. That comment in particular struck me. I had always thought that teachers would forget about the classes they had taught once they receive new students. After all, the new students under their charge should take top priority, right? A few months after having the new students, why would anyone care to remember the old ones? They're not coming back. They're not going to be under you anymore.

So the fact that Mr Lim and Mr Ong still remembered my class left me wondering. How much does teaching take out from you? Does it hurt, seeing each batch graduate? Do they feel a little part of them going away with these kids, after all the time and effort invested in them? What keeps them to this job? (Surely not the bond, right?) What do they get out of it?

As Mr Lim explained that night after dinner, a teacher feels proud seeing his charges do well later on in life. And our mere return that afternoon was something that he had been looking forward to. I guess I could understand slightly. Sitting in front of the class, sharing with these students 4 years my junior, I could already feel the exhileration. Seeing their bright eyes, knowing that they have great potential, not knowing how far they'd go. Is this what keeps these teachers going?

Mr Lim's parting words before he strode off into the relative darkness of the carpark were, "Study hard, but also enjoy life. You need to find this spark that will keep you going. That is how you achieve greatness." Well, Mr Lim, Mr Ong, and all the teachers out there. You guys HAVE ALREADY achieved greatness. -Jimmy

Humour me, Ladies

If only this Fair Lady had a sense of humour...

I pity Mr Teo CHeng Wee. He publishes to the whole world on Valentine's day his desire to date a girl with a sense of humour and he ends up being ribbed endlessly by his collegues. "You won't need sex to entice this fellow, just make him laugh." They said. (Yeah, it's a pretty funny joke... and I guffawed when I saw it. But it sure must hurt him, right?)

I could ponder over this fascination people have over others' love lives. I could say how columns such as his pander to peoples' semi-voyueristic needs. I could even discuss how sometimes, due to the fault of either the writer or the reader, the impact created is far different from the intent. But I'm feeling dangerous. I'd discuss why I also like girls with a sense of humour. (And please, if you wanna comment that I don't need sex to entice me, go ahead. I don't laugh at recycled jokes.)

Mr Teo clarified that ultimately, the girl has to be normal. Meaning, she must not be the type who tortures kittens. Or chihuahuas for that matter. However, the gist of his column was that all other things being normal, sense of humour will be the winning criteria, because a girl that manages to laugh at herself and look at life at a light-hearted way is bound to be a happy girl, and a happy girl is just one of the things in the equation for a happy relationship.

I'll agree with Mr Teo. Of course there are a hundred and one other things that makes a girl attractive, from her physical attributes, to her character and how she lives life. But isn't sense of humour an oh-so-desirable extra? Mr Teo mentioned in his column that while guys always seem to be having a great time making a fool of themselves in the name of humour, the ladies will be sniggering along but never joining in cos it goes against the sweet, demure image ladies are expected to have.

Really? Sure, sweet and demure lie pretty high on my list of desirable qualities, but I think a lady who can get down with the boys and land a perfect punchline adds a tinge of fun to her, and wouldn't we all like to have fun friends? Even better if her punchline is witty and puts some guys down. We're not good at EVERYTHING, boys.

Ultimately, what a guy desires in a girl varies from person to person, but I'm with Mr Teo when he says that he prefers girls with a sense of humour. -Jimmy

Saturday, April 22, 2006

Jimmy's Pressure Release theory

Guess too much ice cream isn't that good...

I'm sure many of you have gone through this before: You put in everything you have into a major test, a hurdle or obstacle in your life. Your whole life revolves around that single goal/objective. You give your best fight, and the objective is conquered. You feel elation, euphoria, the deep sense of accomplishment. You give yourself a pat on the back for a job well done, then you turn to face the future. But what exactly does the future hold? You've been spending so much time focusing on this particular hurdle that you haven't considered what comes after that. You have become blind to everything that is not related to your goal. You feel lost, wandering around without cause.

I wanted to play computer games all day after my exams. Since I had put off serious sessions while doing my studying, it only seemed fair that I should treat myself to some major recreation after the exams. (I did not abstain totally during the study week... just a short game once every two days when the books overwhelmed me.) But somehow, after the dust settled, while I stared at the computer, wanting to treat myself to a great marathon session, a little bit of me still wanted to pick up a textbook to do some reading. It just seemed strange to abandon the books just like that.

I eventually did play a bit on the computer, but it seemed like a waste of time. I did not derive as much pleasure from playing as I had expected. In fact, I felt that studying was more fulfilling. It irks me everytime that happens after an exam. Why? Why did I put this enjoyment off for so long, hoping that it'll taste even sweeter, only to find out that it has instead turned flat? (Thank goodness it hasn't turned sour. It just tastes flat.)

My theory for this sensation is "pressure release". Imagine a rock that was placed under a great amount of pressure from soil which sits on top of it. When the soil is eroded away, the rock no longer has this tremendous pressure and thus expands... However, this rapid expansion is too much for the rock and ultimately weakens it from the inside. The outer layers of the rock flake off due to these weaknesses.

After feeling this "flaking" feeling for a week, I did a mangrove swamp clean-up. (Don't ask me why I cleaned up a mangrove. It just adds length to the story.) Slopping through the mud, walking through spider webs, sweating it out in the humid conditions to pick up rubbish probably wouldn't be one of the things any person would want to do after just completing his exams. However, the whole experience still left me feeling extremely refreshed. Whether it was the closeness to nature, or the fact that my little act *might* make the world a better place, or the sense of accomplishment I derived from the physical exertion, I felt that the clean-up was just what I needed.

You'd think that eating ice-cream would leave you feeling better. So you eat some, and you still don't feel good. So you keep eating and eating, until you've practically finished the tub. And then you realise that instead of feeling better, you feel sick. And yet there are some things that you'd never think will make you feel better that actually does the job pretty well. I'd just like to end off by saying that I hope people will take a break from eating ice-cream some time and appreciate it when something else leaves them feeling good. -Jimmy

Tuesday, April 11, 2006

Collected Musings on a Random Day

The study week and exam week leave very little room for stray thoughts for normal people, but my family thinks I'm weird anyway. So there I was sitting in the school Kopitiam, full and contented. The cleaner shuffles into my line of sight, asks one of the people sitting with me whether she's done with her meal so that he can clear her plate. She nods an assent and he quietly picks up the stray tissue paper, places the empty Coke can on the plate and gives the table a cursory wipe. Something he probably does all day long. The faces change, the colours on the plate change, but his actions remain the same.

I watched the cleaner as he dumped the contents of the plate into the bin, stacks the plate along with the other soiled dishes and goes about looking for the next plate to clear. His face is lined; it is expected as he probably isn't young anymore. The first thing that strikes me is how he seems indifferent about his job. Other fringe thoughts pop up while I go down this train of thought, so I'll keep it simple by talking about this fascinating cleaner first.

I remember my time in S1 Branch as the RnD clerk. I started my work there willing to learn everything my upperstudy was willing to (and actually remembered how to) teach me. Handling bottles of urine didn't bother me. It was part of my job. Doing up charge report after charge report didn't bother me. Oh how quickly that mindset changed. When the "routine" fell into place, other things began popping up. "Special" disciplinary actions which my upperstudy wasn't too clear about. "Special arrows" from officers who think that clerks are too free. Soon, the job wasn't about deriving satisfaction from servicing the battalion as a clerk. It was no longer about giving the utmost attention so that you could present the officer with a nicely done report. It became a matter of efficiency. Bullocks to the perfection, what everyone wanted from the clerks are jobs done ASAP. Was the same happening to the cleaner? Was he enthusiastic and gungho when he first started? Did he smile more often and cheerfully cleaned the tables? Has efficiency taken out the human touch from things that we do?

Subsidiary points include why he's still clearing tables when he looks like he could be enjoying life at his age. Is he bored of staying at home? Does he derive satisfaction from clearing tables? Is the nominal pay much better than sitting on a rocking chair? Or is the situation a lot sadder? Does he have kids to support him? Are they supporting him? How does he feel clearing the tables in a Kopitiam in university? I mean, all around him are students in an institute of higher learning, future movers and shakers. And there he is, coming from the same generation that brought Singapore its founding fathers, clearing tables. How are we compared to them? Are we really becoming more apathic? Are our manners really deteriorating? Are you excited that you are mingling with people who might eventually become CEOs, Members of Parliament or the like? Or are you just looking out for the next plate, doing your job?

I remember doing up practice paper after practice paper preparing for my PSLE exams. One day, while doing a paper, I heard the Karang Guni man announce his presense downstairs. This was something I had heard week after week, all my years I had stayed there. But this time was different. Somehow, that same shout of "Karang Guni" seemed to be saying "study hard or you will end up like me, living the hard life." I told my parents about it that night, to which they smiled knowingly. My wild imagination could be helpful at times, they must have been thinking. I did work hard for my PSLE and later on for my O levels. The Karang Guni man now rarely shouts.

What do all these stories have in common? I have no idea. But well, a lesson gleaned, no matter the circumstances, is still a lesson worth learning. -Jimmy