Wherein lies your intention?

It takes all kinds....
In this world, there are dreamers and the realists, lenders and borrowers, optimists and pessimists, and the givers and takers.

What is your intention?
What is your personal agenda?
We all do things for a reason...
and to reach a sincere and pure intention...
Is the hardest thing to do.

Lillahi Taallah...
Guide me...and make my niat,
the right way to your path

Another one bites the dust...really?

I think STOMP , twitter and even FB are trending about how a young local girl had boasted about slapping her mother. She is still a teenager, barely 15.

From what I have read (ya...I do have a bone to pick with 'citizen journalism', but that's another issue altogether), this child claimed to have done the deed, and posted about her actions on FB. She also decided to rant, and called her mother all kinds of derogatory terms. Someone who read her post then sent it to STOMP.  The floodgates opened up a whole slew of reactions - from those who felt so outraged and called insulted her in turn, to those who felt that her actions were really 'cool' and wanted to befriend her...only to be 'hurt' when she accepted one of the 300 people who made the request on FB.

Welcome to the end of civilisation.

I am not going to adopt a 'holier-than-thou' attitude.
I think in my postings, I have had enough grief over the issues that plague society...
Lets just put it such that I want the finger pointing to stop.

I am appealing for those who still hold on to good universal values to look deep into ourselves, and think of what we ought to be doing. It starts with ourselves.

Coming from an educator's perspective...I can guess what needs to be done, and what we are likely to do.

"Let he who is without sin, cast the first stone".
As hard as it is, no matter how 'outraged' or 'appalled' I feel, there must be steps to 'save' this child.
No matter how much bravado she displays, I am sure she is reeling from the consequences of her actions. The vigilantes are up-in-arms against her...and no one can withstand a whole onslaught of abuses hurled back at her (see...karma already...and personally, those who use vulgarities back are no way better than her).

Yes...
She must 'pay'. She needs to know the err of her ways.
But I wonder how many Fbookers, or tweeters or whatsoever, has not publicly ranted, nor called another person names. How many have boosted about hitting or punching or whatsoever your boss or colleague or friend?

Lets ask...
What can we do now?...
Can we turn things around for her?

Or...is she another one of the 'sleeping child', who develops a whole new persona when she is awake?

A Little Thankfulness

Technically, yesterday was the last day of school for some students. With the advent of the O'levels, many secondary school ends earlier as compared to those in primary schools. But lessons will still carry on for another two weeks or so unofficially so that a lot more of in-depth teaching can take place.

There were two things that I want to reflect about as the academic year comes to a close.
Firstly...the exam results and moderation.
I do not want to go into the validity of papers set. That I trust...and most teachers I know would have prepared taught what is needed, and prepared the students for the exams.

Yet we spend many hours debating over 'poor academic performance'.
We become the judge and jury...debating on whether on not some of the students would really be ready to move on to the next level...when it is obvious that some of the reasons for the bad results stem from the child's own attitude and apparent lack of interest.

Enough said here...there is enough great debate out that about exams and its whole plethora of shortcomings when it comes to evaluating a person's worth....

But here is the crunch.
I know that there are teachers who care enough to want to help these students move on.
We evaluate each case carefully, and most of the time, the teachers will speak up for the child.
...and they do it with sincerity.

Which comes to my second point...
One of the last exercises I had to do yesterday with a class was to encourage them to write a nomination for a national 'award...which is to recognise the teacher for his/her contributions in the line of duty. All the students had to do was to simply write a few lines to thank any teacher whom the child think is caring.

While some dutifully filled up the form, there were many who stared blankly.
"I cannot think of anyone," was the common phrase word.
"Must I really do this?" another whined.

I know I had no right to be upset with the attitude. Perhaps gratitude is the last thing these children want to display. It may be presumptuous of me to say that this display of apathy is payback time for the amount of nagging and scolding they remembered...and of course, the ones...that we helped push up despite the poor results...had also skipped class.

But...the classic line was this.
"For what, cher? Isn't caring part of your job? ... Teachers are paid to do it, right?
After all, you are just a civil servant...we pay you already!"...came the 'joking' jibe.

Ouch...ouch...ouch...
I failed as an educator....

Locked Out...

The title has special significance for several reasons.

Firstly, I could not update the blog as I could not gain access to it.
You see, the email address I have been using all these while is 'owned' by the larger organisation I work for...and they have 'migrated' to a new 'cloud somehow...(dang if I can fully understand all this high-tech terminology)...In short, I got locked out cos the password is now sacredly associated with that user id.  Fortunately, donkey years ago, I had created a long-forgotten gmail account...and apparently, blogger said I could use that...but I had forgotten that user id and password as well...Anyway, it took me three days to figure out the steps I had to take to finally get back in here.

Locked out...physically.
This was what happened to the child I had mentioned in one of the earlier entries.
I do not want to elaborate...but his father's failure to settle debts found the family locked out and thrown out of their rental flat...
I pray that you will be able to find a place to stay...or else I know you will end up like the other stories of families living by the beach.

Which comes to my final point...
I truly understand why some parents get locked out...from their children' hearts.
While parents too, are humans, capable of mistakes,
their 'errors, faults, and flaws'
...can stem from arrogance, rigidity and insistence that 'I am always right'
...from their old-fashioned echoes of  "respect me cos I'm older, and as a parent, I ought to be obeyed'
...from unrealistic expectations
...or simply from, a failure to fully play the role of a parent...who should be loving, protective, forgiving and responsible.

I have seen and heard enough to know this...
And as a parent too, I have made mistakes too.
But I learn...and god knows, I truly try.
For the day I get locked out from my children' hearts...
will be the day, I lose mine.

Ya Allah,
guide me...

Ameen.

Down that road again...

Tomorrow is the start of the O'level exams.
EL paper will kick off the exams.

Each year, besides the release of the results, the day will see me on tenterhooks.
Of course, I will be filled with self-doubts....
Have I done enough?
Did I teach them the right thing?
Could I have done more?
What have I not done?

It's hard to shake off this feeling.
It's not the stake of just obtaining good results...or whether I achieved the set msg.
It is about...
feeling responsible for the children...
because the results...in a way, will affect whether or not they can move on to the next stage, and where they will move to...

And this year, it's especially hard,
cos this is the group of children I have seen through for three years...
I have grown fond of them...
The stakes are higher...

Dear God,
Please watch over them...clear their minds...
Help them to think...and remember.
Ameen

The world goes on...deal with it.

These few days, I have learnt a lot just by observing people - especially the children in school. I also have been re-reading Florence Littauer's "Personality Plus" to have a better understanding of why people behave the way they do (hahaha...yes...in a way it's true when someone says "I cannot help it.I'm born this way!")

But one of the best opportunties to study positivity and resilience presented itself yesterday evening when I met up with one of my ex-students. I have always thought of him as a calm and steady person.  His quiet demeanour belies the inner turbulence he experiences daily.  He is not academically strong, and I remember his struggles facing the O'levels.  But he kept going on....and ...on...and on...pushing himself.

I think when one has a 'bigger purpose' in life, somehow, that provides the motivation to keep on peservering. I knew he had issues, most of them, not of his doing. He knew that his results would be key to getting out of his predicament, and no matter how hard things got, he just had to never lose sight of that.  But I can image, even at 17 then, having to balance between studies and work.  There was no other choice. He had to support his mother.

Currently, he is in a polytechnic, in his final year.
He gave up a chance for a work attachment abroad, because it was just not financially viable, and of course, it meant that his mother, who was not working, would not be able to fend for herself. (let's not talk about dad - cos he is the root cause of all the problems)

So he managed to compact his study schedule to 4 days in a week - Monday to Thursday - from 8am to 8pm.  It is something called the 'competition route'.  On Fridays, Saturdays, and Sundays, he works from 9am to 9pm (for $7 per hour...and "every single cent counts, Cher"). When probed, he survives on a 'decent breakfast' at home, and eats again only when he reaches home for dinner. Weekdays are 'luxuries' because his work at the F&B outlet has lunch thrown in...and when probed what he does doing lunch breaks in school - he smiles and says that "I catch up with sleep'.

I was tearing.
Through the years I have known him, never have I understood the extent of his struggles.  But yesterday was the first time he opened up to me - and told in a matter-of-fact way. There are no regrets, no sighs, no hoots, no complaints...and no whining.  Yesterday, he shared, simply because he was just tired...not tired of what he was going through, but just tired physically.

But the face remained serene and smiling.
I supposed that we all need to 'unload' and share sometimes...so it all came tumbling out.
The house rents are three months overdue, so are the utility bills. So the family is on the verge of eviction...

His lowest point was when the 'creditors' came aknocking in the middle of the night threatening their lives...he was so badly rattled that he failed all his subjects in the middle of last year. But by sheer grit, he clawed his way back...His regret was letting that episode pull down his GPA.

I spent a considerable time, just allowing him to speak. I really felt so humbled in his presence.  It was as if my own problems were so negligable compared to what he is going through.

I offered some help.
He gently brushed me aside. "No charity, cher," he chided. I know that this 'pride' is something he so strongly holds on to...it was a matter of principles...his sense of honour.

My son, Akmal, was with me throughout the dinner.  He has long come to regard this person as his 'godbrother'.  And when we left, Akmal asked me this:
"Ma...how does one go through so much and remain so strong and cheerful? I want to learn this from Kor-Kor"."

I am glad Akmal saw that.
And I am grateful that Allah send me these 'children' as reminders of my own purpose in life.

Alhamdulillah.

The sleeping child (II)

Back in the days when I was teaching literature in lower secondary, I introduced the students to a poem by John Walsh entitled "The Bully Asleep." Basically, it is about a group of students who were plotting 'revenge' on a bully who made their lives miserable. The best opportunity came when he fell asleep in class.

The idea from the poem befits the image of J, who had his head on the table. He was snoring away softly, oblivious to the laughter that was building up around him.  J. may not be the terrible bully as portrayed in the Walsh's poem, but there are are striking similarities.

This afternoon, when grassy Scents through the classroom crept, 

Bill Craddock laid his head Down on his desk, and slept.

The children came round him: Jimmy, Roger, and Jane; 

They lifted his head timidly And let it sink again.

‘Look, he’s gone sound asleep Miss’, Said Jimmy Adair; 

‘He stays up all the night, you see; His mother doesn’t care.’

J's story? 

Well. he does fall asleep when the humidity levels in the classroom reached almost an unbearable level. It was a usual sight to have him slumped over. I did not know which was better honestly. For you see, when J is awake, he talks endlessly. He must always have the last word. He is a bright child; and has a sharp wit. He has a good range of vocabulary; so some of the 'barbs' I throw at him are easily deflected. Even when told to keep quiet, he will attract attention with needless gestures; with a kick to the table, or by scraping his chair.

Yes...he does stay up all night. At least that was what his form teacher told me. And the fact that he lives a considerable distance from the school often finds him falling asleep in buses...and he is inevitably late for school on numerous occasions.

‘Stand away from him children.’ Miss Andrews stopped to see. 

‘Yes, he’s asleep; go on With your writing, and let him be.’

‘Now’s a good chance!’ whispered Jimmy, And he snatched Bill’s pen and hid it.

 ‘Kick him under the desk, hard; He won’t know who did it’

‘Fill all his pockets with rubbish – Paper, apple-cores, chalk.’ 

So they plotted, while Jane Sat wide-eyed at their talk.

I do not need to really tell you that J does not endear himself to his peers.  Negative attention is still produce some form of response from others - so in his loud, brash ways, J attracts all the wrong kind of attention. He is boorish, crude, and rubs people the wrong way.  He is not a bully in the conventional sense - it's his ways that puts people off.

Not caring, not hearing,Bill Craddock he slept on;
Lips parted, eyes closed –Their cruelty gone.

‘Stick him with pins!’ muttered Roger.
‘Ink down his neck!’ said Jim.
But Jane, tearful and foolish,
Wanted to comfort him.
In short, J is not a person that you would warm up to easily.  There were days when I feel exasperated by his endless distractions.  He hardly has books in his bag, has no papers nor books, and comes to class with the dirtiest-looking rag of a T-shirt ever.  When asked for his shirt, he would pull out a crumpled, yellowed school uniform  and grumbled that the weather was too hot to be wearing one.

But as I watch him sleep; with the exam paper left undone, a few things struck me...

This was a child...
whose fighting parents have declared that neither one wanted him
where the roof over his head was taken away because of the adults defaulting payment
who came to school sometimes without the money to fill his stomach

This is a child...
....this is a sad....sad....sad...sad...child.

Sleep J...if it calms your troubled soul....