So many things to accomplish, so little money to do them.
At least that’s how I feel now. Almost everyone I know knows that I quit my job to try and work my way to Japan. As it is now, I’m currently freelancing as a writer and looking for teaching jobs overseas to fill my resume up. In a nutshell, I’m floating around, hoping I can support myself in the next few months while I figure out what to do.
I’ve completely jumped the gun, really, on quitting my job. Looking back, I had a lot of things going for me in that job. Nice challenges, great colleagues, a relaxing if high-pressured environment. It was a cushy job if I was looking to do the same thing year after year, with a possible push into creative lead (not happening soon) or into account management (which I don’t like).
There were things that I was pressured to do because of the job’s requirements, things that didn’t gel with my ethos. It was the straw that broke the camel’s back for me. And while I understand that there are people who would happily forgo their principles to survive, which my father insists I should have done, it is not something I am going to do. If I want to be a real teacher and give people a reason to look up to me, then it makes sense that I should be that example even now.
If my father is looking towards anyone to blame, he should blame the private secondary school he sent me to. It was in SM Stella Maris that I saw firsthand the sacrifices made by my teachers to give us an education that was not simply covered in the syllabus. I met teachers who enjoyed teaching and looking after their charges. Teachers who lived up to their principles. Teachers who were not afraid to tell parents that their children deserved a break, and not force them to complete high school. There were teachers like Mrs Chua, who sparked my love and analysis for literature. Mr Alex for patience. And so many others.
Stella Maris though, was not the only place where I found such teachers. Despite the reputation, my first secondary school, SMK Seaport, also had similar dedicated teachers. There was Mr Allen, who took his job as a discipline teacher not only to enforce the law, but to provide a safe place for the afternoon session. He’s the only teacher that I can name right now, but there were many others who also imprinted themselves on me. There was the Chemistry teacher who spoke with a loudspeaker attached because she had a condition where she couldn’t speak aloud. There was that Geography teacher who didn’t lose her temper at us despite her students sleeping in class, because teaching the afternoon class right after recess was a good way for the students to sleep. There’s even that Arts teacher who tried to give us an appreciation of Arts, but which failed completely. I’m sorry Cikgu.
I’m luckier than most of my peers, because it seems that I have an overabundance on teachers who tried to teach instead of dominate. Teachers who sought to impart knowledge and hopefully not turn out drones. Teachers who showed me that it was better to be a functioning member of society instead of chasing after luxuries.
Teachers who have shaped me today.
I’m not saying that I didn’t have bad teachers. There have been some bad apples but they were the exception, not the rule (thankfully). They were the perfect example of what NOT to do.
But I’m disgressing.
The thing is, I was the one who got myself into this hole. And I am very much the person who has to dig myself out. Because as the Mothership says, the one person who will be with you until the very end, is yourself.
And if I betray myself to survive, then who am I, really?
We can’t go back again,
the story has already started.
me wo samase me wo samase
Open your eyes, open your eyes.
kono omoi wo keshiteshimau ni ha
mada jinsei nagai desho?
I’ll erase this feeling…
I still have a long life don’t I?