As it turns out, I couldn’t blog as frequently as I had mentioned; training has been so intense and our schedules so tight that by the time I have any free time left, the only thing that is on my mind is lesson planning, lesson planning, and lesson planning. ‘Me’ time has become so precious that I don’t want to do anything else nor even think!
We’re already one month into training, and it’s hard to believe there is less than four weeks to go. I already know that I’m going to miss everyone so much by the end of this. Though most of us have only met for the first time during training institute, it feels as if we have known each other for years. I guess that’s what living with each other 24/7 for the past month does to you!
We’ve actually been teaching for the past two weeks, and we’re coming to the end of our third week now, of a four-week holiday school program we call Kem SKORlah. There are moments when I still think, “I’m going to be a teacher”, when in fact, we’ve been teachers these few weeks. I am a teacher. I am a teacher. It feels unreal, especially when I know I have still so much to learn, and a ways to go before becoming the transformational teacher and leader we all aspire to be.
Stepping into the classroom and actually teaching, executing our lesson plans we slave over every day, is an entirely different experience. Learning things on the fly, meeting our students, and all our hopes and dreams of becoming transformational teachers… there is a lot on our shoulders to bear, to make TFM truly a success. There are high expectations to be met and many challenges to be overcome.
There are so many stories I have to tell, so many experiences I want to share. Where do I even begin?
For one, the language barrier had always been something I anticipated, but it wasn’t until this week that the reality of the challenges I will face in my actual school hit hard: I found that I am unable to connect to my students as effectively as my other friends. When I ask them questions in English, the awkwardness is pertinent. My attempt to inject a little BM into my words doesn’t work, because it’s just not ‘me’. From day one, I had informed my kids that I will speak to them entirely in English – partly because I don’t trust myself to speak BM, at the risk of sounding like a fool, and secondly, I simply can’t think fast enough to translate my words into BM. Also, I strongly believe that for one to learn a language, you must be completely immersed in it – that’s how you are challenged, and are forced to listen, understand and think in that language, and therefore learn it. The chief reason why so many Malaysian schools perform so poorly in English is precisely because it is taught by teachers who are simply not competent in English themselves. It’s ridiculous to blame the students for their poor command of the language, when they did not have good teachers in the first place.
So it hasn’t been too bad – they understand me as long as I remember not to speak too fast (lest my words run together like a runaway train – which unfortunately happens, because I have a tendency to talk too fast when I get too animated!). On the other hand, the other three Fellows who are with me, teaching in the same class, use a fair bit of BM when teaching. So they’re able to connect more easily to the students. The language barrier creates a wall, and I guess that’s why my students probably find it harder to relate to me as well. My IS (institute specialist, kind of like our personal trainers slash coaches) told me today that I teach in quite formal English (I apparently have a ‘neutral American accent’ – I think quite a number of Brunei people have that actually) rather than ‘Manglish’ – which is better for the kids in the long run, because then they actually learn proper English. But it’s an adjustment for them, because they are not used to having ‘proper’ English teachers. In any case, it’s still a good experience, as we prepare for the next two years of our ‘actual’ teaching stint.
There are positive stories, of course, the heartwarming experiences. There are the kids in my class who were apathetic on the first day, but the change in some of them, their eagerness to learn and willingness to listen is extremely encouraging. I was very pleasantly surprised and happy last week when one of my girls actually came to me with extra essays she wrote so that I can check them and go through with her!
In spite of the sleep deprivation and the busy schedule, I wouldn’t exchange this for anything else. Just tonight, we had a very inspirational inspire session with Tan Sri Dr Jemilah – so very, very privileged to have met this awesome woman and change agent! Among the many quotable things she shared was “education is the cornerstone for everything” (emphasis mine). And one pertinent question that has been put in my mind today is the question of how I can empower and equip my students in such a way that it sets them up for success, even long after I’m gone? What are the values and abilities I can impart to them, so that they can rely on those to help them when I’m not around? The mark of a transformational and successful leader is how he or she is able to successfully impart core values and vision to the next generation so that the company or group will continue to function beautifully even after the leader has stepped down or passed on the baton.
These past couple of days, one of my favourite quotes by St. Augustine kept echoing in my mind:
“Hope has two beautiful daughters. Their names are anger and courage; anger at the way things are, and courage to see that they do not remain the way they are.”
“One day, every child in Malaysia will have the opportunity to attain an excellent education.” That is our vision.
Even throughout these few weeks in Kem SKORlah, we’ve already come up against a few things typical to Malaysian education, very bureaucratic, very strict-laced. And it’s frustrating to see how “education” is “conducted”. There needs to be a shift in the paradigm. There needs to be change, or the country will really head down the drain. And here we stand, fiercely clinging onto hope for the better, with the anger and dissatisfaction at the system, and finding courage to see that things do not remain the way they are. No, we won’t see the tangible rewards or results immediately, but we are laying down the framework, the foundation, and planting seeds for a brighter future.
The need is great. And not everyone shares the same passion to want to “change the world”. No, we may not change the world per se. But I know this much: at the very least, we can change the world for that one child.
