That significant moment marked the end of a full year of
teaching for me, and as I packed my things for the last time, I pondered upon
the year and where I stood in terms of my goals.
2012 had been a particularly challenging year. It was a year
of many firsts: first time living in a rural area, first time having to be
responsible for more than 160 students every day, first time facing the
challenge of educating students 8 academic years behind where they should be,
first time consoling a student who sobbed over her poor marks, first time
fighting to replace my students’ smoking-time with English-time
and literally dragging them out of the toilets to learn, first time being cursed at for refusing to have a sleeping student in my class (this is why teaching a foreign language is both important but difficult).
They say that the greatest opportunities arise from the
greatest struggles, and no big victory is won with small losses. 2012 was also
the year I learnt to live simply: to replace the air-conditioners and ceiling
fans for a rotating fan, the shower heater in the cold mornings for a bucket,
fancy restaurants for pots of boiled-through-the-night potato soup (I’m pretty
good at this by now), sophisticated conversations with the educated for basic exchanges in broken English (or
Malay, on my part). This was both humbling and liberating.
In 2012 I saw students achieve grades they never imagined they
could, listened to students as they read their English books with a new found
confidence, was inspired by the many outstanding peers I have in the TFM
Fellowship and decided that ultimately, even if I do not continue teaching in schools after
this, I will aspire to live the life of a teacher.
The year has only begun and it is one of great hope and
potential. So many possibilities lie in the dark, undiscovered road ahead,
waiting to be lit up by courage. In a sense, life is like a big examination paper
that we prepare for, not knowing fully what the questions will be until they
finally arrive. The exam comes according to its own schedule, waiting not for us to be prepared, and we often only see the fruits of our labour when the
results are released -- when we can’t do anything about it anymore. It is then
that we either rejoice for our perseverance, hardwork and determination, or
regret at what could have been.