When the last bell rings

On the 9^th of November last year, the bell rang for the last time in the busy corridors and stairways of the school, as 900 overjoyed students began their stampede to the gate.

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.

Here’s hoping that it will be the former --  when the last bell rings this year.