Divine Warring

Ex-citizens of my form class tend to possess this not so entirely hard to believe mental notion that once they have been transferred out of my care, all their connections with me are disconnected, all related data - deleted and future dealings - blocked.

Tell me that I might be exaggerating, but I still won’t deny that on paper, there is some truth in there.

Spiritually, I am now to going to clarify…there could be nothing further from the notion.

Just because I walk past you sometimes seeming not to notice you, or just because you walk past me, holding on to your notions, you are always somewhere on my mind, and occupying a place in my heart.

Frankly it’s not that I CHOOSE to be this way. It’s just that over time I have come to learn of myself - This is the way I was wired to behave…for some God-given purpose.

I will always be there for any of you.

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You kept your head down most of the time. But I know there were tears in your eyes, anger in your soul, and pain in your heart. You are confused. I really truly know how you feel.

In choosing to teach, I made a calculated decision to return to the road I once walked…to seek out lost travellers and show them the path…the path I sometimes took…but many a time, the path I wished I had taken.

You lift your head now…look at me now. You look real hard. I am going to show you the path. Take it. Don’t close up on me. Don’t shut the door…you will lose your way. You have to trust me.

Everyone wants to be the perfect parent. I want to be the perfect parent. But I know all too well, an imperfect human being can never be a perfect anything.

Your father is not perfect. He can and will never be perfect. I am sorry for the mistakes he has made in raising you, but hold fast to the good in him but always remember that you will one day be a father. Realise that you too WILL make mistakes…and you WILL want to be forgiven. Cliché as it may sound but I am going to say it anyway…To sin is human…but to forgive is divine. You will need God’s help.

God is perfect. He will help you forgive…He will help you do the things you are strengthless to do on your own.

He formed you in your mother's womb...he watched you take your first few steps...He has always been and will always be there for you...He has His eyes on you. You got to trust me.

I am not giving up on you. You listen to me…I am not giving up on you...

"For we are not fighting against people made of flesh and blood, but against the evil rulers and authorities of the unseen world, against those mighty powers of darkness who rule this world, and against wicked spirits in the heavenly realms."
- Ephesians 6:12

My Students' New Clothes

As I was driving home the other day, something caught my eye- An MRT whooshing 500m to the left of my view. It’s not that I have never seen an MRT. But what jolted me into MRT consciousness was its new look.

The MRT was no longer in its governmental deck grey body- hydrant red logo combination I had remembered it being in. Instead, it was dressed in a splash of vibrant yellows, reds and greens. What a welcoming change I thought and was immediately convicted with an odd feeling that perhaps the change hadn’t been something that recent. Rummaging through my mind a little further, I couldn’t even remember the last time I had even looked at an MRT! One week ago? Not possible. A month? I don’t know. Highly likely not. Whatever the timeframe… anything further than that could hardly be considered something ‘new’ as I had labeled the dress code of the MRT.

Have I matured or perhaps evolved into the nothing ever changes cynicism?

Hours before the sight of the MRT, I had spent a long, sun burning day at the beach with my form class. Prior to the outing, I was in a state of half-regret. I see them all week, a lesson for sure everyday. They are no easy bunch. I have had to constantly manage them with whatever measures my desperate mind could think of. Shouts of threats, sweet cajoles, and sometimes even brute cop tactics. Truancy, fights, defiance, disruptiveness, smoking, they are all part of a day’s work with them. I had never brought any of my form classes out before and I had only decided to bring this class out to build my rapport with them for I felt that if my rapport with them reached an acceptable level, that would make it easier for me to manage them. Anyhow, since I had given them my word, and sought permission from the principal, I went ahead with it.

What an experience it turned out to be!

Sand fights, water wrestling, water monkey, beach soccer (which was more like rugby with a soccer ball) were the order of the day. It was incredible! I threw off my inhibitions and assumed the playful little boy I had always been (oops!) And in my relaxed, guard down euphoric mood, I started to look at my class in a different light…the feeling was pretty much the same as when I looked at the MRT in its new colours. I forgot what they were at school or in the classroom, what teachers and their own parents told me about them. …I just saw them for what they have always been…and truly are…deep within…without the necessity for them to be somebody’s son, daughter, or a student of a school, or any other society-defined role, they were who they are.

But along the same river of thought…I guess I was who I am. I will never forget that day. The day I discovered my students’ new colours.

Just slightly over a week later today, I realised that it HAS become easier to manage them since the trip.

I actually like them. :-)

With a satisfied smile on my face which has yet to recover from sunburn, I realise that I have learnt a valuable lesson …I will have to recover from the nothing ever changes cynicism. From henceforth, I shall make it a habitual point to look out for new clothes on my students.

Hurtful Things

It might have been passing comments said with a bad taste of humour.
Could it possibly have been a real tactless way to provide me with some “oh so noble” feedback on my person?
Perhaps, it was a time-dependent eruption waiting to happen, a build-up of all these months (years?) of tolerance that could no longer be held back. I wouldn't have a clue.
Maybe, it was just a frivolous tease and nothing that deserved being read into. *Sigh* but it did have some truth in it... I think.

It came and while I managed to brush my emotions off to avoid an uncomfortable situation, the effect was embedded in its place.

I am one of the many people who get really hurt about negative things said about me. It matters little whether it’s said to my face or behind my back. And unfortunately for me, I am real bad at detecting humour underlying such comments. Sometimes I wonder the real miracle it must be for my skin not to have learnt the art of thickening after all these years.

Sleepless nights, Constant and persistent mental querying, rationalizations, silent sullen moods and recently when my God doesn’t seem to produce an answer my mind deems worthy of accepting, I start regurgitating my mastication of thoughts and emotions to my faithful sounding board who is also my best friend and my life partner – Lisa.

For someone who says so little, and who says things with such simplicity, it’s amazing the effect her words have on me.

“Everyone goes through it…Nobody’s perfect…Give it to God. It’s easy! It’s like this- Here God.. (flailing both her little hands as if shooing a fly) Na! I give this to you!”
Of course, she tops it up with her usual patient reminding assurance of all the qualities she sees in me. Sometimes she has to rebuke my negativity and strangely, I allow her to. (If you knew me and her well enough, you would find this strange too)

I do not instantly snap out of whatever I know I need to, but I would feel much better…just as I do tonight.

At the end of it all, all I can and will say as I look heavenward is, “Father, You knew exactly what I needed way way better than what I thought I needed. Thank you.”

"Two people can accomplish more than twice as much as one; they get a better return for their labor. If one person falls, the other can reach out and help. But people who are alone when they fall are in real trouble. And on a cold night, two under the same blanket can gain warmth from each other. But how can one be warm alone? A person standing alone can be attacked and defeated, but two can stand back-to-back and conquer." – Ecclesiastes 4:7-12

A Blogworthy Day

Two postings in a single day! Indeed what has come over me...

I thank God for this day. It was truly refreshing, invigorating.

As I set off from my house, I resolved in my heart to put aside anything related to school. Well... as much as possible anyway.

The outcome? Rewarding.

It is not often that I have the privilege to enjoy weekday lunches with Lisa. This I had today. The delightful meal was kopitiam style lamb chops. For some reason, my kids tend to presume I live a fine dining lifestyle. You know - Marche, Lawrys, Compass Rose? I wonder what gave them that idea. Well then again, many also insist I listen to classical music.

As Lisa made her way back to work, I made my way to the library just downstairs where I would while waiting for her spend hours poring over...

1) Home and Decor
Managed to source some ideas for the dining bench of our new home.
Found a brand of quality ceiling fans. Pricey? Not too sure. But they certainly seem reliable enough to seriously consider.

2) An R K Naryanan Book
Naryanan is an author highly recommended by Mrs Sundrum.
Reading Salt and Sawdust - a collection of short stories based largely in Mysore, India, I could reason why. It has never been unknown to me how Indian men were generally allowed and actually pressured by their women to reign as gods in their households. However, the story, “Salt and Sawdust” inflicted me with streams of smiles as the ‘man’ of the house while a busy, lowly-paid factory worker would arise early in the morning to perform his duties as the cook of the house only purely because his gifted novelist housewife couldn’t cook! One might be tempted to assume his resentment at that. However, not only is this far from being mentioned in the story but the implicitly displayed love and the profound respect that one can only sense this man, Swami, had for his wife, seems to intentionally challenge culture and norms. But the talent Naryanan possesses lies in him being able to go against the grain in such a subtle manner, that one would not label him a controversial writer. Hence by “playing it safe”, he ensured his book’s popularity for the masses.

One of the highlights of the day had to be purchasing back issues of National Geographic from a nearby street stall at a super bargain price – three for five dollars! I could hardly decide whether to be angered at the gross devaluation of the greatest magazine of all time or be overjoyed at the ignorance of the storekeeper that led to the discount. I chose to be angered first and then overjoyed. I bought three. Minutes before writing this entry, I was blessed with a cultural awakening thanks to a 1998 article on the wedding of 15-year-old Assalama to her 25-year-old cousin, Mohammed. Both of whom belong to the Tuaregs, a semi-nomadic tribe, situated close to the heart of the Sahara desert.

Perhaps if I still have the mood, more of the article will be shared with my faithful readers but on another posting of course.

Honest Reflections on my Third Teacher’s Day

My passion is surely as well and alive today as it had been the day I received via divine appointment the call to teach. No, my passion has not changed. I guess then, what has changed is quite honestly and for what I feel unashamed to admit is the fact that I have become a much better teacher. Personally, I consider myself a very good teacher (regardless of what my critiques think and say). Not the best, but nonetheless very good.

What makes me very good, I credit to my motivations which I assess to be pure. Promotions, pay rises, those are nice and certainly desirable but they don’t drive me. What drives me is the want to see lives transformed, young minds to break out of the comfort zone and query, think, storm through the issues of LIFE unceasingly, the desperate want to be alongside those who are walking the road of pain, to offer my hand to the hopeless swimmers and yet inflict the rod of discipline to grow the fruit of righteousness.

I want to partner the Gardener in cultivating, nurturing lives with a view on eternity. I just want to do all I can for those He has put in my path.

Can I?

A question I honestly ponder today. In an ideal world, effort is directly proportional to output. But I have learnt that in the real world, and to be more precise where one heavily deals with and depends on people, this equation fluctuates…quite often in an inverse direction…and when the people in this ‘real world’ are volatile, ever changing, temperamental teenagers, we might as well call the whole equation off.

Contrary to what many perceive, I love all my students equally much. There are of course those who please me more, but that does not mean I love the rest any less. This is something that takes maturity to understand. What I have realised is that teenagers change the most once they hit 15 or maybe they have always been changing but its effect is only materialised then. Most start to pull away from you…some even fully. This has made me look at my younger charges with a certain appreciation and yet sadness. Their wanting your constant attention, jealousy when you spend more time with the others and needing to come to you with minor problems of all shapes and sizes… all these which now so bother will someday vanish and when you learn that you are no longer a significant part of their lives, will be missed. I guess positively looking at it, this independence is probably healthy, a sign of growing up.

However, sometimes, it goes beyond just pulling away and into rebellion and hatred. As symbols of authority, the brunt of laying the rules falls on us. People have never known to like rules. Teenagers, they hate rules and only the most mature ones understand the rationale for them. My heart sank and I know so did many of those of my friends when we heard the Sec 4s jeer during the Teacher’s Day commendation speech. I couldn’t help but look at the Sec 1s and my heart sank further when I envisioned them in a few years time.

Back to the question…Can I?

Still pondering the question, I really don’t know. What I do know is that I want to…whatever it takes. I will just have to re-adjust my own personal perceptions, mental models, expectations , most importantly set aside my blinding emotions and believe in the prophecy that supports my name - pray and fight on.

But as for today, it is time to remember my existence again and romance myself. I shall treat myself to a nice lunch, a movie perhaps, and definitely some good reads. I haven’t seen my uni-nice for two days and this evening will be looked forward to.

A Blessed Teacher’s Day to all teachers!