This is not a post about me reporting to you what happened to me during my school-based experience, because reading bout me bragging to all you out there about "oh i was asked to be the athletics coach" and "oh my students said I look like Yuna" and "oh the fucking Headmaster said I was blah..blah...smart..blah..handsome.." would be really annoying.
There's one thing that I learnt about children that week. I discovered that they are all magical creatures. There's something about them that touches my heart and makes me smile whenever I think of them, when they cross my mind. Like how they yearn for and adore your attentions.
I went to this school where class streaming is heavily implemented. Man they even have class streaming for standard one. Imagine how kiasu it is to have standard ones to strive for the so-called best class. I hate class streaming. They put the good ones in one class and the ones they deemed as the not-so-good-ones in another.
And then they gave attention only to the better one, simply because those kids are smarter. Because those kids behave. Because those kids perform better in exams as they don't only depend on the teacher at school only. Because those kids have an engineer or a doctor or a bank managers or a Datuk for a parent. They do.
Then they ignore the kids in the weaker class, because at 10 years old they can't read. Because they make noise in class. Because they don't do their homework, or hand in the PTA form, or come late to school.
Because what the teacher doesn't know is that those children hardly get any attention at all. They have parents who work night and day for food on the table. They go to school with a hungry stomach. They come from poor families. Their parents are divorced. Their parents sent them away to live with their grandparents who couldn't be more annoyed of their silly antiques, grandparents who yell, "I'll Kill You" when they do something wrong. Because they are ignored, neglected, unloved.
I have this one boy who is in my class. Now here comes the bragging, old grandmother stories part which you all love to hate. His name is Rashid. Oh, that aint his real name anyways. I get it changed due to protection and privacy. Why Rashid? EH HELLO its my blog, sukati I la Rashid ke Arshad ke Irshad ke.
So apparently Rashid lives near my house and my parents know his and whatnot. In fact, I've known Rashid before I went to his class the other day. Rashid lives with his grandparents and is known to be a rascal, all naughty and what not.
Now I was just the teacher on training. I know nothing about Rashid. At least that's what I thought when I went to his class that day.
He was in the last class.
He behaved. Of all the things in the world that he can do, he behaved. He volunteered to read, to act out in the little sketch I had for them,and he behaved. I was touched, because then he wasn't the naughty boy I heard. Not at all.
Maybe because I give my attention to him, because then, he wasn't any rascal, any naughty kid, he was my student.
Because then, he wasn't the student from the last class. He was my student.
They're all children after all. Give 'em a tad bit of love and attention and they'll be alright. I promise.
There's one thing that I learnt about children that week. I discovered that they are all magical creatures. There's something about them that touches my heart and makes me smile whenever I think of them, when they cross my mind. Like how they yearn for and adore your attentions.
I went to this school where class streaming is heavily implemented. Man they even have class streaming for standard one. Imagine how kiasu it is to have standard ones to strive for the so-called best class. I hate class streaming. They put the good ones in one class and the ones they deemed as the not-so-good-ones in another.
And then they gave attention only to the better one, simply because those kids are smarter. Because those kids behave. Because those kids perform better in exams as they don't only depend on the teacher at school only. Because those kids have an engineer or a doctor or a bank managers or a Datuk for a parent. They do.
Then they ignore the kids in the weaker class, because at 10 years old they can't read. Because they make noise in class. Because they don't do their homework, or hand in the PTA form, or come late to school.
Because what the teacher doesn't know is that those children hardly get any attention at all. They have parents who work night and day for food on the table. They go to school with a hungry stomach. They come from poor families. Their parents are divorced. Their parents sent them away to live with their grandparents who couldn't be more annoyed of their silly antiques, grandparents who yell, "I'll Kill You" when they do something wrong. Because they are ignored, neglected, unloved.
I have this one boy who is in my class. Now here comes the bragging, old grandmother stories part which you all love to hate. His name is Rashid. Oh, that aint his real name anyways. I get it changed due to protection and privacy. Why Rashid? EH HELLO its my blog, sukati I la Rashid ke Arshad ke Irshad ke.
So apparently Rashid lives near my house and my parents know his and whatnot. In fact, I've known Rashid before I went to his class the other day. Rashid lives with his grandparents and is known to be a rascal, all naughty and what not.
Now I was just the teacher on training. I know nothing about Rashid. At least that's what I thought when I went to his class that day.
He was in the last class.
He behaved. Of all the things in the world that he can do, he behaved. He volunteered to read, to act out in the little sketch I had for them,and he behaved. I was touched, because then he wasn't the naughty boy I heard. Not at all.
Maybe because I give my attention to him, because then, he wasn't any rascal, any naughty kid, he was my student.
Because then, he wasn't the student from the last class. He was my student.
They're all children after all. Give 'em a tad bit of love and attention and they'll be alright. I promise.
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