These days I wake when it's still dark, have breakfast with my school-going sister, and take the bus with NS boys towards yishun. Work clothes are kept conservative, personality is reined in somewhat. The pen I hold the most now is a red one; the tone I adopt a stern-friendly one in the face of hoards of hot-blooded adolescents not sure what to do with their restlessness and newfound lust, and girls unsure of the attention they are receiving from the rascals. I am called 'Cher a million times a day- one of the best nicknames ever.
FUN, FRUSTRATING TIMES.
The system has reduced the beauty of what language really means (the love of reading, of telling stories, of understanding each other through words) to commodified vocabulary lists to be memorised and applied in contrived manners, comprehension questions to be categorised and tables of letter-writing formats. This is what is focused on as exams draw near. Throw them with a Revision Package, why don't we? These contain proverbs like Still Waters Run Deep, when some don't even know that it's = it is. D'you think, if teachers somehow manage to show children, from a young age, that reading can be one of the most beautiful things -to escape into another world, to hear a tale, to feel things you can hardly feel in daily existence- then the love for english would become a most natural thing? A neighbourhood school student can love and appreciate harry potter as much as a top school student can, and if he can't do as well for the exam because he may not grasp grammar or sentence structures as well, his love for the language will probably mean he will be more patient and open to learning these. Thoughts?
"My childhood is was a happy one but when I was younger, my grandma used to chase me with the cane."
I wish I could join the boys in having rubber band wars!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (You've never seen such experts in making bullets, manipulating rubber bands around their fingers, shooting secretly)
Instead, I confiscate them for my infinite bangle.
CHER, HE SHOOT ME FIRST!!!!!!!!
p
p
P.S. Trying to relief-teach english in a school where hardly any students speak proper english has only increased my loyal love for the glory of Singlish. Maybe one day, there will be Singlish Lit and the first book will be one that can make Singaporeans feel like never before; it will replace the pro-pah British English used to describe Singaporean life thus far. Written in a stream-of-conciousness way, no heed will be paid to singular/plural words, proper use of past tense, or varying vocabulary whatsoever. It would be a thoroughly real feeling. Sample portion: Mummy ask me if I want to eat dinner then I say I want lah but I kind of shout. Then after that she get angry and say I always think her dinner not nice so she go toilet and cry then wah lao, I don't know how to feel so I just lock in the room and cry also.
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