"But it never seems to be there when you want it," Black Treacle by Arctic Monkeys.
So I'm undergoing my prac right now. Three weeks in and I would say that I'm adjusting well to the teaching life.
The class that I got is great. They are on-task most (if not all) of the time. Misbehaviour among the students is rare. And in this I am very fortunate to have received a very well-behaved classroom.
Hearing stories from friends who got other schools (especially all-boy-schools. Not to be sexist, but yeah) and the trials they have to go through every time they enter class can truly shake you.
An example would be the situation in one class where, whenever she turns her back on the class to write on the board, a fist fight would almost certainly break out. What would you do and how would you continue the lesson?
Friends have admitted to wanting to quit teaching altogether because of the challenges they go through when entering classes. But these friends, it's not that they feel like the students cannot be helped. Not at all. It's just that they feel that they aren't doing a good enough job to be seriously considered in the profession. One friend expressed that she feels bad for the students for getting her as their teacher, since she doesn't feel that she is what the students deserve. The students deserve better. The students deserve the best. And she didn't feel that she was anywhere near good enough.
And to be honest, I sort of feel the same way too. The students in my class are good. They're great, even. They would go on to achieve great things in the future, I'm sure of it. But will I be a teacher who pushes them to their limits and help them achieve things they never thought they could? Or will I be just some other teacher who they'd forget the name of as soon as I/they leave the school? And if I look in the mirror and see the latter, then I may as well not be in this profession altogether. Let someone better suited to become the former lead the way.
But realistically, as our lecturers are quick to point out, it's still early days for us. Three weeks into the job is nowhere near a long-enough period to determine whether or not you'll be a good teacher in the future. They tell us to give it a few years. And as long as we pass this prac duration, we'll have a chance to prove ourselves to ourselves. That we'll be better teachers than we thought we would be, and still want to improve, for the sake of our students.
It is within my hopes that in a few years I will be able to be that teacher who inspires my students to greatness, to bring them to the thresholds of their own minds, to invite them to challenge their notions of what is right and wrong and develop their confidence to speak their minds, but not before honing those minds to understand that the world works in mysterious ways and that asking questions and looking for the answers is more important than the answers themselves.
I'm asking a lot of myself. Whether it's too much, we'll see.
May peace be upon you.
Cheers!
Tuesday, July 23, 2013
Sunday, July 21, 2013
The Alchemist
"Hello mister, pleased to meet ya," Big Jet Plane by Angus & Julia Stone.
So I finished reading The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho the other day (yeah, I is slowpoke, I know). Basically what the author intended for the reader to get out of reading the story is that one must be bold enough to pursue their dreams and be confident that the universe will conspire to make your dream a reality, as long as you keep pursuing it. A very "The Secret" kind of concept, if you will.
I found it inspirational and it was a kick in the backside for the little-old-me who is too lazy to get off bed and do anything outside my comfort zone. The story is definitely capable of being life-changing, but I guess I'm too deeply set in my recliner that its effect on me wasn't to that extent.
As mentioned in the previous post, I'm on GoodReads, so I entered this book in my "read" shelf. I made my way to the "reviews" section of the book and I was surprised to find as many negative reviews as it did. This is one example:
"I'm not sure that I can capture my utter disdain for this book in words, but I'll give it a shot. I read this book about three years ago and just had to re-read it for book club. It was a steaming pile of crap then and, guess what? it's a steaming pile of crap now."
Then a thought struck my mind. Mr Coelho, he wrote a book about pursuing your dreams and he did exactly that: he wrote lots of books. And now look at him; an incredibly successful author whose books fly off shelves worldwide.
Now we take a look at these negative reviewers. They spit out bitterness and criticize the book for not being good enough for them, and where are they now? A commenter on GoodReads. I'm sure they are the envy of the world.
What I'm getting at is it doesn't matter whether or not Mr Coelho actually does produce steaming piles of crap in written form. What matters is that he was/is audacious enough to pursue his dream and persist with it to the end. He is now one of the most successful modern authors alive.
Those reviewers, they read the book. Sure it's definitely within their rights to dislike the book. They can dislike any book if that makes them feel better about themselves. But the thing is, they didn't get what the book was trying to say. The book asked them to get off their perch and actually start doing something. Something that would occupy their time so much it would leave them no time to post negative comments on a book-sharing social media site.
They didn't get that. And they put in the time, thought and energy to post something so resentful and bitter that only revealed more about themselves than the book they were reviewing. I feel sorry for them. They could be so much more if they took the effort to do something about it. But Paulo Coelho is still up there being a best-selling author, last time I checked; and any credible author out there right now certainly does not post such reviews on an app called GoodReads, so they can't be very successful authors who publish books any better than the book they bashed, could they?
I'm not saying that I am successful by any measure. If anything, I am still struggling to find my own personal legend. But I try not to be bitter about people who are successful. Even if I am, I certainly don't post it online, because that would only reveal how pathetic I really am.
Even if you do feel pathetic, you don't need to reveal to the whole world that. It serves no purpose. None at all.
Main point, you can dislike any book/music/person/thing you want. But if that thing has something beneficial, take it. Use it to propel yourself to become better and hopefully more successful. Don't, at any cost, just sit there being bitter without doing anything about it. I'm telling this to myself more than anyone else, really.
May peace be upon you.
Cheers!
So I finished reading The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho the other day (yeah, I is slowpoke, I know). Basically what the author intended for the reader to get out of reading the story is that one must be bold enough to pursue their dreams and be confident that the universe will conspire to make your dream a reality, as long as you keep pursuing it. A very "The Secret" kind of concept, if you will.
I found it inspirational and it was a kick in the backside for the little-old-me who is too lazy to get off bed and do anything outside my comfort zone. The story is definitely capable of being life-changing, but I guess I'm too deeply set in my recliner that its effect on me wasn't to that extent.
As mentioned in the previous post, I'm on GoodReads, so I entered this book in my "read" shelf. I made my way to the "reviews" section of the book and I was surprised to find as many negative reviews as it did. This is one example:
"I'm not sure that I can capture my utter disdain for this book in words, but I'll give it a shot. I read this book about three years ago and just had to re-read it for book club. It was a steaming pile of crap then and, guess what? it's a steaming pile of crap now."
Then a thought struck my mind. Mr Coelho, he wrote a book about pursuing your dreams and he did exactly that: he wrote lots of books. And now look at him; an incredibly successful author whose books fly off shelves worldwide.
Now we take a look at these negative reviewers. They spit out bitterness and criticize the book for not being good enough for them, and where are they now? A commenter on GoodReads. I'm sure they are the envy of the world.
What I'm getting at is it doesn't matter whether or not Mr Coelho actually does produce steaming piles of crap in written form. What matters is that he was/is audacious enough to pursue his dream and persist with it to the end. He is now one of the most successful modern authors alive.
Those reviewers, they read the book. Sure it's definitely within their rights to dislike the book. They can dislike any book if that makes them feel better about themselves. But the thing is, they didn't get what the book was trying to say. The book asked them to get off their perch and actually start doing something. Something that would occupy their time so much it would leave them no time to post negative comments on a book-sharing social media site.
They didn't get that. And they put in the time, thought and energy to post something so resentful and bitter that only revealed more about themselves than the book they were reviewing. I feel sorry for them. They could be so much more if they took the effort to do something about it. But Paulo Coelho is still up there being a best-selling author, last time I checked; and any credible author out there right now certainly does not post such reviews on an app called GoodReads, so they can't be very successful authors who publish books any better than the book they bashed, could they?
I'm not saying that I am successful by any measure. If anything, I am still struggling to find my own personal legend. But I try not to be bitter about people who are successful. Even if I am, I certainly don't post it online, because that would only reveal how pathetic I really am.
Even if you do feel pathetic, you don't need to reveal to the whole world that. It serves no purpose. None at all.
Main point, you can dislike any book/music/person/thing you want. But if that thing has something beneficial, take it. Use it to propel yourself to become better and hopefully more successful. Don't, at any cost, just sit there being bitter without doing anything about it. I'm telling this to myself more than anyone else, really.
May peace be upon you.
Cheers!
Friday, June 14, 2013
Read Good
"The secrets of the government are keeping you dumb," The End Has No End by The Strokes.
So I was thinking about writing a story tonight, but since it's going to be a longer than usual one and my eyelids are giving up on me, I'll write about reading. Yes, you are about to read about reading. Compelling stuff, I know.
So I have been trying to read consistently throughout the year and I am proud to say that I have read quite extensively, given my lack of reading in the past years. The latest book that I've read is Tuhan, Aku Kembali by Sham Kamikaze and Ainuddin Kamaruddin. It was given to me as a gift, and I finished it in a day. It was a very readable book, not very thick, contains the life story of Mr Sham Kamikaze thus far and how he ditched his earrings for a spot in the da'wah scene.
Right before reading that one, I read the novel Paper Towns by John Green. I won't spoil too much of the story for you, but I will tell you that the hero of the story, Q really gets absorbed into reading a long poem by a poet named Whitman. His understanding of the poem is key in developing his character and the way I see it, shows us how literature, when read carefully and thoughtfully, can not only help us in appreciating the piece of work, but also everything around us.
When we really think about what a piece of writing means, it can have a profound effect on us, and I believe that these effects are what one looks for in any piece of literature. A piece of writing can only be appreciated when we have a connection with its message or its beauty or its essence. And that piece of literature may live on inside the reader, breathing it life even after its demise from the bookshelves, because those effects in the heart of man will affect the way a person views the the things around him or her and alter, however significantly, their decisions in the future, having a real effect on the world.
And that, to me, is the power of literature. It doesn't have to be brilliant and written with bombastic words and too intricate wordplay. It just has to have that necessary message that it wants to carry and convey it effectively to have an effect in the real world.
I am who I am today mostly because of what I have read, either from books, subtitles, song lyrics, articles on the internet, tweets, etc. Imam Hassan al-Banna was quoted for saying something along the lines of "To know a person, look at what he reads". I have definitely misquoted him, but you get the idea, right?
What you read defines you. But what happens when you don't read? Well that's a discussion I'll have to pick up some other time (if ever). Until then,
May peace be upon you.
Cheers!
p/s - I'm on a mobile app called GoodReads. If you have a tablet or a smartphone, try installing it. It's like a Facebook for book-readers where you update what you're reading at the moment, what you have already read and what you intend to read in the future. You can check out your friends' updates and get ideas on what to read next. You can rate and review books too. Super fun stuff. Em, I should probably clarify that this is not a paid post. None of my posts are, for that matter. So yeah.
So I was thinking about writing a story tonight, but since it's going to be a longer than usual one and my eyelids are giving up on me, I'll write about reading. Yes, you are about to read about reading. Compelling stuff, I know.
So I have been trying to read consistently throughout the year and I am proud to say that I have read quite extensively, given my lack of reading in the past years. The latest book that I've read is Tuhan, Aku Kembali by Sham Kamikaze and Ainuddin Kamaruddin. It was given to me as a gift, and I finished it in a day. It was a very readable book, not very thick, contains the life story of Mr Sham Kamikaze thus far and how he ditched his earrings for a spot in the da'wah scene.
Right before reading that one, I read the novel Paper Towns by John Green. I won't spoil too much of the story for you, but I will tell you that the hero of the story, Q really gets absorbed into reading a long poem by a poet named Whitman. His understanding of the poem is key in developing his character and the way I see it, shows us how literature, when read carefully and thoughtfully, can not only help us in appreciating the piece of work, but also everything around us.
When we really think about what a piece of writing means, it can have a profound effect on us, and I believe that these effects are what one looks for in any piece of literature. A piece of writing can only be appreciated when we have a connection with its message or its beauty or its essence. And that piece of literature may live on inside the reader, breathing it life even after its demise from the bookshelves, because those effects in the heart of man will affect the way a person views the the things around him or her and alter, however significantly, their decisions in the future, having a real effect on the world.
And that, to me, is the power of literature. It doesn't have to be brilliant and written with bombastic words and too intricate wordplay. It just has to have that necessary message that it wants to carry and convey it effectively to have an effect in the real world.
I am who I am today mostly because of what I have read, either from books, subtitles, song lyrics, articles on the internet, tweets, etc. Imam Hassan al-Banna was quoted for saying something along the lines of "To know a person, look at what he reads". I have definitely misquoted him, but you get the idea, right?
What you read defines you. But what happens when you don't read? Well that's a discussion I'll have to pick up some other time (if ever). Until then,
May peace be upon you.
Cheers!
p/s - I'm on a mobile app called GoodReads. If you have a tablet or a smartphone, try installing it. It's like a Facebook for book-readers where you update what you're reading at the moment, what you have already read and what you intend to read in the future. You can check out your friends' updates and get ideas on what to read next. You can rate and review books too. Super fun stuff. Em, I should probably clarify that this is not a paid post. None of my posts are, for that matter. So yeah.
Sunday, June 2, 2013
Fictional Character 1.2
"Lelaki, tak guuuuuuuna," Lelaki by Yuna.
He had a love interest. He knew that it was love, not just another crush. He's had hundreds of crushes. Crushes come and go. They're a fantasy, he says. An impossibly perfect version of what the person in question might be, without one ever getting to know the person. And by the simple logic of "if it's not this, then it must be that other thing," he has deduced it to be true, bona fide, pure love.
She wasn't supermodel material, he knew that, but she was still the most beautiful person he has ever set eyes on. Many of his friends and even his family disagree, but he's pretty adamant on this. Ever since she came into his life, it's like girls the world over conspired against him to turn themselves ten times less attractive. But it's not just that she was beautiful to his eyes. She was one of the people whom he felt most in-sync with. She would complete his sentences and he hers, and he would think about a question and she would answer him without him ever asking out loud. They had similar (enough) interests. If they weren't already interested in the same thing, it would take very little effort for him to like what she liked and vice versa. They completed each other. He hated waking up early, she loves it. She needs to get to bed early, he does whatever he can to avoid early bedtimes. Their existence in each others' lives helps them lead healthy lives. He had a feeling that they were made for each other. No other person could make him feel as miserable or as happy as her. She was the highlight of his day. Highlight of his life. It had to be love.
But (there's always a but, isn't there?) he couldn't help but feel that she's too good for him. There he was, as average and plain as a human being can be, with no particular talents, of average attractiveness, introverted and passive. And there she was, the most talented person he had ever met, beautiful, like, crazy beautiful, outspoken, intelligent, kind-hearted, lovable, all that good stuff. How could he ever hope to keep her to himself? How could someone ten times more attractive, smart, funny and talented not be able to spot a gem that was her and take her away from him? He knew that he was no contest to any actually worthy guys out there. He was a loser. Nothing. She was destined for greatness. Not nothing.
And so everyday he lives his life being miserably happy. Happy that he has the treasure that is her. Miserable that he knows, KNOWS that he won't be able to keep her. Not when there's a Joseph Gordon-Levitt or a Redza Minhat out there to pry her away from him with ease. He's just too pathetic to compete. He is unworthy.
He had a love interest. He knew that it was love, not just another crush. He's had hundreds of crushes. Crushes come and go. They're a fantasy, he says. An impossibly perfect version of what the person in question might be, without one ever getting to know the person. And by the simple logic of "if it's not this, then it must be that other thing," he has deduced it to be true, bona fide, pure love.
She wasn't supermodel material, he knew that, but she was still the most beautiful person he has ever set eyes on. Many of his friends and even his family disagree, but he's pretty adamant on this. Ever since she came into his life, it's like girls the world over conspired against him to turn themselves ten times less attractive. But it's not just that she was beautiful to his eyes. She was one of the people whom he felt most in-sync with. She would complete his sentences and he hers, and he would think about a question and she would answer him without him ever asking out loud. They had similar (enough) interests. If they weren't already interested in the same thing, it would take very little effort for him to like what she liked and vice versa. They completed each other. He hated waking up early, she loves it. She needs to get to bed early, he does whatever he can to avoid early bedtimes. Their existence in each others' lives helps them lead healthy lives. He had a feeling that they were made for each other. No other person could make him feel as miserable or as happy as her. She was the highlight of his day. Highlight of his life. It had to be love.
But (there's always a but, isn't there?) he couldn't help but feel that she's too good for him. There he was, as average and plain as a human being can be, with no particular talents, of average attractiveness, introverted and passive. And there she was, the most talented person he had ever met, beautiful, like, crazy beautiful, outspoken, intelligent, kind-hearted, lovable, all that good stuff. How could he ever hope to keep her to himself? How could someone ten times more attractive, smart, funny and talented not be able to spot a gem that was her and take her away from him? He knew that he was no contest to any actually worthy guys out there. He was a loser. Nothing. She was destined for greatness. Not nothing.
And so everyday he lives his life being miserably happy. Happy that he has the treasure that is her. Miserable that he knows, KNOWS that he won't be able to keep her. Not when there's a Joseph Gordon-Levitt or a Redza Minhat out there to pry her away from him with ease. He's just too pathetic to compete. He is unworthy.
Saturday, May 25, 2013
Astro Kasih - Reef Rescuers
"The future, yeah it stays true," Honolulu by The Last Dinosaurs.
Divers surfacing after a round of cleaning up underwater.
Volunteer divers posing with their haul.
May peace and blessings be upon you.
Cheers!
Sunday, May 19, 2013
Debatable
"We will meet your goals!" Jimmy Lovine by Macklemore & Ryan Lewis feat. Ab-Soul.
So earlier today I attended an English Parliamentary Debate between the two top schools in Kedah. I was never a debater, but debates have always intrigued me. How people argue their cases to get to the truth, that's always cool. However, in competitive debates, it's not really about getting to the truth as much as claiming to be right and saying that your opponent is wrong, whatever the case may be.
In the debate that I watched earlier, there was an obvious winner. The team of three consisted of three guys. They had solid arguments and presented them in a convincing manner. The other team, on the other hand was not very convincing. I'm not trying to be misogynistic, but the team did consist of three girls. Their performance made me wonder how they got to the final in the first place. This judgement is based purely on their debating ability and the arguments they put forward. By the end of the debate, I had very little doubt in my mind who were going to win, and I was pretty confident that everyone else on the floor shared my thoughts on this. At the end of the debate, both teams handled themselves professionally, the guys going over to the girls, smiled and bowed to which the girls smiled and bowed back (they didn't shake hands because cooties, duh).
However, when the results were announced, the less convincing team won. You could see that the guys were pretty devastated, from the actual debaters to the reserve team members as well as their coaches. I myself was speechless by the announcement. To me, they were head and shoulders above the other team. How they lost remains a mystery to me.
When the dust had settled, one of the teachers expressed her disappointment with the results to the guys. She mentioned that she might even protest the results by filing an appeal. But then one of the students said "Can we not make a big deal out of this?" and that struck me as being very mature in the face of defeat.
You see, when entering any sort of competition, it should always be your goal to do your best, and when you have done your best, you have reached your goal, regardless of the result. "You don't have to win to be successful" is one of my father's sayings as a coach, and it definitely rings true to anyone who has ever been in competition before. This maxim will make one a humble winner as well an honourable loser. Because at the end of the day you know that you are only responsible for your performance, as the results are out of your hands. They are in God's.
The boys definitely gave it their all on stage. They proved that they were the better team, regardless of the result. They didn't need to win to be better. They had already succeeded, and no scoresheet was going to disprove that.
May peace and blessings be upon you.
Cheers!
So earlier today I attended an English Parliamentary Debate between the two top schools in Kedah. I was never a debater, but debates have always intrigued me. How people argue their cases to get to the truth, that's always cool. However, in competitive debates, it's not really about getting to the truth as much as claiming to be right and saying that your opponent is wrong, whatever the case may be.
In the debate that I watched earlier, there was an obvious winner. The team of three consisted of three guys. They had solid arguments and presented them in a convincing manner. The other team, on the other hand was not very convincing. I'm not trying to be misogynistic, but the team did consist of three girls. Their performance made me wonder how they got to the final in the first place. This judgement is based purely on their debating ability and the arguments they put forward. By the end of the debate, I had very little doubt in my mind who were going to win, and I was pretty confident that everyone else on the floor shared my thoughts on this. At the end of the debate, both teams handled themselves professionally, the guys going over to the girls, smiled and bowed to which the girls smiled and bowed back (they didn't shake hands because cooties, duh).
However, when the results were announced, the less convincing team won. You could see that the guys were pretty devastated, from the actual debaters to the reserve team members as well as their coaches. I myself was speechless by the announcement. To me, they were head and shoulders above the other team. How they lost remains a mystery to me.
When the dust had settled, one of the teachers expressed her disappointment with the results to the guys. She mentioned that she might even protest the results by filing an appeal. But then one of the students said "Can we not make a big deal out of this?" and that struck me as being very mature in the face of defeat.
You see, when entering any sort of competition, it should always be your goal to do your best, and when you have done your best, you have reached your goal, regardless of the result. "You don't have to win to be successful" is one of my father's sayings as a coach, and it definitely rings true to anyone who has ever been in competition before. This maxim will make one a humble winner as well an honourable loser. Because at the end of the day you know that you are only responsible for your performance, as the results are out of your hands. They are in God's.
The boys definitely gave it their all on stage. They proved that they were the better team, regardless of the result. They didn't need to win to be better. They had already succeeded, and no scoresheet was going to disprove that.
May peace and blessings be upon you.
Cheers!
Sunday, May 12, 2013
Fiction Character 1.1
"I can't change, even if I tried, even if I wanted to," Same Love by Macklemore and Ryan Lewis feat. Mary Lambert.
He wanders. He wonders. About many a thing at a time. So many things, in fact, that he loses track and in effect gets distracted rather easily. Too easily. He could be in the middle of contemplating Khalil Gibran, for all he could, and a passing motorbike would make all those thoughts join the carbon monoxide to come up in smoke.
His focus is weak. He can’t pay attention to anything for more than ten minutes. He opens the Pages document on his computer to write something up and is scrolling through his Facebook home in less than two minutes. It not that he wants to lose focus. He just does.
At least that’s what he says to himself. Comforting is the thought of not having control of yourself. You are no longer responsible for your actions when you aren’t in control of yourself, and that’s the way he likes it. Not taking responsibility for himself. For his own development. For the feelings of the people around him. For his relationship with God.
It’s not under his control. If it was, he would be the best human being ever. He would be able to do so many things. He would read a lot more. He would learn how to play every sport that he can. He would pray on time all the time. He would be helpful at every opportunity he can. He would work on his assignments as soon as he receives them and wouldn’t stop until they’re finished. He would proofread his work, thrice, making improvements every time. He would get high distinctions. He would get a first-class degree.
But it’s not under his control. He’s tired all the time, so he sleeps way too much and works too little. He’s too slow a reader, so he puts his books aside. He’s way too busy, so he postpones any actual work until the very last minute. He’s not fit enough, so he doesn’t go down to the field to play any kind of sport. He was always a one-sport-guy anyway. He oversleeps, so he misses prayers. He doesn’t like proofreading his own work, so his first drafts are his final drafts. His EQ is low, so he hurts the people who love him.
Ah, not being in control is the best thing that could ever happen to a person. After all, how can God judge a person for how He has made His creation? These flaws aren’t mine, he says to himself. They were given to me. I did not choose to be this way. If I was born hardworking, then things would be different. But I wasn’t. So I’m not.
And that’s perfectly fine.
He wanders. He wonders. About many a thing at a time. So many things, in fact, that he loses track and in effect gets distracted rather easily. Too easily. He could be in the middle of contemplating Khalil Gibran, for all he could, and a passing motorbike would make all those thoughts join the carbon monoxide to come up in smoke.
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