Returning to my alma mater never felt so different yet familiar at the same time. Given the opportunity yet again to serve the student body, I found myself receiving more than I could give.
The Homecoming...
In an attempt to a sabbatical, I found myself spending half of my apparent ‘holiday’ in my alma mater. The decision to sign a contract with my secondary school as a relief teacher happened on a whim, which I believe stemmed from my childhood desire to become a teacher. With little to no experience in class management, I took on my first babysitting duty to my juniors. I was surprised when they listened to my demands, thanking God for my 7 years at the National Police Cadet Corps. I put into practice what I did to my cadets then, putting on a brave front; one that particularly shouted “do not disturb, beast is angry” when briefing. Many ‘first’ days later, I found myself paraded with youths who carelessly shouted my name along corridors, never stopping until I greeted them in return. Apart from the deafening welcome I received from my juniors, most of whom do not yet know who I am, the heartwarming catch-ups with former teachers also affirmed my decision in returning. In my familiarity with the school compound, there was unexplainable confidence in the way I manoeuvred from class to class, radiating the assurance to students that I was no stranger. Approaching them casually yet firmly when first entering the classrooms also made relief duties much more bearable for me. Though the students spent most of their time bargaining with me to mingle with their friends amidst the pandemic, the discussion is usually stirred to what a student called, ‘a debation’ (aka debate) about my age and where I came from. I would always brush it off with a simple, “I came from Peicai,” only for them to ask follow-up questions. The interrogation never ends, but the students never failed to erupt into a fit of laughter. Home never felt so different yet familiar at the same time, seeing in my students so many of my own batchmates, as if they were living the moments we used to have.
The conversations...
Woe is me who entered the school compound at 0800 in the morning, only to remember that everyone else entered much earlier than I did; students expected to enter by 0740, while the form teachers prepared for the day ahead by 0700hrs. I sometimes wondered how my old self could be ready to head to school by 0645. The mornings were constantly filled with warm greetings from teachers with their coffee in hand. In the day, my former teachers & I had the opportunity to catch up with one another over the short intervals we had in-between our classes. With the notion that I was an aspiring teacher, my lifelong educators had these to say:
"It doesn't matter where and how you start."
In my conversation with my form teacher, student leader mentor and endorser, I shared my worries of being inferior to my peers, possibly venturing into a less ideal career path compared to my friends (we all majored in Life Sciences). I also shared that despite my insecurity, I was more than willing to sign this offer as I got to do something I was passionate about - teaching. Mr Seow simply said, “Just remember this one thing from me. How did you start in Peicai?”
That was it.
Memories of my time in secondary school replayed in my mind - from the hustle of climbing to different streams, the adrenaline I got from taking up leadership positions to the accolades that I chased throughout my four years. I started from the bottom, took ownership of my own learning, and persevered through. I trust that my former teachers would willingly vouch for me and share the same for my achievements. Though I may feel like I am starting from the bottom again, feeling more inferior than everyone else; progress is what matters. We are in it for the long run. Our careers are a marathon, the consistency is essential & the starting line was nothing but a start to something greater.
"To know you have done all you could."
Catching up with my Squad officer, mentor of four years, and Physics-miracle worker, we both came to a consensus that I never once shared my aspirations as a teacher, but Mr Yeo noted that perhaps my leadership abilities could potentially direct me to somewhere great. He checked in with me about my plan of life (which I’m sure he uses as a bio-marker to ensure that I’ve got my life together) and further shared what I could expect as a new teacher. Aside from the skills that I have to acquire by experience, he also shared that youths these days are much different than before. “It’s also important to know when to let go, to know that you have done all you could as a teacher,” he firmly shared. Being under his watchful eyes for years, I was often called out for holding on to my mistakes and failures for too long, preventing myself from moving forward. I trust that he wanted to make sure I heard this again so that I wouldn’t burn myself out on the constant doing. There is always a need to remind working adults to just. rest., that even something so essential can often be forgotten. I was also reminded that the desire to want to control how things turn out may not always end up in a win-win situation. To know when to let go. To recognise that you have done enough.
The lessons...
Transitioning into becoming a full-blown adult with the overwhelming pressure to eventually know what to do upon graduation, I was faced with a lot of self-doubts and insecurities - some recurring, some new. I was providentially given the opportunity to serve my alma mater again, to return home to the very place, surrounded by the very people, that was pivotal to my growth. Here, I was reminded of who I used to be, not in a negative light, but in a comfortable reminiscence. Traces of my 15-year-old self could be seen and felt as I walked through the corridors and past the walls my friends and I used to walk by every day. Every teacher’s surprise of my presence brought me so much joy, being reminded of their support throughout my adolescent years. Some teachers were witness to my rebellious phase, only for them to shower me with affirmations upon my graduation in the year 2015. “I saw it coming,” “I knew you could do it,” “See, I told you!” resounded from the past. I was affirmed not only of who I was - a persevering, respectful, responsible, honest, disciplined, and excellent Peicaian - but who I continue to be. Not one bit was I told of as “different”, what they saw in me when I was 15 still remained when they look at me now. I was still the ‘Ronaleen’ they looked after & supported all these years.
As absurd as it may sound, the youths whom I accompanied in their classes gave me assurance to my feelings of inadequacy. These students wanted to know so much about me, they chased me down the corridors until I acknowledged their greetings, and cheered whenever I entered their classes. “Miss Ron, do you remember me? Because I remember you,” “T-cher, can we be friends? I want to be your friend,” were some things I often heard. These mere questions and remarks reminded me of my feminine genius - the essence that I struggle to accept. St. John Paul II’s 'Letter to Women' echoed in my head whenever I had such conversations with my students. At the end of every day as a teacher in my alma mater, I was affirmed of my being, my beauty, and my identity as a daughter of God.
I was clearly sent back to this redemptive place as part of my preparation for His mission. I was called on to earth for a purpose; a goal much greater than myself, and this mission that He is preparing me for is one that will allow me to be the extension of His hands and feet. Of course, the Lord does not give me a task that He knows I cannot do. I am given what I am capable of, and He has entrusted to my care the people in my workplace, those of whom I will influence. Being re-affirmed of my being is not the end of my journey of seeking, but rather a milestone in this time of pilgrim on earth. Moving on to a different phase of my life, He knew I needed time to re-find myself again. Amidst the pang of stepping out of my comfort zone, and into adulthood, I needed to revisit the year that I first felt His presence in my life. On this rock I stand, with hundreds of saints that will continue to support me & pray for me, in the hearts of my educators who stood up for me and cared for me much more than I will ever know.
To my teachers who have been part of my growing years,
you continue to be in my heart & prayers. I am sure to speak well of you when I have completed my mission here on earth. Your love and wisdom will continue to be my driving force as I prepare my heart for every of His mission.
