"But I was more at home in my father's world. People like Mr Heck Tate did not trap you with innocent questions to make fun of you; even Jem was not highly critical unless you said something stupid. Ladies seemed to live in faint horror of men; seemed unwilling to approve wholeheartedly of them. But I liked them. There was something about the, no matter how much they cussed and drank and gambled and chewed; no matter how undelectable they were, there was something about them that I instinctively liked... they weren't --



'Hypocrites, Mrs Perkins, born hypocrites,' Mrs Merriweather was saying. 'At least we don't have that sin on our shoulders down here.'"



-- To Kill A Mockingbird, Scout, Chapter twenty-four, page 240.



Something about the last class left a bitter taste in my mouth as I contemplated this, while simultaneously attempt to mentally calculate the probability of me getting A1's in everything, while half-listening to JL's lesson.



I do not rescind my earlier statements. Yes, I admit I could have been more tactful about it. I was in a highly emotional state as I sat down and typed the following, and I know I will be held accountable for my words. But I do not regret it, because I was perfectly honest. I live by my convictions, and die by it. I know I am a hypocrite, all people are, but I do try to be less hypocritical and be direct, irregardless of whether it hurts the person's feelings or not.



Okay, to deviate a bit, let me relate to you one of the workshops in CAP I participated in. The teacher (Mr Courttia Newland) was telling us to relax and let loose our creative selves. I cannot recall much of the lesson, but I do remember tearing up my work in frustration when I judged it to be terrible, and he telling me gently not to tear up work, because it is essentially part of ourselves as writers, but that is irrelevant. The point of this little story is that, one of his prompts was, "What is the one thing you would rather die than to lose?"



I sat there and thought. Was it family? Friends? My soul? My eyes fell on the pencil clutched loosely within my fingers, and it struck me. No, there's a single thing that I would rather die than to lose - my 'voice', my inner creative self, my opinions and thoughts and dreams. There is simply no point in living if I cannot find the words to express myself, or to tell m loved ones how much I love them, or scream shrill words of desperation and hate, or even comfort in whispers. I would rather die before losing the right to speak my thoughts freely.



I know this is the recipe for chaos if everyone had the right to speak freely. Racism and prejudice would colour our words without any filter, and sexual terms would wrench their way into the hearing of innocent ears. But an honest world - for once, no more societal expectations of being respectful to elders despite them behaving ungraciously in public. Don't lie and say that I am being impertinent -- it is true. How many old people have you seen spitting in public, or teachers behaving ... (cannotthinkofadjective), and many others behaving like chimpanzees run loose from the zoo? Misbehaviour is common (I do it too!), and it is human to err, but just because some of them are older than us, we have to pretend that we didn't see anything?



That's one thing I don't really understand. Does justice not prevail? Why do we have to play by these invisible codes, set by faceless men whom we do not know? Isn't this how prejudice continued, with people just following conventionality like blind sheep?



Yes, I have absolutely no authority to voice my opinion on teachers as students. But I have the right to an opinion. Schools appear to recognise this, for they hand our survey forms to us. If we base our arguments on 'she has no authority whatsoever to make a conjecture...', then we would be a backwards society. Critics cannot exist, for the ordinary Joe is NOT a governor, so he cannot comment on world issues. That reviewer is NOT a movie director, or actress, or even a fashion designer, so he or she cannot comment on how terrible that was. You see now? It's the same thing with constructive criticism: even if my readers or audience are younger than I am, coming from all walks of life, they may be uneducated or perhaps not particularly inclined to literature. But I still pay attention to their critique, because everyone has a valid point of argument. Everyone has an opinion and everyone can judge for themselves whether something is good or bad. Even the cleaner down the block can tell you whether the American government's latest move in healthcare was a right thing to do or no... he is entitled to it and is simply stating his views from what he knows.



Likewise, I am simply stating my views from what I know. I never pretended to be a professor or an academic. I love English and I pay attention to how words are pronounced, and I make a conscious effort to speak and write it well. I can tell when the pronunciation is bad, or when a person's attitude is bad. I can tell what separates a good teacher from a bad teacher by comparing him/her to the ones I have had before.



We students do not go out to pick on teachers, we want to learn. I want to learn and be the best. All in all, it's a game of respect -- you respect me and I will respect you. You know why Mr Ahmad is so well-liked? He respects us, and is extremely patient. From the past few terms he has taught my class, he has never lost his temper once. Even when the noise level gets a bit uncontrollable, he waits, patiently, and tells us nicely to quieten down. We listen, or at least most of us do, and all in all Literature lessons are highly enjoyable, inspirational and motivating.



Mr Davamoni too. Although the people of 2 HM 08 got a bad impression of him, he has ability and skill, as well as passion. That is what counts. So far, he has not taught me, but in the weekly meetings with him, coordinating the CAP training programme, I can tell he is passionate, from the numerous portfolios accumulated over the years from students to the enthusiastic air he carries. His desk is always cluttered with literature materials and english stuff for his classes. Of course, the sec four's opinions helped too.



One more example. Aside from all the inspirational teachers I have met (such as Mrs Pereira and Mrs Tan (chem teacher), etc, names slipped my mind I am so sorry teachers), there is one very memorable english teacher I had last year. Mr Chris Lim. Despite graduating from one of the best schools in Singapore (Raffles Institution!), and having a really strong command of English, he is NEVER proud or conceited. He interacts with us and being our form teacher last year, he actually tried to tear down the walls between teacher and student, trying to understand us and be approachable. He has sincerity -- and I can tell from his well-intentioned (but rather boring) grammar exercises he forced us through, the GP he photocopied and passed to the entire class in order to brush up our English, and his honesty. I remember his dry wit and interesting lessons (complete with that seemingly bottomless pool of vocabulary, from then on I vowed to be better and worked doubly hard on compos) actually made me want to pay attention, and look forward to them (the fact that I liked English probably helped).



Those above are my understanding of what a good teacher should be. They respect us, and we respect them. They do not try to deprecate our intelligence (all bad teachers tend to do this, treating us like complete idiots), and instead of working against us and forcing us, they work with us. They lower themselves to our level and try to push us up. I understand that teaching is a difficult thing to do, what with the added responsibilities and talking to distracted teenagers who would rather be elsewhere, attempting to connect to different minds and instill passion in the subject, but then again it is a profession for a reason. It is respected for a reason. All new teachers may nor necessarily be bad -- Mr Chris Lim was 'new' when he came in and taught us, but he still succeeded.



Good teachers are truly deserving of all respect I could give. If you find that you cannot connect with others or if you are arrogant / unable to conduct yourself well (e.g. swaggering into classrooms, speaking broken English despite being an English teacher) then teaching is not for you. (Yes the broken english thing is not only present in CCHMS, but also in other schools...delicious irony, really.)Please find your path in life which would suit you better. I sincerely wish you the best of luck in your endeavours.



I know I might one day look back at this entry and laugh at my blatant stupidity, but this is me. This is me then, and this is me now. I will have matured over the years and would probably look at these in shame, but I will accept it. (Like my bad poetry. I still wince whenever I stumble upon one) I am learning, still growing, still maturing. We all are. Even the oldest and wisest sage of time would still have much to discover even after the end of his life. I am acutely aware that there is so much more I don't know, that the mysteries of the universe is more than what my tiny head can grasp. The more we know, the more we know we don't know. There. Now that I have professed my ignorance, will the proud men profess theirs so we can shut this rather pedantic discussion and get on with learning?

P.S. One thing I don't understand. Why do people deliberately go out of the way to insult others? (Yes, the quote wayyy up is relevant to somebody I know?) Is it to get a false sense of justification or...oh wait I am insulting someone! Crap, I'm a hypocrite.

Obviously I answered my own question. Ha. Ha.

P.P.S. I try not to lie. I live by my own morals and I'm a competitive, cold-hearted bitch. I never once pretended that this was some sort of analysis or was factually accurate. Opinions are unreliable for a reason, as your social studies teacher will tell you. However, as a student, I do get to mix around and hear other's opinions. I know who and how many people dislike a teacher, and why. I can tell you that JL is about to become an integral part of history on the dislike wall, because I have never seen a class (or to be accurate, classes) so united in one purpose. Take it or leave it. I don't care. Besides, how silly this will all seem if it is dredged up to the principal. 'My student wrote on her blog how much she disliked me!!!' From blog-hopping I do as a result of boredom, a hatred of some teachers are common, and often a common topic of debate in blog posts. Maybe it makes me the smaller person, but it's okay. It's my work, and if you don't like it, well, you can always choose not to view it, I didn't force you.

I would be more than delighted to entertain you if you have a different opinion, but do support it. Flames simply show the dignity and intelligence of the poster.

I'm planning to WORK HARD FOR O LEVELS FROM NOW ON, AS WELL AS FOR CAP.

JIAYOU CHANEL.

I need to write. Write better, writer more originally, write more poetry, moer prose, more meaning, the world between my palms and the taste of emotions, happiness, sorrow in my tongue. I need the ink to flow viscuously on paper and communicate my soul in these ink-marks, imprinting them on the hearts of fellow humans. I need it. I need to succeed, I need to be the best, I must be able to weave the world at my fingertips.

Refer to CAP 2010's theme: word weavers, world bridgers.

I want to get the humanities scholarship!

http://www.moe.gov.sg/education/scholarships/moe-preu/humanities/

I WILL work extra hard for my humanities and participate actively in my CCA! You see, the requirements are extensive, and terribly difficult to meet:

Eligibility

Candidates should:

be Singapore Citizens, Singapore Permanent Residents, or children of Singapore Citizens

• Have done consistently well in school, obtaining outstanding results in the 2008 GCE ‘O’ Level Examinations / equivalent results based on IP school’s internal assessment;
  (I don't like the sound of this...'outstanding' sounds very...minatory...
• have a good record of co-curricular activities (Hoshit I'm fucked.)
  
• have successfully been admitted to one of the Humanities Centres (?)(What's a humanities centre? Must ask Mr Ahmad.);

and not currently be in receipt of any other MOE scholarship (except EESIS and ESIP)

You reckon I could just appeal with my CAP certificate. Must take creative writing mroe seriously from now on and graduate from the program with flying colours!

Okay, will not play anymore, I shall study hard!

You know your password is too long when it takes you FOUR tries to type it in correctly and log in.

*uncomprehending audience stare back blankly8

Uh, nevermind.

Okay. On to the list of things I really hate (UPDATED! NEW AND IMPROVED RECIPE!)

1) Twilight. (With full reference to Stephenie Meyer, a SadoMasochist. Get the joke?)
2) Yang Meh. (POP THE CHAMPAGNE PEOPLE SHE RETIRED!!!!111oneone)
2) Miss Lim, the empty cockleshell with no flesh between her temples. The fella who WOULDN'T GRADE MY COMPOSITIONS BECAUSE THEY WERE TOO LONG. ARGH THAT PISSES ME OFF AGAIN.
3) A Math
4) Chinese, Physics
5) When I can't find my goddamn things when I need them, only for them to appear, rather innocently, beneath my nose.
5) Children. Old people. Screaming fangirls. (Yes I know I was once a kid and will grow old in the future, but I am a misanthrope. I hate people, period. So don't piss me off, because I don't know what I will do if I get very angry. Probably murder)
6) Hated words i.e. 'sparkle, chagrin, banquet hall, whichever overused word SM has a propensity to use
7) JOHNATHAN LIM (Did I spell that right? Do I care? Not the least!)

Doubtlessly you will find my regaling the reasons why I dislike him so entertaining.

If you don't, or even if there is a remote possibility you are the abovementioned person, let me tell you a secret, darling.

Oh, no, it's not 'fuck off'. But it's a very astute guess, my dear. Rather, I would like to indulge you with a little known command -- Alt+F4.

Sayonara!

If you are not the abovementioned person, then read on. I know I have stirred your curiosity, a boiling vat now in the arterioles of your soul. YES I KNOW THAT THE SOUL IS NOT A VALID ORGAN, SHUT UP.

Okay, now into my discursive essay why I dislike him.

A rather squat figure strolls into the classroom, with a walk reminiscent of a yakuza. You catch an eyeful of his face and balk. Please, please, don't walk in my class, you pray to all gods and goddesses existing in the world, hoping against hope that someone, anyone would rescue you from looming drudgery and fill your soul with the warmth of English.

Preferably a hot / smexy teacher. Well, it doesn't hurt to look at pretty things when you're bored.

Where ever God is, he appears to be taking a permanent vacation to Hawaii, because The Horror walks into your class with great, lumbering footsteps that will make even Bottom the craftsmen disgusted.

"Guhd Mourning, class."

Oh fuck.



-
This couldn't get worse.

You were wrong.

Immediately he launches into a convoluted praise-session, extolling the virtues of VJC and his running speed.

You eye at his waist size and quietly snigger. Then you proceed to count all the pronunciation errors he makes.

Hey, it's entertainment. Better than the crap he is sprouting.

Unfortunately poor, naive, hardworking Chanel is paying attention because her faggot of a conscience won't let her dose off. Apparently there's only an option for shutting down during A Math, Physics and Chinese.

However, somehow you manage to get snatches of the conversation, like how chicken rice is supposedly better than nasi lemak.

Wut?

-

Chanel tried to have a debate with Lim. Chanel suceeded in wasting about 15 minutes. Chanel is sad because she lost, and she hates losing. But she loses gracefully, unlike people whose arguments spin out of control into other territories. Chanel is objective in her arguments.

Chanel cannot say much about Lim.

Chanel just realised that Lim teachers are 50-50, a wildcard on their teaching abilities. So far, she has had 2 sucky lim teachers (Mr and Miss Lim, my god they would be better halves), one okay lim teacher, and 2 good lim teachers (Mr Chris Lim and my tuition teacher).

Okay Chanel is tired of speaking in third person.

-

1 more thing. WTF (Why The Fuck) should an English teacher be making basic grammatical and spelling errors in his corrections?

And saying, 'Nevermind, if it's me, I can make them.'

Irresponsible dog owner (I say this because there are a lot of dog owners near Chung Cheng who let their dogs shit all over the pavements, thus we have to walk on the main road to avoid stepping on them). They will have bad karma, and thus be sentenced to an afterlife soaking in a dog-crap sauna, eating dog crap, sleeping in dog crap and doing whatever activities with dog crap! That is holy justice!

After seeing so much of him, I think I do not want to mention him anymore.

Sometimes I look at all the trashy shoujo manga I read (mainly to laugh at stupid girls and their infatuation...tsk tsk), as well as the Seventeen magazines I buy, and wonder why I even bother to read such literary trash. Girls, come on, there's so much more to life than clothes, jewelry, cosmetics and guys! (Like money! $$$$$$ And chocolate, and poetry and prose and villianelles and sonnets and sestinas and freewriting and...)

Then I realise,

Sometimes you need to read brainless stuff so it doesn't tax your mind too much.

It's always fun to laugh at the stupidity of lesser beings, or at stupid things in a magazine. It helps that it's grammatically correct...it's not that funny when you read awful fangirl poetry -shivers-

Oh yeah, random fact, but did you know you could get addicted to lip balm? Basically lip balm contains come stuff that will actually make your lips drier, thus you use more and establish a sort of psysiological dependency on it. You can't live without it, it's a vicious cycle.

Sibeh cool. Thank goodness I am lazy and kept on forgetting to apply lip balm my mum gave me when I was younger. You see? Forgetfulness is a good thing!

Oh darn. The presents were so nice it made me feel guilty.

Chanel, yo selfish little bitch...your friends spend on you yet you are like a miser hoarding up your money...not even bothering to wish them happy birthday...

Guilt guilt guilt guilt guilt...

All those whose birthdays I missed: I AM SO SORRY OMIGOSH. I shall start organising a gift list and start buying.

Hopefully there won't be a a need to give again in Christmas, because I am a conventional, boring gift-giver whose presents are normally chucked out or unused. Yeah I have weird taste... I felt so guilty last night that my friends knew me so well. ARGGHHH...

Okay shall not dither further. Must find a (cheap) place to buy the stuff...cannot exceed budget...

(yeah my junk food appetite is pretty extensive)

Bye!

(You didn't read the previous post. I wasn't in m right state of mind, my depression demons got to me again.)