4 BATTANI 2019

This is a long-overdue appreciation post dedicated to my 4 Battani students.

This year marks the 10^th year of my teaching career. And in 2019, I had the good fortune of teaching 5 Ibnu Sina, 5 Razi and 5 Biruni. Though these classes differ in their language abilities, I loved teaching all of them. You need to have chemistry with the students in order to enjoy teaching the class and I was fortunate in this regard.

But 4 Battani was another matter altogether. Although I was their class teacher (on top of being their English teacher), they drove me crazy every single day. To compound my misery, I also taught them Civics, so I had to see them multiple times per week.

The problem was, the class was extremely noisy and I always had the feeling like I was talking to myself because no one was paying any attention. It was incredibly frustrating. No amount of yelling, begging, emotional-blackmailing or other strategies (subtle or otherwise) seemed to work.

Their other subject teachers seemed to be having a tough time as well. Like a support group, we often exchanged horror stories to make ourselves feel better.

Things took a turn for the worse when I said or did something to Iman (one of the chief troublemakers) which started a cold war between us. At first, I ignored him as a means of punishment but realizing how childish that was, I tried to mend the situation. Things gradually improved but still a gulf had opened up between us and I thought it could never be bridged. See, I had taught him when he was in Form 2, so we go a while back. We used to get along fine before this mysterious falling out happened. At the height of the crisis, there were times when I caught him looking at me with unadulterated hate.

 One day, I was explaining some things to another person when Iman called me repeatedly: “Teacher, teacher, teacher.” I shushed him, finished my explanation, before turning to him and said (while shaking his shoulders): “Apa dia Iman? Kenapa? Kenapa?” We both burst out laughing at my exaggerated manner and the last traces of the bad blood between us seemed to evaporate away.

After news of my impending transfer spread, the whole class wrote me messages that made my head spin. What? You guys actually liked me? Why did you make my life so miserable my job so hard then?

For the record, I didn’t leave because of them. It was just time for me to move on after 10 wonderful and bittersweet years at Melawati.

Anyway, after transferring to my current school, I came back a week later in order to celebrate Raya with them. It was the best farewell party ever. The kids brought a cake and lots of food. The boys sang songs and turned the class into a mini concert. Some of them gave speeches that teared me up a bit and we took lots of photos and boomerangs.

Ironically, it took my going away to repair the relationships between me and my students. Since my transfer, we played bowling together, they came over to my house for Raya, and we even went hiking together. They’ve renamed one of the splinter chat groups Syada’s Family and have taken to calling me Mummy.

We’ve come a long way indeed.

I’m writing this story so that, whenever I have other difficult students whom I feel like strangling, I will hang in there and not give up on them.

"I’ve come to a frightening conclusion that I am the decisive element in the classroom. It’s my personal approach that creates the climate. It’s my daily mood that makes the weather. As a teacher, I possess a tremendous power to make a child’s life miserable or joyous. I can be a tool of torture or an instrument of inspiration. I can humiliate or heal. In all situations, it is my response that decides whether a crisis will be escalated or de-escalated and a child humanized or dehumanized."

-Haim Ginott     

You're put there for a reason

In Hollywood movies, whenever a character is laid off, he or she will be shown exiting his/her former workplace, carrying a box full of stuff. One box. That's it.
That always strikes me as odd. That's all you have at your workstation?

After working at SMK Taman Melawati for 10 years, I still haven't completely cleared my workstation. I had always teased Kak Intan for being a hoarder. But since moving to another school and having to clear my stuff from the staff room, I realised that I was one as well.

Years of handouts, past-year questions, files, workbooks, stationery & reference books needed to be sorted and packed (or thrown) away. I did several trips back to Melawati to do this and yet it is still a work in progress. I came back so often that a student of mine, Adam Malik (whom I always seemed to bump into), remarked: "Teacher tak nak pindah kan sebenarnya..."
Rauf, a former colleague, said something similar: "Hah, menyesal la tu..." 😂

It has been one month since I first started working at SMK Seri Ampang (or better known as Ampang Road Boys School [ARBS]) and whenever I meet friends or former colleagues or students, I will be asked: "Best tak sekolah baru?" or other iterations of this fundamental question.

Truth be told, I miss Melawati terribly. During my first week at ARBS, I couldn't help but compare everything against Melawati (e.g. the school buildings, the landscaping, the canteen, the students' proficiency levels, etc.). I also miss my colleagues, especially my close friends, Kak Safrina, Kak Fidzah & Saiza.

I was struggling to adapt but I never regretted my decision.
I've always believed that Allah desires every facility for me and that He plans in my favour.
So, though the adjustment period has been rough, I'm constantly being given reminders that this is the best path for me.

Once, the reminder came in the form of a colleague saying, "Takde yang sempurna". She said this after she had asked me to compare and contrast my former & current school.
Another time, it was an Instagram post with the caption: "It is time to let go of the past. Make way for the good that Allah has in store for you and be thankful to Allah for it."

Whenever these moments arrived, I was stunned momentarily and grew more convinced that leaving was the right thing to do.

It happened again today. One of my current students, FA, has been absent from school for a long, long time and is about to be served the third warning letter. When I asked him about it, he opened up about his complicated family & financial problems. Reading his messages nearly made cry in the middle of attending a course. Sometimes, you really cannot fathom what these kids are going through.

Later, I met Kak Fidzah & Kak Saf for our weekly coffee session. I told them that I wanted to help this kid but I didn't know how. I find it unfair how certain kids have the odds stacked against them while others have all the advantages & privileges at their disposal.

Then Kak Fidzah repeated what was said to her when she first started teaching in Melawati:
"Syada, you're put there for a reason. Maybe you're exactly the kind of teacher those kids need."

I don't know whether that's true or whether I'm up for the job but I'll try 😢