Delima Diaries: Struck by a Pen

   Being with 2 Delima is always a challenge. I never know what to expect, no matter how carefully I have planned a lesson.

   Last week something rather funny and more truthfully painful (for me, anyway) happened. The bell signalling the end of my two periods with 2D had rung, and I was sitting by Mat Syaf and observing while he finished his work. He was rather quiet that day due to his own actions and I felt rather sorry for him.

   Meanwhile, Haslina and the other three girls were, as usual clamoring around me and fighting over who was going to take teacher's things up to the staff room. Haslina had taken possession of my stationery box and was going over the things in it and tidying them up (a habit she had taken up recently). She was standing (or sitting, I can't quite remember) right beside me and was engaged in trying to get the lid of a red pen off the bottom end. It was rather tight and she struggled with it for a few seconds when suddenly it came off and wham! struck into one corner of my left eyebrow. I was quite shocked by the sudden unplanned 'attack' and the sharp pain led me to give out a cry of pain.

   I immediately pressed my palm over the wound and put my head on the desk. My head was reeling a bit from the shock and it was honestly quite painful. The girls were crowding around me and trying to get a look at my face. When my head had stopped spinning I lifted my face and gingerly touched the area where I'd been hit. Horrors! There was blood! I had no tissue on me so I made do with the inside part of my headscarf.

   The news spread like wildfire among the children. Quite a while later, when I'd had a chance to sit down and relax, I discovered the wild stories that the children had spread, like how I had got into a fight with Haslina which ended in me being viciously attacked by Haslina with a pen. It turned out to be a rather funny incident and I couldn't help but laugh about it.

   Haslina herself was quite unaffected by it. I suppose she is still too small(?) to know how to feel guilty, because while I was washing the blood off my face (okay, don't worry, I didn't lose that much blood, haha), she innocently spoke one of her favourite sentences, "Teacher, I only brought RM 1 to school today..."

   Who knew teaching eight-year-olds could be such a dangerous occupation?

   p.s. I made sure to tell everybody that it was an accident, because it certainly was. Haslina may be problematic sometimes but an accident is an accident.

Delima Diaries : Of Pencils

   My pupils eat pencils. Figuratively, of course. Since the start of the year, I've gone through at least 7 boxes of pencils. Most of them never bring pencils to class, and if they do, they'd lose them in five minutes. They don't seem to have an appreciation for their own things. If they lose something, it's either borrowing from somebody else or simply buying a new one. And then losing it all over again.

   That's how 2 Delima is. In fact, that's just a tiny piece of what defines 2 Delima.

   My pencils either go missing. The ones that come back are either broken into two or three pieces, or are whole but with the leads inside broken, or split into two,etc. Some of them even look as if they'd been chewed on.

   You may say, why pamper these children? I should be strict and insist that they bring their own pencils. Well, I've tried and it doesn't work. I'm just not at the level where good teachers are yet. I feel that what's important is that pupils are able to do their work, and if it means I should bring pencils, then I will.

   A month ago, I stumbled upon twelve boxes of pencils sold at around RM 12.00 (less, I think). In exasperation, I bought the whole lot. 12 boxes times 12 pencil equals to 144 pencils. That should last at least three months, I thought.

   I'm happy to report that after two weeks, I've only has to use and am still only using one box of pencils. All twelve pencils from that box are still in good condition. None is missing. Only one has a broken lead but it's still usable.

   I guess 2 Delima has grown up a bit. Maybe I'm getting better. I don't know. What I do know is that in this profession, you should never, ever give up. Never. Ever. Your children need you. You need them too.

My Pupils - 2D

   I enter smiling.

   I leave ten years older.

   2D. Everyday after leaving their class, I'd sit back and stare into the air, thinking of how and what i could possibly do to manage them. They are a handful. No, I take that back. They are a hundred handfuls! (If that makes sense). I'm too tired to write a detailed story on them, but here's a few details tat might help you picture what they're like:

   1. They walk on the desks. Yes. When I'm in class. I can't chase them around in case they trip and fall. They're nimble too. They run around on the desks as if it's what they do everyday. Wait. They do do it everyday.

   2. One boy (WMDA) treats me like... well, like I'm not his teacher. He hangs on to my hands as if they're branches. He just will NOT listen to what I say. He likes to pretend that he's sick and exaggerates and puts on acts all the time. Sometimes it's funny. At times.... arrrggghh!!!! His books are clean as slates. He has done any work at all. He cheeks me.

   3. One girl (H) is a bit strange. Some teachers call her 'special'. Well, some of the special things she's been doing in my class:
- going through my stuff without asking for permission
- walking on the desks, and running away from me (nimbly too!) when I try to catch her. I'm just afraid that she'll fall and hurt herself.
- following me around after class, and when I tell her to go back to class, she sticks her tongue out at me
- these few days, she's been dabbing paint on her hands and going around trying to dab paint on everyone else. One day I caught her going around the class, intending to dab blobs of paint on every desk. I caught her before she managed to complete this interesting ritual. Every time she dabs paint on her hand, I have to drag her to the toilet and help her clean them off, because she also puts them on her lips and I'm afraid she'd swallow them. She gets paint on her clothes, tudung, kain. She seems to enjoy the ritual of dabbing paint on her hands and having me to take her to the toilet to help her wash them. Every time we go to the toilet, half the class would tag along. This morning, I ended up singing "This is the way we wash our hands, wash our hands, wash our hands" with them. At the girl's toilet.
- She hasn't quite developed... well, any embarrassment. She lifts her kain, showing her (thankfully) shorts underneath. Thank goodness for her shorts. She keeps pulling off her tudung too.
- For the most part of my classes, I run after her. During the last fifteen minutes or so, after I've manged to 'catch' her, I'd make her read or write or do something, and she does them all surprisingly well.

4. As soon as they see me come in, they'd either ignore me or start running around. They shout, kick each other, jump on the table at the back of the class, play with the brooms, and they find it fun to kick just about everything they can get their hands on. Crushed tin cans (new ones everyone I enter), bottle caps, erasers, even crumpled up paper.

5. There's no table for the teacher in their class. instead, there's this trolley with a vase on it. Today, they climbed up ad began pushing each other around.

6. While I'm teaching or looking at some pupil's work in front, half the class is either running around at the back or running in and our of the class.

7. I've tried the Silent Treatment. Only worked for a few minutes. I've tried shouting, scolding. They're not afraid of me. I try coaxing, bu I have to do it pupil by pupil. It works, but while I do it, they others kick up chaos around the class.

8. Nearly everyday, at least one kid will cry. They don't cry silently. It's usually an all-out, I-want-everybody-to-know-that-I've-been-wronged sort of crying.

   And yet, even with all that, I still want  to find a way to make them interested to learn. I've found some to be such sweethearts, and in the two weeks  that I've been with them, most have started doing their work. They still run around and fight, but at least I go back with books filled with some written work. At least I know that a few can read. They're just kids, most come from difficult family backgrounds. They need my help.

   I didn't write all of this with the intention of complaining. I just want you to know that being a teacher, especially when you're just starting out, is not easy. If you're going through difficulties in managing your class, know that you'e not alone. Know that other teachers face problems too. Know that you will one day work them out, though you may have to work (really, really) hard to do it.

   I have such a long way to go. I don't know how I'll manage to cope with 2D but for now I won't stop trying. I want people to stop saying, "2D? Ahh... they've always been like that." "Unmanageable." "Hard to get through to." And the lot.

   2D.

   *collapses in exhaustion