When I grow up, I’m going to be a teacher.
Not that I wanted it though, it’s just something I applied and got.
My notion of “growing up” is graduating and landing a job. And that’d be next year.
However, my thoughts ran wild as my future life flashes right in front of me after a long chat with one of my good friend, and also my super senior who is now a teacher in SMK Gunsanad.
With great urgency in her voice, Santhi told me that most of her friends got posted to nasty places without even the basic necessity to live on. So she urged me to do what she did to get a place in my very hometown, which is to meet the big guns of education when I’m in my senior year, before submitting my posting form. She told me to join her in SMK Gunsanad as the school lacks TESL teachers.
I told my mom about this and she was psyched. She was ready to charge the big guns with her aunt (who happens to be the former secretary of the D.O. who of course knows virtually everyone in the government office and their additional dirty laundries). Then it hit me: one, my mom always, always gets her way, one way or another. And two, if that’s the case; I’m going to be working in my very hometown in SMK Gunsanad, one and a half year from now.
Suddenly everything became so real. What I have imagined, dreamt and fantasied had just became a solid reality, like floating dreamy clouds condensing into cold water. There won’t be that imagination of me going to school in a sampan and wearing Japanese slippers to class if I got into an extremely rural school. Nor there would be no more of that thought of living in my apartment alone and bumping into my students in Razzmatazz if I got into a school in KK.
All I can think of now is my life as a teacher in Keningau. How I’m still going to stay at my parents’ house and give them around RM300-RM500 per month so that I won’t look like a parasite. How I’ll be driving the old beater of a Kancil to work instead of my dreamt Celica. How I’m going to pay for the apartment in KK which I won’t be staying in. How I’m going to give tuition in my parents’ kitchen. How non-existent my night life would be ‘coz all they have in my hometown is drinking and karoke spots. And how I can’t go to town in my boy shorts and tank top because the principal of SMK Gunsanad is a Johorian who doesn’t allow his teachers to wear short pants when going to town; even if you live next door to Hiap Lee and realized you’re out of salt while stir-frying your kangkung and just need to run to that supermarket to grab it.
On the bright side, I still can play Guitar Hero in my brothers’ room.
I’m not however believing that it’s a sure shot of me getting into SMK Gunsanad, but there is a solid chance. In fact, I don’t mind being thrown anywhere, I’m up for the challenge of working somewhere out of my comfort zone (or so I think).
But that’s next year. How could I be thinking of all these things when I can’t even get my lesson plan assignments through? For all I know, I might not even make it to graduation: got knocked up, died, swept away by a prince, won the biggest jackpot in the world to support me for life etc – gosh I hope not, except for the last two though.
I still have one and a half year left before I grow up.