jeudi, août 25, 2005
Le rebelle
The rebel.
Today during Chemistry tutorial, my tutor looked up to see our soccer star classmate entering the class halfway through the lesson, having just arrived specially to attend her lesson. And somehow, she noticed it before any of us did.
"Wow. We have full attendance today."
Everyone looked around. She was right. We were all there.
For the first time in months. We laughed.
If there's anything I'll remember my Junior College class for, years after I've forgotten about this scholarship, it's that we've almost never had full attendance throughout our second year. The last time I remember having full attendance was when we'd had our class photograph taken -- even then, all the absentees actually had to be called and rushed to school after 9am because it was the last chance we had to get those photographs taken.
When I look at that class photograph -- which looks absolutely beautiful -- I remember rushing out of bed after receiving a call myself and grabbing a cab to the school front gates (it's the only way in during school hours; the other, more accessible gate is locked) and running up to the atrium to be greeted with applause by my waiting class.
I look at that photograph and I smile. We had full attendance that day -- for approximately half an hour. Because to celebrate the rare occasion, a few of us guys promptly left to watch the premiering Star Wars Episode III: Backstro-- sorry, Revenge of the Sith. And that was the end of our full attendance. That's how elusive it is.
And ever since that day until today, we never had full attendance. Until today.
Because I finally came to school.
That's right. I haven't been going to school. At all. Until Tuesday this week, I had not attended lessons for at least three weeks, four if I'm not mistaken. Instead, I've been in my room almost constantly, revising nonstop for the coming Preliminaries and almost never leaving except for the occasional evening jog or trip to the supermarket.
The best part of this whole fiasco? My tutors don't care. No anger or outrage or disappointment. Apart from a bit of playful ribbing, none of them has actually chastened me for vanishing for a whole month.
And I'm grateful. I'm very grateful: grateful that my tutors have such faith in me, that they believe I knew what I was doing when I did something so outrageous. They're very special.
But oddly enough, it's not my tutors who're outraged. It's other students. Almost every other scholar or classmate or schoolmate who's heard of my now seemingly legendary exploits (I have no idea how knowledge of my absenteeism had spread so far; everyone I met on my first day back seemed to already know what I'd done) has been far more outraged than my tutors were. Which is strange because you'd think my tutors would be the ones to have more to be pissed about than them. But it's students who're outraged.
You know why? I think they're outraged not so much because I'm hurting myself by being an idiot and skipping classes, but more because I challenged the norm and survived. I rebelled against the rules everyone else has been shackling themselves with, even when they wished they could break free as well. I lashed out and refused to conform. And I'm still alive to tell the tale.
Granted, I've been extraordinarily blessed with some of the most understanding tutors ever. But that didn't mean I absolutely knew I'd be safe. That didn't mean I absolutely knew what I was doing. I didn't. I knew I was taking a huge risk -- calculated, but a risk nonetheless.
But I did, and I survived my gamble (so far). I've always refused to conform to rules and ideas that I felt ridiculous or unreasonable. Going to school when it was a waste of precious time that could be better spent revising all day in my room felt like lunacy. And now that I've gone back to school, it feels more so than ever before. By attending classes, we were never sure if we would actually be doing anything as useful as self-revisions (we were actually quite sure -- and quite right most of the time; but I digress). By waking up early, we deprived ourselves of sleep which we would feel compelled to make up for when we got back. By traveling to school, we tired ourselves and almost always ended up taking those naps that almost always last longer than we intended, wasting more time. By distracting ourselves with homework and assignments, we lost the careful direction and scheduling of our revision plans (if we'd bothered to schedule and direct in the first place of course).
I looked at the costs, the benefits, and my own sheer laziness, and promptly decided I wasn't going to bother with school anymore. No one would force me to walk a path of their choosing. No one would force choices upon me and convince me that those were the only choices I had available.
I would make my own way. I would make my own choices. As I always have and always will. And I haven't regretted it.
Yet.
Commentaires: 0
Today during Chemistry tutorial, my tutor looked up to see our soccer star classmate entering the class halfway through the lesson, having just arrived specially to attend her lesson. And somehow, she noticed it before any of us did.
"Wow. We have full attendance today."
Everyone looked around. She was right. We were all there.
For the first time in months. We laughed.
If there's anything I'll remember my Junior College class for, years after I've forgotten about this scholarship, it's that we've almost never had full attendance throughout our second year. The last time I remember having full attendance was when we'd had our class photograph taken -- even then, all the absentees actually had to be called and rushed to school after 9am because it was the last chance we had to get those photographs taken.
When I look at that class photograph -- which looks absolutely beautiful -- I remember rushing out of bed after receiving a call myself and grabbing a cab to the school front gates (it's the only way in during school hours; the other, more accessible gate is locked) and running up to the atrium to be greeted with applause by my waiting class.
I look at that photograph and I smile. We had full attendance that day -- for approximately half an hour. Because to celebrate the rare occasion, a few of us guys promptly left to watch the premiering Star Wars Episode III: Backstro-- sorry, Revenge of the Sith. And that was the end of our full attendance. That's how elusive it is.
And ever since that day until today, we never had full attendance. Until today.
Because I finally came to school.
That's right. I haven't been going to school. At all. Until Tuesday this week, I had not attended lessons for at least three weeks, four if I'm not mistaken. Instead, I've been in my room almost constantly, revising nonstop for the coming Preliminaries and almost never leaving except for the occasional evening jog or trip to the supermarket.
The best part of this whole fiasco? My tutors don't care. No anger or outrage or disappointment. Apart from a bit of playful ribbing, none of them has actually chastened me for vanishing for a whole month.
And I'm grateful. I'm very grateful: grateful that my tutors have such faith in me, that they believe I knew what I was doing when I did something so outrageous. They're very special.
But oddly enough, it's not my tutors who're outraged. It's other students. Almost every other scholar or classmate or schoolmate who's heard of my now seemingly legendary exploits (I have no idea how knowledge of my absenteeism had spread so far; everyone I met on my first day back seemed to already know what I'd done) has been far more outraged than my tutors were. Which is strange because you'd think my tutors would be the ones to have more to be pissed about than them. But it's students who're outraged.
You know why? I think they're outraged not so much because I'm hurting myself by being an idiot and skipping classes, but more because I challenged the norm and survived. I rebelled against the rules everyone else has been shackling themselves with, even when they wished they could break free as well. I lashed out and refused to conform. And I'm still alive to tell the tale.
Granted, I've been extraordinarily blessed with some of the most understanding tutors ever. But that didn't mean I absolutely knew I'd be safe. That didn't mean I absolutely knew what I was doing. I didn't. I knew I was taking a huge risk -- calculated, but a risk nonetheless.
But I did, and I survived my gamble (so far). I've always refused to conform to rules and ideas that I felt ridiculous or unreasonable. Going to school when it was a waste of precious time that could be better spent revising all day in my room felt like lunacy. And now that I've gone back to school, it feels more so than ever before. By attending classes, we were never sure if we would actually be doing anything as useful as self-revisions (we were actually quite sure -- and quite right most of the time; but I digress). By waking up early, we deprived ourselves of sleep which we would feel compelled to make up for when we got back. By traveling to school, we tired ourselves and almost always ended up taking those naps that almost always last longer than we intended, wasting more time. By distracting ourselves with homework and assignments, we lost the careful direction and scheduling of our revision plans (if we'd bothered to schedule and direct in the first place of course).
I looked at the costs, the benefits, and my own sheer laziness, and promptly decided I wasn't going to bother with school anymore. No one would force me to walk a path of their choosing. No one would force choices upon me and convince me that those were the only choices I had available.
I would make my own way. I would make my own choices. As I always have and always will. And I haven't regretted it.
Yet.
Commentaires: 0
0 Comments:
