I remember sitting down on the wooden bench, drawing a bunch doodles as sobbing goes on on the opposite bench. I didn’t know much about the person in front of me, nor did I care about whether I felt sorry, awkward or sad for him. I just sat there waiting for him to cool down. When the crying did stop, I lowered my sketchbook to asked whether he was feeling better, followed up with why he was crying. I was rushing, and I know that, but he needs to know what went wrong, so wrong that it leaves a cheery person to cry. In the end, I didn’t get an answer-back nor did I leave when he did. Instead, I watch the stars above me, thinking about whether I have helped him. I don’t know, and I still don’t know. I just like to think that I did. Like when I held the door every time or the times when I tuck the chairs in after class. Because they say, and I know, that no act of kindness, no matter how small, is ever wasted.

You know when at the young age of maybe nursery or primary, almost everybody wants to be a teacher. That was me. I don’t remember why, but maybe it is because that was my first exposure to an occupation. As I grew up, I drifted away from that aspiration, thinking about other possible interests, ranging from art, badminton, math etc. I even considered being a psychiatrist after meeting a school counsellor. But somehow, and maybe it is just my calling, that my thoughts on aspirations always end up being teaching related. To tell the truth, I can actually list a lot of reasons for me to be one. I didn’t want anybody to go through social exclusion like I did. I didn’t want people to feel confused after lessons like I still do. I want others to have fun and enjoy the subjects that I liked. I want to be someone who creates impact, and I want it to be by teaching future generations.

This aspiration of being a teacher actually came apparent to me when I was studying about renewable resources in Grade 7. I remember feeling my suffocation to breathe as I watch the documentaries and read the facts on who is unfortunate. There was this sense of helplessness guilt in me, asking myself why I was even living when others are living worse than me, why I am spent on so much when others children are forced to work and die of a painful death at young age. I didn’t participate much for those lessons. Only when the teacher pulled me aside to talk did I finally realise what I was trying to do: I was running away. If I don’t want such things to happen, then I have to be the change. She told me, “That is the purpose of you here.” Since that day, I have been contemplating, from politics to medicine to policing. I thought hard and came to the conclusion of being a teacher. If I could teach others about this, then I could help them. I could teach them how to break free of their poverty cycle. I could teach them how to help their community. I could reach far, sending off hundreds of students each year, knowing that they will bring a positive change to the world.

In order to build up my confidence and my communication skills, I have been actively trying out a leadership role in academics, activities and service. For example in Green Fingers (soon to be named 0-WES [0 Waste Event Supporter], I have been taking on roles such as the manager for a video promoting our service despite how nerve-racking I felt speaking to an audience. With my experiences of learning Chinese being rote learning, I was in a conflict of how I should teach my mentee beginner Chinese in Chinese Chat. In addition, I find it hard to explain my thought process to others, mostly relying on diagrams or examples. It is definitely going to be a hard journey for me, but I can’t help but just smile at the thought of standing in front of the classroom teaching students who are enjoying the class.