TIC Teachers – don’t give up; TIC Students – try to see why we love this school.

Hi. My name is Jennifer Lau and I’m a TIC graduate in year 2005 – 2006. Some of you may remember me; I’ve always been active during my time there and even after graduation I have always been eager to know how things went. After recent conversations I had with some teachers, there are a few things I wanted to share with my teachers and my schoolmates.

 

We need good teachers
I remember reading an essay on a conversation between a parent and a high school teacher. I can’t recall the exact details but the general flow is this: while the teacher was trying to point out the problems the school was having with his son, the father was offended, thought he knew better and demanded the teacher for his qualifications because he doubt he was qualified to pass judgment on his child. The teacher paused for a second before replying courteously.

“Yale University; graduated masters with honors.” (Yale is an Ivy League school in the US.) More stunned than embarrassed, the parent couldn’t help but ask:

“So what are you doing as a high school teacher? With your qualifications you can easily go anywhere!” The teacher just smiled serenely.

“Don’t you think your child deserves the best?” he asked. The parent admitted he never thought of it that way before.

In today’s society we rarely acknowledge the fact that teaching is a sacred duty. There are people who opt for a teaching career only because of the stable income, but there are also others who are dedicated and genuinely want to educate the young, i.e. the good teachers. However, for many reasons, they get discouraged and slowly saw education as “a job” and nothing else.

This situation can be directly compared to people consulting a doctor who couldn’t care less of their health; it’s the worse outcome a teacher and his students can get. Ideally in a good teacher, I look for dedication, ethics, and a role model. Having the skills to actually convey messages comprehendible to students is a great bonus, but I think those three are most essential for the makings of a good teacher.

  

Students can recognize good teachers, and want to be inspired (by them).
As someone who has been a student for almost her whole life, it had been very easy for me to differentiate good responsible teachers from those who’re just in it for the money and politics. Believe it or not, students do appreciate teachers for their work. Drawing from personal experience in university, I was a completely different person compared to when I was in TIC. I eventually found out why.

I expected to be inspired – because I was fortunate enough to have that throughout my teenage years, surrounded by terrific teachers in TIC, and university turned out to be such a big disappointment. I think I can represent fellow schoolmates when I say this: We all want to be inspired in one way or another. It’s not always about knowledge but also wisdom. Don’t be discouraged when some of us don’t act that way. We may not know it ourselves but deep down we do want inspiration. Don’t only notice a few bad representatives and give up on everyone of us. It’s just so easy to focus on the bad and neglect the good. Please don’t give up hope.

 

Why is TIC special
This school, beyond doubt, is a very special school. However exactly because of that, TIC always faced an internal struggle of its own identity. Believe me when I say a lot of alumni like myself are extremely worried about the future of TIC.

Our school motto covers almost everything an individual should value and learn in life – the importance of health and sportsmanship; of humanity; of creativity and appreciation; and of wisdom and knowledge. The special thing about TIC isn’t only that most students here (or at least those who used to study here) believed in the whole TIC concept; that though it is important, Academic Excellency isn’t Everything in life, but so many teachers here believed in TIC too. Not only those who teaches Visual Art or P.E. but also others who taught in other subjects, like Physics for example.

TIC offers you the freedom to choose where you want to excel. You don’t have to dream about becoming an athlete or a designer, you can show and develop your interest in art and still do well in other fields. TIC is a rebellion of modern Hong Kong society; by trying to subconsciously educate those who belong here that Money and Academic achievements aren’t the only things that matter. This is a haven for those who dared to think differently. The work done by TIC teachers are beyond admirable and special compared to those in other exam-result-driven schools.

 

TIC Today
As alumni, there’s very little we can do to help TIC to recreate its former glory. The great sculpture right in front of the school entrance is the representation of what is expected from those who go and went to TIC; a equal balance of art, sports and traditional education. Tip the scales and the balance, i.e. TIC would be ruined.

The major problem the school has always faced was whether TIC should put a stronger emphasis on academics because they believed that was what students and parents ask for. School authorities have been continously stating that students here tend to do well only in art or sports, and neglect their studies. As alumni, we see the gradual decrease in the number of Art and Sport classes, drastic deterioration in performance on both Visual arts and Sports, and the type of students who enrolled to TIC only came because it’s an EMI school and a safety net in case they can’t get into elite schools.

Visual art students no longer have to hand in sketch books because according to their parents or themselves, too much time and effort is wasted on drawing and painting; P.E. students can no longer pass fitness test because deep down they don’t really see the point of training unless they want to be a professional athlete and have complained to the school, consequently no longer required to join any sports team. This sort of thinking spelled the demise of TIC.

The authorites need to see that TIC, as a concept, is possible by seeing actual results from students. What is scaring us is that students themselves don’t believe in TIC or simply don’t care.

 

What today’s TIC teachers and students should do
What I ask from TIC teachers today is don’t give up on TIC, because you are the permanent force that can help reform TIC. You helped mould and shape TIC; You did it once, you can to do it again. TIC needs you; we alumni need you. Don’t give up or lose faith just because TIC is at such a disappointing stage right now.

What I ask from today’s TIC students is try to understand what this school is about and become a true Ti-Ian, because you are the strongest force in TIC. Try to look at the school motto in the hall and ask yourself if you are doing what TIC is trying to teach; and what are you doing to get the best of what TIC has to offer. There is only so much the teachers can do if you don’t help yourself. Work together and recreate the TIC that teachers and we alumni have seen before. TIC isn’t just another school you go through in life; it’s a group of like-minded people you choose to join for life.

There are numerous reasons why TIC is much treasured in the hearts of so many, and I sincerely ask (and beg) all of those there not to let TIC become a memory of the past.

Fam(c)e

I was taking a shower yesterday when I heard kids singing the national anthem (I presumed that they were playing too, cos with the laughing and all). I know it shouldn’t have, but that freaked me out.

 

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I do understand; I have been warned and so have expected it to come… just not so soon. But I guess now is about time and that’s what made me blue…

 

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Today is National Day… other than a day off from work it meant nothing much to me. In certain ways I am patriotic but not feeling particularly close to China; I just didn’t necessarily want to celebrate. People’s birthday I buy a cake, but the birth of a republic, hmm… I bury a cake?

 

Instead of staying a couple more hours in bed, I decided to catch an early movie (because it’s a lot cheaper and I’m broke… why am I always broke?). There were two choices: either District 9 or Fame. Both I know would make me upset in different ways. The former, I expect after viewing would trigger a want for discussion; a heavier subject matter but somewhat less personal. The latter was more dependable on personal preference and experience; more about sharing than discussing. Woke up moody, I ended up watching Fame.

 

There weren’t many dancing scenes (unlike Step Up); singing scenes (Sister Act), musical ensemble (er… School of Rock?) There was a print-making scene which caught me by surprise… but essentially it has almost everything I love doing in it. Plot-wise Fame wasn’t brilliant in an obvious way; what made it special was that unlike many movies concerning Art, the messages were very realistic. I guess it was upsetting for a few reasons; one was that it reminded my not being able to concentrate on only one interest, therefore not being really good at any particular aspect… but it couldn’t be helped. Second was more of a hit of reality, that school life was really over; that kind of fun and hopefulness you get only while you’re still in school is lost. There were so many things I haven’t had the chance to experience in school… but I know I had to leave one day and I’m at a different stage right now, so… so… …

 

So after awhile of walking around stores and no luck in finding work clothes or bag, I went back home and played around my face a little bit more; that morning I decided to “make an effort”, i.e. put some make up on, before going out because it was such a long time since the last time I did (January for AP? For someone who rarely puts on make up, I’m surprisingly at ease sticking fake lashes on my eyelids…). There are times I caught myself wondering what happened, or what changed because I could remember distinctly a girl who got caught wearing “make up” to school (it was just brow liner…), perfume, skirt too short heels too high, and took an interest in clothes… actually, what happened That Year?!?? Anyway I simply missed the process of “drawing my face back on” and I missed my face with make up on.  

 

So from very basic eyeliner, to day make up and night make up… I put on a pair of big earrings and a dress, pulled up my hair and stared at the mirror (I sound so self obsessed, ha). The reason I was staring was because it’s literally the first time I saw myself as a sophisticated twenty-two-year-old (without wearing a suit) instead of a girl who’s still lingering at her early teenage stage. There’s a pretty queer reason why I don’t put on make up (I make the tiniest things such a big deal), and that’s because it makes me “unreachable”.

 

A made up face is like a mask; you’re accentuate the features and hiding the flaws, but (on other people) the flaws create character, it shows what a person has gone through; laugh lines, dark circles, freckles… everything. Somehow, making your face perfect, even though you can see your expressions and everything, is still an actual mask. It’s such a good and conventional way to hide. I also didn’t enjoy the plainness I felt after washing my face.

 

There’s also something about a face being untouchable after carefully putting make up. Your face has foundation, your eyes has eye shadow… I don’t even dare to touch my own face when I have all that on me. There is this thing my mom does only when she tugs me in bed (ages ago) or when I’m so sick that I have to stay in bed (rarely), is she slowly and gently brushes my face with the back of her hand, and I loved it because I could actually feel the tenderness and love she had for me (which wasn’t something I often felt when I was younger). The element of touch and feeling is thus very important to me. It’s like having a pretty doll that you cannot touch in case you break it… I don’t like thinking I risk ruining my face or I have to wash my hands every time after I touch my face.

 

Out of the subject… but anyway it’s been a nice quiet day; just nothing “national” about it.

One year of my life.

Another overwritten Ugly memory.

 

On my way to the East gate I passed by the Main Library. It was late at night and no one was around, so I stopped there for a moment to take everything in; the democracy walls, the benches under the big tree, everything was so quiet… suddenly I thought of the last three years of my life, my choices. My official last day of school was last Friday, and after exams and presentations in May, I will be leaving HKU and I’m looking forward to that. It was funny actually, for almost my whole first year when people asked me where I go to school, I avoided giving an exact answer, throwing stuff like “just another local university; it’s all the same”.

 

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I remember my registration day and my forgetting to be happy. Things were great on paper; I got in to the one of the finest school in Hong Kong, people kept on promising me how great university life would be, and my friend I knew outside school was also admitted to the same programme. We were ushered around, getting our student id photos taken and people kept on handing flyers and random publications of the school. I couldn’t seem to join in everyone else’s enthusiasm. It was when I sat down, staring at this computer magazine and listening to the busy people chattering, that I had this feeling that I wasn’t going to like my time here.

 

I was working full time in my parents’ office since I finished my A-Levels. I remember that I wasn’t allowed to go to the orientation camp because “it was a waste of time and the office needs me” and me hating the fact that I couldn’t make these sorts of decisions myself. I was looking forward for school to start because I didn’t want to be under my father’s eye more than necessary. It came out as a shock when I was expected to continue working even after school starts. I tried going to the office early to finish most of the stuff before going to school, but my father said I must come back during office hours when there were people around. So between classes I kept on going back and forth from school to the office and spent an hour on communing. Most of the time I couldn’t finish my work within those few hours, so I skipped classes very often. The lectures I did attend I dozed off. Needless to say I couldn’t catch up with my school work and I was starting to fear that I couldn’t even graduate.

 

Everyone was used to me disappearing. My friend was getting tired of taking care of me because I couldn’t hand in my assignments and knew nothing about deadlines. After my first exam I was terrified that I was going to be kicked out of school. I remember it was around Christmas when I told my father that I couldn’t cope with both work and school. He told me no one goes to lectures, no one has such a hard time as I do, everyone has a job besides school, my work only takes up two hours, and I must be stupid if I have such difficulties. I ended up saying yes I am stupid, but the fact that I’m still flunking my exams doesn’t change so I still think I have to stop working, or at least just come during weekends.

 

Then again the rhetorical question “if I tell you if you don’t work in the office, the place will shut down, would you work?”. After such an “exchange” my brothers and I were supposed to go shopping with my mom. I couldn’t recall what was I thinking or how I felt back then, but I remember not being able to speak at all that day and I made my mom cry because she sees how unhappy I was. Later I came up with the conclusion that Vincent was going to graduate high school soon, and when I get to my second year, he can take over my work in the office and since he’s the brighter one, he should have less difficulties. It was told that my priority is the office not school, but the work I was doing there was nothing someone with a brain couldn’t do, so they can easily hire another person to take my place, since they do pay me salary.

 

During Christmas holiday my workload in the office increased. I was sleeping so hard in class, in the office… my limbs were somehow filled with fatigue for some unknown reason. I remember that particular moment when I was dragging myself on the streets, it came to me I couldn’t remember a time when I didn’t feel physically or mentally exhausted. For a time I blamed it on my dance classes. I know I should stop going because I kept on saying that I have no time, but I couldn’t because the sad thing was, that’s the only place I could stop thinking what a mess I’m in. It was ironic; I felt most comfortable at a place where I didn’t like the people, and back then I still had this urge to prove to those instructors that I wasn’t talentless and therefore pressure. But still it was that one and a half hour, three times a week that kept me sane.

 

I felt like a failure in every way possible. Everyone in school was doing great. I was no one and nothing  I did or thought was of importance. Give me a call and I have to fly back to the office ASAP, regardless of where I was or what I was doing. Everything was my fault because other people don’t make mistakes. I had to take everything in without a word. Even people outside the school or office were trying to prove that to me. Everyone around me keeps on talking to me, pouring into me, but they have no interest on what I have to say. I remember I got this call from a friend while I was in the office. She kept on talking and talking; I couldn’t tell her I wasn’t interested in her trivial details of her life, I stopped her abruptly by saying I have some work to do and I’ll call her later. Then I began to sob, feeling like I was going to burst. Then I met a new friend, she turned out to be the same and while she kept on talking, I wondered why I attract people like that. My father did his bit by reminding me daily how much we depend on the office to do well, and that we could be out of business any time, and many happy thoughts.

 

I remember feeling nauseous whenever I get a threat (when I made a mistake) that someone was going to get physical. I was told if I cannot finish my work in the office within two hours (which was unreasonable, how could you fit a full time job in two hours?), either I was plain retarded or it was nothing a good caning wouldn’t cure. I remember crying silently on the bus, when I was having lunch, for no reason. I remember having this idea, this image on my head, whenever I cross the road at night… I wondered if I swirling in the middle of the street instead of keep on walking, what would happen. In the end of the second semester I stopped going to school but one class, only because it was mandatory for me to show up. I even mixed up the dates and missed going to one of my exams…

 

Summer, I had to go to this workshop in school from 8 to 6 and I had a hard enough time to explain to my dad how it was impossible for me not to go to this workshop even though he could teach me everything because it was a compulsory course and they take attendance. He knew I couldn’t understand my computer courses just by reading the powerpoint notes so he has me to write programmes with a totally new (to me. He was still using ISPF for God’s sake.) language because ultimately the concepts are the same. Soon we learnt that my brother couldn’t get to university and he was going to leave HK for the US. I was beginning to lose my mind because I saw no end to my misery and I knew if I kept on with my state of hopelessness for another year, I’ll go literally insane. Again I told my father I couldn’t work anymore next year because I’m seriously going to be kicked out of school. So he told me to give him all the notes and books I have for my courses and he will teach me everything I have to learn. I was repulsed by the mere idea that me being university and I still needed my father to help me with my school work. What? Why? He told me I couldn’t handle computing because I have no background on it, unlike many of my classmates. I wanted to tell him, some of my classmates don’t have the background, but they get to stay in school and work out things together and ask people. They have connections and I don’t. They get old papers and assignments from seniors and I don’t know anyone…

 

I got him to promise that if I could finish the two A-Level textbooks on computing and answer one of his questions on these textbooks, I can do my studying on my own. I spent three days on it, and then told my dad I was ready. He asked me a question about networking, how e-mails were sent or something like that. I remember saying stuff like TCP/IP, packets… he asked me how were e-mails sent in the most literal sense. I didn’t know how the sockets work, or about sending signals and frames and everything… I couldn’t answer his question. I tried looking for an answer on the books but I couldn’t find it. I told him so and his answer was, I should have found out elsewhere if I don’t completely understand something. I just felt it was unfair. I didn’t have the time to completely understand everything, nor could I memorize everything…

 

I finally decided I can’t take it anymore and told my father that I don’t care about going to the office anymore. I’m going to do my own school work. He gave me an ultimatum. He must help me with my school work because I am his daughter, only if I’m not family will he give up on me. He had me inside his office alone, sat me down and explain to me how useless I am, how incapable I am of handling my school work, how if it weren’t for him, I’m nothing, and that I’m stubborn not to listen to him, how stubborn I was since the day I was born, the stupid stuff I did when I was young… all he wants is best for me. I cried… because he kept on feeding these ideas in my head and I believed him. I’ve been listening to him for 20 years. It was that constant ranting of how useless and what a failure I am that was breaking me, and unlike in the past, when I only had to face him a few hours at night, I face him the whole day for a year and he knows everything that I do and has total control. I honestly believed that I was going to end up picking cardboards, finding old newspapers from trash cans to earn a living, like those old women pushing a cart on the streets.

 

I couldn’t accept the fact that I was twenty and still in many sense controlled by my parents because I wasn’t financially independent. I probably would have long gone if I wasn’t worried about paying my own tuition. Another reason that has stopped me from doing something drastic was because my father was constantly sad, angry, lonely, and I didn’t want to make him feel like I’ve abandoned him. He loved me and my brothers all so much. But at that point I knew if I continue with this life, I don’t think I could survive… I chose to leave and as my mom later quotes my father’s words on how heartless I was because I didn’t even turn back.

 

It seems there are still so many things I left out… the craziness I felt. It all seemed so petty, even when I’m writing all this and it’s like I’m making a big deal out of nothing. I don’t want to come out as a person who complains a lot, ungrateful… but it was a hard time for me, most possibly my darkest year. Fortunately I turned to my aunt and she made my father to continue to pay my tuition. It was such a relief when I got this check for my last tuition bill. I’m going to get my bachelor degree. I’m looking forward to graduation not only because I don’t have to feel like I wasting my time on something I don’t care about, but also I can be truly independent and whatever I do, no one can control my life or my mind anymore.

 

So basically that’s why people who knew me from the past think I am so much different from the person they met; why am I happier, more relax than I used to be.

Future plans

Being myself would be keeping to myself and blocking all ideas from my head @@.

 

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I called some old teachers from high school to ask if they were willing to write a recommendation letter for me to apply for art school. I need at least two letters for the one in Chicago and three for the one in New York. I asked Miss Kwong, Mr. Blyth and Miss Lo. (Probably I should have gone to other teachers with less work in their hands…)

 

I remember worrying that Miss Kwong and Mr. Blyth might not check their emails so frequently and I was going to miss the deadline. But the next day, on my way to meet Bhavna and Samantha (two girls that my brothers and I used to play basketball with in YMCA @@) for a small gathering, I ran into Miss Kwong and we talked for a moment. That evening when I got back home, I got a reply from Mr. Blyth with both Miss Kwong and his details so I could include in my application. That moment I honestly felt God was helping me again, because how lucky can I get? I love you God~

 

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Since I am having doubts, about should I or should I not go for art school, I decided to leave it to God. If art school is for me, then I’d get a place. If I can’t… then I would still leave Hong Kong. If I could find a job in America, Great; if I could find work in London, Terrific; if I couldn’t land myself a job offer, I’d go to Seattle to find my brothers and maybe find work there (or maybe UK, if Edith lets me stay with her and Calvin ^^). Really if it weren’t because of considering really long-term stuff, like heavy taxation, I’d rather go to in America…

 

Anyway I had a good time scaring my mom on the phone two days ago when I told her I applied for a job in America. Shocked her when I told her why I am doing this.

 

It was always obvious that I was the only one who wanted to leave HK for university (Vincent and Steven wanted to stay.). I remember having this strong desire to leave in F.5. But ironically it was me who stayed and my two brothers left for America. My mom said she and my father wasn’t sure comfortable of sending me away alone because I’m a girl (@@!!!!!?!?!?!??!… ==). They wanted me to go with my brothers if any of us were to leave HK ever.

 

Now here I’m going to graduate in May. Originally I thought either I go for a MFA in the states, or stay and look for work in Hong Kong. But the idea of me might being scared of leaving just because I have to leave somewhere I’m familiar with sickens me. Not to mention I don’t want to really Need anyone in order to survive (again, independent issues…). My family and friends cannot always be around when I need them. So before that happens, I should be prepared. I should try going to someplace unfamiliar and see how well I deal with things. Plenty of girls go study or work abroad, so why can’t I?

 

There’s this international trainee programme offered by KONE (a company that installs escalators, elevators… etc @@) that I’ve applied to. The best outcome would be they hiring me, then I’d be able to go to Chicago to work for three months, and then start art school in September.

 

Another good outcome, if my application to the art schools were unsuccessful, I would still be able to find a job in London (maybe I shouldn’t go to London cos Edith and the others would take care of me @@?), earn some savings and maybe try to apply to art school one more time.

 

Dunno when should I tell my dad about my plans. Originally I decided to tell him when I get the acceptance letter from the school or the company, cos I don’t want to give him another reason to convince me how incapable I am in dealing with life without any solid proof that someone out there is willing to give me a chance. Thank God I have my passport with me now ^^.

Ah… I’m so spoiled…

Okay, after this entry I will try harder to write better and organize my thoughts. I know I tend to jump around and wander off to another direction in my writing.

 

And I should control the length of my entries… I tend to keep on rambling on the same ideas…

 

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Wednesday, two things:

 

1. I’ve always had problems focusing. It just never came to me that during test it could get worse. If any of my daydreams were true, then I’ve seen a lot of people within 5 hours by just sitting quietly @@. Too bad I don’t daydream often.

 

2. For the whole week I’ve been looking pale (more than usual), sick and hair chaotic, but right after my last paper for the day, for some weird reason, I actually got some color back on my cheeks. Maybe I’m starting to develop exam allergies?

 

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A lot of people have been asking me what I planned to do after graduation. I thought of looking for a job, accepting the fact that my university life was horrid and that I would never try out school life in America; that I’d probably wouldn’t have another art class ever again, or any chance to brainstorm and be creative; knowing that I won’t be able to learn how to write properly ever.

 

I went to this McDonnell scholarship talk just to realize it was only for Ph. D students (many of us got fooled). Nevertheless, the message was that they were looking for exceptional students and groom them to be future leaders, with the hopes of making the world a better place. And by exceptional they mean academically. Initially I was upset because I thought “okay, so I’m never going to make a difference”. But then I started to get worked up. What does my performance in school have anything to do with me being “exceptional” or with me being a leader? Why must my life be determined by my transcript and graduation….

 

It dawned to me that if I graduate next year; just accept what I have right now and don’t change anything, then this is really It for me. I’m always going to feel like a failure just because I did terribly in school (well, university at least). I’ll always have to look back thinking I could have done better. .. but wait, I’m just 21 and already I’m regretting for what I’ve done in my life? That can’t be right @@.

 

I want to try studying art again, try to spend more time on creative writing, see if I’m not as mediocre as I think I am, and treat my interests seriously. I want to be inspired; to understand who I really am; and what am I made of. I’ve started doing my school-research again, stumbling back to the course content of degree programmes such as the bachelor degree of fine arts. I was thinking, I was suppose to spend 4 years in HKU anyway, so why not I try taking up fine arts instead for a year and decide what I want to do after that? If I’m any good, I might be able to get to a masters program after the first year (if I could build up a superb portfolio @@). Highly impossible, but just a thought. I could always come back to Hong Kong…

 

So the basic idea is, me spending a year elsewhere to try out studying in fine arts.

 

My concerns, as always, are about time and money. Then I look at people around me, doing things they want to do, going to places they want to see and explore… why can’t I have that? They’re the same age as me; I don’t think they are particularly well off… so what’s stopping me? Fear.

 

Fear of me being a brat by asking for extra money for something unnecessary when they are already supporting my brothers in America (they seriously don’t need the extra expenses); Fear of thinking of all this and not joining the work force all just because I’m spoiled. Fear of wasting a year of my life; Fear of having no future if I end up being a fine art graduate; Fear of ending up wasting my parent’s money; Fear of convincing my father that I can, I want to, and I should do this, so I won’t have any regrets; Fear of adapting in a new environment; Fear that I would have to accept that I might not be as good as I think I would.

 

But what is one year compared to my life, since I’m planning to stick around for quite some time @@?

 

But I’m not planning to work in the art industry… at least not now… is it still okay? A master degree (if I get one), might end up being more of a hindrance in looking for other work…

 

But what if all this is just stupidity? I’m not even one of the best in my high school in Hong Kong… what future would I have in US or UK? What if I Think I want to study art or writing, just because it seems to be easier? What if I just spend a year on it and decided to come back to Hong Kong (which I think is the most possible outcome)… is that a waste of money and time?

 

Sometimes I couldn’t help think, am I being punished for being able to get to University in Hong Kong, leaving me here while my brothers are in America. This is extremely selfish and stupid, I know… they’re having a hard time, and my parents shouldn’t have to pay for us doing poorly in school, but sometimes I couldn’t help but think… sigh…

 

Sigh… I’m just really spoiled… really I am… if I weren’t spoiled, I wouldn’t even have these thoughts, these “problems”…

Crestfallen Sunday

Do I always have to be crestfallen on Sunday?

I went to Sai B’s class today in IDS. Quite apparently I attend his class only because of his style. I didn’t enjoy his classes much. First it’s because he’s scary. Second is because he reminds me Everything I’m Bad At. This might need some explaining to do.

I’m not very good at dancing. I have a poor memory and a body that isn’t cut out for the stage. The reason I’m a mediocre dancer right now is because a few years ago I was Determine to prove I wasn’t a Hopeless case to those instructors who didn’t give me a second glance. So now I’ve lost my determination.

Anyway he’s this really hip hop guy and his moves and routine has this kind of style, this kind of groove that is hard for me to pick up. Maybe I’m hard on myself, but sincerely I’ve been dancing for so long, I shouldn’t be doing so Poorly. He did this Evil Eye thing that Yiu does to me all the time – whenever he was forced to look at me. And that he always blocks my way on the mirror like Yiu does *HIT x 1*. Then he had to use PHYSICS to explain some of the steps *HIT x 2*. This isn’t his first time to use Physics to explain. For people who Actually Know who I am KNOWS that Physics has always been cruel to me; we never seen to meet eye to eye.

Then he used a Chinese term or something that I didn’t really understand. I asked the guy next to me and he shrugged. The instructor somehow heard me and Explained what it meant. His exact wordings were “the term is of F.6 F.7 Level Chinese”… *HIT x 3 – 3 Hits, K.O.*. Okay, so all this time I know I’ve been stereotyping – that dance instructors aren’t really academically bright. He proved me wrong.

I know he wasn’t doing this on purpose, but little did he know that he was reminding me how much of a failure I am in both dancing and academically. I always thought it was a blessing, but now I’m not sure if it was God’s way to playing tricks on me when He had me enrolled to HKU. Just this Friday I had to hand in an assignment. Fortunately I ran into my classmates, and that one of them flipped over my work to check if we had the same answers. It turns out that my calculation was completely wrong. I, trying to seem unmoved, asked for his work so I would know how to change my answers. All the way then I was thinking: we went to the same lesson, how could I make such a big mistake? If it wasn’t because of him, I would have failed in this assignment.

There’s dancing. Lately I’ve been thinking of cutting classes because I didn’t really have much time to waste nor money to burn. This month’s expenses were greater than expected. I’m not doing better in Bo’s class and I’m starting to give up. Yesterday Pauline made a comment about Bo being sexist because he said something about guys dance better than girls because of they have greater strength and therefore the way they portray the routine would be a lot more powerful. I had always thought that he was sexist. Long before, I kind of made it a point by trying to put more energy on the steps just to prove that girls can be as good as guys (I’m a feminist and darn proud of it, haha). Now I’ve just lost all my will to do better in his class.

I’ve tried telling myself that I don’t want to be a professional dancer, so I don’t have to improve and I don’t have to care so much. There are days that I think I should just give up and focus on my future. But then I remember the day I woke up, the first thought that come to my head was that if I don’t start now I never would. It was the first time in my life that I seriously think of dancing, something I’ve always Hated. For everything I’ve done, I set myself a standard, and I can never abandon that part of myself for having expectations.

I always had this urge to prove myself. That urge, that determination has saved my life all too many times… going to college, student union, A-Levels, going to HKU… I was always a rebellious person. The more you brand me, the more I want to break that perception. Now I need my determination and rebellious streak back, for both my academic life and dance are too important for me at this stage to simply wave my white flag and surrender.

To Be Inspired

Last week I got a call from the faculty office to ask me to participate in a causal discussion to give some feedback on an English course I took last semester. I would have to go to school on purpose, talk for an hour with no gain on my side (ah, the ugly HK person in me @@). I couldn’t believe myself but I actually agreed to go, only because the course sucked so badly and I feel it deserves to be put into justice. Unintentionally, I got something back from the discussion (other than the bottle of water @@).

Elsie (I presumed her name is spelt this way) is a new professor who had a position in UST (University of Stress and Tension, the name says it all) but is now going to be the head coordinator of business communication courses (i.e. English) in HKU. She said several things which made me think.

First she mentioned that considering the high tuition fees our parents have to pay, every hour we have in school is extremely expensive and the course should at no means be “a waste of time” (that was my comment for her regarding the course). So I guess from now on I have to think twice before skipping class @@. Second was that she said this is probably our last English course ever (that hit me hard). Then she said most of us probably won’t continue our studies after our bachelor degree and we will go straight to working our arse off until we’re 65 (*WHAM! Punch on the stomach*).

The ultimate message that killed me was her words: university courses should be Inspiring (*WHAM x 3!!!! fell flat on the floor*). I finally knew why I didn’t really like my university life. I expected University to inspire me.

Inspiring in the sense of being a better person; or giving you the thirsty for knowledge and wisdom; to be creative and be original; develop self-esteem and equip skills; have dreams and believe in yourself that you can accomplish anything; or at least make great friends with teachers or peers… and I’m not getting anything like that from school right now. The reason I still want to get another degree (or go for masters @@) is to get a taste of what University should truly be like; to be inspired by great people who help shaped our world, so we in turn might do something for the world too. Call me naïve but I truly believe if you really want to, you can have an impact to the world, albeit a small one.

Okay, so what should I do again?

*************
Went to Kayi’s (Candy) place with Barbie (Carol) and Janette to have dinner and play mah jok till 2 AM….

 

傳染人的微笑

I’m just so happy that I know you guys;
and have friends like you all, by my side.

********

昨天第一天正式上課.

上0297, 外籍教授講科.
他很enthusiastic, 臉上有很多 laughing lines.
他全堂就不斷微笑, 像什麼都是有趣的; 都值得一個快樂的微笑.
而他的微笑好像會傳染的,
令人情不自禁也一起笑.
很想學他一樣, 有一個能傳染人的微笑.

0297有 group project, 但因為一組要將得到的分數平均分,
所以正常的都不希望會有一個差的同學一組吧.
意外地, Rainbow 叫我和她 team (因為這一科要寫 paper).
結果我, Rainbow, Tony, 和一個 Year 3同學一組.
後來其他人不夠group mate, 就來找我, 哈.

上Bo 堂. 我情緒又突然低落了.
頭一個鐘我又再令我的“hea-功”達到另一個境界.
(我在這方面真的很厲害…)
後來正經了些.
但我開始覺得, 我唔懂得跳Bo的routine 了.

和Hannah吃甜品 (很喜歡, 想再去~), 談天.
麻煩了她一個晚上, 哈哈.
我擔心的問題, 很傻吧.

School Starts

The Golden Rule: Anyone with the gold makes the rules.

 

*****

 

School started for almost a week now. So far I haven’t skipped any lessons yet(a record!) and I found that I may be allergic to School; it makes me extremely tired. Now I have to sleep earlier than usual, which means hitting bed at around 12:00. Perhaps that’s still not earlier enough for my mom’s standards. But really, anyone who knew me would know I sleep whenever I can.

 

Okay, news:

 

1. I get to stay at school most of the time instead of rushing back to Central office, which is a relief. My dad pays my school fees, but I dunno about allowance… so I’m still taking tutoring jobs. The jobs are ok, just that two of them requires me to go up to their place (which is on the hills) and there’s no convenient nor cheap transportation to get there.

 

2. Both of my brothers are back at home and now we are back to the quarrel of who’s turn is it to use the computer. I need my computer for homework (and e-mails, and web-surfing, and clip watching… oh well…), but they need the computer because “I’ve just come back from the office and you’ve been using the computer longer than me”…

 

3. I have to redo my logbook (of a summer workshop) in two weeks, else I would have to take the workshop again (NO!!!).

 

4. I’m taking Business Law, Marketing, Organizational Behaviour and a workshop on writing narratives (oh, and 2 computer science course… B.O.R.I.N.G…). All of them seems interesting and promising (a heavy workload). It’s extremely important that I do well cos I’ve done so terribly last year (and this year counts 45%). So I guess I won’t be seeing friends much this semester (haha, let’s see).

 

5. Tannessa’s back for a month, yay! (But Edith is almost leaving! Boo…)

 

6. I’m still going to IDS 4 times, 5 lessons per week.

Monday Bo’s Hip Hop *,

Wednesday Yiu’s Jazz Funk ** (ocassionally, since I always found reasons not to go),

Thursday Leung’s Jazz Fung * and Johnny’s Jazz Funk *,

Saturday Bo’s Hip Hop **.

 

It is going to be really expensive but then I could always Not Eat and save up (and lose weight at the same time! 2 birds 1 stone!…). I dare not to tell this to my mom and aunt my schedule. They’d kill me.

 

And Johnny mentioned Team C hasn’t “died” yet and will be called back again during December? We’ll see…

補考

太多想法, 太認真, 不好吧.

 

*********

今天補考CBBA0001. 見到Eunice (她也是補考的).

有三位老師監考, 五位補考生, 一名學生缺席 (她竟夠膽!!?).

 

監考老師叫我們若果考試中途感到凍, 不舒適等,

也要盡量完成考試, 否則要 “明年再見” 了.

最多他們關掉冷氣和借風摟給我們.

 

聽了後, 我連忙拿了包紙巾, 水和止痛藥 (六粒) 出來,

說了 “若我們考試有事, 連埋第六位同學, 一人一粒, 剛剛好”.

其他人呆了.

 

試卷不能完成啊… 但應該合格的.

考完後我就在街上傻笑 ^^

 

之後和公司的 Melanie 一起吃飯.

(當然不是IDS 的那位; 我沒有資格呀)