#1 (memories)

The first time i felt heartbreak was when i was 17.

I couldn't accept it, it wrenched my whole being. I called him over and over again, or texted, or did whatever it was just to get his attention. I threatened to hurt myself. At one point, and I remember this distinctly, because I knew at that time that I would remember this for a long time. I played Galapogos out loud and lay on the floor. I took whatever pills i found in the fridge and downed it with some medicinal alcohol. I took a gulp of some washing liquid found in the bathroom, and threw it back out, bubbles in my throat. I used a blade and in a fit, cut my thighs over and over. I called him and ... i don't remember, maybe said what i did. He said something to the effect of, if you want to talk to me, talk to me... you don't have to do anything stupid to get my attention. Well i did at that time, because he wouldn't talk to me... wouldn't respond, wouldn't turn his head to look at me.

I couldn't turn off the voice in my head - the hungry demon who kept saying over and over, you're not wanted.. you're not wanted. What made me obsessed, i think now, was rejection. I wouldve done anything, did do... to get his attention. Now, and then, i think how incredibly stupid i was, and in some ways, still am. Because i still know that pain. how can i deny that, that gutwrenching, destroying pain? like being torn open from the inside out. and that same voice, saying, you're not wanted. you're not worth it.

That night, every fifteen minutes almost systematically i woke up and rushed to the bathroom to throw up. it was like something pulled out from deep, deep in my gut. it left a bitter bile in my mouth, and later i saw, some black stuff at the bottom of the toilet.

Earlier that night my parents found me, asleep or under the surmise of it. They asked me if i wanted something to eat on their way home. I sounded as normal as i can and said no. I made sure i was in bed by the time they got home. did they have any clue? I don't know. Till this day no one knows what happened that night. I couldn't eat anything the next morning. I drank something and threw it back up. Later on, i ate an apple, telling myself if i can keep this down, i'll be alright. i did. i was alright. I seem to remember watching the Oscars on TV. A few days later, i was surprised to discover red wounds, slashed on my thighs.

That was at seventeen. For how incredibly stupid and desperate that was, how can i erase it and say that wasn't me? It is a part of my history... and how i understand things.. the world, people. how i understand desperation and pain. how i feel for people. How i straddle the world of making sense and insanity. how i learn to keep calm and ... through all the years of coping, disowning some things and accepting others and myself with it, how i learn to regulate my own emotions and thoughts, how i learn the necessary sense of humour. and have a sense of proportion, and knowing the next closest thing is death. and learn to be thankful for what i do have.

I wonder if its a battle for everyone. This daily debilitating struggle against self-doubt, fear, insecurity. The kind that stops you from working like you really can, and loving like you really are able to..and want to. Because being able to love, and be loved, is something you have to be secure enough to do - otherwise it becomes a mess, a rubble of defenses, jealousy, neediness. You become parched, and ugly.

But it is not a comparison, or a contest. Everyone has a different story, they fight their own battles, they make their own way.

But you want to be able to fulfill what you have dreamed of, deep inside, a seed planted when you were a child. That you are special; that you are beautifully made by an awesome God, that you are able to do great things. You have seen the edge of this limitlessness within you, when you were in youth. You want to be able to make this complete. You need to, because otherwise you will battle for the rest of your life - you will be bitter, you will be hindered from pure love.

You don't want to grow - jealousy, anger, self-righteousness, vanity, fear; ugliness.
You want to grow - purity, love, beauty - LOVE.
Then cultivate these.

I remember hearing this, that changed my life forever.

In the beginning, there was a dance. An eternal dance. And we were created to be a part of this dance. But along the way, we have forgotten, we forget the steps. So messengers came to teach us again the steps of this dance. They came to teach us how to love, how to dance around others so they could also know this love and return to this dance. This is why I do what I do and who I aim to be. Even though I had forgotten it - even though I get distracted, and tired, emotional and unproductive. Even though i act like a child sometimes, and even though sometimes i want things i think i want. But this is really why i live - i want to be able to dance like that, to be part of that eternal dance of love. And i want this more than anything else - this is the most important thing, even through loss, even through growing old and bitter, even through anger and pride - in the end, i want just to be able to reach that place that i can dance in spite of myself.

Sometimes when perspective is skewed I can feel a bit depressed, hopeless.

But there are also moments when I feel thankful for everything I have. At CNY when people talk about prosperity, it's a good time to think of how prosperous I really am, in so many ways. I'm thankful for my family, for my kids, for having found something to do that gives me purpose. I'm thankful for friends in this journey. I'm thankful for what I have and who I am, and how far I've come.

A few things have changed since I've started teaching:

1. All kids are now my kids. If I'm trying to watch out for a wandering child or gently guiding a random child to the right direction, it's because I feel somewhat responsible for them. If I see a bunch of teenagers loitering outside the local KFC,  I think these are just like my students - I push aside the urge to go and give them a stern warning and ask them to go study.

2. I see people differently. When I saw some detainees at the police station, I thought. ..what if some of my kids turn out like this, and pray that none of them do. When my car was broken into (along with two of my other friends' ) I thought ... I guess this is why I teach for Malaysia too. And I hoped that if one day it was any of my kids who ended up in these gangs who did these things, when they realise it's my car they'll say 'This is teacher's. She was kind to us.' And stop, and maybe leave a note which said 'Sorry teacher'.

3. I have a tendency to scold people who are acting like kids. It comes from being on my toes all day keeping kids to their best expected behaviour.

4. I'm a lot more organised now. Because, all that teaching and talking to kids about being the best they can be and not forgetting their homework.  Also as a teacher being organised is a matter of survival.

5. I now envy different things. I now envy people who've done really well with their students, or who have great classroom management or see moments in their students of things clicking in the right way. I envy these and would like so much to see these happen - for my kids, but also for myself. This may or may not be good, but i guess it's better than envying how good others look or how much fun they're having.

It feels odd sometimes just to watch the chapters of your life turn. I remember times when I was depressed, when I had lost hope and did not know a purpose for my life. I remember times when death felt so close, constantly on my mind. I'm past that now. I have grown a lot, learned a lot, discovered a lot.

Its another chapter now, and I'm going through a few things. And for the first time, i feel like age is happening to me. When i was young i used to observe that i never want to be bitter and angry when i got older. I guessed that it was something that happened with age, with losing the sense of wonder, with being jaded with the world. I told myself i would never be that. Now i see it happening. Its a curious awareness, observing yourself gradually losing some innocence. Finding in yourself some bitterness that was never there before.

I used to regard everyone with wonder - i saw everyone as good. I used to naturally put being polite first. Now, most people annoy me. I find myself being more okay with being mean like never before. I used to have pure intentions, and wished good for everyone. Now, like a creeping demon i discover with shock a twinge of anger at other's happiness. How can this be? But so I find it. I wonder if its just a natural phase.. if its age, finally catching up on me.. i was pure like a child for a long time, not really getting how the people around me could be the way they sometimes can be, callous, bitter. Maybe they grew up faster. Now a divide is being cut out, and it is where my intentions are tested and i have to make a deliberate choice. how will i deliberately live?
On the other hand, I wonder if there is a root to this bitterness.. something i need to get to and resolve, within myself. Something that needs to be unhinged, made peace with. Maybe..

For many months, I have been struggling to find the words to talk about this year; my first year of teaching, first year of my fellowship with Teach For Malaysia. At times I felt like I should share joys and successes; at times I wanted to be completely honest and talk about failures, about  impossibilities, about how our efforts are inevitably flailing in the face of a situation so huge, a problem so complex. I struggled between being crudely realistic and being optimistically positive. Mostly, I struggled with a messy, noisy, blank - a bag full of things to express, but nothing intelligible.

And then my friend Constance said something very profound - or rather, quoted it :
"For those who have, more will be given to them."

It stuck with me for days. I thought, yes. That's what it is. Because I feel like I have had nothing exceptional to offer this year, and yet - some things have worked out... astonishingly well. I think back to the good things that have happened this year - the students who show growth in exams and attitudes in class; the students who in my classes now know their place in the world to think carefully about things and express their opinions. A trip to university that still lights up the eyes of those who went. Being vouched for by the district education office, with the opportunity to work together and share knowledge on a larger scale, next year.

When we were starting out, we never imagined some of these turning out the way they did. We talk about it and say - It feels like a lot of things this year happened by accident. A stroke of luck.

We say this because throughout the year, I did not feel like I was winning, at all. Night after night, I slept restlessly and woke up the next day, panicky because I did not know what to do. I planned lessons but  was obsessed with how it would turn out; mostly the thought of entering class and dealing with 30 students made me anxious. Nothing makes you feel as vulnerable as teaching in front of a class of young students. I had no control over how my students behaved, no confidence that they would listen to anything I said or do anything I asked them to do. My failures are apparent in the kid who is disengaged, sleeping, talking, or walking and throwing stuff. My lack of authority is glaring in the student who blatantly refuses when I ask him nicely to do his work or switch seats. It is emasculating. More than once, I felt like being observed teaching was like being naked in a room full of people.

Day after day we tried and failed, and the next day we tried again. Some days it took everything I had to dress up and show up. Some days I felt too powerless and stayed at home in bed. A constant fight or flight mode - moments when every weak nerve in my body scream to get away from the situation, and I have to fight and do it anyway. Show up anyway. Go into class anyway. Teach anyway.

But this is where what Constance quoted is important - 'To those who have, more will be given.'
We had little, but we were faithful with what we had. We put our little to action. We tried and tried and tried. When we felt heartbroken, we came back the next day, training our love to be bigger. And seeing this, our schools and systems gave us more to match our efforts. Our students were able to respond in kind, with some fruits of what we have sown. This is what makes it worth it.

This is the most important and affirming lesson I will learn this year. Sometimes faith, love and action are all there is, and it is enough. It wasn't luck, fortunate accidents or an arbitrary flow of events that magically gave us what we gained. It was being faithful with what we had and putting them into action.

Because of that we can leave this year with more...and next year we can trust that more more will be added to it.