I can't believe it, but it's happening. My baby is heading off for high school. I'm really nervous. On the contrary, she's really excited. My hopes are still high that she would finally use her head and come to her senses.
I know I was excited when I started high school. It was a lot of responsibility. I was voted to be class librarian. I took the position with pride. I was a nutter when people did not return their books on time. I had fun. I was class librarian for 2 years. I enjoyed my 2nd year as a class librarian because my best friend, Francis was voted into it. We would spend hours in the library after school hours sorting books and discussing topics regarding new books and authors.
I had the roughest time during my Junior year. I was being prepped for the Junior Certificate of Education. It's an examination to determine where my strongest subject would be. It would mean being separated from my class based on academic skills. I didn't make it. I was sent to the Philippines to continue my education.
I didn't realize how different the American school systems are from British educational institutions. I had to repeat Junior high at a school, which was located 29 miles from my mother's home province. Even after my report card came back with flying colors, my parents were not as impressed as I would hope. I had to return to Brunei. My parents were not even sure I was worthy to go back to school. I asked for another chance. Needless to say, I did not have to repeat Junior high again for the 3rd time. I went straight to the 3rd semester of Senior High. I had a lot of catching up to do. It was a lot of pressure. The General Certificate of Education Ordinary Level exams were under way.
I was never really good at Bahasa Melayu. It was a language only Malayans use to communicate. Every country and region have their own dialect. The locals do not speak it. I was told it was too mundane to even use it. Even when I did speak it to a local (a man who couldn't speak a lick of English), t[he]y laughed at me and told me I was speaking "gobbledegook." I failed it; not with an "F" but with a "U" for Unacceptable.
Even if I do decide to speak Bahasa Melayu, I know enough to understand what the non-Bruneians are talking about. Bahasa Melayu is the national language of Malaysia.
At any rate. I had the best time in Science Class. It was really telling that I was good at English, Biology, Geography and Algebra. My mother was under the impression I would have gotten an A for Art, but I had a very biased art teacher. Whether or not she believes it to be true, Miss Loh only loves the student who follow her instructions. If she had Heather Rooney as her student, she would have given her an art certificate for the best artist award.
I have always been an abstract artist. Even when Miss Loh gave us projects in creating abstract artwork, the best grade she could give me was a "C." She wrote on my report card: "Can do better. Needs to improve." I don't blame Miss Loh for her prejudice. She had no inkling what "C" grades meant to my mother.
My daughter is academically smarter than I am. For that, I'm very fortunate. She knows I don't prod her often. It seems I need to start. For the first time in a long time, her report card came back with an "F." We asked her why. When we asked her teacher to clarify, her teacher told us that my daughter failed to turn in 8 assignments. Eight.
We asked her again. She told us that she didn't feel like doing her homework. Truly unnerving.
So, here's to the new school semester. I hope she keeps up with homework as much as school work. She's just going to jeopardize her chance in going to college.
