My primary school memories were collecting dust in my brain storage!! They have just been swept back up from under the carpet, and it is very enlightening. During the last class, we already tapped into one, last night another.
The one that unfurled in class was very confusing. And very funny. It really showed how children registers events in life, and then categorise them in the wrong pigeonhole for adulthood. 😀 I was in primary 1 or 2, and it was my favourite teacher – her name is still used for many of my password hints / security question! It is really funny, because when I regressed to that, I was barefoot, but in my uniform, and oh my, I saw the dark blue colour and texture of my primary school chair! Such nostalgia!!!
I was pretty pissed off, and standing barefoot on a chair outside of the classroom, along the corridor, with another classmate. I was punished for being disobedient, which is a huge surprise because my report book always mentioned that I am a very obedient girl (and wow… obedience was a big thing for kids.. no wonder the sheep we are now “known” for…). I had been walking around the class telling my story in an oratory manner*. I was so impassioned to tell that amazing story that came to mind then, and my flow of inspiration was interrupted by my teacher to make me sit down in class. I was like, “I’m not done with my story …” and probably some adamant argument ensued thereafter. So, I got sent outside.
I guess this is another massively missing piece of puzzle in my childhood. Before I went to school, when I was still hanging out with my maternal grandma and uncles who lived and worked in the opposition ward, I would stand on the tables at the coffeeshop and tell great stories (basically whatever storybook that I read and found interesting). That was how I earned my keeps! The people at the coffeeshop would buy me sweets, drinks, snacks, whatever, and I would give my speech and then hunch back down to the chair and eat/drink them. It was delightful memories, everyone was so proud of me, and I was so proud of myself. Comparing those childhood memories to the fear of public speaking (I had to present to huge crowds for my work last time, and it was unnerving), there was a huge gap which I could not understand, until this childhood “trauma” unfolded!!!!!! ARGHS!!!!! It is annoying to lose such passion and love to this silly story!!! Growls.
As an adult now, revisiting the misunderstood childhood lesson, I am now reclaiming the “lost” gifts. 😥 The teacher was not wrong for what she did. She had to put in the discipline and the structure and the guidance, so that I would not turn into some unruly ill-disciplined wild adult in the future. There was a whole series of healing done to conclude that chapter, and understanding a lot of discernment and stuffs. Interesting, eh?
Last night was about my primary 2 or 3 teacher. I was hoping so hard not to see this memory, and asking for “any memory before that?” and “how about any memory that is more impactful?” but Creator seemed very insistent about me working this through. It took a long long time, and covered other sub-issues, guess that is the most impactful and the earliest one (meaning she was the cause of it! hmpf) Her name was Mrs Nala. The violent image still appears in my head everything my mom or anyone mentions that incident (we still talk about that, that is how bad it was).
My other cousin (dad’s cousin’s child) was in the same class as me. There were two slower students in class – him and Sufen – and the teacher was so mean to them. My cousin was sitting in his chair, and Mrs Nala was grabbing him at his hair and banging his head against the back of the chair, while yelling, “why are you so stupid?” repeatedly. It is really horrible! That is no way to talk to child, and as a teacher, shouldn’t you be teaching everyone at their ability level?! It makes me really pissed off thinking about this incident, but at the same time, this incident also deeply ingrained in me what kind of teacher I want to be in the (then) future.
I was so pissed off then, and so confused by the whole scene, I ran out of the classroom, and screamed for help as I ran up and down the corridor. My goodness!!! This whole scene is still very very vivid in my mind, and so it is in my cousin’s as well. Mom recently met him recently, and he still talked about how I “saved” him then.
Yea, so there was helluva healing session – working on healing the trauma, healing my judgments against teachers, healing about the crazy expectations I now have about teaching, healing about not being overwhelmed, healing about not being overdramatic, releasing guilt about this and that. Strangely, releasing subconscious guilt about sabotaging my teacher. Re-understanding that teachers are humans as well – not that she is right, but that I cannot expect perfect behaviour from teachers all the time, etc etc etc. Tonnes of beliefs laden in this session, many are so absurdly surprising. Moral of the story – whatever expectation or judgment we have on people, we will expect/judge ourselves in the same way.
Huge learning lesson. Viewing from the platform of Creator’s unconditional love, and a higher perspective on our existence, I am really grateful for this incident in how it has shaped my character (expectations, integrity, etc) till today. Yay to that I am now able to reclaim back the other stuffs that I have lost to this incident.
❤ Thank you to all souls teaching and learning with me on this journey ❤