Your place is not here

A boy with red swelling eyes see me. He said that he feels being cornered by his own historian teacher. The teacher said that all white men are mean. All Christians are sinner and causes our country in a miserable situation. We must hate white men, Christian,  also all west people.

He said that he cannot bear the condition when the teacher is saying thosw things his eyes are all on him as if he is not  right to be in his class as he is a Christian. He does not understand wht religion and skin color can cause a nation in suffer. He had done nothing as he confess he has no power to do anything including making people to go to hell or paradise.

The teacher is like blaming him for being a Christ and go to this school. He does want to dissapear and hear that rubbish anymore. He said that he is helpless because he is a minority student and force to show no effort to defend hinself. He does not want to go to school.  Uet, what should he do if he doesn't go to school.

A week passes by, he stays at home. His parents asked him what's wrong, he said those things. His parents as teacher knows that in the lesson there is no teaching about hating white man or blaming for being a Christ. His parents talks to his homeroom teacher.  Unfortunately, the homeroom teacher jumps to a silly conclusion. The boy should move from this school. 
The parents feel confused why should his son leave the school not finding the fact what's wrong with the teacher. His son is not the only boy who feels offended and afraid, but other minorities students too.

The parents try to find for a solution and meet the principal.  The principal has the same decision as the homeroom teacher. They noy then moves.
This solution raises a question why a government school can not protect and nurture minority student?

The time is yours

My son wakes up early. He said that he has the last final semester test today. His school apllies five day school week, but today is an exception. This Saturday will be his only day that schools opens for test. School opens only till Friday.
He does not study, read, nor do activities that represent learning (reading or practicing lesson). His time is filled by game and maybe online chatting.

I myself have come to realize that this is my first day that l am home and the time is really mine. I am usually given time by the moderator or MC. He will say "time is yours" then l will have 2 to 3 hours for myself to speak to the audience.  It is my time, but my time is alloted by other.

I feel like flying as my time is really mine. I can use it without the control of the moderator. I can speak,  l can alos not speak, l can answer my own  question,  l can  listen  to my questions too.

For others, what l said above may sound funy. But for me, who always have time given by the MC or moderator, this time is so different. l always be borrowed time by the committee. During that borrowed time, my brain, my act,  my words are not for my purpose.

Now,  l feel a bit confused how to  spend my day when no schedule given.  I can say, l am used to being scheduled. Well, l can start using my own time with washing clothes, dishes,  cutting grass, and then conrinue reading My life with Write boys.

Mira is here this Saturday. She joins scout activities.  I think, she is trying to enjoy her teenage life by making frienda from all walk of life. Sometimes l am worried that she is trapped by modern but harmful life. I always tell myself that the world out there is dangerous and full of intrigue.

My husband is going to Bandung to join gathering party. He must be responsible for ten of man as audience for party big meeting. His leaving makes me learn new thing. In a party there is a kind of fake big mass meeting.  The people who gathered and yell the glory of a party is a setting and planned.

Time which is an expensive commodity for me becomes useless when l spend it only for analyzing what my husband  do with his time. Then, to make my time effective, now, l start cutting grass and at the samwme time let the washing machine spins.

Do you agree to be an author?

Many things can happen in a short time and it may change your life forever. A few hours ago l feel so helpless and brainless as my 'Cianjur Culture' writing failed to be candidate for students reading book.

I read a Wattpad novel 'My life with the Walter's Boys' written by a teenager named Ali. The novel is written in five years.  It is quite long eh? But the author has interesting pay for her long and hard work. Her Wattpad version is now invited into a book, a film, and a tv series. It is a dream that comes true for all author when their works can be acceptable in every platforms and meet heterogeneous audience.

Wattpad becomes my running field when l feel sad. Many young writers who try their luck there.  My eyes are still on Wattpad page when an email notification pop up. Subject "Becoming youthquake with local genius". My mind goes back to the time when l presented my research in University of Suryakencana Cianjur. I forget whether l gave my full paper or not. However, the title of my research curious me.

When l opened the email, it was from a digital publisher based in Singapore offers me to write a book based on my research range from 42 to 700 pages. I feel so overwhelmed.  How can my writing goes and be detected by OmniScriptum that dedicates to scientific works written in English. It says that their books are distributed worldwide through well known shops such as Amazon, Morebooks, Hachette. Is this real?

My mind cannot digest this fact. Slowly, l can feel  inconfident crawl in me. My ability in Enlish is just so so. My ability in writing is also average. I do not dare to say yes l agree to be OmniScriptum author for my writing ability is low.

In second and hour,  many that happen. I sometimes do not understand what time actually offers me. The rapid changing from one second to another causes me to juat stand still and do not know what to do.

How far have you explored?

He smiles when l saw him in the teacher's office. He is a new teacher who once always take a role as my substitute when l have a job outside the classroom. He got married at 6 May 2018 and l came to his wedding. People consider that we are very close (and l think it is quite right).

He talked about his luck. His said  many holiday occur when he needs time for his own personal business.  The last few weeks his lecturers took trip so he had time to prepare for his wedding.  He is a student of under graduate of UNJ. He continued his study as l told so. I encourage him to pursue S2 and become a lecturer, later. For now, teaching at SMA is needed for him to have a field of research.

The talk comes to his personal experience as less-a-week husband. He said that he has four houses to occupy. And now he chooses the house that is near to school, the house is from his wife parents, just made for her ( in my heart, l said, yes you are very lucky,  four houses are waiting to accupy days before you get married, me? l build a house, years, but it doesn't even close to finish).

"I feel still a bit confused when l woke up she is beside me, and she looks surprised too when she woke up we are in the same room,' he gave me an example. He added that he is inspired to teach his kiddos with telling stories literacy as his relative did.

The talks is postponed as a teacher throw a silly question between our conversation, "you, new married man, how far have you gone there?"
A laughter mushrooming in the room, l feel a bit confused, what the laughter is for, and why he should gave him that question.
The condition is going wild. Another male teacher said ,' see, his walking style is different now, ha ha ha'.
Another teacher added, 'you must want to go home now, many unfinish business with your new bride to settle'.
I feel embarrassed. Teacher as educated member society cannot be tolerable to state unacceptable joke. I want to lie that l hear those silly questions.

How far are you respecting your role as teacher?

Are you sick?

It has been a week my left eye is bleeding. I accept it as normal as l can because l realize that my artificial eye  ball will always brings problem for my eye lids. As the artificial eye ball has no oil as healthy-given eye ball, so l need to give articial tears. Again, artificial, as the name mentioned, is not a natural thing, articial tears always tear my nerve, artitical tears causes severe pain in my head. Meanwhile, mt eyelids will always hurt and bleed as it opens and closes slipping into the artificial dry eye ball  surface. Bleeding will happen anytime.

The pain does not stop me from working. So today l go to school to work. I met teachers, not so many, as l arrived at 8.10 (my students are given GO seminar so my class is occupied). As l predict, no body cares (or it is only my feeling, as l am so fragile lately,  'need attention given, and wanted to be recognized zzzz'). I entered the teacher's office and directly met Pak Dani when lbu Rina came and asked me 'how are you' l gave her a long explanation how my eye bleed. I am not sure if she understands or at least pretend to undesrtand and pretend to care as well.

Two ar three teachers ask the same question. I gave the same answer, it was so bored repeating explanation meanwhile the explanations itself  become an asnwer for lip service they give that l know well it is to glue social life. Then l end the chaos by focusing on document l should give to 12 MIPA 6. Nurul Siti, Naura, Alfira take their card.

In Indonesia we have what so called 'stale conversation' My conversation  l made this morning is realy stale and stinky too. Often times l feel that l am not welcomed in my job place. It is not a secret that when l am not around l become the gossip topic. It is just like when l heard they gossip another school  family member who is not around. Gossip is a filler for them, maybe.

Asking how are you is important for me. That question help me to believe that my existance is recognized. However, that question sounds bitter when the person you are asked and explained what happened but you didn't try to put her shoes in you.  It is very stale indeed.

One more thing, when you informed people that  you cannot go to work because you are sick. One of the response read 'l cannot say anything'
That response raises a question to me. Did l send a wrong message. Are you sick?

Teacher's office is unsafe

My head is filled with the plan that l must see Pak Dani, an art teacher who handles farewell card. He didn't provide farewell card as many as the sumber of the 12 MIPA student. A few days ago, M Azhar said that his card was not amongs the piling of cards and book report l laid on my desk.

As soon as l met Pak Dani, l asked him the card. He gave me the card with no addressee. I put the card on the pile, l tell myself l will write the addressee after l teach. I put the card for Azhar at the lowest pile and l leave the office room.

I see 10 MIPA 5 and 6 who are sitting down in hall to join GO seminar. I talked to Pak Hendra from GO about my son's plan to join GO. I gave him IDR 1.000.000. He said that the receipt will be given later.
We discussed about the role of teacher to help student to use etiquette when sending text or when posting things on Fb. I argue that the biography is being made anytime one posts something in mass media. 
My head said that my discussions partner did not like me talking too much as he must prepare his business in the hall. So l said goodbye to him and tell my student to collect their task later.

I return to teacher's office to check Alfira who will take SKHUN,  farewell card, and semester 6 book report. I found out that farewell card with bo addressee was not there. Who took it? What for? Why?

Card becomes one of things that lost in teachers office. A week ago, another teacher reported that her mobile phone was lost. Two weeks before, two teachers also reported that their mobile phone were lost. Teacher's room is not safe. Many belongings lost. 

Mourning Day

It was quite some time l sent my writing to a competition with a hope that l my name would be picked as one out 120 writers who writes for literacy book.

Today is the abm announcement day. I found my name wasn't stated there. It tore my heart. Is it because my writing low in quality? Is my writing not accepted by the competition committee? Many questions filled my head. This fact makes me reluctant to write another book to join a competition in ministerial of education. The theme is related to humans.

I imagine it will be more painful when again l fail and cause myself names me as one who has no ability im writing. My dream to be a writer ends.

Yet,  when l look back at the general experience.  Many people try more than once to gain what they want. I joined the competition once and l did not write seriously feels very frustrated to learn the fact that my writing is not categorized as nominee. I give up too easily.

Perhaps l must ask myself what l am looking for and search whether l do not satisfy with what l had reached so far. For some people, maybe, l must be a person who had many things to thank to. As l small teacher l could join many government activities and make me a little different from teachers in general.

Apart from all those reasons l wrote above and all logical things, this sad feeling is very real. I feel as if l have no tears that can depict my failure. I do not train myself to loose.  I always told myself to be strong and try my best.

Now, l only can swallow this bitter feeling alone.  I don't have any courage even to pronounce a sentence that tells my name is not on the list.
I must learn that perhaps l don't have a talent for writing l always think all these time.