The first five things to remember
I had no idea how to best begin the journal I promised I would write with. I knew someone is going to read it and puts judgments on it. Some might have had certain expectation in their mind about what I was about to write. I didn't get the nerve to carry on should I thought of it. I found it hard to jot down idea up to this point. My fear was I don't manage to live up their expectations. I am accustomed to expect my self so high, that having someone expect me higher, to write something better does not sound a good idea. In order to free me just a little bit, let me write the story as if you are not going to read it. As if it is for myself to read, for personal purposes.
A co-worker once asked me a good question, what my first five impression to the school is. This question is very simple and easy to answer. Early impressions normally last longer in mind.
On July 15, 2011, a congratulating call somewhat surprised me. It confirmed me that I passed the recruitment processes. On Monday, three days after the call, I got an acceptance letter and was scheduled meet the head of the school. Prior to the meeting with the HRD officer, I knew the level and where I would be working at already. Thanks to my senior at college.
I was immediately mesmerized at how high, physically, the school is as soon as I arrived. It is a six-story building with relatively large parking lot, basket ball field, and within a school complex. The closest image in mind was SMA Lab or F-building of SWCU. It is the best apple-to-apple comparison I could think of for the moment. I am sure that the school is well-funded, a typical kind for middle-end people. I could sense this is the right place, the right one for my goal. My sole purpose to leave for this place was to get picture how everything is going out side, outside Salatiga and Ngablak, where I have spent most of my time growing up. I was curious about how my life would be in different places.
Having my steps a little farther away off the entry gate, I could see some good city cars parked. A train of thought passed by. Some students seemed to get their driving cards already. I, soon, learned that more students are not that willing to go to school by public transportation or whenever possible on foot. This results in a long queue of cars waiting to drop off the passengers. It is a routine. During a teacher morning briefing one day, I understood that this was a serious issue. There are always there everyday, five days a week, a traffic congestion.
I could not get rid of the firm and calm look of the head mistress. She, in a way. reminded me of my senior high school headmistress, well-mannered and groomed type of woman at her mid forties. She was having a student with her in the office. She threw a glance at me and gave me a sign to wait outside. Minutes later, She invited me to come in. After a brief welcome and a chit chat, she led me to go to the teacher room.
To my surprise, as the door opened, I could see a large yet loaded room. The headmistress introduced me to them, them to me. They responded. They welcomed me warmly by clapping their hands. I smiled and lost my mind. It took me for a while to think about what to do at that very moment. Very odd. I loved it, though. I enjoyed their warmth, applauses and welcoming smiles. They were as though telling me, 'Good job at college and now good luck for the job!'. The headmistress then showed me my own table, interrupting this awkward time. The office was not as private as I expected. However, I could learn at least to share the room with the people and be less self-centered. Isn't it all what teaching all about? About sharing? About putting your own business aside to give more room for others?
Some teachers are born comedians. They are humorous and looking well-experienced to build a positive atmosphere. However, the more important moment was when I found that many speak Javanese. And to my relief, they don't mind speaking Javanese during break. I feel home! This is important for the transition as I am shifting my self from an unemployed to an in-service teacher.
I have had anything I wanted and what I had longed for, a job! A good one, very good indeed. The expectation and demand must be, in my opinion, high. Will I survive? I don't know. However, to look at the five-year-long preparation and how far I have come helps me feel alright. I am never alone, am I? A moment later, I could hear a comment from a lonely and lacking of self esteem person saying, 'I'd better stop here to make the journal focused, well-structured, and free of off-the-topic details.'
I had no idea how to best begin the journal I promised I would write with. I knew someone is going to read it and puts judgments on it. Some might have had certain expectation in their mind about what I was about to write. I didn't get the nerve to carry on should I thought of it. I found it hard to jot down idea up to this point. My fear was I don't manage to live up their expectations. I am accustomed to expect my self so high, that having someone expect me higher, to write something better does not sound a good idea. In order to free me just a little bit, let me write the story as if you are not going to read it. As if it is for myself to read, for personal purposes.
A co-worker once asked me a good question, what my first five impression to the school is. This question is very simple and easy to answer. Early impressions normally last longer in mind.
On July 15, 2011, a congratulating call somewhat surprised me. It confirmed me that I passed the recruitment processes. On Monday, three days after the call, I got an acceptance letter and was scheduled meet the head of the school. Prior to the meeting with the HRD officer, I knew the level and where I would be working at already. Thanks to my senior at college.
I was immediately mesmerized at how high, physically, the school is as soon as I arrived. It is a six-story building with relatively large parking lot, basket ball field, and within a school complex. The closest image in mind was SMA Lab or F-building of SWCU. It is the best apple-to-apple comparison I could think of for the moment. I am sure that the school is well-funded, a typical kind for middle-end people. I could sense this is the right place, the right one for my goal. My sole purpose to leave for this place was to get picture how everything is going out side, outside Salatiga and Ngablak, where I have spent most of my time growing up. I was curious about how my life would be in different places.
Having my steps a little farther away off the entry gate, I could see some good city cars parked. A train of thought passed by. Some students seemed to get their driving cards already. I, soon, learned that more students are not that willing to go to school by public transportation or whenever possible on foot. This results in a long queue of cars waiting to drop off the passengers. It is a routine. During a teacher morning briefing one day, I understood that this was a serious issue. There are always there everyday, five days a week, a traffic congestion.
I could not get rid of the firm and calm look of the head mistress. She, in a way. reminded me of my senior high school headmistress, well-mannered and groomed type of woman at her mid forties. She was having a student with her in the office. She threw a glance at me and gave me a sign to wait outside. Minutes later, She invited me to come in. After a brief welcome and a chit chat, she led me to go to the teacher room.
To my surprise, as the door opened, I could see a large yet loaded room. The headmistress introduced me to them, them to me. They responded. They welcomed me warmly by clapping their hands. I smiled and lost my mind. It took me for a while to think about what to do at that very moment. Very odd. I loved it, though. I enjoyed their warmth, applauses and welcoming smiles. They were as though telling me, 'Good job at college and now good luck for the job!'. The headmistress then showed me my own table, interrupting this awkward time. The office was not as private as I expected. However, I could learn at least to share the room with the people and be less self-centered. Isn't it all what teaching all about? About sharing? About putting your own business aside to give more room for others?
Some teachers are born comedians. They are humorous and looking well-experienced to build a positive atmosphere. However, the more important moment was when I found that many speak Javanese. And to my relief, they don't mind speaking Javanese during break. I feel home! This is important for the transition as I am shifting my self from an unemployed to an in-service teacher.
I have had anything I wanted and what I had longed for, a job! A good one, very good indeed. The expectation and demand must be, in my opinion, high. Will I survive? I don't know. However, to look at the five-year-long preparation and how far I have come helps me feel alright. I am never alone, am I? A moment later, I could hear a comment from a lonely and lacking of self esteem person saying, 'I'd better stop here to make the journal focused, well-structured, and free of off-the-topic details.'
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