I think I'm going to regret posting this, since it was written in the middle of the night (or dead of the morning) with my brain half-gone.

---

This morning I could not sleep, so I looked through the SAJS and SASS Annuals from 2005-2008.

I must say it stirred something within me that made me write this down. It’s kind of like a speech – long winded and everything that Mr. Sim has taught us – but maybe more informal, since I’m addressing you guys.

It’s been 10 years, for those coming from the Junior School, and 4 years for those who have not (though I highly doubt you’re not from the JS).

What can I say. This is no longer writing a speech as a valedictorian. They always talk about how camaraderie is forged between classmates, how Chem Yeo would scream at them repeatedly until Chemistry facts would get stuck in their head, how fantabulous the teachers are. Maybe they are. But I guess all speeches are the same, because year after year of alumnae have come to appreciate the things that make Saint Andrews, Saint Andrews.

When I visited Saint Andrews in Scotland sometime last year, it was picturesque, quiet, scenic. Nothing like SASS. Rambunctious, rowdy, retarded guys in a school. 1000 of them crammed into one small campus. Deafening to my ear drums. Irritating bastards, I would think, and I thought right up till this moment.

Then I realised why you guys had thought me insensitive with the remarks I made post-grad ceremony. (I know, I don’t want to bring it up either, but we can learn from the past.) It’s because I didn’t see what it was about SASS that would be treasured in our hearts, then did I make those (very unintentionally) snarky remarks (at least to some people.)

I realised how each and everyone of us filled the cracks in the social walls like Polyfillia. 2-1. (Perhaps you won’t know this reference, unless you listen and follow Imogen Heap, which I know Jos and I do.) We fill the lack of grace and the need for attention with the consideration of our friends that we have had developed in this school. It’s no longer a school. I know, I have had harped on the fact that classes are not social gatherings, and they never were meant to be, even now. Nothing has changed.

But the school is a place of social cohesion, is it not?

In all honesty, our teachers are fantabulous. Without Mr. Ng we would never know that we only have to:

1. Believe we can do it.
2. Work hard.
3. Work up the pyramid of laying a foundation first, then etc.

… in order to fulfil our dreams and goals.

“A goal is an aspiration with a deadline.” I so remember, or something along those lines as he told us in A601 (i.e. Mathematics Arena.)

I think the 1B/2B guys were lucky to have nearly the same teachers throughout their 4 years in Secondary school, or perhaps only Mr. Ng was the constant within those four years, but coming from 1A/2A We changed teachers almost every half-year. It had no sense of identity, even coming from a class where co-operation was emphasised and teamwork was essential to projects launched at us at breakneck speed, rapid fire.

There were social cliques in 1A/2A, and every class has social cliques, but what I noticed that was different with 1B/2B/3SA/4SA was that: these social cliques could automatically band together to form a class. (With the exclusion of Elroy and Bart, Elroy because he is too shy and Bart because he is divine and thus a class of his own :P.)

I still can’t believe you guys supported the Choir/Drama for “A Beautiful City” even though you all knew it would be some potentially failure-esque halfway-house-ish kind of drama production that was spurned from the depths of madness from the director’s mind. You guys cheered. You guys laughed.

I think, no I know, that it was so because of Mr. Ng.

He was the glue that held us all together. Simple as that. Sometimes it was sticky UHU, slow to dry but strong. Sometimes it was Elephant Superglue, fast and strong, and rigid. Sometimes it was contact cement, damn slow but stuck for very long. And sometimes it was just water-glue or PVA, temporarily holding us down for lack of better reason.

But even so, he was still glue. And all the other teachers joined in him endeavour, to strengthen the class bonds. Even Mrs. Low noticed how people would defend each other for having been accused of talking in class. She eventually gave up sending people out of the classroom/lab.

Sometimes, we may have been superbly unappreciative of the privileges granted towards us, such as the fantastic MT teachers we have (Mdm. PPT and Ms. Oei were fantastic, because they dedicated their time and their effort to doing things out of a normal MT teachers’ comfort zone, and persisted with lectures and scoldings.) But as everyone knows, we don’t notice something good until it’s gone.

I hope that we will all go into JC (or Poly, for those who already know what they want to do) appreciating the effort that our tutors/lecturers put into bringing a lesson across, be it a mass lecture or a tutorial. Be grateful for notes (like SJJ’s and PPT’s and Chem Yeo’s and Mr. Low’s, etc.) Be grateful for out-of-syllabus knowledge. Be grateful for every single gesture, because you never know when you’d be removed from the system.

In Singapore, education is not a privilege, but something taken for granted. We should learn to know that it is not just an honour to be the school dux, but also an honour that we be educated by people willing to dedicate their lives to passing on the knowledge of their forefathers to the younger (apparently unappreciative) generation; people who are passionate about going the extra mile (or light-year). These are people who change lives. It is because of these people that Saint Andrews it the community that changes lives as well. Even if it may be Mr. Peter Tay (aka Pro Ah-Pek Mapler Captain Army guy) who consistently does not fail to forget whether he has taken our class, or teachers like Chem Yeo/Mr. Ng/Mrs. Low (the list is actually endless), they are teachers.

Of course, there are some exceptions. But I won’t go into that.

---

Mr. Ng, it has been a great, great, great (x100000) joy learning under your tutelage. Even though we might complain about Personal Effectiveness classes (Yes! I remembered the bloody subject name!) and the need to make the 4-column notes; even though we complain about palleral-ism; even though your joy and zest towards life and your perspective may occasionally appear superficial, even fake, you still continue to be the Zen master you are, living life to the fullest and holding no regrets. Even though sometimes you may be at the butt of (invalid) insults regarding your sexuality (as with Yau, we’re definitely not intending to turn you into a homosexual) and the occasional mumble of anger, you still always manage to see the light at the end of the tunnel. Always.

Because of you, I personally (and I assume a lot of us) have changed my view of life, shifting the camera angle to which I try not to pass judgement and no longer remain cynical. It is difficult, living like you do, learning like you do. Your concepts and your lessons on morals and life skills are impacting. In fact, impact-ful is an understatement. Grossly. You have taught us that we can control things within our circle, and that those outside of our abilities, we must leave to the natural cycle of events to fulfil. You have taught us belief.

You have taught us Mathematics in the most darned, unsure-est manner an Emaths/Amaths teacher could even teach, but still manage to instil in our heads (even if some of us don’t know how to complete the square, or modulate properly).

You never give up.

We are very grateful. Thankful. Appreciative. Glad. Honoured. Privileged. Fêted.

Thank you.

---

To all the teachers.

If I compiled a list of things we should be grateful for, it would stretch on for miles and miles of paper (as with most things).

We cannot express our gratitude. We know how lucky it is to have teachers like you in Singapore, here, within this fantastic education system. Yet we sometimes abuse it, and in the process, almost intentionally abuse your being.

I am guessing that the only way to repay you (not in terms of cash, nor in gifts) if to actually utilised the knowledge imparted to us through your daily doses of info, that we will carry it on, and develop it far beyond the boundaries of which you have set as guidelines for us here in Secondary School: to share this eventual development of knowledge, and to further pass it on to the next generation.

To all those who agree, we say yea.

That is, the 43 of us in 4SA, and the multitudes of others whom you have taught before. Even if we’re in London, Thailand, Myanmar, Japan, Korea: we still agree with all of our hearts.

Thank you is not worthy a phrase for the staff of SASS. Perhaps “domo arigatou gozaimashita” would escalate it to a pedestal bereft of slightly greater honour, but that would have to do.

Thank you.

---

I’m sorry to have put you through a 1.6k essay. :P You know how BenSee writes.

Ciao, until collection time.
BenSee
3:11am Dec 03 2009