Bismillah..
This one is dedicated to my kids
Syazwan - for leading me into the caves
Azzim - for showing the way out
When I first entered this new realm, of little people, loud noises and grand gestures..I was overwhelmed.
With a Teaching Degree in hand, I was set out to 'teach' these kids. Imagine it to my surprise and wonder, that instead, I learn from them and learning, I did. My own life unfolds every day, every moment I talked and played with them. The biggest lesson of all started with.. a voice. A whisper.
Do you know what it felt like to have a lifetime of fear to 'speak'? That by time, we began to lost the ability.. Unable to when the heart wants to, soo much! To reach out when you realize noone's going to reach in. Yet, so accustomed to being in the shadows, the light was too piercing. A huge leap, its too hard to venture alone.
My kids (Ya Allah, please bless and guide them always) are a wonder.
He is Syazwan.
Have a speech-disorder..able to talk, only when extremely provoked.
A bright child but lack the means to express himself.
An object to bullying ... but that's another story.
A neglected one (despite the insistent bullying, that is) this child. My heart goes to him but haven't got enough time to actually speak with him. The first real attempt was during an English Spelling Test. I hear pattern of words, his eyes enquiring, his hands and fingers draws upon an invincible whiteboard.
That, is his words.
I heard him said "Wow!' with such a diffusion of joy on his face when I sharpened his pencil. (Take notes, kids and sharpener are inseperable).
This, is his expression.
Then, one day, one AMAZING day...on the first day I became their class teacher, I was set out to hear their hafalan doa-doa. I MUST hear everyone, that fact, is clear. I was set out to hear Syazwan's. With a neutral expression (and purposely seemingly bored expression), waited and recite along with him. I soon found out that he was unable to make a full-sentence, just one or two syllables. More that than, he couldn't carry on..because a cough fit would follow. I don't know..be it his medical condition or it's because he didn't speak for a long time, talking becomes a 'chore', a 'difficulty'. He teared up..him struggling to continue, really wanted to and unable to. The sheer helplessness of himself.. My heart goes..and yet, set on for not 'pitying' him, I waited. When he stops coughing, I only recite two or three syllables in which he can follow. .and he did. For the first time (I think, in his life), he finished reciting doa Qunut. LESSON ONE.
LESSON TWO. Danish was beside him that day. All Syazwan's classmate looked at me like i was crazy, "Teacher, He can't speak!!!!" i can almost see their eyes rounded, wanting to shout the comment aloud. And when he does, at a pace..Danish leaned in, trying to catch his words, barely audible..yet, it's there. His eyes rounded in wonder. Since that day, the bullying (almost) stops. Then I realized what they were doing all this time. They provoked Syazwan just to hear 'his voice'. They would pound him until Syazwan chased them out of mute fury. Sometimes, it could lead to mute despair, but they didn't know any other way to 'speak' with him. Now, they do. Their treatment changed drastically. Danish, Hafiz, Haziq attempted to talk to him after that, sometimes with a brief reply, often a quiet nod just to acknowledge their existence beside him.
Now here comes Azzim, the new kid and the new bully. Honestly, he made it his special mission to annoy the world out of Syazwan. When Syazwan began to trust me (he starts showing me his favourite drawings of ships and whales - my dear, i heart you~ :D), Azzim used it as his medium. Compliment or asking Syazwan to draw for hm. Made to feel competent, Syazwan changes..MasyaAllah, if you could just see him, that mute joy. :"D Syazwan found his expression 'with' others. But it's not enough to make him comfortable to speak. Impatient, Azzim drew on Syazwan's beloved drawing. I'm not proud of it, but I gave him a good scolding. I know how much those drawings means the world to Syazwan, his only medium of expression, his pride and joy. When I scolded Azzim, Syazwan's expression turns to triumphant. He regained his right, to be allowed to feel angry when injustice was being thrown at him. That little act of justice he can claim.
Another, my attendance call-out was initially because I was usually confused with who is Farah and Hasanah. So everyone who is present MUST say "ada". The absentee must be greeted with silence. No one speaks for others. One must speak for himself. It's a joy to tease Syazwan and the class..they kept going to his defense, saying he IS present. My dear, it's my LAW. And soon..when Syazwan builds his confidence, he said a proud "Ada!". A heartfelt shout, I exist!!! :D Acknowledged it with a most unsuccessful attempt to be nonchalant, I can't help but smile. Syazwan finally speaks on his own accord.
He now stand tall, as equal with his 'friends'. Yes, indeed he made friends. And you know what...when Syazwan is competent enough to speak for himself, when he wants to..and when he needs to..Azzim stop badgering Syazwan. A sudden calm. An eye from the storm. He would sit and look at me, perfectly content. His smile says this, "Mission Accomplished.!" Oh my dear boy~ :D you AMAZE me~
Children are more of an adult than we think..they 'care', honest and true. Loyal, energetic, sympathetic...and they forgive people easily, once you make the effort to make peace with. True human heart. When you give them the right surroundings to grow up, rather than in a plastic Disney-world land. They are a 'human'... the most vulnerable and kind. Don't look at them as if they don't know anything. They do. If they don't, it's because they haven't been taught. Don't underestimate them.. they're wonderful. Ya Allah, they are wonderful~ :")
This one is dedicated to my kids
Syazwan - for leading me into the caves
Azzim - for showing the way out
When I first entered this new realm, of little people, loud noises and grand gestures..I was overwhelmed.
With a Teaching Degree in hand, I was set out to 'teach' these kids. Imagine it to my surprise and wonder, that instead, I learn from them and learning, I did. My own life unfolds every day, every moment I talked and played with them. The biggest lesson of all started with.. a voice. A whisper.
Do you know what it felt like to have a lifetime of fear to 'speak'? That by time, we began to lost the ability.. Unable to when the heart wants to, soo much! To reach out when you realize noone's going to reach in. Yet, so accustomed to being in the shadows, the light was too piercing. A huge leap, its too hard to venture alone.
My kids (Ya Allah, please bless and guide them always) are a wonder.
He is Syazwan.
Have a speech-disorder..able to talk, only when extremely provoked.
A bright child but lack the means to express himself.
An object to bullying ... but that's another story.
A neglected one (despite the insistent bullying, that is) this child. My heart goes to him but haven't got enough time to actually speak with him. The first real attempt was during an English Spelling Test. I hear pattern of words, his eyes enquiring, his hands and fingers draws upon an invincible whiteboard.
That, is his words.
I heard him said "Wow!' with such a diffusion of joy on his face when I sharpened his pencil. (Take notes, kids and sharpener are inseperable).
This, is his expression.
Then, one day, one AMAZING day...on the first day I became their class teacher, I was set out to hear their hafalan doa-doa. I MUST hear everyone, that fact, is clear. I was set out to hear Syazwan's. With a neutral expression (and purposely seemingly bored expression), waited and recite along with him. I soon found out that he was unable to make a full-sentence, just one or two syllables. More that than, he couldn't carry on..because a cough fit would follow. I don't know..be it his medical condition or it's because he didn't speak for a long time, talking becomes a 'chore', a 'difficulty'. He teared up..him struggling to continue, really wanted to and unable to. The sheer helplessness of himself.. My heart goes..and yet, set on for not 'pitying' him, I waited. When he stops coughing, I only recite two or three syllables in which he can follow. .and he did. For the first time (I think, in his life), he finished reciting doa Qunut. LESSON ONE.
LESSON TWO. Danish was beside him that day. All Syazwan's classmate looked at me like i was crazy, "Teacher, He can't speak!!!!" i can almost see their eyes rounded, wanting to shout the comment aloud. And when he does, at a pace..Danish leaned in, trying to catch his words, barely audible..yet, it's there. His eyes rounded in wonder. Since that day, the bullying (almost) stops. Then I realized what they were doing all this time. They provoked Syazwan just to hear 'his voice'. They would pound him until Syazwan chased them out of mute fury. Sometimes, it could lead to mute despair, but they didn't know any other way to 'speak' with him. Now, they do. Their treatment changed drastically. Danish, Hafiz, Haziq attempted to talk to him after that, sometimes with a brief reply, often a quiet nod just to acknowledge their existence beside him.
Now here comes Azzim, the new kid and the new bully. Honestly, he made it his special mission to annoy the world out of Syazwan. When Syazwan began to trust me (he starts showing me his favourite drawings of ships and whales - my dear, i heart you~ :D), Azzim used it as his medium. Compliment or asking Syazwan to draw for hm. Made to feel competent, Syazwan changes..MasyaAllah, if you could just see him, that mute joy. :"D Syazwan found his expression 'with' others. But it's not enough to make him comfortable to speak. Impatient, Azzim drew on Syazwan's beloved drawing. I'm not proud of it, but I gave him a good scolding. I know how much those drawings means the world to Syazwan, his only medium of expression, his pride and joy. When I scolded Azzim, Syazwan's expression turns to triumphant. He regained his right, to be allowed to feel angry when injustice was being thrown at him. That little act of justice he can claim.
Another, my attendance call-out was initially because I was usually confused with who is Farah and Hasanah. So everyone who is present MUST say "ada". The absentee must be greeted with silence. No one speaks for others. One must speak for himself. It's a joy to tease Syazwan and the class..they kept going to his defense, saying he IS present. My dear, it's my LAW. And soon..when Syazwan builds his confidence, he said a proud "Ada!". A heartfelt shout, I exist!!! :D Acknowledged it with a most unsuccessful attempt to be nonchalant, I can't help but smile. Syazwan finally speaks on his own accord.
He now stand tall, as equal with his 'friends'. Yes, indeed he made friends. And you know what...when Syazwan is competent enough to speak for himself, when he wants to..and when he needs to..Azzim stop badgering Syazwan. A sudden calm. An eye from the storm. He would sit and look at me, perfectly content. His smile says this, "Mission Accomplished.!" Oh my dear boy~ :D you AMAZE me~
Children are more of an adult than we think..they 'care', honest and true. Loyal, energetic, sympathetic...and they forgive people easily, once you make the effort to make peace with. True human heart. When you give them the right surroundings to grow up, rather than in a plastic Disney-world land. They are a 'human'... the most vulnerable and kind. Don't look at them as if they don't know anything. They do. If they don't, it's because they haven't been taught. Don't underestimate them.. they're wonderful. Ya Allah, they are wonderful~ :")
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