[val-val]

By Valerie Tay, Wed, Aug 01, 2007, The Straits Times
www.valtay.blogspot.com

THE right ear had turned a bright red, a stark contrast from the left. Still, the teacher tugged forcefully on the ear as the rest of the class winced.

The boy grimaced in pain but not a sound issued from his lips.'Why didn't you do your homework?' the cikgu screamed, her anger getting the better of her. She gave the ear another vicious tug and I feared it was going to come off. Thankfully, it didn't but its colour deepened to a darker crimson.

The boy stood silent, hanging his head. He didn't look frightened, just kind of resolute and resigned, like he had accepted his fate.

And that had been his daily fate on a school day. Hardly a day passed when he was not berated, had his ear pulled or had his exercise book thrown in his face.

Think it's fiction? No, I witnessed those scenes countless times when I was in primary school.

If I remember correctly, his name was Chin Huat and he was always getting into trouble because he hadn't done his homework.

I could never understand why he couldn't just do his homework and avoid the humiliation and pain. Like my teachers, I'd thought I'd never seen a lazier fellow and a more hopeless case.

Then one Friday night, on a whim, my mother took me to the Haig Road hawker centre for supper. We had settled down to eat at a table when I spotted him.

Chin Huat, no longer in his school uniform, was busy at one of the stalls, serving customers and clearing tables. I watched him for a while, awed by this different side of him that I'd never seen before.

He was very efficient at his job, multi-tasking and quick on his feet, and instead of the usual quiet and sullen-faced boy I knew in school, he looked happy, smiling frequently. A confidence shone on his face like he knew he was in his element here.

It was past nine. It dawned on me that the stall wouldn't close till late as the food centre was still packed with people and business was brisk. There was a middle-aged couple busy manning the stall as well. Was Chin Huat helping out at his parents' stall? Did he come here to work every day after school?

I thought about all the homework that hadn't been done and I finally knew. That very moment, I learned that, sometimes, things aren't what they appear on the surface.

Our eyes finally met. I nodded and gave him an encouraging smile. He seemed embarrassed for a moment, before a holler from the stall brought him to a start and he resumed his duty.

With the understanding, a new respect took root in my heart. I was a lucky kid, while not so lucky kids like Chin Huat went to work after school. Overnight, my perception of him turned 180 degrees. I was the cloistered child, he was an adult living in the real world. I admired him.

He didn't last till the Primary Six exams, dropping out of school after a few more months of ear-pulling. There was no point - he wouldn't have passed.

He'd definitely be happier taking to work life like a responsible adult. And if he inherits his father's hawker stall, I know he will do well and not have to owe anybody a living.

But why hadn't he told the teacher? Explain why he could never find the time or energy to do his homework? Why didn't he say anything to anyone? For years I couldn't understand his reticence - till one day, I found myself in a Chin Huat situation.

Working as an executive in a large company, I was sent to a four-day workshop held at a hotel. Classes started at 9am every morning.

The first day I managed to arrive only at 9.30am. The trainer made some remarks about punctuality and continued his presentation. Of course, everyone knew the comment was directed at me.

The next day, I arrived at 9.30am again. The trainer repeated his call for punctuality, seemingly to nobody in particular, again.

I wasn't late on purpose. It was simply no use leaving the flat earlier. On a normal working day, I'd arrive at the office at 8.45am instead of the required 8.30am. I had sought the understanding of my supervisor and he had kindly agreed to let me start work 15 minutes later and finish work later.

You see, every morning, I would be at my son's PCF kindergarten at Bedok Reservoir (where my mother lives) waiting for the teacher to open the door at eight, drop him off and then rush off to work. I could make the office in 45 minutes by bus. My mother, who doesn't get up till 9am, would pick my son up after school.

The workshop's location was further than the office. I had to take a bus, then switch to the train, to get there. That was why I arrived at 9.30am.

I thought of telling the trainer about my situation, but decided to wait and see if he would take me aside to talk about it. No such luck.

My colleagues, too, did not ask, and I, too, did not explain.

The third morning, the trainer made another exhortation for punctuality. But by then, I had grown irritated and stubbornly refused to go to him to explain.

I also pushed aside the thought of taking a taxi to the hotel. Why should I spend the equivalent of a tin of formula milk to gain the approval of the trainer? I'll admit I do have a wilful streak in me.

Then came the last day of the training, and he took his revenge. Oh, he'd saved the best game for the last.

Taking one end of a long piece of string, he invited a participant to hold the string a little distance away from him. That participant would then invite someone else, and so on, in the great string communion.

It was obviously a popularity contest, and no prizes for guessing who would be last. I stood there waiting till the end and, in a way, I deserved it.

The trainer let a long pause develop before coolly asking the pariah standing alone, 'Would you like to join in?'

'Sure,' I replied, just as coolly, with a smile. 'I don't mind.' And I stepped up smartly, confidently, to grasp the end of the string, unrepentant and defiant to the end.

I thought about Chin Huat then, and I finally understood what I had failed to understand all these years.

Chin Huat hadn't spoken of his problem because no one had asked. No one had cared to ask. Sometimes, things may not be what they appear to be.

Next time I see a Chin Huat, I think I'll ask.

[h3llsoldier]

the teacher did ask him y he never do his homework.. he din bother to reply.. rite ?
did i get the story rite ?

[yunise]

yeah i get the story. but sometimes i tink its jus an excuse.
we all have the choice of saying or keeping the reasons.
if saying it does everyone more understanding. why wait to be asked?

[uglybutadorable]

dont get the story~ =.="

[enigmasam]

Meaningful.... Everyone will face this in life... In some part of life.. But until then... Some people will understand this and some will have to face it on their own...