I know what you are thinking. Was I a good student? Take a good guess. I studied from dust to dawn. I took as many extra classes as my money said yes. I rode a bicycle to school. If you were me, you would have quit school, not because it was too far for a small boy to journey, but because I was riding an old secondhand female bicycle. If this does not discourage or shame you enough, it was shiningly red. I was bullied for that. However, this taught me a great lesson in life. “If you are poor and weak, people we laugh at what you have and who you are.” Just to be sure that we are on the same page, that was not the reason I became a teacher.
You can already tell how good a student I was. I rarely spent my money on gamblings, not a single cent until I discovered JXII by Sabay. Oh boy! I was hooked, and so were many other kids. That was when I changed school. I was in high school and still the youngest in class. The reason I was always the youngest was that I skipped second grade. I had been good until I got in secondary, something had changed. I felt more relaxed and took things easy. My studies started to lean to negative, but no one knew because nobody really paid attention. Yes, old folks should start paying attention to their kids’ studies. NOT the grades, but the study performance.
I played online games, and I started to do more sport. My favorite was volleyball. I would rather miss a test, but not my volleyball matches. I learned how to gamble slowly. We bet small money, not because we wanted to, but because we only had that much. Even though I had been playing games and sport, I was good at neither of them. I don’t inherit this sporty talent from my dad. He once was watching me playing in front of our house and shook his head like he was stung by a wasp. I immediately knew how ashamed and hurtful he was standing there witnessing how terrible I was at the sport he was good at.
All that nonsense out of the way, I was an innocent teenager. I could just break a window and be pitiful so that no one was going to blame me. I was good at it, but that is not what I am proud of. The only thing I am proud of myself is that I went from primary to secondary through high school without a scratch. I never had any problem with anyone. My classmates got into a big fight in front of our class. They were brought to the principal office and some of them were even taken further to the police station except for those whose parents had arrived before the arrival of the police. I was there watching it happen. I saw the whole thing, but I was small and nobody bothered me, nor did they ask anything. Maybe they thought I was not old enough for such a thing. They didn’t want to waste their time.
National exam was approaching in 2010. I was not ready for that big time. Shamelessly, I cheated. Well, everyone did back then. I was not proud of it. To be honest, I could have passed without cheating, but everyone was doing it, so I did it too. Finishing high school was the most exciting thing and the scariest moment at the same time. I had to choose what to study in college. It was a trend to go to university and pursue higher education. It was our dream to be in college; it was the society that made everyone think a college degree was a must-have piece of paper that would eventually help you live a good life. I still cannot tell now, and I am holding two bachelor’s degrees. My message to the parents out there: “Don’t send your kids to college for the degree, NEVER. Send them to college so that they can learn and be wiser in making decisions.”
Remember when I said nobody really cared much about my studies? Yes, they did after I finished high school. They did not ask how I felt about my studies, maybe they assumed I was doing just fine because I never told, I still haven’t found out yet, instead they, all of them, came to advise me on which university I should go to and which field or subject I should take. It was one of the darkest, hardest moments in my life. I was not even sure about my life, and I had to deal with those people who thought they wanted the best for me. Well, they did, but I don’t think I will EVER do that to my kids or anyone. Deciding for someone because you think it is good for him or her is like taking away his or her lives; Give ‘em back, will you?
My mother wanted me to be a person who worked in the bank. Yes, she had some friends who worked there and they didn’t seem to look poor. She was convinced that if I became a banker, I would have been rich when I grew older or when I had a family. I still had no idea, neither did my dad. My dad didn’t think about it. He would agree to anything my mother had to say. He was a follower, but more practical than my mom. So these two people were pushing me into it. They even brought me to their friend’s house so that he could explain how I could get into the college and study banking. Well I took it, the advice, and started studying for the entrance exam.
Nope. That wasn’t it. There was more. My aunt didn’t like the idea that I became a bank employee; you didn’t think I would be the owner, did you? She wanted me to become a doctor. She had always wanted her kids to become one, but none of her kids were good at studying. Her eldest son was a high school dropout. He didn’t like studying that much; he was helping her with family business. Being involved too much with the parents business led him to spend less time with his studies and eventually he lost interest in going to school. To be frank, he didn’t do well even in primary school. Her daughter wasn’t much of a difference from her brother. She didn’t love books and pens, neither did her other two boys. I think it was because the parents didn’t pay attention to their kids’ study. They didn’t spend enough time with their children. Because her kids were not able to become a doctor, she really hoped I could be a doctor some days. She even promised, I don’t care if she could keep it, to help support me while in college. Isn’t my aunty sweet. I love her as much as I love my parents. I was actually living with her at her house when I was little. My parents were busy working. Technically, she was someone who brought me up and fed me when I was hungry. She has been my god-mother, the great one. The list goes on. However, I let her down.
But “how did you become an ESL teacher?” you ask. Wait! Almost there.
I did; I took the entrance exam at banking college. Unfortunately, I didn’t make it through. I realized that I was as dumb as I had thought. Again, people did not accept it. My family and relatives, especially my mother, thought I did not pass on purpose. For god’s sake. I mean how people looked at me and praised me for what I didn’t really acquire made me hurt even more than failing the exam. I was sad and happy at the same time; I cried and laughed in my sleep every night. To tell you the truth, they all are still thinking that I am a good learner. It is a shame and guilt that I have to bring with me into the grave.
After failing, things did not end there; I took the entrance exam at Institute of Foreign Languages (IFL) which back then was well-known for its top-notch entrance test. Only students with really good English could attend that school. I was excited; I mean I was good at English, I thought. For the record, I am from Ratanakiri province, the northeast part of Cambodia. There were not many English schools, or should I say English centres, back in my day. I used to go to pagoda to study English with monks. I also used to go to church just to study for free. Those small they-called-schools I had been to closed in a few months after I attended. I actually never finished the legendary English-For-Children book. Fast forwards to when my English started to take off, I attended a missionary school. I studied with a Filipino teacher. I am grateful I met her. Jean was her name. She was kind, sweet but strict. Therefore, when I took the entrance exam at IFL, I was so confident. ‘What could be so difficult about it? Maybe they are just exaggerating about how hard it is to get into it.’ For the second time, I FAILED.
‘Wait, what?’ Yes, I failed again. My last choice was to attend Royal University of Phnom Penh (RUPP). It was one of the craziest decisions I have made in life. It was a big deal, but I made it sound so easy. Okay, what’s next? Let me study Maths at RUPP. What is so hard about it? I am holding a Bachelor’s degree in science in mathematics from RUPP. Never had a chance to use it, though.
I didn’t give up the IFL thingy. When I was in the first year at the RUPP, I took the entrance exam again. I was more than confident this time because I had been reviewing and practicing the whole year. What is more, I took English classes at Pannasastra University of Cambodia (PUC). I was invincible at that time. This might make you cry, so please have a handkerchief nearby. I MISSED THE EXAM. Yep! I missed it. I thought I read it clearly that I had to take the exam at 9.00 a.m. I got up early in the morning and did things slowly; I took my time. I got to the IFL at 8.30. I thought I was super early until I went to the information board again. I couldn’t believe what I just saw. My heart raced and it beat faster than the clock’s hands on my left hand. I looked at the watch while running towards the building. I got there and was kicked out because I was half an hour late for the exam. Even though I agreed that it was fine for me, the guard just ruined my life. Technically, I did; I was the one who ruined my own life. I couldn’t even cry. Still, as a mama boy, I phoned my mother and told her I had missed it. I thought she would blame me hard like she used to do when I was in high school, but she didn’t. She consulted me and asked me if I hadn’t eaten breakfast. Well played, mom.
I had to spend another year preparing for the exam again. God, please make it stop! I was a sophomore at RUPP, and I guess I was more mature that time. I was planning things and looked at life more seriously. Finally, I got into IFL on my third attempt. The moment of truth. It was more exciting than when I attended the RUPP class. I worked for it, and the hard work paid off pretty well. You might be laughing at me, but I am telling you, if you think life is easy, you haven’t lived your life a day. Lame!
And the journey to becoming an ESL teacher began.
Life was full of joy and prosperity. I enjoyed it even though it was not an ideal one. I was doing two degrees at the same time. If you asked me whether you should do two degrees at once, it would be a big fat NO from me. Yes, people have been doing it and they are still doing it, but for what exactly? People seem to care more about what degree(s) they are holding, but they tend to overlook the value and knowledge they get from it. To be frank, I lost interest in my science major. I am still guilty for not quitting it. I was in a dilemma. I was ashamed of quitting; I didn’t know how to tell my parents, so I kept going. However, I spent an excessive amount of time on my English class. I mostly stayed in the Self-access Centre (SAC) at IFL. I knew I would be an ESL teacher in the future, so I aimed for it.
In my second year at IFL, I volunteered to teach students with little English knowledge at RUPP. For the record, most students in RUPP are from provinces. They study to become teachers; unfortunately, most of them aren’t good at English. I taught them English; I had no idea what I was doing. I was trying to copy what I had observed my other teachers were doing. I have to admit that I am good at imitating. I was parroting my teachers and lecturers with very little skills in teaching whatsoever. 5 months passed, I applied to be a teacher at one small school near my university. I went to an interview for the first time in my life. I was sweating and scared, but hopeful. You can call me stupid, but I accept the offer right away. I was promised $50 per month. As a sophomore, I was proud to earn the money. I didn’t really care much about the number; I only wanted the job. Then came the funny part. On the payday, I was called into the principal office and was handed an envelope. I couldn’t believe it, there was $35 in it. It was strange, so I asked why. She said I hadn’t taught on the weekends, had I? What on earth was she thinking? But why didn’t I quit? You wouldn’t believe this. I worked there for three months teaching only three students. The number of the students dropped consistently each month. The last month I worked there, I only had to teach one student. Yes, just one. It was awkward and boring at the same time. Okay, enough is enough. I quit.
The adventure didn’t end there. I began my journey at American Intercon Institute (Aii) in the same year. On 13 October 2014, my life changed forever. I had my professional career as an ESL teacher in one of the biggest English language institutions in Phnom Penh. I couldn’t be more proud of myself. My parents told everyone about it. You know, this is what parents do. Aii taught me so many things, professionally and socially. There were the goods and the bads. More on this later. I left Aii to join Australian Centre for Education (ACE) in February 2018. It was another great move I have made so far. It took me years to finally decide to leave Aii, and I realized it was not that hard to move from one place to another. You just need to stop overthinking. Life gives you so many choices; just pick one and move your ass.
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You have just finished reading the first chapter; how do you feel about it? What are your suggestions? If you like it, drop me an email at meanithnem@gmail.com or leave me a comment down below.
The second chapter is coming up soon. Stay tuned!
Cheers,
Meanith Notes 