(no subject)
My tuition kid gave me a self made sticker of a cat which I stick it to my ruler. I really want to show it to you but I forgot to bring my ruler home. Suprisingly I quite like teaching young kids afterall. They are so innocent and so gullible, something I find a rarity in my surrounding these days. Perhaps, I should go MOE afterall to teach primary school. That's not saying I regretted not going NIE, I am pretty sure what I can get here, I won't be able to get it anywhere else. I used to dislike children because I never really have an exposure to them. All along, the youngest has been me.
My p5 kid reminds me of myself when I was younger. Very quiet. But honestly speaking, I was only quiet in school because I don't really know how to speak English. The ugly "C" on my PSLE cert for English totally proves it. Can you imagine I can still remember up till now for getting 3/15 for my close passage? It's not only once, it's all the time. Although my mum has always been generous when it comes to education, my personal tutor was as good as nothing. She let me write a word repeatedly for twenty times whenever I cannot read it from my pets textbook. And because I really cannot read much, I ended up writing a lot and TRALALA my one and the half hour tuition ended. That was the first one, luckily the later tutors I had was much better. Like the one living in my block 213 on 9th floor, while I live on the 7th floor.
Anyway, what really strucked me to like English was my Gerald's daddy's endless supply of Enid Blyton books- from the short stories, to the wishing chairs and naughtiest girl Elizabeth. I was even given a self-made Enid Blyton book when I was 10 called "Grace and the magic cake". Perhaps such act would have seem mundane to you because your own father did that, it was really special to me. My own conservative dad just isn't very fond of expression of love.
My p5 kid reminds me of myself when I was younger. Very quiet. But honestly speaking, I was only quiet in school because I don't really know how to speak English. The ugly "C" on my PSLE cert for English totally proves it. Can you imagine I can still remember up till now for getting 3/15 for my close passage? It's not only once, it's all the time. Although my mum has always been generous when it comes to education, my personal tutor was as good as nothing. She let me write a word repeatedly for twenty times whenever I cannot read it from my pets textbook. And because I really cannot read much, I ended up writing a lot and TRALALA my one and the half hour tuition ended. That was the first one, luckily the later tutors I had was much better. Like the one living in my block 213 on 9th floor, while I live on the 7th floor.
Anyway, what really strucked me to like English was my Gerald's daddy's endless supply of Enid Blyton books- from the short stories, to the wishing chairs and naughtiest girl Elizabeth. I was even given a self-made Enid Blyton book when I was 10 called "Grace and the magic cake". Perhaps such act would have seem mundane to you because your own father did that, it was really special to me. My own conservative dad just isn't very fond of expression of love.