亭亭松影, 细细海风

Like an eager beaver, I reported fifteen minutes earlier to give myself the opportunity to reminisce the 4 years of my life spent in this school. Well, I never studied at this campus, which was the site of the former raffles jc, but nevertheless, I felt very... EMO...

This CLASS workshop had been the most delightful CLASS experience I've ever had. I had fun with the students and I felt totally myself in their company. Dunmanians always seem to have a special affinity for their alumni. For those two days, I appeared to have turned back time to become a 16-year-old student again.

My group was pretty fun. There was this sporty dude who volunteered to do a rap when asked to present on one of the 6 components of SL. There was also another guy who was really vocal and unhappy about the fact that he was made to come to this workshop, but was really enthusiastic about the service to the TCIL trainees. But only two of them turned on the second day, and they are scholars from China.

I recalled my experience two years ago at QQS. I enjoyed the friendship I had with the Chinese. Back then, I was reminded of how differently they are treated back in Singapore. They are often outcasted during group activities or at best, not included in our circle of friends. Little did I know that it took two years to be able to carry out my application. I really enjoyed working with the two Chinese students and I wasn't the only one who could see that the workshop has left a deep impression on them.

During lunch on the second day, I went to look for Mrs Wong. She's the bestest-test teacher I've ever had. She's also the teacher in charge of the band. She could have been the HOD or even a principal a long time ago, but chose to remain a teacher so that she could be with the band. Such passion and affection for the CCA is really moving. I would never be able to forget the time we went to Sembawang CC for our rehearsal and there was only one little cafeteria for the hundred plus of us band members to get our lunch. Seeing that there was no way for the kitchen staff to handle all of us, she herself stepped into the kitchen to help out. That act alone made me to never doubt her love for us, her students and band members.

It has been 4 years since I graduated. Mrs Wong looks a little more aged. I was so happy to see her that I shouted out to her across the carpark. When I was talking to her later in the staff room, I thanked her too for those English lessons in sec 2, in which she allowed me to really talk and talk and blabbered off during those times we were supposed to be doing presentations on our projects or newspaper articles. I ended up cracking jokes all the time and she laughed along too. She could have told me sternly to get back to the topic but she didn't. She simply allowed me to be myself.

I couldn't really identify the emotion that kept me so high throughout the 2-day workshop. Not until the end. As we were waiting for the cab and as the sky poured forth rain, I took a walk back to the gallery which had an elaborate display of the timeline of dunman high. I glanced through every period of time, the 1060s, 70s, 80s and 90s, but paused to observe the 00s. It had been a mixture of pride, joy and sadness.

I can proudly claim to be a dunmanian. And it's a totally different thing as compared to saying that I was a student from TPJC... *bleargh!* And I'm glad to have been part of the glorious history of this awesome school. Having been a part of the first and second Kaleidescope (a bi-annual gala event to showcase the artistic and cultural achievements of the school), the Singapore Youth Festival central judging for indoor bands, etc... But also the sadness of knowing that I did not become the best I could have been at the end of my time there.

But newaez, I thank God that it was through those sad times that He found me and that made me realise how God chooses His time for certain things to happen. I know that at the end of my life, I'll get to see the picture, of how God had made the pieces of my life fall nicely into place to form a beautiful picture, a masterpiece, hung on the walls of His home.