Took half day from work today bcos I need to go Danish's school to pick up his report card. As I sat there, waiting in que with other parents for my turn and watched my son 'controlled' behaviour in the class (bcos I was outside); it brings back memory where I had my father waited outside the class to see my teacher.
The most vivid memory was when I was in Form Five. Nineteen years ago. It was for my trial exam results whereby I failed my BM paper bcos I forgot to write the question number. Everybody knew it was a BIG no-no. If I remembered correctly, I got 55 for the paper (which suppose to qualify me for a pass) but they minus 10 more marks due to my carelessness. My normal marks for BM is usually doesn't exceed 52. If marks were not minus, that could actually be my highest mark yet. Anyways, if you fail your BM paper, you fail all.
I was so terrified that my father don't understand why I got the number I got and its not bcos I didn't do well in other subjects. But most of all, I was so afraid that I failed him. But it turned out okay. My father understood perfectly well, thanks to my class teacher whom explained it superbly to my father. Most importantly, I didn't see that hurt look that your daughter don't live up to your expectation look. Instead he gave me the encouragement that he knew I can do well and better in the final exam which I did.
So today its my turn, to act like a mature and supportive parent to my eldest son.
With that playing in my mind, I walked in to meet my 9 year old son's class teacher. He still has many more years, many more tests and exams ahead of him.
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