In today's art classroom

As an art trainer, I get numerous opportunities to visit various kindergartens, primary and secondary schools. I teach visual arts, and I provide my children with learning experiences – primarily to explore, to experiment, to create, to destroy, to reflect and conclude. It is a fun job, but a little part of me dies every single time. Why?

“I don’t know how to do. I scared wrong”. Or “I don’t want to do, later my hands dirty”.

For the 22 years in my life, I have never been to the toilet as often as some of these kids have, in one lesson. I am not kidding. I have spent more time responding (more like rejecting) to requests for them to go to the toilet to wash their hands, than actually creating something in class.

The disgust on their face when a little bit of paint gets onto their fingers. The frustration they feel when things get stuck to their sticky fingers while gluing their artwork. Worst, when they make an irreversible mistake on their work. The devastating look on their face makes me wonder at times, if they see me as the devil who is out to ruin their lives. However, I do get my fair share of blames from ‘The blame game’ – “teacher I told you I cannot do it, you ask me to try. See what happens. Now it is ruined”.

True enough, I did ask them to try, but what I expected in the end of a failed attempt was for them to figure a way out, or experiment to see if another method works, but they give up. They simply give up.

It puzzles me to know that these beautiful intellectual beings are afraid to try something new, or try something different. They are just… Afraid.

It irks me even more to know that the only texture they are willing to touch or lay their finger on, is the screen of their phone or Ipad.What a waste.

Don’t get me wrong. Not every child is like that, and I did not say that it is wrong to be a fastest fingers first. You can be a genius with technology, but your ziggity zag fingers that got your through Temple Run, will not get you through a Visual Arts lesson, especially when you’re supposed to create with your hands - on paper, on batik, with wires, clay, paint, etc.

I am not the ‘cleanest dish in the sink’ either; I am not the finest example in the early childhood or education industry, so I will not cite famous quotations from great philosophers on what is good or bad for kids. However, what I do know is that if I were to ever take care of kids, or be blessed with kids of my own, I will make sure that these kids get to feel what it is like to have gooey, sticky, messy, muddy, or to what others deem as “gross” things on their hands, feet, body, and heck even their faces.

There will be days where they will scavenge for their little toy soldiers that are trapped in huge ice blocks, and there will be days were they will pretend to have crime scenes and chalk silhouettes outside. They will have coloured bomb baths, after wriggling their feet in mud puddles, or after running across oobleck. They will read books about plants, and they might even pick up gardening after that. They’ll meet insects that help their plants, and they’ll keep pet caterpillars and butterflies. They’ll have puppet shows on rainy days with their felt and paper mache-made puppets, or they could play with shadows and lights when there is a storm.

They will explore, experiment, present, create and destroy. Most importantly, they will have fun.

Technology? Oh they will get to go on the web. That is, when they are fine tuning their ‘blueprints’ so that we can make cardboard go-karts to race round the park.

Now who’s with me?

Have you ever felt 'barely there'? Not in terms of education, career or success, but as a person. As your friends are out partying, falling in love, building memories, doing silly things, and even making dreams come true, you start becoming 'barely there'. It might be because they're moving forward in life, or it might be because you're no longer 'cool' enough for them. Occasionally, one or two of them do check in on you, but soon enough the interest dies down and again, you become dispensable. How exactly do you determine your value and impact on someone else when the world has taught us how to skillfully lie through our teeth? This has nothing to do with jealousy, but it most definitely is one of the reasons why I'm dead set on leaving.

Serenity

Sitting here under the void deck as I wait for my final class to begin might seem like an absolute waste of time, when I should really be focusing on completing my overdued essays, or using the time to recuperate and reenergize my body. However, I am loving every bit of it, just sitting here for that solid forty-five minutes or so.

From the serenity of the homely neighborhood, to the occasional cackle from the crows on a nearby tree, to the crisp of a wrapper dancing with the wind, to the feeling of freedom as my opulent locks of hair interacts so mildly with the wind and leaps forth to wherever it takes it.

Just like my hair, I feel the freedom, but as I heave my shoulders and inhale deeply, I am struck with the realization that similarly to how my hair is stuck to my scalp, I too am stuck in the abyss of time and space...

Tell me about yourself

So, tell me about yourself.

­            Well... Right from an early age, the dynamics of how the mind worked fascinated me. Throughout my early childhood, I spent most of my time observing and interacting with my playmate, Raj, who had autism. His unusual behaviors and ways of communicating forced me to question the meaning behind his actions. Being an inquisitive child that I was, I soon developed a deeper interest in the aspects of psychology, and how people think, act, react and interacted with each other. I was also curious about how individuals were so different from each other, when in fact, we were all genetically similar. As I grew older, I was naturally drawn towards finding out how emotions and feelings affected our daily lives. The information that I gathered over the years have been useful on a personal level as they provided me with a better understanding on various human stressor factors.

      After completing my GCE ‘O’ Levels Examinations, I enrolled for a Diploma in Early Childhood because interacting with Raj over the years spurred me to become an educator so that children like Raj were equal opportunities to develop and become leaders of tomorrow. The study on Psychology for young children inspired my inquisitive personality as I learned about the different types of disabilities, their causes and diagnosis, as well as the forms of interventions that could aid those with disabilities to ease into society. My thirst for more information grew and after exhausting all my course materials, I turned to other sources of information. I read up the works and experiments of Jean Piaget, B.F Skinner and Sigmund Freud. I opine in Skinner’s views on how positive reinforcement is more effective at changing and establishing behavior than punishment. I also sourced for authors like Torey Hayden who wrote about her experiences when teaching children with special needs.

Upon graduation, I applied for a teaching position in a school for children with special needs, and the experiences provided me with opportunities to gain insights into school environments, working alongside various professionals to nurture children holistically. The opportunities to develop curriculum, implement lessons and design interventions to help children with special needs adapt to the classroom gave me a better understanding of the needs of these children and how I could improve their learning experiences.  Also, my volunteer work mentoring children from underprivileged families continued to widen my knowledge on psychology and personal development. Above all, these experiences enabled me to hone my oratory skills, patience and confidence as I deal with different children, parents, and other stakeholders in the community. The value of meaningful work is definitely abided through volunteer work and improving the life of others, thus sparking my interest in Social Work as well.

Apart from that, my consistent academic achievements and commitments in school are extremely important to me. Throughout the three years in school, I was given numerous opportunities to hone my leadership skills through various projects such as the production of a motivational video for a celebratory event for my peers, and presentations. I was also selected as an ambassador for my school and conducted duties overseeing school events.

Opportunities to lead a team of youths to countries such as Vietnam, Philippines and India as part of overseas study trips and youth expedition projects enabled me to put my theoretical knowledge into practical use as we conducted lessons and contributed to community work to improve the standard of living for our counterparts. These experiences widened my perspectives on social issues such as poverty and it has also invoked in me, a deeper appreciation towards life; to count our blessings.  The valuable life-long learning gained from these trips also inspired me and some friends to start-up a new co-curricular activity in school; “FoodAID”, that is aimed at educating students on the importance of healthy eating, as well as to promote awareness and contributions to the larger society through food-related fundraising events.

In contrast, I also spend my spare time engaging in sports such as volleyball, and have represented my school in National competitions. The intensity of the games and training has taught me about perseverance and teamwork, which are important factors in life so as to stay highly motivated.

Above all, I believe that I am a determined and disciplined individual with realistic goals. I have taken on full and active roles in my school and workplace, I intend on doing the same throughout the rest of my life...

No... Tell me about yourself. The real you.

To start things off, my name is Kethlyn. G. Kethlyn Gayatiri. I hate my name. Well, not all of it. Just the Gayatiri bit. Why? Because it is too common. Okay, the spelling isn't, but the pronunciation of it is. And no, it is not pronounced as ga-ya-ti-ri. It's guy-tree. That's the other reason why I hate it. No one ever gets it right. No one really gets Kethlyn pronounced right either, but I like Kethlyn. 

I am Indian. It took me a while to accept that fact. More like, 21 years and still going kind of 'a while'. It was only recently that I came to the realization that I did not hate the culture or the people belonging to this race. In fact, I love the rich culture; the colours, the food, the music, the joy, the drama! I discovered that the reason why I wasn't proud to call myself an Indian was because of the hate that this race was getting. Indians were the butt of many jokes, and we were often cast as smelly, or that we were rapists, perverts, drunkards, or loud and irresponsible beings. In addition, I lost a lot of opportunities to befriend people once they found out that I was an Indian. It took me some time to realize that these people weren't worth my time. I didn't have to hide away from the fact that I was an Indian, but I still didn't see the need to flaunt it. It might be hard to understand right now, but I just hate being 'catergorized'. After all, we all bleed red, so why do we still segregate people based on their skin, eye and hair colour, or their religions and beliefs?

Despite being an Indian, I look nothing like one, the stereotypical huge eyes, long lashes, and the thick opulent locks of hair. I used to have long wavy locks but I chopped them off because I felt like it. I've had all lengths of hair, really. From long wavy lavish locks, to shoulder length, to dreadlocks, then to a bob, a pixie, and now it's at the disgusting length; it curls in the oddest places, yet it's not long enough to be tied. It's perfect to hide my ears though. They stick out at the ends. They're huge at the same time, so I decorate them with piercings.

I like piercings. And tattoos. And dermal anchors. I don't like branding though and I certainly am not a masochist. I think of my body as a walking canvas; a piece of artwork, or many artworks mashed together. I like art, but I'm not necessarily good at it. However, I like picturing everything I interact with, as a form of artwork. Music is art, so is the sky and the clouds, and birth, and love, and death, and feelings and emotions and rain and evaporation, and the taste of food. Even how the man stacks the cans in the store is a form of art to me. But art isn't just art. Art is anything and everything. But so is music.

I like music, but I don't have a favorite artist. I do however, have playlists built based on the weather, and my mood. On rainy days, I sip hot chocolate and crinkle my toes under the covers as I laze around to the soothing voices of Mogwai, Dido, Adele, John Mayer, Jason Mraz, The Civil Wars, and Colbie Caillat. Sometimes, when I feel like jumping around and getting dizzy from unnecessary headbanging, I load up the playlist of hits by Paramore, Blink-182, Linkin Park, Metallica, and sometimes even Slipknot. At times, I throw myself against the bed and sing my heart out to Taylor Swift and Adele, and slowly build up the walls around my heart with hits by P!nk and Avril Lavigne. There is no specific reason why I feel this way. Sometimes, it's 'just because'. I like saying just because. I think it's a valid reason. Anyways... Who can forget the Oldies? Richie Valens, Elvis Presley, Johnny Cash, Selena Quintanilla, Frank Sinatra, ABBA, Air supply, Cyndi Lauper, Bee Gees, Ray Charles, Phil Collins, Elton John. Oldy but a goody.

I like reading too. And I hope that by now you would've realized that I don't really structure whatever I am typing as opposed to the essays that I write. Reading my blog entry or hearing me speak is similar to watching the release of a million butterflies. I don't even know if that makes any sense, but what I meant to say is that I tend to go into a 'verbal diarrhea' and sputter everything on my mind before the train of thought leaves. Now, where was I? Oh right, books. I don't really know what kind of books I read. Kinokuniya calls them 'Survival Literature'. My mum hates it whenever I read this kind of books, because she thinks that I get too emotionally attached to the characters in the books that I might end up going under depression, or worst, committing suicide. I think its funny that she thinks that way. I get heavily attached to the characters because I feel their pain, but at the same time their stories always motivate me even more. So I don't see how I can ever commit suicide because of such a book. Books are a great way to escape reality. You get to travel, you get live another life, you get to soak up the atmosphere, you breathe and you feel invincible. But you know what gets to me every single time? Flipping the last page of the book, and feeling a sense of longing, as if you've just lost a really close friend. Do you get that sometimes?

On days that I feel that way, I usually curl up in bed all day, or head out to my 'secret havens'. They're usually the airport, or the beach but I like to think of them as hiding places because I watch too much of Peter Pan. I used to think that I could fly away to Neverland, but till this day, he never came to my window. I used to think that I was a princess too, but that clearly isn't happening. In fact I used to think of a lot of things, because as a kid, thinking about all of these and fantasizing about them didn't hurt. In fact it was encouraged because it was a part of my imagination which led up to creativity. But all that has since died, or have been swept under my bed alongside all the dust bunnies. 

Either ways, I'm starting to get bored with this entry. That's the thing about me. I can never retain enough attention to complete a task, before hopping on to the next. That's probably why I'm the last person you should ask out on a study date. . I retained enough attention to pass my exams though, and enough attention to read a book in one sitting, but I guess it all depends on when my body is ready?

I don't necessarily think I'm weird. I like candy, and chocolate, and movies, and ice cream and things, just like anyone else. I also like wearing toe-socks and eating rice using chopsticks. I like to say the word 'fuck' as well. I don't usually curse, but when I do, I say 'fuck' a lot. I also like eating cereals, a lot. A friend of mine once said that I inhale them. That's funny, because I wouldn't want a lucky charm stuck up my nose. When I'm out shopping, I usually pick the second or third item when I'm buying something that's hanging on a rack. I never pick the first, only because I assume that everyone's like me; I always squeeze or crush the contents in first item that is hanging on the rack. I like squishing marshmallows and gummy things too. And I like jabbing my finger into rolls of toilet paper. I like placing my feet on perfect square tiles and if I stepped on a line with my left foot, then I must do so with my right. I am not weird, I just have quirks. I hate being tapped on my shoulder though. And I am ticklish in every spot, and I do mean every spot. 

I believe in everything that is written about an Aries. I am an Aries, and I adore this masculine, stubborn little creature that ram things with his head. I do the same too, which is probably why I get headaches so often. I love looking horoscopes, and palm reading, and fortune telling and everything else that can't be seen with the naked eye. I wish I was a witch, a good witch of course because the bad witch dies in the Wizard of Oz. She was killed with the house. I always wanted the red shoes that Dorothy had, but I never could figure out which outfit would go best with it. It had too much of a bedazzle to it anyways. 

I don't really know what there is left for me to say. That's pretty much me, really. Unless you'd expect me to do into the explicit detail of what I do on a daily basis. No, that's not going to happen.

Now then, why don't you go ahead and tell me about yourself. The real you.

     As you stand by the edge where the surf washes ashore, you become hypnotized by the alluring waves that come crashing against your feet. You stand rooted in one spot, still very much focused on the songs of the sea. The ocean's arms caress you so gently and beg you to become one with the sand. You wriggle your toes and your feet sink into the warmth and grittiness of the sand's touch. The waves knock you off balance every once in a while, but you have gotten the hang of it and with every wave that comes your way, you heave your shoulders, stiffen your body and inhale deeply. You feel anchored.

     That was how I set out to feel, but this is entirely the opposite of how I am feeling this week. Of course, it might be too early to sum up my week since it is only Monday, but so much has happened in this one day that I feel hopeless, guilty even...

An apology

Dear you,

I just wanted to say... I'm sorry.

For all the trouble that I put you through. For the nights that we fought over unnecessary topics. For all the hurtful words that I hurled at you. For all the selfish stunts that I pulled on you. For not understanding you well enough. For all the unhappiness I caused. For wanting to give up. For being such a jerk.

Regrets and mistakes, they're memories made

I am amazed at how far we have gotten in this friendship despite the shit that I have put you through. No one deserves to go through all that stuff, not even you. I know that it is my fault and I know that it is a little too late, but I wish I could go back in time to take away all those memories.

At the start of the friendship, my main goal was to help you feel comfortable with yourself. To let you feel loved and supported, and to see the world through the eyes of another person. However, overtime, I realized that I was doing it all wrong. A friendship was not about changing a person, but rather accepting the person for who he is. But if I was struggling to come to terms with who I was, how was it going to be possible for me to accept others?

For a period of time, I hated myself a whole lot because I was offering you all the support and advice yet I was not even listening to myself. It was as though I was putting on a façade and I was so sick and tired of myself. I realized that it was not a game, and I was in no position to mould or influence you into becoming someone else because I was not any better. I had a ton of insecurities and as I struggled to live my life, the frustrations, pressures and hatred for life just began building up in me, and just when I was about to explode, you got in the way. And for that, I’m sorry.

There may not be much positive memories to this friendship because of the things that I have said and done, but one thing for sure is that you have taught me a whole lot about myself. I was so used to being independent and getting things done my way that I often failed to realize how my actions and words affected the people around me. Again, I’m sorry. You also taught me about perseverance and patience, and forgiveness and as I look back at this friendship, I realized that you were helping me more than I did. Mostly importantly, this friendship and you, reminded me of how much I missed being a kid again.

Truth is, I am envious of you. You've got the looks, the intelligence, the ability to pull anything off, and you've got people who love you and want nothing but the best for you. I just wish you could see all of this for yourself.

"All you need is 20 seconds of insane courage and I promise you something great will come out of it"

I don't know what is going to happen in 2012, but I am pretty sure that we will start moving on with our own lives. As such, I'd just want to thank you for being a part of my life in 2011. It was life-changing :)

2012

Every year, on this very day, at around this time, I close my eyes. I close my eyes and I take a deep breath and as I do so, I open up my mind and heart as all the memories for the past year flash before me. Just like any other year, 2011 was a tortuous journey; a battled filled with ups and downs, joy and sadness, tears and laughter. There were countless of times when I wished that I could turn back, to take back the days that never happened, devastating tragedies and meaningless afternoons that I let pass, opportunities that I missed. But  most importantly, I wished that I could to turn back time to relive the glorious moments that can never occur again. 

It was in this year that I decided to live without regrets, living life day by day so that every second that I invested in something or someone, was made meaningful. This was also the year that I promised myself that I would find happiness, and even though I am still at a loss of what I want in my life, I found a better person in me. To many, it might seem like a small issue, but to me, it is one heck of a glorious victory for this year. Not only have I experienced a myriad of emotions and everything in between, but I also was given the opportunity to meet wonderful people who have changed and shaped my life positively, and they are the ones reading this right now.

I am grateful for all that I have, and I am pretty sure that I will be welcoming 2012 as a better person that I am today. I hope that 2011 was as life-changing for you, as it was for me. Let's make 2012 our year :)

Skepticism

Just had a four hour long chat with a really good friend of mine from the Philippines. I got to know him during my school’s Youth Expedition Trip in March, and till this day, we’ve been keeping in contact with each other via Facebook.

Words cannot describe how amazing this kid is. Throughout the entire YEP trip, he was the one who taught me so much about life, even though he is just thirteen. They say age is just another number, and I can’t help but to agree. This 13 year old has so much gusto in him, that it makes me ashamed of myself. See, this kid is openly gay and even though he always got bullied for being small-sized and into make-up, beauty pageants and ballet, he never once gave up on himself. He once told me “I am not like paper, I won’t crumple easily. And why should I try to be like others? I’ll just be another clone”. He is just 13, and yet his words of wisdom stayed with me. 

Even after I came back to Singapore, I always wondered how he was doing, and it was during this 4 hour conversation that he informed me of his successful progress as a danseur, and a pageant ‘king’. I can never be any prouder for him. But I always wondered…

How is a 13 so confident, and sure of himself and his future, while I a 19 year old, am still stuck in my own little bubble? I can’t help but wonder what it is like to be in his shoes, and where he got all the courage and optimism from. I wonder when it would be my turn to fully understand myself and where I am heading in life.

I sure could use some help right about now…