Retrospection (II)

I never did have much of an ambition. When I was very young, my sister and I role-played as office workers. We put together some file binders, scraps of paper and pens and a toy telephone and pretended to be busy taking down orders of goods or dispatching them (it was always just goods, we never got around to define what they actually were). You could say it was a distinct lack of ambition that made this one of our favourite games.

A friend told me that when I was in primary school, I stated that I wanted to be a reporter. But I don't recall myself saying anything of that sort at all. I wasn't particularly attracted to and didn't show any noticeable aptitude in the language subjects.

What I did remember was how I started to like writing due to a sweet, encouraging English teacher in secondary school who wrote lovely comments on my assignments, unlike the perfunctory "good work" or worse, "take note of the use of tenses" (One of my chronic problems, even now). She thanked me for a gushing review of one of my favourite books, which happened to be hers too. It brought back happy memories of her school days, she said. I suppose it was then I realise that my writing could, in some ways, make people feel good.

We were supposed to keep a log book then, to improve our English. We wrote about boring topics like "my favourite subject" (History?) or "what animal I wish to be" (a whale). Thinking back, what I wrote there was incredibly childish: I grumbled a lot, and poked fun at other people (such as a certain H who wanted to be a bird). But yet, they seemed to elicit kindly responses from teachers. I really should be thankful to them for not chiding me for my childish nonsense. :)

Anyway, what I'm trying to say is that kids are impressionable creatures. Terribly sensitive. I think they should come stamped with a label: Fragile, handle with care. Some wise man said something like: be gentle with the little ones. I agree. (nods sagely)

What you say to them is imprinted in their minds, because they are truly the proverbial "blank slates". It's like pressing down hard on a piece of blank paper with a pencil. You may erase the marks and write over them again, but an impression remains on the paper. But I notice that adults are always callous with them. You hear parents in public places threatening to abandon them if they refuse to stop crying/getting on their nerves/crawling all over the place/thumping the parents' heads with rubber-inflated hammers. Apparently they think kids are immune to verbal cruelty.

Actually, that was not what I was trying to talk about; I meant to blog about my latest career ambition, but as usual I went off the tangent, again. Oh, well. Next time.