The Interview

"Good afternoon, everyone."

"Good afternoon, Miss Tan, is it?" A small room with a table, and 3 interviewers sitting at it. On the left, a middle-aged man with tanned skin. On the right, a middle aged lady, with the same kind of spectacles all teachers wear. In the center, a *cough* large imposing lady with an equally imposing voice. I sit down in the only vacant chair, facing the firing squad.

"So tell us more about yourself then. I see you graduated last year in December? What have you been doing since then?"

"Well, I was a research assistant in NUS for a while, then I was doing full-time tuition while looking for a job. However, later I found that I liked teaching so I concentrated on tuition instead."

"Why is that so?"

"How do I put it... You invest your time and effort in a student, you teach her throughout the year, and then when you get your returns in the form of good grades, you feel a sense of achievement."

"What if your students don't pass? I get this feeling that them passing their exams are really important to you. If you're teaching a class of 35-40 people, not all of them are going to pass their exams, so what are you going to do?"

"I won't be upset over it. If my students fail, then I don't see it as something to be upset about. I see it as something I have to help her improve on. There's no use feeling upset over bad results. The important thing is to find out their mistakes and help them for the next exam."

"You realise that tuition is totally different from teaching? In tuition, you're teaching one student at a time. With teaching, you could potentially face a class of 30 or more students. How are you going to handle that kind of pressure? Can you handle that kind of pressure?"

"Yes, I realise that, but..."
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"What are you going to do, if you're facing a class of 30 students who won't listen to you?"

Self-deprecatingly: "I suppose one advantage is that I have a loud voice."

Middle-aged lady grins. "Shout at them?"

"Probably shout at them and make sure I get their attention. The important thing is to get their attention, and then engage it for the rest of the lesson."

"Have you any friends who are teachers?"

"Yes, I do."

"Have you asked them about teaching?"

The various accounts of egoistical principals, manical students and questionable colleagues come to mind. "Yes, I have."

"What did you learn from them?"

"I learned that there is much more to teaching than most people realise. Teaching is not just about standing in front of a class reading from a textbook for 6 hours and then going home." All 3 interviewers nod sagely at this. "There is also a lot of administrative work, paperwork to be done. Also, you can't just stand up in front of a class and improvise on the spot. Lesson plans have to be compiled, and sent to principals for approval. You can't just do what you like with the class." The 3 interviewers nod again, hopefully in approval.

"Are you sure you can handle that pressure? I have to ask, because you only have experience in teaching tuition, which is totally different from actual teaching."

"Well, I would think no job is exactly like teaching..."

"No, there is a job that is." interrupts the man, silent up till now "It's relief teaching. You could have applied for relief teaching. Did you?"

"Yes I did, through the MOE website, but they didn't get back to me."

"The website takes a long time. You should have directly approached the principals of the schools around your area. Did you do that?"

Pause, and then decide on brute honesty. "No, I didn't realise you could do that." A thrust, badly deflected.

"Why didn't you try working in the private sector?" A sensitive question. I attempt to sidestep and feint.

"I felt that in the private sector, er, how do I describe it? A lot of people seem to be out for material gain and nothing else, it's..." I falter, and all 3 stare hard at me. I feel like I'm standing in front of a class giving a presentation, and I said something stupid which the whole class picked up on except me. The imposing lady picks up the pace again.

"Can you handle the pressure of teaching?" She stares me straight in the face.

"Yes, I'm sure I can." I stare right back at her.

"Are you definitely sure you want to teach?"

Images of my menopausal mother spring to mind. "Yes, I'm definitely sure."

---

Well, a summary of the interview that passed on Thursday. Definitely there were other things they said, and which I said, but which I cannot remember for now. Already the day passed by into the vaults of memory and are proving hard to retrieve.

The strongest impression I had of that interview was fencing squad. The moment you sat down, the interviewers drew their points and immediately started attacking you in every possible corner. Sorta like a free-for-all debate... (--!) I felt like I was constantly on the guard, deflecting all their thrusts, and putting in some of my own. All the prepared answers went out of my head, and pure instinct seemed to take over, which, probably, resulted in a much more natural, honest interview. Which could have been part of their dire plan to disarm me. Dammit.

A weird thing about me though. The whole day before the interview, I was hardly worried. [I was worried more about spilling rendang on my white shirt during lunch, and of someone stealing my degree scroll, which I was carrying around] Even when he shook my hand and walked off and I had to enter the MOE building by myself, I was not worried. When I was waiting for my turn to be interviewed, I was not worried. When I was being interviewed, I was too busy defending myself to be worried.

After the interview... I GOT DAMN WORRIED.

After I left the building and could think normally again, I refreshed my memories of the interview. And then I realised, I could have said something better. I could have answered better. Perhaps I should not have said that. OH SHIT.

I called Yen and wailed to her over the phone. "AAAAARRRRGGGHHHH!!!!!!!!"

"What happened??"

"Ohgoditwasbadisaidabunchastupidstuffishouldhavesaidotherstuffwhydidisaythat"

"Er.................."

"Are you free now? Can you meet up with me for a while?" I sniffed.

"Sigh.............."

So I meet her in the Mac's at Clementi. With my shirt unbuttoned, [I was wearing a tank underneath, no worries] me clutching a cup of Coke Float in my hand, [comfort food] slumped over the table with the most forlorn expression on my face, Yen comments:

"You look like one of those broken-hearted drunks on TV."

"....................................................................................................."

Well, I wail out everything to her, about how disastrous the interview was, about how the 3 gorgons wanted my blood, about how I was so doomed, about how I'd be so screwed if I don't get it and how my mother was going to screech the whole house down if I didn't.

*Much thanks and kudos to Yen, btw, for the tons of patience she has, and for putting up with a almost-hysterical raving lunatic*

In the end, the combination of wailing and Coke float managed to calm me down. By evening, I had delegated the memory to the back of my mind, and once again, jumped into my tuition routine as if nothing special had happened in the afternoon. The only thing to remind me being my white shirt and my degree scroll, which I was still lugging in my hand. [stupid NUS never thought of making it into a more portable A4 size, grumble grumble grumble]

So now....... it only remains to wait. 2-3 weeks later I should find out whether I'm a teacher or not. Wish me luck on this.

*BTW, much credit, hugs and thanks to all who cheered me along the way, who kept telling me I could do it, who kept my confidence up, and who sent me their best regards and wishes on the day itself. All you guys deserve a huge HUG!*