Sad World
And I thought that the issue of race will never surface again since I have established myself as a good teacher, no, as a very good teacher. Just this week right after doing a sort of advertising for the school, a couple of moms questioned the presence of Asians in an international school such as ours.
My life as a teacher was a long sad journey from being unsure of what I like to do to being accepted as a teacher. Starting with very minimal salary for a half day's work, I struggled getting to school earning very little that I cannot even afford to eat lunch before going home. I tried proving my worth so I went back to school and took Education with the little money I was earning from two jobs. My big break came when I was asked to work out of the country and the rest was history.
My present school stood for me when I received doubts from some of the local parents in my class during my first year stay. However, the rest of the parents gave me inspirations, encouragement and the best advice ever. From then on, my work was seen rather than my physicality. My contributions were acknowledged rather than my colour. My goodness and professionalism became a part and parcel of my name. They knew me as Jonathan, and not as an Asian.
I am writing not to defend myself from the incoming shower of skepticism since I am not directly affected by the comments. I am writing to show how still at this time, some choose to prefer colour from product, accent from process, and origin from competency. Sad world, but very real.
My life as a teacher was a long sad journey from being unsure of what I like to do to being accepted as a teacher. Starting with very minimal salary for a half day's work, I struggled getting to school earning very little that I cannot even afford to eat lunch before going home. I tried proving my worth so I went back to school and took Education with the little money I was earning from two jobs. My big break came when I was asked to work out of the country and the rest was history.
My present school stood for me when I received doubts from some of the local parents in my class during my first year stay. However, the rest of the parents gave me inspirations, encouragement and the best advice ever. From then on, my work was seen rather than my physicality. My contributions were acknowledged rather than my colour. My goodness and professionalism became a part and parcel of my name. They knew me as Jonathan, and not as an Asian.
I am writing not to defend myself from the incoming shower of skepticism since I am not directly affected by the comments. I am writing to show how still at this time, some choose to prefer colour from product, accent from process, and origin from competency. Sad world, but very real.
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